Teacher Tales – Barbara Heagy

On Children

This past week I was surprised by an email from a former student of mine who I had taught in Senior Kindergarten and Grade 1, 14 years ago. She is now in her 2nd year of university and was in the same city as me and she wondered if we could meet. We had a fun-filled and lively lunch and a thrift store visit for several hours and talked non-stop. We both were so excited and happy to see each other. It was wonderful to hear the influence I had on her as a teacher, even at such a young age. She has grown into a very outgoing, confident young woman. One never knows the direction children may grow as they mature into adults. We plan on seeing each other again.

On Children by Kahlil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

From The Prophet (Knopf, 1923). This poem is in the public domain.

What Did You Learn Today?

This week I have been learning something new every day: Monday I heard about a seiche (look it up), Tuesday I tried a new recipe of Beef Barley Soup, Wednesday my friend told me about her amigurumi (again, look it up), Thursday I learned about The Golden Key, and now today Friday, I heard a new Christmas song I’ve never heard before, “Dominick the Donkey.” Maybe this month I will focus on learning something new every day and consciously play tribute to it.

As a teacher, I often would review the day with my students with “What did we do today?” I wanted it fresh in their minds so that when their parents asked the same question, they would maybe have an answer instead of “Nothing.” My favourite radio station CHYM with Brady and Tara does the same thing at the end of their morning programming. “What did we learn today?” Brady asks. I like it because I get a short outline of what went on that morning as I usually don’t hear their whole program.

So, what did you learn today? Or, recently? Enjoy the song!

No One Left Behind

Years ago, as an elementary school teacher, I coached the school cross-country team. One year, my daughter Maegan was a member of the team. That year she taught me a heart-felt lesson that I never forgot.

For those of you who don’t know, a cross country race ends in a funnel, where the trail forces the runners into single file and assures their standing in the race. The race was close that year and our team was doing well. I always stood on the sidelines for my runners, spurring them on as they approached the finish line. In the final curve, Maegan was surging forward as she put on her final spurt, passing runners as she raced forward, ensuring herself and the team a good scoring.

All of a sudden, one of the runners went down, stumbling and falling, holding her ankle and crying out. Maegan raced past her and then suddenly stopped. I started yelling at her, “Maegan, go! You are so close to the finish line. Go! Someone else will get her. There’s lots of us here.”

Without hesitation, Maegan ran back and helped the girl to her feet and together they limped across the finish line as other runners raced past them.

As I watched her, I didn’t know what to think. My own competitive nature felt she should have just continued on with the race. It wasn’t as if the girl wouldn’t be helped by someone else. But as she approached me with a contented smile on her face after the race, I felt a great deal of pride for my daughter. Her priority wasn’t winning the race. She saw a fellow racer in trouble and stopped to help, even though she must have realized that others would have stepped in and that she was forfeiting her good standing in the race.

She taught me a lesson that day. Whenever we have an opportunity to help another human being, act on it. Don’t leave them behind thinking that someone else will take care of the situation. If we all thought that way, the weak and down-trodden may never be helped. We would all be assuming, “It’s not my responsibility. Someone else will do it.” Maybe they will, but maybe they won’t. Choose to help at every opportunity. That way we all win.

To My Gr. 1’s – Class of 2010-11

To my Gr. 1 student,

Tonight, you my student from my Gr. 1 class of 2010-11 graduate from elementary school. Next September 2018 you head on to high school. I wanted to be there to watch you accept your diploma. I wanted you to know that you and your classmates are a very special class to me. You were with me through the final stages of my husband Tom’s cancer journey and you and your family were in my life when he passed away December 11, 2010. Your kindness and support at that difficult time meant so much to me.

I wrote a book called 10 – A Story of Love, Life, and Loss about my life with my husband and our final days. Did you know that you and your classmates are in my book? Here are some excerpts from the book to show you how much you all meant to me.

I love, love, love my little class this year . . . I have been very open about Tom
and his cancer, and they regularly make cards and letters for both of us, telling
us how much they love us and how they are really hoping Tom feels better.
It’s a regular little Love Fest’. They are so cute!

We made some wonderful memories together and you brightened my days at some of my darkest hours.

My class went to Puck’s Farm, over near Schomberg, last week with the other
Gr. 1 class, and we had a fabulous day! The weather was sunny with a blue sky.
It was cool but not cold, and the kids and adults had a ball. We were rotated
through ten different centres of activity which included pony rides for every kid,
a hay wagon ride led by two big old horses, a tour through the barn to see the
pigs, chickens, sheep, horses, donkeys and geese, a cedar maze . . . , another maze
made on a hill made of sorghum grass which grows up to 12 feet, and a tour through the apple orchard where we picked and ate to our heart’s content while sitting under the old apple trees which were spray-free. There was a little carnival area with a jumping castle and a tiny Ferris wheel, and we each got to try our hand at milking the very patient and well-behaved cow. It wasn’t as easy as it looked.
The cow was not very pleased with me as I tried and tried to get milk squirting,
(she kept looking over her shoulder at me, but I finally did it). Every kid went home
with a pumpkin and a smile.

In November and December, we made more memories.

My Christmas spirit is starting to kick in. It has to when you teach small children.
We made our first Christmas craft in the classroom, pizza boxes cut into wreaths
decorated with tissue paper puffs and crepe paper ribbons. You can still smell
the cheese and pepperoni on the box, but it is our attempt at reusing cardboard
in a creative and environmental way. Mmmmm, our wreaths smell good! I also
got handed the script for the Christmas play with the music so we have already
started to listen to it and are getting ready for rehearsals which start next week.
We finally finished our last writing project we were doing as a whole school on
the theme of ‘Courage’. The last project was writing a letter to someone we felt
had demonstrated courage. My Grade Ones wrote to soldiers, fire fighters, and
to Terry Fox’s Mom, Dad and family. Some wrote to their own sisters, brothers,
moms, dads, and grandparents. One little boy wrote to a Special Needs kid I
had in my class last year whose life daily hangs on a thread.

So, you see, your love and support as a small child was very important to me. Kindness, at any age, is a gift of love no matter who is offering it or who is receiving it. I hope you remember to be kind to others as you go on to high school and become an adult. Knowledge is important but care for your world whether it be a person, an animal, or nature is more important.

My best wishes for you as you go on to new adventures. Keep learning, keep being curious, keep being open to the world. I believe in you. Most of all, keep believing in yourself. You can do anything you set your heart to.

Warmly,

Mrs. Barbara Heagy
Gr. 1 Teacher, 2010-11

My Food, My Love

This past weekend, I enjoyed two full days of writing experiences at the University of Guelph’s Writer’s Workshop. Writers, authors and speakers shared a variety of topics of interest to writers and I was able to enjoy five different workshops. I enjoyed ‘Writing and Mindfulness’ with Melinda Burns, ‘Spiritual Memoir’ with Susan Scott and Eufemia Fantetti, and ‘Self-Publishing Your Children’s Book’ with Lisa Browning, Heather Embree and Sherry Lee on Saturday. Sunday I learned about ‘Traditional Publishing vs. Self-Publishing’ led by Robert Pavlis and ended the day with ‘Writing From Where You Are’ with Nikki Everts-Hammond.

They all were of interest but the one I had the most fun with was the final one of the weekend, ‘Writing From Where You Are.’ Nikki had us writing from beginning to end of the three hour workshop on many short, quick, spontaneous prompts. This year I was hoping for more spontaneity and creativity in my writing and Nikki didn’t disappoint. It was a lot of fun and there was some time for sharing the wonderful results with the group.

My favourite piece I wrote was prompted from Nikki’s challenge to write about your relationship to food as though it were another person in your life. We were allowed five minutes to get it all down in one spontaneous swoop. I got to share it with the group and we had a lot of laughs. I hope you enjoy it too.

My Food, My Love

Get over here, you little cutie. You know I love everything about you. How you fit so nicely in my arms and hands. How warm you feel all snuggled up close. I just want to absorb your delicious smell, stroke your smooth shoulders and back, turn you around and let my eyes feast on your colours and shapes.

Then – then, I get to taste your deliciousness – a little bit sweet, a little bit spicy, always yumminess to my taste buds.

I love taking you in with small gobbles. First the lip caress, then the tongue flick, sometimes a big slurp when you are extra delicious. (Which most times you are.) Then, only after that first nibble, do I take a full bite, and a slow chew, and I roll you around on my tongue as my taste buds explode and sparkle like those chunky candies that go bang in your mouth.

But you don’t always taste that good. Sometimes you surprise me. You show up looking one way and tasting another. Like, you might be all yummy and creamy looking on the outside but the taste of you bites back when I put you in my mouth.

But, I have to admit – those days are few. Most days you are just my little cutie. And I love you.

Nikki Everts-Hammond, of Scripted Images, offers workshops in ‘Writing Your Life’ and ‘Writing Your Memoir.’ She can be contacted by emailing her at nikki@scripted-images.com or phoning her at 519-400-3528.

Sign-up for this popular series of workshops at University of Guelph happens in January and classes fill up quickly as these quality workshops are all offered for free in early March. More information is at #ugwriters. I’ll remind you next year of the upcoming date as it approaches. It’s fun and informative. I’m going to be going back again.

Friends and Christmas Memories

This week a group of friends, all working and/or retired teachers, celebrated our Christmas pot luck dinner. I drove almost two hours one way to see them, as I do every month, but I love this group of friends and am willing to do it. We always go to Anne and Bobby’s log cabin home set back off a country road, surrounded by forest and fields. Years ago, they built this beautiful log home mostly by themselves; they dug their own well and set themselves up to be as self-sufficient as possible. They have a deep sense of stewardship for the earth and live as simply as possible. Their home is cozy and warm and I always feel welcome.

The group, as a whole, is creative and fun. We always go for a hike before dinner, enjoy our meal and then often play board games or share photos and conversations of recent trips or events. This month we had a celebrative Christmas party.

I arrived a little late and found Bobby putting the finishing touches on a Christmas tree set up in the corner. I complimented him on his choice, assuming that he had cut down one of the many trees on his property. He invited me to come take a closer look. I was amazed! He had found a dead maple tree trunk, put it in a pot and using fresh spruce boughs and a drill and ingenuity, inserted the live boughs to create a truly beautiful little Christmas tree.

“Would you call this a fake live tree or a live fake tree?” he laughed.

We always pick a theme for our dinner. This month, because it was Christmas, we all made ‘ginger’ dishes. There was carrot ginger soup, cheese and ginger mini sandwiches, ginger flavoured cheese, a stirfry with ginger sauce and rice, ginger and cabbage salad, ginger molasses cookies, chocolate covered candied ginger, and a lemon grass/ginger bubbling beverage.

After dinner we constructed a gingerbread house that turned into a gingerbread stable when one of the walls collapsed. We had lots of laughter and fun as each of us contributed to the Christmas creche we spontaneously created with two gingerbread figures for Mary and Joseph. A bright candy wrapper became a swaddling blanket for the baby Jesus, a tiny toy figurine Anne found that looked more like a tiny alien than a baby, and we stuck him into a gingerbread molasses cookie cradle. A plastic toy giraffe became the ‘donkey’ that carried Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem. Lyn, with a huge amount of patience, finished off the final touches to the gingerbread stable with candies and chocolate.

We exchanged gifts and cards: Moraine had a friendship bracelet for each of us, brought back from her recent trip to Guatemala; Lyn had hand-made soaps and toothpaste she had made at a local workshop; I handed out my own photo Christmas cards and Anne and Bobby gave us each a copy of their annual “Egbert Courier” newsletter.

Kathy brought a Christmas trivia game and we had fun asking each other questions and trying to come up with the correct answers as a group. Many of the questions had to do with Christmas carols and each time one came up, we would stop the game and sing a Christmas song together with Anne playing piano and Bobby his violin.

At the end of the night, we dimmed the lights, and with musical accompaniment and two part harmony, we sang “Silent Night” in unison. With lots of hugs and kisses, we said our goodbyes and wished each other a Merry Christmas.

For me, this was a memorable evening that I will treasure for years to come. It was the simple things that counted the most: good friendships, a tasty meal, music, hand-made gifts, and lots of laughter and spontaneity.

Merry Christmas to all. I pray that you too will have a memory-filled, happy holiday season.

Christmas in the Classroom

One year in my classroom, as we approached the winter holiday season, I asked my gr. 1’s what ‘Christmas’ was all about. I got a variety of answers. I said to them, “It’s somebody’s birthday.

Do you know who?”

No one knew. So I told them the original Christian story of Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus visited by the wise men and shepherds and angels.

Later I was reading them a story about the nativity scene and Cameron asked, “Who is Jesus Christ?”

“Well, Christians say he’s the son of God,” I answered.

“Does that make Joseph the step-dad?”

“Well, in a way.”

“Well, if God’s his real father, what does he look like?”

“God is a spirit. God doesn’t look like people.”

Lily piped up. “God isn’t a he or she. God’s a spirit.”

“What’s a spirit?” asked Ashley.

“Well, a spirit is kind of like a ghost…”

“Like Casper?” asked Cameron.

“…or maybe like the tooth fairy,” I fumbled, trying to think of images that they could relate to. “Or, perhaps more like Mother Nature. In some magical way, the sun comes up, the sun goes down, the seasons change and seeds grow and animals are born. God’s the energy that makes all that happen.”

“God created us,” Lily said.

“Yes, Christians say that. And they say God created Jesus Christ magically inside Mary’s belly or womb.”

Nathan, still puzzled, said, “Well I know who Jesus is but who is Christ?”

“Jesus Christ is one and the same person. Just like you are Nathan Wood, Jesus has two names, too.”

“Oh,” he smiled, happy to understand. “Mr. Christ!”