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!

Mrs. Potato Head

Remember these fun characters? I loved giving them mismatched limbs and upside-down noses.

My lovely '07 Toyota Corolla has a name. Mrs. Potato Head. Why, you ask? (laughing, and hopefully somewhat concerned)

Last spring, I was snowboarding with a friend at A-Basin and lost my right rear hubcap somewhere between the parking lot and Denver. Potholes, mud and mountain altitude. Still haven't replaced it, even though there are many shops nearby my house.

This summer, with my dear friend Meg from Chicago, I was driving home from the bar one night off South Broadway and my right side-view mirror popped out. Not going into that... but the plastic component is still there, totally fine. Just missing a mirror. Those are not hot commodities on amazon.com. Salvage yard says they don't have them. I am going to check out a different salvage yard, with a different approach.

On the way up to the mountains, we were coaching my lovely car up the hills and to Breck for a weekend of shredding the gnar. We talked about car names, and that I didn't have one. It came down to Mrs. Potato Head or Betty Davis (looks old, but acts young, maybe had a stroke on the right side...) Both were so great!

How on earth did it come to Mrs. Potato Head? You really wanna know?

A pedestrian ran into my car, at dark, with his dog. He and his dog are fine, by the way. They took out my driver's side mirror. It shattered. His fault.

Can 2011 start already?