The End in the Beginning

             Close to five years ago (when I graduated from high school) I decided to name the Facebook album that had all my senior year photos in it "The Beginning in the End." Granted, I didn't come up with this name myself, but I was inspired by an episode of Bones and thought it was apropos because graduation from high school was an end, but there really was a beginning of my college years and the rest of my life in this end. That brings us to right now, years later, as my college days are pretty much done.

             It's been seven days since I stepped out of the classrooms I student taught in. The Calvin semester will end in four days. It hurts to be leaving classes and students I grew to love over the last semester. To leave a place I've called home for the past four and a half years also hurts. But the purpose of this place was not to give me a place to call forever my home, though some part of me will always regard Calvin College as a home of sorts; its purpose was to equip me to think deeply, to act justly, and to live wholeheartedly as Christ’s agent of renewal in the world. Yes, I did take that straight from Calvin's mission statement, but that is exactly what my time at Calvin did. And I got the first step of putting that into practice during my last semester, my semester of student teaching.

             This semester was a beginning. It was also an end. It was the end (of my time at Calvin and of my time as a student), but it was the beginning (of my teaching career). Hence, the end in the beginning. It's hard for me to reflect on something that just occurred, but I will say I was overwhelmingly blessed and challenged this semester. And overall, that's a perfect combination.

             I was first of all blessed with not one, but two absolutely amazing mentor teachers. I mean, not only were these folks master teachers, but they were also caring and compassionate human beings and funny as all get out. I got to have two mentor teachers because I was in both a chemistry and an English classroom over the semester. The lover of the liberal arts in me adored this. The two classrooms themselves were very different— one lined with lab tables, bunsen burners, and other lab supplies; one lined with bookshelves filled with a thousand book and various humorous and/ or snarky quotes about reading, writing, and the human experience. Some days it was the chemistry room that brought me joy, other days it was the English room, but more than that, it was the people that these rooms contained. 

              When people ask "What do you teach?" my first instinct is always to say "Students," though I know that's not the answer they're looking for. Teaching chemistry is great; teaching English is also great, but would there be a reason to teach if it wasn't for the students? No, there wouldn't be. My students were overall the greatest blessing of the semester. I had both sophomores and seniors (and it was so interesting to see the difference in phase of life between the two). Some students probably didn't understand why I'd want to pay to be at school and to teach them every day, but just like the other teachers I encountered told me, the sacrifices made for the students were worth it and will continue to be in the future. All these fifteen-to-nineteen-year-olds were a source of joy day in and day out. I will admit they were a source of strife sometimes as well, but overall, they brought joy whether they intended to or not. 

             I don't think I have an answer for the ever-present question of "What was your favorite part of the semester?" My favorite parts were every moment where my classes laughed with me (or occasionally at me, probably for good reason), indulged me in answering one of my absurd attendance questions, finally grasped a concept, revised a paper (and revised it well!), asked for a book recommendation, or readily participated in what I had planned for the day. Or every lunch where I got to see more and more the nitty-gritty sometimes amazing and sometimes awful details of being in the teaching world for 10, 20, 30, or even 40 years. Or every time my mentor teachers offered to run to the copy center for me. Or every time I ran to the copy center for them. All of the mundane occurrences that built up to leave me last Friday looking at the school as I drove away and feeling a sense of accomplishment and of sadness. I'm proud of what I did this semester, and I'm sad to have to leave. Just as Robert Frost so sagely penned, "Nothing gold can stay."

             Not everything this semester was gold, unfortunately. One of my mentor teachers stopped me one day and said something like, "I'm sorry you've gotten such a difficult semester to student teach in." I just looked back with a puzzled look, and asked "What do you mean?" He responded, "You know, with the election and all of this talk of the pension cuts and such. It puts a lot of the teachers on edge; I promise most semester's talk at lunch is not so negative." Before that moment, it hadn't really registered that these past couple months had been so hard on people, especially those in the realm of public education. Until that point, I had only noticed how great it was for the teachers to have each other for support, even when they were all despairing about the future of the country or the future of public education. These negativities, while wearing, struck me only as a collective form of expressing grief, not as excessive complaining.

            It was so helpful for me as well to have this place of expressing grief. The day after the election was especially hard. As most workplaces, or gatherings of people in general, there were people both relieved and distraught at the results and I know tensions were high. This tension filtered down into those even too young to vote. There were incidents of bullying that occurred based on the hateful rhetoric we saw this election season and those really hurt to see. It's one thing to disagree with my political views, or to insult me personally (I can handle myself), but when you hurt my students based on their skin color, or gender, or sexual orientation, or country of origin, or anything really, it cuts me to the core and makes me angry. I wanted to say, "We will not stand for this racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, etc. We will continue to fight for justice despite our President-elect's seeming disregard for it." But I couldn't because teachers are supposed to remain neutral in the classroom in terms of political matters. I wanted to say, "Regardless of what you think of the results, we know where our true sense of peace and security comes from. We rely on our Prince of Peace. May Christ have mercy on us all." But I couldn't because I was in a public school environment. And being in a public school setting was good for me, but different than what I was used to. Instead of saying these things, all I could come up with to tell my classes was "Have courage and be kind (and yes, I did quote that from the new Disney Cinderella movie)."

            So overall, this semester was the end in the beginning of my teaching career. It was full of many exquisite things and some very difficult ones. It confirmed even farther my calling to teach and made me feel qualified to teach both chemistry and English. Coming out of this experience, I've also been asked if I now know what kind of setting I'd like to teach in. I've had wonderful experiences in private, Christian schools and I've now had wonderful experiences in a public school as well. I'm open to pretty much wherever the Spirit leads. For now, there's not much else for me to do besides be thankful. I'm thankful for student teaching. I'm thankful for lesson planning every night. For my mentor teachers and their constant support and mentoring. For my professor and her gentle ways and helpful feedback. For my students, their wit, and their personalities. And for everyone who has helped me get this far. Thank you, friends, family, loved-ones, colleagues, teachers, professors, etc. from the bottom of my heart. I'll keep you all posted in where life leads me.

"Our Revels Now Are Ended"

          I always start the semester with the best intentions to keep up on this whole blogging thing in addition to being in school full time and working at the glitter-covered craft haven that is the Alpine Michaels. And somehow that never happens. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by now; it's happened exactly like this several times before. But this time around, I find myself in a more profound sadness that the semester is ending.
          In a little under 48 hours I'll be starting my final final of this fall semester. I'm ready to be done. In a little over 48 hours some of the people I hold nearest and dearest to me will return home to their families to enjoy the holiday season.  I'm glad they will. I personally am blessed to see my family on a semi-consistent basis throughout the semester, but not everyone is able to do that. But the sense of everyone leaving for the holidays, exactly when I'd want them here most, is sobering. 

"Our revels now are ended" (The Tempest IV.i)

          Though I should clarify that my semester hasn't been filled with drinking and dancing as is typical when thinking of "reveling," I must say the lively enjoyment that also accompanies "reveling" has still has found its way into my life. It's been a very Shakespeare-filled semester. Until I dove head-first into the Shakespeare world, I didn't really realize so much joy, entertainment, and insight on the human experience could come of one author who lived four hundred years ago. And yet, I think that is what art does to us. It changes us, in very practical terms, in ways we can't describe. While my life is nothing like The Tempest at all, the idea of being "such stuff as dreams are made on" cuts me to the very core. The fact that the semester's revels now are ended... it hurts, to be brutally honest. It means that the number of concerts I have left to perform as a Calvin student can be counted on one hand. It means that the number of times I have reason to get together with friends to "study" are quickly decreasing. It means that within a matter of months a large percentage of the Calvin population will leave, maybe for good, and then a couple of months after that I'll leave too. 

"Then sigh not so, but let them go, 
And be you blithe and bonny, 
Converting all your sounds of woe 
Into hey, nonny nonny."

(Much Ado About Nothing II.iii)

          And my oldest Shakespearean love, Much Ado, reminds me that this is the way things have always been. This process of growing and changing, leaving one place and going to another, or watching the world change around you happens every day. Sigh not so over things you can't change, but be cheerful and turn all your sad songs into songs of joy. There are so many things from this semester that I'll miss. But I'm coming out of this semester different than I was going in, with memories that will put a smile on my face for years to come. So with that, 

"Goodnight, sweet [people], and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." (Hamlet V.ii)

          And by rest, I mean temporary rest, not a permanent rest like in the case of Hamlet. No matter your walk of life, I hope the holiday season brings you joy and peace. I hope the advent season renews your spirit and fills your soul with an overwhelming sense of love from those around you and mostly from our Savior, who we celebrate this time of year. And to those who will be returning to share in more adventures at Calvin, I look forward to another semester of your smiles and laughter, encouragement, Shakespeare quotes, good food, music, and caffeine.

"If music be the food of love, play on!" (Twelfth Night I.i)

I am a Warrior: A Manifesto for Senior Year

       As a little girl, I never wanted to be a warrior when I grew up. Never was real interested in the prospect of violence, to be honest. I opted more for (seemingly) peaceful things:  an explorer (though I'm not sure where that came from because nature is definitely not my thing), a lawyer,  a teacher. Looking back, I wish I would've been more interested in being a warrior. And by warrior, I mean mostly that in the metaphoric sense. In reality, I don't condone violence really, but the warrior spirit runs deep in my veins.
       My family history is a little all over the place, but I know there's Scandinavian blood in me and Celtic blood in me. Both of these cultures fascinate me, with a bit of a heavier emphasis on the Celtic currently; nonetheless these peoples were both known for being warriors-- skilled warriors. Between the Scandinavians and the Celts, they fought battles reminiscent of the story Beowulf and battles like something you'd find straight out of Lord of the Rings (minus the orcs and dwarves and such). Even if all memory of these ancestors is lost, they were warriors and they played some part in who I am today. I'd be a different person in terms of genetics, but also in terms of identity should I not be some weird mix of many deep, rich, and at times war-like cultures and heritages. My last name, "Alexander" even has the warrior spirit embedded deep in it. It was derived from the Greek name Alexandros; from what I've read, in the vernacular it meant "defender of men" but literally means "repulser of the enemy." I can't think of any name I'd rather have... not necessarily that I prize repulsing people, but the fact that literally in the name I was given, I am called to be a defender of humanity. To fight for the good of those around me.
       All of this to say, I'm realizing more and more each day that I'm a fighter. Sometimes people fall into viewing me as the sort of "delicate flower" type, but let me tell you, that could not be more wrong. I suppose I have moments of delicacy, but who doesn't? And so this is my challenge for senior year. To expel passivity from my life and fight for what I think is important. To push myself to be the best I can be-- academically, physically, spiritually, in relationships, and at work--but also to take time to realize that you have to choose your battles. I'm one who tends to push myself to the absolute limit, but no battle can be won solely on two hours of sleep and a boatload of coffee. 
       I sit here now, a product of one, where I came from, two, the last few months and the changes that have taken place in my life, and three, where I am going in the future. I'm stronger now than I ever was before. It's my last full year at Calvin with all the people I've come to love as a second family. So let's do this senior year thing. I'm ready for all the battles that are coming my way. And for the much anticipated time of peace and rest, though I never plan on losing the warrior spirit inside.

The Little Things

           Sometimes, it's the little things in life that get you. In a bad way at times, but it seems like a better way to go about life to reflect on the good things. I have a lot of little things I should be doing currently because the semester ends way sooner than I think it does, but some days I like to just sit and think about the good things in my life.
           I have so many good things in my life that I couldn't name them all if I tried. The stereotypical things that fill in the blank "I am thankful for..." are the big things. I love and appreciated the big things. The little things though are what get stuck in my head and make me smile at the end of the day; they are the things that keep me going through the difficult and uncertain times.
           For the semester, I am a student aid (like a student teacher, but less work and teaching) at Grand Rapids Christian High School. Let's just say even though I have to get up at 6 a.m. every morning to be there, it is absolutely worth it. I've grown to love a community and a student body. Every day after I drive back to Calvin, I have a 5-10 minute walk from my car to my next class, so I have time to think about all the little things I enjoyed that day. And it's not usually things like "My class behaved so well!" or "Every student got to have input for this topic!" or even "The students had fun today and learned something!" Those are all good things, but I remember the little things. When one student was so thankful for my help that he gave me an AppleJack for every question I helped him with. When I made the mistake of telling my students that my last day was in a couple of weeks and they were all so sad. When I ask if anyone has any questions and my freshmen ask how my day is going. When a few of my juniors decide to roll their desks outside and look in the window to class while we were working on some practice problems (this made me laugh far too much). Every day when my cooperating teacher proves she is the coolest. I could definitely keep going, but some of my little joys come from things other than aiding as well:

           On orchestra tour when I got to give a little 5 minute talk to some high school classes about what I love about Calvin--and after the fact when my friends told me I was really funny, or sounded really cute while talking, or that it was cool when they could see me transform from cellist Heather to teacher Heather in a high school setting. If you haven't gathered this by now, I think high schoolers are the best :) 

           Sometimes it's the odd little things-- a funny face my stand-partner makes at me while attempting to not die when sight-reading in rehearsal, or bad puns my friends insist on making (they can never resist...). Getting donuts in chem seminar and making snarky comments (snark also pleases me much more than it should). Wearing a pair of chopsticks--that were given to me by a friend who actually got them in Hong Kong!--in my hair and feeling good about how it looks. Watching an episode of Bones and feeling like I've been reunited with old friends. Actually being reunited with old friends. Hugs. The Lark Ascending. Really good salads. Remembering that my cousin named her cat Salad when she was little.  Looking at old pictures. Shostakovich Beyoncé. Many other little things amuse me and bring me joy, but there was a laundry list of ones I've thought about recently.
           Simultaneously, while I reflect on the little things, I remember Robert Frost's poem Nothing Gold Can Stay. It goes like this:

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower,

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

On the surface, it's a very Melancholy poem, however it has acted as a sort of comfort to me as well. It's really hard to grapple with the fact that this amazing time at Calvin won't last forever, nor should it. I wouldn't want to live under this much stress for the rest of time. But my heart aches every time I realize that once I graduate, I won't be part of this community to the extent that I am now. Nothing gold can stay. My friends will be spread out all around the world doing what they were placed on this earth to do. I'm thankful for the influence of social media in that regard, but a Facebook message can not replace a real face-to-face conversation or chat over a meal. Such is the human condition I suppose. This poem, my own personal memento mori, forces me to enjoy all the little things now. I guess I live in some weird kind of limbo between these two. But that's what keeps life interesting. Love the little things and appreciate them while they last.

This is How I Feel About Winter

A Walk Among The Trees

The trees along the path quake in the breeze.

I too shake, our limbs alike in the cold.

The heavens give us snow,

But it is too much!

All is buried.

When it thaws, hope will come to us again—

Until then, our brittle lungs will ache; the air hinder our bodies and sadden our souls.

(This poem is written solely with words that come from Anglo-Saxon/ Old English roots--with the exception of "until." It used to say, "up to" so every single word had an OE ancestor, but I though "until" flowed better.) 

The Drawbacks of Being Well-Rounded

This may be a bit conceited, but I like to consider myself a fairly well-rounded person. Or at least that I'm trying my absolute hardest to become one. The degree I'm pursuing seems to concur:

Get a chemistry degree, I decided--that's great! I'll know all about the smallest bits of matter, how they compose the world, and their unique properties and such.

Well, now let's add an education degree to that. Then I'll be able to teach high schoolers all about how the world works and inspire them to be great scientists. Or at least to appreciate different disciplines. 

But I need to be more hire-able as a teacher! I'll teach biology too! Nevermind, too many gross squishy things. Physics? Yawn. Geology? Yay, rocks... That rules out an integrated science degree. So what's next? I've always enjoyed writing...?

Proceed to add an English minor.

Is this enough? Never. I  need to continue to be involved in music, so I'll play in the orchestra! Elected to be on the orchestra council? Sure! I can do that too!

I love and am passionate about all of these things, but sometimes it seems like information is being thrown at me from every direction and I can't quite keep it all straight. After a full day of classes, what I can recall goes something like: "The partition coefficient, K, is essentially same thing as an equilibrium constant. It is found by--" "looking at the comedic elements of Tartuffe. I'm sure you all can think of modern correlations of these elements. Think of cartoon characters--" "which find many of their influences from the minstrel stage. When listening to popular music you must consider what kinds of influence--" "the matrix has on your analysis." 

So yes, I'm learning to be well-rounded, but at a cost.  I'm simultaneously learning to be a reader, a writer, a teacher, a scientist, an informed citizen. I'm frantically running from scribbling down equations, to figuring out how to play 'cloudy' so the second flute solo can be heard, to trying to make sense of Plato, to writing the world's worst sonnet (though not intentionally). The perks of being well-rounded are great: 

You begin to appreciate that people all have different aptitudes--which is a very good thing. There are many, many jobs I couldn't do and many professions I would rather not go into. But that just makes me appreciate the people who are passionate about those things. Moreover, through a little bit of education in said subjects that I detest, I have metaphorically "walked a mile in someone else's shoes;" I appreciate not only the parts of the jobs that they love but also the parts that they (at best) put up with.

A well-rounded education develops creativity and out-of-the-box thinking. I expected to come to college and be stretched as a person, but only in certain areas. I expected to grow in problem solving skills, how to teach a class, and how to make friends. I never expected to have to ponder alternative fuel sources, find rest and meditation through swimming, or be really deeply troubled by the problem of evil in a world ruled by a wholly good God. But being pushed to my limits has allowed me to grow personally and in ways of thought and reason. 

You have a better view of how the world on the whole works. You can observe things more easily and feel things more deeply. A good, well-rounded education gives you more to be human with.

There are quite a few more perks, but for reasons of space I won't go on listing them. However, there are some drawbacks too:

It is pretty darn hard to prioritize. If I operate under the assumption that all of these classes and things I'm learning are equally valuable but I don't have the time to give them all equal attention, how do I decide what things to spend my time with? It becomes some funny balance of what's due soonest, what's most important for the purpose of teaching someday, and what's going to bring me at least some amount of joy in studying it. 

Taking the time to be well-rounded means you've spent less time specializing in whatever you ultimately want to go into. This may be a drawback when it comes time to get hired somewhere.

Sometimes you lose focus of what's really important. And not school important, like bigger importance. Sometimes I get so caught up in trying to learn as much as I can about every subject I'm presented with that I forget about putting forth effort in maintaining relationships .

They say knowledge is power! Basically, becoming a knowledgeable, well-rounded person is hard work. Its rewards are great, but it also comes at a cost. Though in the end, I wouldn't trade all I've learned, both in academia and out, for anything in the world.

Round Three

        I have roughly 51 hours until my first class of the new semester starts. Am I ready for this? Can I handle a third year of this chaos they call college? Yes, I can and I will. But before that starts, I have about a million things to do: gather all my textbooks, change my work schedule around for the start of school, actually practice my orchestra music, and squeeze every last bit of enjoyment I can out of this summer. Plus more.
        There were many things I was planning to do this summer that I didn't get accomplished. There were many things I wasn't planning to do this summer that I ended up doing and enjoying. I'm not sure I'm ready for  it to end though. With the end of summer comes the start of school. With the start of school brings a crazy semester that simultaneously seems to never end and goes by too fast. I'm half done with college. I don't want the next two years to go as quickly as the first two have. I'm anticipating many new adventures in the months to come.
        I'm not really sure what to expect with the new semester, other than the same old staying up late doing homework and going on late night coffee runs. There's bound to be some concerts, early morning breakfasts at Wolfgang's, long night labs, and orch board meetings. I'm excited for it all, though my thoughts aren't very coherent on the matter. But, I told myself in light of last year's significant lack of blog posts, I'd start this year out right. A little start back into the world of blogging is better than no start at all. So here's to a new school year, full of new things to learn and new things to experience. To many papers and many blog posts. To music in every shape and form. To friends, family, and loved ones. And mostly to life.