One of my biggest projects this school year – so far – is to establish a creative writing club for our high school. I started with a vision and my previous experience of working with my teacher bestie, Dorri, to start a writing club at my previous school. To say that I learned from that experience is an understatement.
In that club Dorri and I worked to establish at St. Michael School, we dealt with technology issues, age differences (serving young middle grade students as well as middle school students), not to mention the hazards of the COVID 19 pandemic. It is crazy to think that we achieved anything at all. Yet, we did in a small way, even if the larger St. Michael community didn’t always recognize it.
We may have had a small core of roughly half a dozen students, but they were truly interested. They eagerly learned from one another. My 7th and 8th students demonstrated patience with Dorri’s 3rd graders, many of whom were just learning how to more fully express themselves in writing, expanding their thinking along with their vocabulary. Dorri’s 3rd graders brought enthusiasm and fresh perspectives to their older peers’ projects.
When I started at Michigan Virtual Charter Academy this past fall, I knew that I wanted to become involved in some kind of club. While I knew that we had a well-developed esports program, I didn’t exactly know what other clubs were offered. It turned out that while we offer an academic creative writing class, we did not have a creative writing club. Well, I sought to change that. So far, I have succeeded.
At the beginning of the school year, I focused on creating an online classroom full of resources I could have only dreamed of as a high school student in love with writing. There are dozens of websites to explore, hundreds of writing prompts, inspiring quotes, book recommendations, and so much more. Then, I watched over several weeks as my students connected and explored common interests. They grew as writers and found the confidence to share their work and a little bit about themselves. Students then spent much of the semester writing pieces intended for eventual publication, likely a blog. What happened next, I did not see coming.
We may have to wait until next school year to publish anything, but not only are both the principal and assistant principal extremely supportive, our head of school now knows about the project. In fact, I’ve received nothing but positive feedback. Right now, I am working on helping to ensure we keep moving ahead in the right direction. Who knows where this will take us? Already, I have had two new club members join in the first few weeks of this new semester. They’ve fit in seamlessly, which is a testament to the culture my students created. I am incredibly proud of what they’ve achieved!
I did not set out to become a teacher, I left that to my younger sister Erica. As her older sister, I’ve never known her to want to be anything other than a teacher and a mother. I envied the fact that she was so certain about her desired profession, not to mention her dedication to her love of children. When we played school – and we did often – I ended up being the school librarian while she insisted on being the teacher. Until our younger brother was born when I was age 10 and Erica age 7, we didn’t have a single pupil. By the time he was two, Erica made our toddler brother a series of report cards, grading him on things like “listening” and “sitting still.” But, this isn’t my sister’s story. It is mine.
My story of pursuing a career as a secondary teacher is by no means conventional. In fact, it is so unconventional and challenging that I would recommend it to no one. If it weren’t for the facts that teaching is in my DNA and I am meant to be a teacher, I would have given up long, long ago. Instead, I doubled-down when I was faced with what at the time seemed to be insurmountable obstacles. I even went back to substitute teaching when needed while deciding what my next step would be. I am a better person, and teacher, for it.
Every story needs to start somewhere, and mine starts with the statement that teaching is in my blood. It truly is. As a genealogist, as far as I can tell, the teaching tradition goes back at least five generations on my mom’s side of the family. It likely goes back even further. Both of Mom’s grandmothers taught, and one of her grandfathers served as principal of his daughters’ elementary school, as well as coach.
Interestingly, the teaching careers of my great-grandmothers could not have been more different. I knew both Grammy Bea (Beatrice Williams), who taught kindergarten and first grade for decades at the height of the baby boom, and Great (Leona Buttrick), who taught in a one-room schoolhouse and quit teaching once she married my great-grandfather Hatley. Although these are stories for another time, their careers illustrate massive changes in public education.
Funnily enough, the teaching tradition isn’t exactly confined to mom’s side of the family. Even though neither of my dad’s parents had the opportunity to further their education, they highly encouraged their children to do so. Both did, and even though my dad and his sister didn’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on much of anything, I find it telling that they both married teachers. On the Suszko side of Dad’s family, there are several special education and agricultural teachers. In fact, my cousin Kristy, a woman with whom I attended school at all levels from kindergarten to college, now teaches dairy science at the university level.
As much as I did not want to admit it, I am a teacher. It took me far too long to make peace with that fact. Something inside me would not let it go. As soon as I graduated from Michigan State in 2004 with degrees in supply chain management and Spanish, my entire world shifted. It would not be made right again until I went back to school in 2013.
It all started during the Great Recession with a casual conversation with my ex’s mom Cindy. We were invited to dinner as usual, and Cindy and I struck up a conversation. She told me that she wished that she’d gone back to school to become a nurse. All I could think at the time was that I did not want to be in my 50s and regret not pursuing an interest. During the Christmas shopping season of 2008, I worked at Best Buy in Saginaw. As I lived in the South End of Bay City at the time, I drove by Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU) every day on my way to work. Slowly, I started to wonder what would happen if I did decide to go back to school to become a teacher. The idea excited me and fed my imagination. How could I make it happen? How would I adjust? Online classes, in their infancy back in 2004, intimidated me.
Eventually, I had the ability to make it happen in 2013. I largely enjoyed my time at Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU), although I would advise commuter students to do their homework. For example, if I had not followed up with my advisor, I would have stressed out about the math portion of the general MTTC exam necessary to even apply to the College of Education. I didn’t necessarily doubt my ability to do higher-level math likely trigonometry and low-level calculus, but I had not remotely touched those subjects in well over a decade. The thought terrified me. Much to my relief, my counselor informed me that I scored high enough on the ACT test I took in high school that I did not need to take the general MTTC at all. I then questioned why I wasn’t informed earlier. She simply stated that it likely stemmed from the fact that I was a commuter and a non-traditional student. While I would highly recommend SVSU to traditional college students coming right from high school, I’m not so sure in other situations.
I enjoyed most of my classes and professors at both Delta College and SVSU, but I can’t say that I didn’t have any bad experiences. In fact, one professor and class at SVSU stands out for all of the wrong reasons. This particular professor taught a class that focused on diversity. However, somehow, throughout the entire semester, he managed to offend nearly everyone in the class. Horribly. He supposedly hated coaches. When I ran into a former classmate in a school setting years later, we naturally discussed this infamous class and professor. This man, who happened to coach as well as teach, informed me that this professor tried to get him removed from the College of Education program, likely because he planned to coach.
Somehow, this professor appeared to have no issue with me or one of my good friends, even though he had long ago deeply offended us both. As we paired up to complete our main teaching project for the course, things fell apart. When it came time to “teach” our project, our professor respected my teaching time and even seemed pleased. Then, he proceeded to continually interrupt my friend and teaching partner for her entire portion of the project. He made it exceedingly difficult for her to even finish. Already extraordinarily introverted, I have no idea how she made it through. Disrespectful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Unfortunately, she never did become a teacher, although she would have been wonderful. Instead, she became a librarian. To this day, I still believe that the world needs introverted teachers too. There are too many people like this professor that discourage future teachers every step of the way before they even get started.
Stay tuned … There is much more to this story.
Not just my favorite TED Talk on education and teaching, my favorite TED Talk period.
I just found out today is National Author’s Day. How appropriate! The creative writing club I started at school met this afternoon at the end of the school day. There is never a dull meeting. They are so passionate about their interests, including but not limited to writing. I’ve watched as members have bonded over music and other media. It is inspiring how they support one another, too.
In the online school environment, there aren’t quite as many opportunities to strike up friendships with classmates as in brick and mortar. Personally, I think that is why school clubs are so vital in an online school environment. Last year, my first year teaching online, I watched as students planned for weeks and even months for the in-person prom held at the Lansing Center. Students attended from all over Michigan. The pictures, conversations, and friendships made that evening were discussed repeatedly as the school year came to a close. I can only hope that that same can be said when I reflect on the creative writing club at the end of the school year.
In my first year as mentor and creator of the club, I sought to find the best possible resources for aspiring high school writers. Luckily, my online classroom set aside for our new club allowed me to do just that. It is now a place where students can collaborate, offer one another and seek encouragement, as well as find resources and inspiration. I can only imagine if I had had such a resource in high school. I admit, I’ve had too much fun setting things up. So far, my entire experience with the creative writing club has underscored the importance of community as a writer.
Face it: Writing can be lonely work. Over the years, I’ve always enjoyed meeting other writers. I can’t imagine where I’d be as a writer without Mid-Michigan Writers. I’ve learned so much from other members over the years, and I would not have discovered Delta College’s general writing certificate program if I hadn’t attended MMW’s Gateway to Writing workshop with other writers who raved about the experience. If my students take away anything from our creative writing club, I do hope that they realize the importance of community for writers. Brainstorming works best with others! At some point, we could all use a second opinion. We all have to learn from someone. I can’t imagine not having my very own community of writers and readers. Happy National Author’s Day!
Why do I write? I write because I must write. I have a story within me that must be told. There may be other ways to tell that story, but writing fits me – and more importantly, it fits the story I need to tell. I’ve dabbled in many forms of writing over the years, everything from daily throw away articles to blogging to academic papers. I view it all as preparation for writing a larger story.
More than anything, writing allows me to organize all the seemingly random thoughts rambling around my head. I love reading what I wrote years ago as it normally takes me back to a certain time and place. It is a way for me to see just how much I’ve grown over the years, both personally and as a writer.
As a teacher, it saddens me when students tell me they hate to read and write. In my mind, my love of writing grew out of my love of reading. I loved to read as a child – and I still love to read. Reading and writing are so intertwined in my life that it is difficult for me to tell where one begins and the other ends. For example, something I plan to write will inspire me to read a certain book. Other times, a book I pick up because it looks good will inspire me to write. One of my all-time favorite books, Reading Like A Writer by Francine Prose, sums up the symbiotic relationship perfectly. In fact, it changed how I read as a writer in every sense of those words. As long as I have books, paper, and pen, I will never be bored.
Writing, to me, also means a sense of community. I’ve taken writing classes at the local community college, spent years as a member of Mid-Michigan Writers, Inc., and attended workshops and seminars for writers. I have yet to meet one writer who didn’t have something to offer others, whether it be a new critique technique, a new source of writing prompts, or information on various programs for writers. As with teachers, writers are happy to share. We can all learn from one another.
The wonderful thing about writing is that it can be personal or shared, solitary or social, and organized or spontaneous. There is room for all types, and there is no one set of rules that apply to everyone. I love that young and old have access to reading and writing. Unlike many sports, there is no expiration date. There is no real barrier to entry other than basic literacy. I like to think that my writing will just get better with age, like a fine wine. It inspires me that many writers did not find their way until late in life. Above all, there is no stopping a great story.
Let’s face it: Good storytelling isn’t going anywhere, whether that means books, movies, television, or something else entirely. As long as there is hunger for a good story, there will be writers. I am proud to be a part of that tradition.
Ever since schools closed on Friday, March 13th, so many people have posted about spring break trips, proms, graduations, and so much more being cancelled and/or postponed. I’ve watched others shame those same people truly grieving their loss by stating things such as “at least you’re healthy” and “how can you think of things at a time like this?” What awful things to say!
While graduations and field trips certainly aren’t the sickness or loss of a loved one – no one is making that comparison – most of us are suffering from loss at this point. We have lost our “normal” and working like hell to get to a “new normal,” whatever that may be. As a teacher, I’m in awe at how teachers have come together. I belong to a Google Classroom group on Facebook, and the activity I’ve witnessed over the last few weeks is unreal. So many strangers, all teachers or in education, coming to help one another help students across the United States and the world. In fact, I’ve had my own crash course over the last few weeks. In fact, that is precisely why I am a teacher, I love to keep learning and then share what I’ve learned with my students.
When all this madness is over, and things return to “normal” – and they will – it is my hope that we are all kinder and gentler with one another. Hopefully this will bring many people closer to God. I also hope that it brings everyone, students included, a new appreciation for their everyday lives. It already has for me. As stressed out as I was at the end of last trimester, I’d love to be worried about planning all the fun things for March is reading month and the end of the school year again. So, I am taking some time to grieve my loss of normal – and you should too. When this is over, we are all going to love on each other and support our neighborhoods, small businesses, and cities, towns, and villages like never before. Personally, I am hoping for a great party out on the river!
All I can say is that there will be time to reschedule those missed spring break trips, make those memories with your seniors, and generally make up for lost time. I am looking forward to that day, and I expect to be so busy that I will be tempted to complain. Until then, I will just keep plugging away.
Through all of this, seniors – the class of 2020 – has been on my mind. I hope that when this is all over, we will have the opportunity to properly celebrate all their accomplishments. I think we are all grieving all the celebrations, events, you name it that have been cancelled at this point. While I know some people have expressed anger at people getting upset over cancellations, it is only human that we grieve all the experiences we’ve lost. Does that mean we shouldn’t take precautions or help those in need because we are bummed that our events were cancelled? No. It just means that we are grieving a valid loss – at this point, we all are.
I don’t know what these next few weeks or months will bring, but I do know that we will work through this together. One of the silver linings of all of this is the time to work on projects that have been put on hold indefinitely. For example, I’ve toyed with the idea of playing around with podcasting for some time, and tonight, I think I will finally start. We will see where it goes! I am also planning to play around with sharing podcasts with my students too. Much more to come!
Today I am happy to share an e-mail interview with Mari L. McCarthy. It is all about the power of journaling! Check it out below:
Why did you decide to start journaling in the first place?
It was for physical therapy purposes only. I had an MS episode where I lost most use of the right side of my body, and I needed to teach myself how to write with my left hand ASAP.
When did you notice a connection between journaling and how you felt physically, spiritually, and mentally?
Right away. I got started with Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages, and the three stream-of-consciousness pages first thing every morning took me on a magical mystery tour. I started hearing rhymes and started writing poetry for the first time in my life. And, I started remembering things from my childhood 60 years ago and experiencing it as if it was happening right now. I was able to process the events through the pages, became aware of how many erroneous thoughts and feelings I was carrying around in my body, and created new thoughts that reduced all kinds of mental, physical and spiritual stress.
Who do you think could benefit most from journaling daily?
Everyone. We all have had challenging childhoods where we just sucked in everything, including a lot of erroneous thoughts and feelings (I call them issues in our tissues). Journaling provides us the opportunity to understand the origins of our crazy thinking and shows us how to reframe our thought process.
What advice would you give someone who is just starting on their journaling journey?
Journaling is about facing our fears, learning how to manage our negativity and inner critics, and reclaiming our power. That is monumental behavior change. Take it easy. Journaling is about thinking with your heart and soul. Our overanalytical head has been in change for so long she’s afraid of losing control. My recommendation is to ask your journal a question and then free-write fast until you feel – my favorite 4 letter F word – like stopping.
What do you think is the biggest roadblock for those who want to make journaling a daily habit and fail to do so?
We are our biggest roadblock. We are experienced in self-sabotage and in having an unhealthy relationship with ourselves. Fear has controlled us since forever, and it is scary and a lot of hard work to explore our inner world. Plus, we were raised to think that alone time is so selfish. It is a totally new experience to work through the pain and heal our wounds.
Do you prefer to handwrite or type your journal entries? Which would you recommend to those new to journaling?
Pen to paper every day is the only way to get all the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health benefits that are available to you from journaling. Jumping right in and freewriting is a good start. Make sure you breathe and understand that your head (ego, inner critic, other voices…) will go crazy. Writing fast will show them you are in charge.
Why do you think journaling has such a profound effect on our lives and how we perceive ourselves?
I don’t know. I can only tell you that I have monumentally healed, grown and transformed myself thanks to journaling. I live a compassionate (!) unconditional love-in with myself, and it grows every day. In my first book, Journaling Power: How to Create the Happy, Healthy Life You Want to Live, I have results from scientific studies that are researching and monitoring this magical, mysterious self-healing process.
Aside from journaling, how else do you think writing can help us lead better lives?
Writing is creative self-expression, and we have so much inside of us that we’ve been stuffing down for so long. Writing is giving ourselves permission to be the truly talented (wild and crazy) person we are and share our brilliance with the world.
What do you think we as writers can learn from our journaling patterns (i.e. the topics we keep coming back to time and time again)?
Besides the therapeutic value journaling has, it gives us great ideas for poetry, essays, characters for fiction writing.
Aside from journaling, what advice would you give readers eager to live their best lives?
Carve out “ME” (self-care) time every day where you can just be with yourself. We’re great doers and care takers and fixers and…. What we need to do is put ourselves first and work on reconnecting and staying connected to our true self every day.
Mari, thank you for sharing such great advice and insight with my readers! Best of luck with the rest of your blog tour.
It’s strange to think how much might change this summer. A week ago last Friday I finished my school year, and I have no idea what 2019-2020 will bring. Ideally, I will find a full-time teaching position teaching social studies, Spanish, or business at the middle school or high school level. It is long overdue. It is time for a classroom of my own, but where?
Unfortunately, this spring hasn’t exactly gone according to plan. Something always comes between me and my dreams. I finally find a place where I can easily see myself teaching, and in the end, I may not have the correct certification to apply for existing openings. While things are humming along at the canoe livery, the weather has not cooperated yet. We are waiting on customers. Where is everyone?
I know that things will come together, but it is the uncertainty that is getting to me. I wish I had something in place. I do not know what decision I will make if I do not find a full-time teaching position. Even though I do not plan or want to move, I may be left with no choice. Something’s got to give. Here’s to a summer of new beginnings!
Mother’s Day will never not be emotional for me. I am continuously torn between celebrating the wonderful women in my life who made me who I am today – not just Mom, but both my grandmas and Joyce, my childhood neighbor, babysitter, and essentially adopted grandmother – and struggling with my own path to motherhood. All those women helped shape me morally, spiritually, and intellectually.
Mom, of course, continues to do so. I still crave her advice. I am so grateful for her friendship; her example, not only as a mother, but as a teacher, business woman, Christian; and her unconditional love. All of it. Somewhere along the path to adulthood, she also became my best friend.
Mom, Dad, and I ~ 1983
In the past, I dreaded Mother’s Day. Working retail in my 20s, strangers wishing me a “Happy Mother’s Day!” broke my heart and left me feeling empty. They all meant well. That’s the problem: One never knows who is struggling with infertility, pregnancy, strained relationships, loss, etc. For the longest time, I felt the same way at church on Mother’s Day, until I no longer did. A simple acknowledgement that some struggle with a whole variety of issues relating to motherhood made all the difference. Watching others grieve and acknowledge the loss of their own mothers made me realize that I am far from alone.
If I am completely honest with myself, recent events have made me question whether I do want to adopt, my only path to motherhood. In fact, it is part of the reason why I have been so silent here lately. Fortunately, my parents support me no matter what I decide, but what I wouldn’t give to be able to talk to my grandmas and Joyce right now. I could use their advice and wisdom now more than ever. All three would have something to say – all different – and force me to think of something I had overlooked.
Grandma Reid and I ~ 1985
If I do decide not to adopt, the hardest part will be having to change my perception of myself. I do not remember just how young I was at the time, but the first thing I remember wanting out of life is to be a mother. Fortunately, that is the beautiful thing about all of this. If I decide not to adopt, in many ways, I am still a mother. I have a great relationship with my nephews and niece. Spending time with my niece the other evening, she randomly told me that she wanted to come spend the night at my house. It didn’t work out that evening, but a sleepover is in the works once school is out. I want to be that aunt. My niblings are finally reaching the ages where I can be that aunt.
As a teacher, I influence children every day. I truly care for all my students, even if I am just their substitute teacher for a day or two. It doesn’t matter. So many students do not have much support at home. As a teacher, I can put my maternal instincts to good use. I can be the teacher that cheers them on at school. I know for a fact that I have already made a difference. I just need to step it up as I truly start my teaching career.
I may yet decide to adopt, but I need to give myself time and space to make that decision. I finally concluded that it isn’t the end of the world if I do not. When and if I do decide to adopt, I can say with certainty that I have thought of all possibilities and outcomes. If it is meant to be, I know that my son or daughter is out there waiting for me.
I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but I did find my voice. Now to keep it. I admit it: I struggle to fit everything in and cross all my T’s and dot all my I’s, especially this time of year. So many things are coming together, but I am just not quite there yet. I need to fit my writing into my temporary schedule. Maybe now would be a good time to figure out exactly what it is that I want.
So, what do I want out of my writing life? It is simple. I want room in my life to practice writing daily – both personally and here at Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde. I need room to grow as a writer. I now have the proper tools and the right support systems in place: it is just a matter of making time. I also want to keep contributing to other blogs, online publications, etc. Again, I am getting there.
Lately my writing made me reevaluate what I want in my personal life. What I’ve written here in earlier pieces is true. On one hand, I do want a family. On the other, it is not the end of the world if it doesn’t happen. I have too many things I want to do in life. What am I willing to give up? What can’t I live without? How am I supposed to make that choice?
I think that is it. Over the last fifteen years or so, I’ve been forced to give up so many things, including several versions of what my life could be. How do I avoid becoming attached to one outcome? There are so many things in my life to explore. I hope I never lose my desire to try new things. That is part of my problem though. It is time I start making some commitments. In doing so, I hope I am never so inflexible that I am unwilling to start over when I need to do so. The day I quit trying is the day I die. I may still physically be here, but that could not be called living.
Who is to say that my life needs to be a certain way? I flat-out reject that idea. I need to do what is best for me. What that looks like now, I’m not sure. I do know I am not quite ready to trust again. At this point, I don’t know if I ever will be. Does it matter? I need to focus on my myself, and if the right man is out there, he will find me. It is time to let it go.
Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde 