Think happy thoughts.

Merry Christmas virtual world!

It's not a secret that this school year has been a rough one. Sure, it's a great gig at a successful high school. But I am light years behind in my relationships with students. And I can't seem to get my head out of the sand.

At Christmas, I end up sifting through my goodies from high school- trophies, photos, notes from friends during class, birthday cards ands graduation cards, and other bobbles and knick knacks. This year, the year I need it, I find some quality long-forgotten notes. And hid some not so great memories...

Kappa sisters wrote notes to graduating seniors and what do I find? Notes from sisters! About my ability to motivate, my sense of life and my pursuit of excellence. That I'm an inspiration and have a strong presence. A few were scared of me at first (imagine that!!?)- until I smiled or hugged them and personally knew their story. They were sad to see me go!

In short, in sweet notes written years ago, my sisters shared their love and respect for me. Now, those words mean so much in a time where I need to feel hope. I needed a boost- some encouragement that my purpose is to teach these hoodlums and inspire them, motivate them - when the times are tough. If that's the role I've been practicing for since college, or earlier, I need to get it together.

I need to find strength in my history and find motivation- the same motivation that I need to sell to teenagers. I need to recognize my ability to inspire and my powerful presence. I've been blessed with developing strong relationships quickly and also finding a way to help others find their path.

Someone help me. What is my path? Is it teaching?

Thanks to all those lovely sorority sisters out there who wrote me notes to wish me well for graduation, I know I'm into teaching and need to experience a rebirth. Those notes probably took 5 minutes to write, but today, 8 years later, I read them for 30 minutes.

And they've reminded me I'm destined to teach. So I need to suck it up and figure out a way to make this year better.

Food. And Denver food

A friend and I went out to eat tonight to catch up and eat. And we ate! It made me realize that Denver has a great variety of damn good food.

Tonight- Euclid Hall, but we got there and it was closed for a private event. Luckily, the guy gave us free drink cards. I'll take it. It's known for small batch brews from around the world with a great German menu.

So we ended up at Rioja. I've been waiting to go there. Mediterranean. They are known for their Colorado lamb. We went to Africa on that plate. It was full of spice and flavor. There was a sausage with a cream sauce, a few different sauces. A couscous bundle of joy and flavorful, roasted leeks. Ah! So good. And, the Thai scallops with a hint of pineapple and a small polenta with the scallop. Yummmmm.

A few other great finds:
Root Down. Linger. Olivea. Duo. Shells and Sauce. Denver Biscuit co. Lucille's. Jelly. Sushi den. Ale House. Any Mexican or pho on federal ave. Watercourse. Madison st. Über sausage. Sweet action ice cream. Table 6. Lala. Lola. St marks. Il posto.

There are more, yet to be discovered.

I love yoga, running and snowboarding. I get to fuel up at great places and then play hard.

Thanks to all our Denver chefs for making Denver a new foodie city!

Thanksgiving food!

First, we made prime rib medium rare. It was done perfectly!

We had a tasty goat cheese, roasted pear salad with an apricot vinaigrette. Because I sautéed the pears, the goat cheese melted a little and mixed with the vinaigrette. So delicious! The sweet potatoes were done perfectly with a little brown sugar and pecans.

I made my bourbon pumpkin pie with pecan streusel topping. The bourbon and crushed pecans in the pie make this a party in your mouth and a step away from diabetes.

And. We made the most delicious, messy sandwich with leftover prime rib. Imagine this: prime rib bacon, onion, a fried egg, some mustard and horseradish all on toasted bread. We made it up, mostly Kathleen.

This ones really great. We took all our salsas and the horseradish and mixed them up to make a dipping sauce for the fingerling taters I made, baked with garlic and pepper, and dill.

I'm thankful for...college!

How much fun my amazing friends are!

Lexie moved to Denver and life got so much better. She's my lifelong friend and we are both so fortunate to have each other. Awe, so sentimental but so true!
Steve is moving here in a few months. What?! Is this real? He's our first friend at Loyola, he took some big consequences for us that first night of living in Creighton hall......We are indebted for a few more years.
I get to visit my Chicago crew every few months, and they come here too! We love food and when ya'll are back, I've got a list of places for us to check out! We run, hike, drink, laugh and recover together. We even play iPad games and have fun. Ha
And my sister even moved west! Thanks Ash!
I'm thankful every day for the beautiful, strong, smart, loyal, honest, hilarious, positive people that make me who I am.
I'd like to think each of us borrows the best of each other and makes it part of who we are.
When I get a mani/pedi, I think of ______*?
When I'm being a foodie, I think of :
____*?
When I'm in a little pain from working out, I remember to send good karma to...*?
When international travel crosses my mind, I always think of __*?
When I pass St. Mary's glacier, I send love to Chicago!

Weekday Winter Warrior

Winter is beautiful in Colorado. The snow in the mountains creates a sense of innocence in the people you see and the small towns you drive through. There is an overwhelming feeling that I get, that I am smaller than I think I am when it snows. All that fresh, white powder covers the mountains and roads saying, "here you go, a clean slate. Start something new, be free of your constraints." That is what I can hear when I'm blanketed by snow.

Then I hear the slice of my skis into the freshly groomed trails and hear myself say, again, 'I LIVE here!? HERE? No way.'

Pause. One of my closest friends sent an email with a great quote: Be old enough to appreciate your freedom, and young enough to enjoy it. Finally know who you are.

I know who I am because I found the place where I feel at home. Chicago was a temporary home and I still feel connected to the city every time I am walking the streets, on the EL and running on Lake Michigan. But Colorado, wow. I know I belong here because I've got the gear to prove it and the seasonal ski rental to show my commitment. And a lot of great friends to laugh with and share our time and love for this state together by running trails, snowboarding, skiing, and discovering more state parks full of fun! I am committed to living life to the fullest out here.

Final exam time is one of the greatest weeks of being at teacher. I didn't have to be at the school for the day I didn't proctor an exam. Wednesday at about 11 AM I left school, picked up a boy and headed to the mountains. We got a few hours of skiing on Wednesday, woke up and skied the next morning. WHAT?! This is my life!? Take advantage of this weekday freedom and get out there and ski!

Being judged

We've all done it.

You meet someone new, and a snap judgment takes hold in your heart and memory. Why does that snapshot come without the delete, or crop, button?

It's sinful to judge others; we aren't qualified to vote anyone off the island or take away another person's opportunity. God wants us to live in the image of Jesus...loving, compassionate, driven by faith and forgiveness. He accepts everyone. Every One. How does he do that? Why is that so difficult for me?

God will judge me one day and you know what, I'm ready. I'm ready to kneel before God and thank him for his grace and mercy because I sure as heck don't deserve forgiveness. I've chosen sin. I've fallen for temptation.

I also glorify God and praise him for the beauty he has created. He made this majestic state of Colorado. He created my family, and put the right friends in my life.

When will I start to fully fill my life with His love?

He will judge me and I shouldn't worry, be sad or broken, when I feel misjudged. Because it is all in His hands.

Xoxo

Mountain town: population 1200

2 weeks ago, Katherine and I were chatting via our school messenger and decided to book a hotel room in Crested Butte. My initial thoughts: On the search for a mountain man with a burly beard, leather skin and a knack for hunting dinner. That was my dream fall break. It's obvious he will be a stellar skier or boarder.

We heard the live music, saw the lights on, heard laughter and cheer and saw the PBR on tap. I scanned the room for the blue-eyes that could catch me and take me to the dance floor. Instead, we walked thru the...what's that generation? Oh, yeah, a bunch of baby boomers. And their kids... and some 7 year olds. The silver fox was a little too leather faced for me.

So, because we SCREAMED "we are tourists" we left. And walked to the touristy brewery.

How do people find love in crested butte, with a population of 1200?

Dan Meyer: Math class needs a makeover | Video on TED.com

Dan Meyer: Math class needs a makeover | Video on TED.com

orange leaves and running uphill

WOW. Time flies. Where have I been?

Oh yeah, that silly 6:45 AM wake up call started in August and there goes my life. I think Kenny Chesney sings about that. You look back - and where did it all go?

Hours of running around Denver, on the front range trails and along the Pacific ocean coastline paid off. Denver Rock and Roll marathon was a.... real marathon. This is the marathon where I felt my calves turn into bricks, my stride slow so much I didn't know if I was running and I had to baby crawl up and down my stairs at home. For 2 days.

yoga - you are more important than clipping my toenails on race day.

I felt great during the first half of the race but once I was in Wash Park the weight of my long sleeve t-shirt became unbearable and I shed that thing and thought I lost 2 pounds when I tossed that to the side. It was the easiest 2 lbs I'll ever lose!

My new roommate, Emily - she's awesome. Her friends- pretty cool too. Well, of course - they are all from the Midwest. They jumped in at mile 20 and this was no regular pacing team. This was the best-dressed team of the whole marathon.


That dinosaur/gator tail was crucial to my success. I reached out like a baby from a stroller going for their bottle and had that tail whip me forward.

But then. Mile 25 came. maybe Mile 24.5
And South Logan turns into a vertical, undefined slope, hill. Math people - you get me, right? This thing was straight up. Funny, I run this hill often but today, they cranked that thing up like it was a drawbridge and I was running up with the increased incline.

My team was positive, encouraging, and played Juanes. When Juanes came on, life was back to great. I had a little Latina step in my run and finished strong.

PR of 3:51. Next time? Under 3:50! Then maybe.. Boston @ 3:35 or faster!

Watch "Re: Visual Multiplication and 48/2(9+3)" on YouTube

Weekend in Seattle!!

Campfire Antics

So my job is great for a few reasons...
TOP TEN REASONS TO WORK AT DSST
1) summer break and federal holidays (but we forgot about Cesar Chavez day..ahem)
2) only students know how to use the sound system. staff are all clueless.
3) BSBA (before school basketball association, duh)
4) the kids. after school
5) PLD when we get coffee from Einstein's - we should just hire a barista with Oprah's money. Really. That is what fuels a school and a movement.
6) pi. not pie. is way cool where I work.
7) lunch conversations go something like this, "is normal matter really dark matter?"
8) echoing classrooms. and we are a STEM school
9) the new mayor gives the opening speech for the new school year to staff the first week we start walking up before 10 AM. and I am late. oops
.......drum roll....
10) CAMPFIRE at our retreat in estes. the newcomers spill the beans on most embarrassing moments, truths and dares that reveal the depths of their soul and entertain the oldies with impersonations of staff members, including their new bosses. And they keep their jobs and are some of the best in the country at what we do - educate.

Week 1 with the kids and we are ready to ROCK on. I am SO excited for this year because I get a fresh start at teaching math. And this year - a little something special - I am teaching 10th grade alg/geo so I get some of the same kids from last year :) Gotta love two years with Ms. Karnowski

my greatest hope is that I have strong, positive relationships with all my students.

my greatest fear? that students fail the class.

Oat chocolate chip pecan cookies

It's a small taste of fall....but so good!
They've got pecans, chocolate chips, oats, pumpkin instead of butter, almond extract and fresh nutmeg and cinnamon. So good!!

A farmers delight!

At the farmers market I purchased some grass fed Colorado beef! And a few veggies too....my dinner was 90% farmers market and was rounded off by a few grocery store finds, most of which were local products anyway.

We've got a beet, walnut, goat cheese salad. The beets were roasted in a shallot, honey basalmic vinagrette. Delicious!

Then, I made burgers from the ground beef using jalapeno, mushrooms and some shallots. Downside: no outdoor grill. So we used the George.

And of course, loads of tomato and avocado!

Local food means loads of flavor and this dinner was great! Plus, my great friend and freshman college roommate is now living with me, so we had a fabulous time!

The (lack of) biodiversity in our food

I'm awakened and convicted by the facts, the hidden truths revealed and the desperate thirst for fulfillment. The Omnivore's Dilemma, by Michael Pollen

Ask yourself, what did you eat for breakfast today?

If you said cereal and milk - where did that milk come from? Which cow supplied your milk? Were there hormones? Was it a grass-fed cow? Or was it corn-fed, unnaturally, just to fatten it up quicker so we can get our milk faster?

If you said eggs and bacon - oh boy. Were the eggs from an industry farm where the hens lay eggs in crates like this:


Did your bacon come from a place like this:

or like this:


What questions do you ask yourself when you are eating?
- Does this taste good?
- Does this have enough protein for my dietary needs?
- Was this egg produced with hormones?
- Should I worry about E. Coli right now?
- How many cows went into making my hamburger?
- Would I be able to find the hen that laid this egg, or is she a number in 20,000?
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
The biggest take away for me after reading this book - and still reading it - is this:
I live in Colorado, I need to eat Colorado meat and vegetables. When I can't, I want to know where and how my food was produced. What I eat is who I am and I do not want to be a hormone-laden, medically-treated, unnaturally corn-fed, corn by-product. I want to slice into my blood and see that the calories running through my body are sun-kissed, grass-fed, naturally produced and following nature's cycle. Ihttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif don't want to slice into my skin and see excess nitrogen, drug cocktails from cows, corn-like substances and unnaturally fed meat products. What next? Tell you all about this book, about sustainable farming and give you a way to make changes.

Go to and find a farm near you to buy your meat, eggs, and dairy. Find the farmer's market closest to you and support local agriculture. Sure, it is hard to eat 100% local because we have been trained to buy packaged, processed and fortified foods. Find your local farmer's marker here:

cost-conscious people beware: you will pay more for your food now. But you will have less medicine to buy, less trips to the doctor, less chance of heart disease, diabetes, obesity, depression, and on and on and on...

How did God intend for us to take care of our bodies? He gave us meat and vegetables to cultivate, harvest and prepare. He gave us a conscious to know what we should be eating and what we should not. As we get to know our food, we get to know ourselves. We are what we eat.

So what type of person will you become?

Teach for America Institute

This August I start year 5 in the classroom but this summer I took a walk down memory lane and worked at institute, TFA's teacher boot camp to prepare the new corps for 2 years of serving our nation's low income communities. I took on the role of CMA, not crystal meth anonymous, but corps member adviser. What a trip! I was part counselor, coach, mentor, teacher, manager, colleague, analyst and student. 11 of our nations brightest minds made it through the 50,000 applicants to be part of about 4500 new corps.

We wake up at 5 AM and I observe, coach and analyze the new teachers all day. Back at ASU, I start meeting with corps members around 6 PM and don't stop until 9PM. Sometimes, instead of meeting with corps members, we've got meetings. On a lucky day, I'm at the gym for 40 minutes.

Why work 18 hour days? Why do I put myself in a vulnerable position to receive so much critical feedback, be the shoulder someone cries on, and read lesson plan after lesson plan (up to 20+ a day)?

Because now there are 11 teachers prepared for their own classrooms. Those 11 teachers are middle and high school teachers who will each teach about 100 students this year. Those 100 students will have effective first year teachers. Because I was able to coach, mentor and advise them for 5 weeks.

When an upcoming 8th grade student asks questions like, "how do I get a scholarship?" "what do I need to do to get a laptop?" "how did you know what to study?" how could I not be grounded in what we do - training teachers was almost more satisfying then teaching my own kids. I got to see teachers build connections with colleagues and kids, make a kid believe in himself, invest kids in their education, and share success stories about their kids. It was so inspiring!

Our World. There are no skies to limit us :)

A Dream Box

If I didn't join Teach for America... where would I be right now? I am about to finish year 4 of teaching math - how did that happen?

I I wasn't teaching...
I'd be living somewhere in South America with a backpack, my snowboard and better dancing flow.

I can't think of anything else I would want to do. Ha.

Because I did join Teach for America, now I want to...
- work as a policy analyst or consultant to get the DREAM Act/ASSET bill passed. I want ALL students to have the opportunity to go to college for in-state tuition. If a kid goes through K-12 in Colorado, aren't they a resident of Colorado? C'mon America.

OR

- work for immigration reform in Washington DC, Arizona, Colorado or California to help legal US children who were born into undocumented families get health insurance. Did you know that a US citizen who has parents that are undocumented doesn't have access to health care until they are 18!? YIKES. Remember when you had ear infections, needed stitches and went to the dentist and got a prize from the treasure chest?

OR

- be a ski bum in Crested Butte, Steamboat or Telluride. Then run marathons in the summer and fall.

Ah, the beauty of life is that I just might do any one of these things sometime soon. Teaching a blast, for now.

Inspired, and Defeated

I was inspired today.

My students came to me to sponsor a club - speak! - a club focused on listening to slam poetry, reading and then creating their own poetic performance. Today I heard things like, "you can't knock abortion at 16 years old unless you know what its like to be 16 and pregnant" and then "it's just like the people that don't agree with universal health care, they've had health care their whole lives and don't know what its like to pay for the ER every time you go" and then - "I don't want to play the race card, and I don't like to play the race card, but when people freak out that britney's on crack and act all shocked but then don't even flinch when you hear TI's trippin' on drugs, it's expected."

I also heard them talking about how their generation is getting a bad rap for being the generation that feels entitled. Then I heard them explain why they are perceived that way, explained their upbringing and AGREE that they were raised that way. The best part? They provided solutions.
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I was introduced to this guy - Carlos - and was inspired. And defeated.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qnl_zG2KwR0

How do I teach kids about finding the volume of a cylinder when this is going on? How do kids motivate themselves to become good at finding the greatest common factor of a fraction when someone is getting shot? Why would a teenager want to know more about the negative gravitational pull of Earth when there are teen moms struggling to buy formula and diapers?

Why do I feel so defeated - and yet so inspired? This juxtaposition is something that keeps me teaching, and pulls me toward public policy activism. I want to expose the hard truth but change the truth.

I turned 26!

This is a text by Sandra Cisneros, a Latina writer and alum of Loyola Chicago. She has written "House on Mango Street" and a few other texts that are filled with love, passion and insight into the Latino spirit.

What they don't understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four. and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything's just like yesterday. only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you're still ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eleven.
Like some days you might say something stupid. and that's the part of you that's still ten Or maybe some days you might need to Sit on your momma's lap because you’re scared. and that's the part of you that's five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like when you're three, and that's okay. That's what I tell Mama when she's sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.
Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rungs inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That's how being eleven years old is.
You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven when they ask you. And you don’t feel smart eleven. not until you're almost twelve. That's the way it is.

I teach for....

I teach so that my students will ONE DAY stand in front of a room of people and share how one teacher changed their life.

I teach so that students can advocate for themselves and know they deserve the best from themselves and demand a great education, from their teachers and earn scholarships for college.

I teach to change the minds of the people living outside of poverty and low income communities, so they can hear from me that all students, regardless of their bank account (or lack thereof) can and will achieve at the same level as their wealthier counterparts.

I teach to instill a love of learning to kids that hate school. Math rocks!

I teach to prove the doubters wrong. A student from the "wrong side of the tracks" knows hard work, knows college is a goal, knows their life will change for their family with an education....because great teachers teach change.

I teach for social justice and the future of this country.

Thanks to Teach for America for opening up this opportunity and helping me find myself and my ONE day....

One day, my students will be leaders and problem solvers.

Spring and New Beginnings

I love the smell of spring. You know the feeling, the first day you sense that the dirt is churning out baby tulips and the sunlight feels warmer. Opening the front door and seeing the City Park lake, the slightly greener grass and feeling a light, fresh breeze is why spring is my favorite season. Sure, I love snowboarding but I don't like winter driving, winter boots and dark afternoons.

This spring, I booted a not-so-great guy and feel good about it. Spring cleaning applies to boys as well as underused jeans, shoes and old jewelry - they all find a different, and hopefully more well-suited purpose, in another persons life.

My new beginning this spring will start in June. I am heading back to the orange and pink skies of Phoenix for 6 weeks to work at the Teach for America Institute: boot camp for new corps members. I will be an adviser to a group of fresh teachers, most of them will have just received their college diplomas before heading to Phoenix. Call it Greek Week initiation and education on steroids - good ones. We will shape and develop this country's best and brightest to become effective teachers in our country's lost and forgotten neighborhoods and towns.

I am looking forward to the high energy, the excitement and the eagerness of new teachers. After 4 years, I still love teaching - but I know that this opportunity will be rejuvenating, provide fresh perspective and help me blossom. Just like the emerging tulips this spring, not only will I be planting a love of teaching but I will hopefully learn how to grow and prosper from my colleagues from around the nation.

PHX, here I come!

La Semilla/The Seed

I was inspired to write a poem around the theme: Beginnings. Our high school does a Poetry Cafe frequently where students and staff can submit and read their poetry in front of the whole school during one of our morning meetings before academic classes begin.

This month, I was up late, unable to sleep and this poem came to me in its infancy and has metamorphosed to where it is today, and how I read it today in front of my students and fellow teachers.

The inspiration? The beginning of my life was when I studied abroad in Santiago, Chile so that is where this stems from. This is my story of self-discovery.

La Semilla


Sus palabras fueron una tormenta de sonidos
Como una lluvia de fuerte que estaba cayendo sin ritmo

Yo, en un lugar desconocido, con evidencia de bombas y sufrimiento
Me llenaban con dolor

Y una semilla fue sembrada

Tenia verguenza y me sentia perdida en mi identidad
Habia un muerte por impuestos americanos
y un silencio que nos encerro con las heridas escondidas de la gente chilena
Como sobrevivio la gente chilena abajo la mano fatal del dictador?

Maria, llena de gracia
pero lejos de mi corazon
Su sufrimiento y muerte no tuvo valor
Ella fue un peon para dinero y poder
Cuando vi su alma y espiritu?

Y crece la semilla

Fue el cuento de los desaparecidos
Soy nada mas de un grano de arena
Escucha las voces de las madres de Plaza de Mayo

Y la semilla continua creciendo

Llegue, sabia nada. Ahora, nada.

La semilla, me ha dad mi vida

The English version...

Her words were a storm of sounds
Like a strong rain with no rhythm, they fell

In an unknown place, with evidence of bombs and suffering
I was filled with pain

And a seed was planted

I was ashamed and I felt lost in my own identity
There was a death by our taxes
and a silence that surrounded us with
the hidden wounds of the Chilean people
How did they survive under the hand of a fatal dictator?

Maria, full of grace
but so far from my heart

Her suffering and death had no value
She was a pawn for money and power
When did I see her soul and spirit?

And the seed grew

It was the story of the lost and forgotten

I am nothing more than a grain of sand
Listen to the voices of the mothers at Plaza de Mayo

And the seed continued growing

I arrived, knowing everything. Now, nothing.

The seed, it has given me life.

Chicago!!!!

I feel right at home along the lake front path on Lake Michigan. It is one of those places for me that grounds me, reminds me how small I am but also how I fit into this wild, dangerous and adventurous city. Part of me feels like this is home. That always bugged my Michigan family. However, they can't get mad at me for saying that, both sets of grandparents started in Chicago. I ran about 8-9 miles this weekend along that familiar path, where you cross the North Beach bridge, run alongside the massive, thundering waves of Lake Michigan and pass tourists at Navy Pier.

My Polish side - you know it, started in the northwest part of Chicago. My English/Scottish (?) side started out in White Sox territory. My family heritage, I should be a White Sox fan. Sorry, but I am not. Tigers all the way :)

My bestest friends in the whole world still ride the El, enjoy Michelin-star restaurants, battle the wind and find fashionable treasures in Wicker Park, Bucktown and Lakeview. They started their adult lives in this fabulous city and I miss them so much. Why does my semi-hippie, meandering spirit travel away from family and friends? How is it that one type of happiness weighs more on my well-being than the happiness I experience when I am with them?

How do I mix my need for adventure, athletic pursuit and mountain madness with my friends' sensibility at living in the same city, to be each others family? Will it come together? How do I satisfy my need to have these girls in my life but live my life in Denver, Colorado?

We all have those friends - friends for life, regardless of zip code, background, lifestyle. Some stick with their high school friends from childhood, some find friendship and family in their churches. I found mine in Chicago, a big city where I found myself. These friends were there for that journey and I can't wait to share the next 50 years with them.

Luckily, here in Denver I have started to build new friendships, foster new family feelings at holidays and discover more about myself with these new friends. And I am truly thankful for my Denver friends, they are becoming so important to me.

My last-minute plans to head to Chicago, spend a long weekend battling the cold and rain of Chicago winter and consuming so much great food (shout out to The Purple Pig and its fantastic sous chef, Amanda Ray)

But all that grey weather made me realize... I prefer living in Colorado and visiting Chicago

Sometimes someone else says it .....

I love Teach for America. I am a junkie. I think the organization has had tremendous influence within our communities and even if you don't like that teachers get 6 weeks of training and are thrown to the wolves..err..12 year olds..so soon, people are talking more and more about the cracks in the system, the lack of funding for schools and our future leaders, the disparity between rich and poor. TFA expedited the conversations, politics and reform. This weekend, Washington DC will host TFA's 20th anniversary summit. 20,000 some alum and who knows how many corps members. DC is going to have the brightest minds in our country for 2.5 days. I wish I could go, surround myself with the driven, Type A people that work to get students from 1st grade level to 6th grade level, that inspire a love of math in our students, that get undocumented students to college... I am in awe of the power we have to change.

This article is another look at how TFA has influenced our society - and digs into the science behind who we are as TFA teachers and alum.

http://educationnext.org/creating-a-corps-of-change-agents/

Winter? 65 degrees?

Today was energizing. I got out of school at 3PM - no students all day - and when I walked outside our building, I was warm in my jacket. Warm! It is January. 3 weeks ago it was below 0 degrees. What did my lovely Corolla tell me? 65 degrees!

The quiet drive down Montview, with a left in front of the Nature and Science museum, I was dreaming of lacing up my new Brooks Adrenaline running shoes. They know the treadmill, the stepper and the elliptical but these babies haven't taken me around City Park, Cheeseman Park or down 17th Avenue yet. So today I headed toward City Park and my body and heart just jumped into the sunny horizon and instantly, life's stresses go away.

Running is my escape, my freedom, my time to be alone. Do I escape from life, or run to live? I run to live. When I am running, I feel connected to my thoughts, my dreams and I can think. I can put together the puzzle pieces that float around in my head with no puzzle perimeter weighing them down. As I run, all the little puzzle pieces find a spot in my mind; they have a home by the end of 5, 10, 15 miles.

Running keeps me sane, keeps me alive and with it! First outdoor run of the year was inspiring - a success!

First race - half marathon in April, Platte River Half!