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.

Catching Up-- Reflections on Costa Rica

           It's been quite a while since I've visited this blog, my own personal corner of the internet. It's been a little over three months. And within those three months, so much has occurred; it is time to catch up.
           Since the last time I've updated you all, I've ended one year and started another (as I assume most everyone else has...), adventured to Costa Rica, and started a new semester, among other less-notable things. The end of one year and the beginning of the next was refreshing, as always, but was filled with preparations for a once in a lifetime trip. From January 9 to 20 I left the frozen tundra that is MI for an orchestra tour around the beautiful country of Costa Rica. Originally, I had planned to split the trip into three separate blog posts to recount stories, share pictures, and just generally tell what I was learning/ experiencing. However, while I was in CR time didn't really allow for that, and once I got back, I felt as though I'd rather reflect on my adventure on the whole instead of chopping it up into little bits. So here it goes:
           Costa Rica was absolutely amazing. I'd go back in a heartbeat, if the opportunity arose and my own personal resources allowed. The country itself was gorgeous, filled with rolling hills, stunning mountains, rain-forests with more shades of green encapsulated in them than you can possibly imagine, beaches that were the epitome of tropical paradise, buzzing cities and so much more. The people we met were so warm, friendly, giving, appreciative of our gift of music, and they all graciously put up with our attempts at speaking Spanish, even though a lot of us just ended up butchering the language. The trip was a lot of work, we essentially played 11 concerts in 8 days, but we also had plenty of time to try new things, enjoy each other's company, and relax every now and then.

Photo Credit: Ruth Vanden Bos
of Ruth H. Photography.

           The first couple days we were in Costa Rica, we stayed in a dorm from a Methodist seminary. It was for the most part, a dorm; it wasn't as nice as some of the hotels we stayed in, but in it there was a big common room where we could all come and hang out after a long day of traveling and performing. To me, a little thing like that room made a big difference, because it had the power to bring us all together at night and just fellowship with each other. One night, we decided to have a back massage train in this big room. It was very much needed after several days of playing concerts, our backs were starting to get pretty sore. And it was a lot of fun.
           Even though we were rehearsing for and playing concerts a lot of the time we were down there, we also did so many tourist-y things. We went to places like: Poás Volcano, La Paz Waterfall Gardens, downtown San José, Arenal (where we went zip-lining!), a couple rain-forests, a cloud forest or two, Sky Walk suspension bridges in Monteverde, Manuel Antonio National Park, a beyond beautiful cathedral in Cartago, and so many more. 

Angela and I in our zip-lining gear!
Photo Credit: Ruth Vanden Bos.

           I went zip-lining 600 feet above the floor of the rain-forest--which we were told is the highest zip-line in all of Central America. It was exhilarating and was over much too fast, but I'm really glad to be able to say that I did it and I had fun. I'm also really glad that I got to go with such a cool and encouraging group of people, and with my best friend. My dear best friend since first grade did something really adventurous with me (well and the rest of us); I was excited to see her be so daring and enjoy it! The view from the top of the zip-lining course was stunning. You could see for miles and miles, from Arenal Volcano, to the deep blue-green waters of Lake Arenal, to the surrounding rainforest--and it was gorgeous. Later in the trip, I also got to swim in the Pacific Ocean for the first time! It was so lovely and warm (and salty...which I kept forgetting since I'm used to freshwater lakes). And I thought I got some pretty fantastic beach hair!

Top photo: mine; Middle and bottom:
Ruth Vanden Bos.

           [The collage to the left depicts my favorite beach pictures. Top: My first time touching the wonderful Pacific Ocean. Middle: Angela, me, and Bethany having some spontaneous fun on the beach. Bottom: The silhouettes of me, Angela, and Bethany against the sunset. All the beach pictures were taken at Manuel Antonio National Park, though they were at two different beaches within the park.]
           On top of zip-lining and beach-going, I got to experience a lot of other new things. Like food... I can't even begin to tell you how amazing the food was. And how much of it we were given at each meal. One of my favorite things were the "batidos" which are basically smoothies, sometimes made with ice, milk, or ice cream and of course, loads of delicious fresh fruit. The other thing food-wise that sticks in my memory were the "casados." The word casado literally means marriage, but food casados are plates with rice, black or refried beans, a salad of sorts (like lettuce with tomatoes and carrots on it, but no dressing), fried plantains, meat (I mostly had chicken or beef, sometimes seafood), and tortillas. I think the "marriage" part of it comes from the fact that you mix it all together and eat it.
           Going on this trip I knew I'd be stretched as a person and learn a lot. One of the best learning experiences was actually one of the most awkward experiences: going to a Catholic mass for the first time. I am not Catholic, I don't think anyone in the Calvin group was. The first time we went to a mass, we were given the very front bench by the priest. This made things awkward because we couldn't watch what was going on around us; we didn't know when we were supposed to stand, sit, or kneel (or even if we were supposed to kneel). Before mass, we asked our conductor what to do-- because there are certain things in mass that you're not allowed to do if you aren't Catholic (like take communion). He said to just follow his lead, but the whole group didn't catch that apparently. None of us took communion, so I'm glad we didn't offend them in that way, but when it came time to kneel about half of us did, and the other half just sat. The row I was in kind of crouched above the bench, not standing but not sitting, before deciding to kneel. Also, the service was in Spanish. My Spanish is alright, but it's hard to grasp what's going on when it takes a lot of effort to even understand the words being said.  All in all, it was awkward, but it was a good learning experience.

Un casado; the Cathedral in
Cartago; Ancient mounds/ ruins
in Guayabo.

           The next mass we went to was better, and was in a gorgeous Cathedral in Cartago. After mass we played a concert and the acoustics in there were beautiful: echo-y, but warm. As we were walking out a few of my friends were singing hymns and just enjoying the acoustics. We stopped near the entrance and sang a ton of hymns; it was really moving. Even though Protestants and Catholics don't hold the same beliefs in some areas, it was cool to still acknowledge that this Cathedral was as much the house of God as my church back home was. There's nothing better than praising God in His house. And even though I most definitely consider the music we'd just played in our performance to be an act of worship, and all for His glory, the words in the hymns are very powerful as well. Our tour guide, Ronald (who was super cool), told us we sounded like a choir and that we should sing like that on the top of a mountain.
           Unfortunately, that was one of that last days in the trip so we had no more mountains to visit. We did however visit Guayabo National Monument, ruins of an ancient civilization. There were many mounds there, where different parts of the city used to be. We weren't allowed onto the actual mounds, but we found a little hill next to them, dubbed it our "mini-mound," and gave Ronald the mountain-top concert he asked for. I thought it was a pretty neat moment.
           On our last two days, we stayed with host families who all went to the International Baptist Church in Escazu. I walked into the church nervous about staying with host families, not wanting to be split up from the rest of my compadres on the trip. But, there was an unusual sense of peace that I found in that church. It was something familiar, a Baptist church that looked similar to the church I went to back home, not like a Cathedral (there's nothing wrong with Cathedrals, they are just unfamiliar). The orchestra improv-ed on some hymns and contemporary songs, just like I do at my home church. And it was in English. It all felt very good to be in a place of unfamiliar familiarity. With my host family, my roommates and I got to go to the market where they get all their fruits/vegetables for the week. They even treated us to freshly squeezed orange juice sweetened with fresh sugar cane juice, plus breakfast. The market was a cool thing to experience culturally; it was definitely an experience I won't forget.
           Since it was an orchestra tour, we ended up playing our instruments a lot. What surprised me about all our concerts was how thankful all the people we played for were for our gift of music. On one of our last bus rides, we asked Ronald if he was getting sick of hearing the same program over and over. He responded by saying something along the lines of: I find something new and beautiful to listen to each time you play. I guess I didn't anticipate how appreciative people would be. We got to introduce string instruments to some small children at a couple of the concerts and we got to be the first orchestra ever to play in the Theatre in Jaco! Once we played a concert for only 2 people, but instead of calling it off or shortening the program, I think I tried that much more because these two people deserved to have a wonderful concert as much as the packed Jaco Theatre did. I love music, I love making music and traveling with a bunch of my friends and making music together was absolutely incredible.
           All together, it was 12 days well spent. I really didn't want to leave; we decided that we should just move Calvin and the people we love to Costa Rica, so we wouldn't ever have to leave. I suppose it is good to be back in my hometown, but I really fell in love with that country. I have many more stories and experiences that wouldn't fit in this blog post, because you'd be reading for hours. But I am way beyond thankful that I got to go! If you supported me in any way on this trip, thank you so much. I know this is something I won't be able to experience again, so I'm ecstatic that I went and had the best time. I guess there's not much left to say besides ¡Pura Vida!

Here are a couple more photos from the trip. 

(1) Me trying papaya (banana-carrot) for the first time and Katie enjoying the fresh pineapple; (2) Candid shot of us getting ready for our concert at Casa Adobe [Photo Credit: Ruth]; (3) Ruth, me, and Bethany having a spontaneous dress up night [Photo Credit: Ruth's Camera-- I'm not sure who actually snapped the picture though].

If you want to see a beautifully photographed and put-together picture montage, check out this YouTube video (also made by Ruth): 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PRPSg9n0YXM

Photos (that aren't mine) were used with permission from the lovely photographer, Ruth Vanden Bos. Check out how extremely talented she is at http://ruthhphotography.weebly.com/ !

           

To Recap this Semester

         A friend of mine once told me a joke: "There are two kinds of people in this world, those who need closure..." as his voice trailed off I instinctively interjected "And?" But that was the whole point. There are those who need closure and this was meant to show you that you're one of them. It's very true, my life becomes extremely unnerving when I haven't received closure in different areas; ambiguity doesn't always sit well with me. I also need time to reflect on what has happened during each season of my life. So this is it, the bookend to this semester. Fall 2013 Semester is basically over.
         A mere two hours ago I walked out of a physics classroom for hopefully the last time ever. It also happened to be my last final of the semester. Aside from a couple extra credit reports that I'm trying to convince myself I should write, I am done. I have no more academic commitments for the rest of 2013, which is such a relief. This semester has been kind of rough... I averaged about 4.5 hours of sleep a night, and only had one day off (no work, no school, no orchestra) over the course of the whole semester, even over academic advising and Thanksgiving breaks I was still busy. I don't mean to make you feel sorry for me, most of it was my choice or a direct result of my choice. Meaning, I want to be at Calvin more than anywhere else in the world. I can't afford to come to Calvin without working, therefore I work about ≈25 hours a week, although it does vary. But it's tough being that busy all the time. I know "that's the life of a college student," but I'm not sure it's supposed to stress me out that much. It definitely had some detrimental effects.
         Even though I was pretty stressed, overworked and underpaid for the majority of the semester, I still managed to enjoy myself sometimes. I let the nerd flag fly: I was one of the  many who stood in line for a couple hours and one of the few that actually got into the inaugural Grand Rapids Comic Con. I got to see the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special in theatres in 3D! I wrote in Circular Gallifreyan and made my own cipher (although I never did use it for anything).

I taught my first class ever.
I wrote my own case study of a learner who struggles in school.
I had class for 12 straight hours once.
My calling to teach was confirmed above and beyond what I thought it would be.
My calling into chemistry was confused... what I thought was a love of chemistry began to disappear, thanks to organic chemistry. I now don't know whether I was never supposed to be in chemistry in the first place or if God is calling me in a different direction that I didn't expect, or if I just need to stick this one out and it'll get better from here.
I got a 96% on a 12 page research paper that I did the research for AND wrote in the span of about 36 hours. That's not 36 cumulative hours of work, it's that I spent at most a day and a half working on this paper.
I played some of the most glorious parts of Handel's Messiah.

         But that's not all I did! I also built and upheld a lot of relationships. I reconnected with some people from high school. I got to know some coworkers from Michaels a lot better. I built up stronger friendships with people from Calvin that I knew from last year, and started new ones with some other fellow Knights. I started dating a most wonderful guy. I remained a daughter, a sister, a friend, a student, and an employee (though at times I wasn't really the best of any of them, but I tried).  
         I was reunited with the Charming Cellos of Calvin College was so excited to welcome  many new charming cellists to the section. I found greater purpose and joy in making music than I have in any of my previous nine years in orchestra (not to downplay those, I made some of the best memories in those nine years due to orchestra). I went to Spanish chapel almost every week to get back into hearing and speaking Spanish. And now that my semester has finally come to a close, I am headed to enjoy my short break before I, along with 15 of my fellow musicians travel to Costa Rica for an Interim Chamber Orchestra Tour. I'm literally so excited, and even though we've got a lot to prepare it's going to be a wonderful experience. So, on the whole, I'm glad this semester happened, but I am glad that it is no more and I am looking forward to the New Year, new beginnings, new adventures and whatever life has to throw at me next semester.

Teaching Isn't All Fun and Games

There comes a time in every teacher-to-be’s life when you realize that deciding to become an educator is more than a choice to spend every day with students. It’s more than preparing lessons, coming up with fun review games, writing tests, and grading homework. At the core, choosing to teach is choosing to give of yourself in order that the children with whom you work daily can learn. It’s about preparing children to become wonderful young men and women, and preparing young men and women to be well-rounded, stable parts of the functioning adult world. Teaching isn’t about forcing information into students, but about using what they already know as a basis to broaden their horizons and have new information flow through them. And sometimes, practically, I think that is such a hard task.

How do I teach the kids the information they need to know without feeling like I’m shoving it down their throats? How do I motivate them to care about my subject matter if it’s something they don’t see the value in? How do I come alongside every student so that they can achieve their best, but also make sure that the schools standards for learning on the whole are where they should be? The scary part is, I don’t know how to answer these questions. I have ideas, but they are not comprehensive. I’m not sure any “plan” ever will be. Maybe that’s pessimistic, but I think it’s realistic. All we can do is our best and even when we do that there will still be things—maybe small things—that slip through the cracks.

In my education class this semester, we recently had a discussion about how to deal with a class full of students all at different learning levels. We gathered ideas from each other on how to make activities that can encompass students at all varying degrees of academic ability: those highly gifted and way above the rest of the class, those struggling with even the most basic concepts, and those at every point in between. I do believe that every child can learn and I really do believe that every child can achieve their personal best in school, but I understand that those will not all be at the same levels. That still won’t stop me from trying to accommodate those who have trouble learning; it won’t stop me from being a creative teacher when I can be.

I will be presented with many challenges as a teacher. Some of which I can prepare for in my time of studying at Calvin. Most of which I’ll never even think about until I end up in my own classroom. In our discussion in class and subsequent conversations with people I’m close with, I began to realize that on the outside, I’m a real pessimist. I exaggerate my problems and complain more than I should. But deep down, I am such an optimist. My heart tells me that everything will work out in the end, that life is beautiful, and that there are always positives to focus on. I think this plays well into my calling to teach. Though teaching may be challenging and sometimes draining, each student has something unique to bring to the table. Everyone has their own individual strengths and weaknesses and I want to help students realize them. Sometimes the hardest part of learning information is learning how your brain works, and what you struggle with. Moving past the failures, facing the struggles, and embracing the strengths is what true teaching is all about. You cannot just focus on all strengths or weakness, there has to be a balance, and as a teacher you have to be the one to set that balance.

Sure, teaching might not be all fun and games. But it’ll be rewarding, I know. It’s the most rewarding career I could think of because I have the opportunity to make an influence. I still have so much to learn, but I’m ready to take it all on. I am so thankful to have wonderful educator examples in my life to run to when I really don’t know what to do and I am equally as thankful for those who listen to my dream and spur me on towards my goal. I’m not looking forward to the times when I struggle and don’t succeed in the classroom, but I know I’ll learn from my mistakes to ultimately become a better teacher and a better person.

The Call to Teach

Since at least my sophomore year of high school, if not before, many close family members and friends would tell me that I would someday end up teaching—just like my Grandpa, just like my Mom, and just like my Dad. I denied it for a couple years, but during my senior year I decided that I wanted to pursue education. So I signed myself for education classes, but began to doubt this choice, being persuaded that there were other things I could do and other careers I could pursue that were bigger and better than being a teacher. However, I've come to realize that at this point in my life there is no greater call on my heart than to teach. And what a journey it’s been thus far, and will continue to be.

This semester I've been required to immerse myself in a classroom to observe and participate; I have been placed in an 11^th grade English class at a local, small Christian high school (and not the one I went to). This requirement has been stressful because it’s an extra 3+ hours a week I’m busy—which while taking 17 credit hours, having extra time commitment for orchestra and labs, and trying to work around 25 hours a week is a bit difficult—but it’s definitely been worth it. Mostly because it has probably been the most influential factor in removing many of my doubts about going into education.

This confirmation came in the form of several small moments of epiphany while in the classroom. The first was on one of my very first days observing; I was talking to the classroom teacher who was telling me about his journey through college and teaching at different schools around the country and even around the world. He began to say something about what techniques and types of lessons work better here, compared to other schools he taught in, and I began to realize that although I already knew it intellectually, practically speaking teachers always have to be on their toes. They have to go through a lot of their higher education learning all about learners, new educational research, school contexts etc. in order that they will be able to plan lessons well, so everyone can learn, and maybe more surprisingly, so that they can respond during class and react effectively if the class period is not going as planned.

My second moment really holds the weight of my call to be a teacher. Nothing really special happened to bring this about, I was just grading papers and listening to the teacher’s conversation with the students as they worked and thought “I could do this for the rest of my life.” And that wasn't a depressing thought, like I've chosen to be stuck doing this, but it was a thought full of great hope—I get to share my love of chemistry or my love of writing (or both!) with all kinds of students. I can teach them all about the interworkings of an atom or the interworkings of a sentence simply for its own sake because I truly believe that it is important to be at least a little bit experienced in most academic fields.

Although I’ll probably never go on to get my PhD in chemistry and do a bunch of experiments and research, that doesn't mean that one of my students can’t. The class that I teach could have that much of an impact on someone, hopefully from a combination of efficient and passionate teaching that overflows from my love for students and my love for chemistry. I know I’ll run into students who don’t understand the purpose in learning chemistry, but I’ll strive to show them how it’s one of the most beautiful studies of God’s creation—displaying the complexity of design and the complete order set up in the world.

The call to teach is much more than learning about pedagogy and lesson planning, more than sharing a love for a subject area. It is a call to be a light in a dark world. It is a call to serve the students and the community in the best way you possibly can by not only sharing valuable academic information but also by taking a personal interest in the lives of these students. If I think back to my time in grade school through high school, and even now in college, there have been so many teachers who have impacted the way I think, the way I act, and my spiritual life more than I ever thought possible simply because they cared for me as a person. They gave of themselves to come alongside me and help me learn, but also to help me grow as a person by investing their time and energy into building relationships and giving advice. That is something I’ll forever be thankful for and something I hope I can do in my future classroom as well.

Standing on a Yoga Ball

            Sometimes life is a struggle. Standing on one of those yoga exercise balls is also a struggle. Therefore life is like standing on a yoga ball. For all of you familiar with logical syllogisms, I know that is technically a fallacious syllogism because there is an undistributed middle term. But I still think it is a helpful analogy to consider when pondering the complexities of life.

            How do you stand on a yoga ball? Is it even possible to get your feet planted on one without falling over first? Honestly, I have no idea, I've never tried actually standing on one. Many people thought I was really good at it though, due to a few of my senior pictures (right). Everyone was so impressed with how coordinated I was, until they found out that I was really standing on one of the red cement balls outside of Target. Cool photo op, but it wasn't exactly hard to stand on. It just took a bit of balance.
            Balance. What a lovely idea. Life is all about balance-- something I've been realizing more and more lately. You've all heard the phrase "too much of a good thing" and it's very true. Some parts of my life are truly amazing and it feels like I just want to spend all my time doing them (spending time with my friends, listening to music), but if that was actually all I did, I'm sure I'd get a little fed up with even my closest friends and listening to music would lose its appeal. On the flip side, if these thing were completely eliminated, my life would be significantly sadder.
            It's all about finding time to be social and time to be alone. Time to work hard and be productive, but time time to relax and de-stress as well. Not gorging myself on food when I actually do come home, but also not forgetting to eat because I'm so busy. Sleeping long enough to function, but staying up late enough to get homework done. These are all practical balances*; they are all also balances that I struggle with on a day to day basis. But the more abstract balances are the ones that pique my interest even more.
            How do we pursue knowledge while acknowledging that we will never be able to know and understand fully? How do we act to bring about the Kingdom of God on earth, while acknowledging that this world is so broken that we will never be able to see it in its fullness in the here and now. It is already here in the church, but not yet here in its fullness**. Why do we strive so much to get to know other people, when we know that we can't solve the mystery of another person? As my religion professor says, "A mystery is different from a problem; problems get solved, mysteries get explored." Balance, that's the answer. 
            Don't lose the mystery of life. Don't ignore the mystery; don't be consumed by it. Balance these extremes. Life is one big balancing act; I feel as if I'm already up there on that yoga ball. It gets hard to keep everything in check, but it is possible! It can be done. I can't tell you how to balance your schedule or your checkbook and I also can't explain the balance found in the most accurate answers to some of life's hardest questions. But I can encourage to strive for that balance, it makes things a little bit easier. I myself am still trying to find that optimum balance. I come tumbling off that yoga ball way too often, but each time I do I learn what not to do next time. And though I may never perfectly get the hang of it, I'm always improving. Always searching, always learning, always weighing the options. Always balancing. 

*I find that this reminds me of Ecclesiastes 3:1-11, one of my favorite passages. I often find myself taking great comfort in the fact that my time is not my own. It is a gift from God, and I should be a good steward of it, but what God has ordained to happen will happen. Ecclesiastes 3:1-11 reads as follows:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. 

**I kind of derived this idea from a prayer said to be written either by Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador or as a reflection on his life and work there. It has been a very influential poem in my life and goes by many different names: "Prophets of a Future Not Our Own" or "It Helps Now and Then" or "A Step Along the Way." No matter its title, the message is very moving and the poem itself is eloquently worded. It really is quite beautiful. If you haven't read it, you can find a copy of it to read here.  

Instead of an About Me Section

         I am not in the mood to discuss anything deep at the moment. That's not to say I'm in a bad mood, but after several hours of classes and many more hours of homework, my brain is a bit burned out in the intellectual realm. So I think I'll go for something a little different this time.
         You can really learn a lot about a person from some of their favorite things. Hence the "25 Things About Me" Facebook notes and the awkward small talk conversation go-to "So, what kind of movies do you like?" or something of the sort. But to me, each piece of pop culture, art, poetry, or each hobby and past time reveals a bit more about the person than meets the eye. I've been struggling to come up with an About Me section for this blog lately, so I think a bunch of mini-lists of things I like will work even better. Enjoy!

Favorite Songs (at the moment):

• "She's Always a Woman" by Billy Joel
• "All Will Be Well" by the Gabe Dixon Band
• "Hey Pretty Girl" by Kip Moore

What I'm Currently Reading (or trying to...):

Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare

Three Random Things I Have an Affinity For:

• Owls
• Nutcrackers
• Peace Signs

Best Advice I've Ever Received:

"Serve God; enjoy life."

Television Shows I Think Are Worth Watching:

• Bones
• Doctor Who
• Broadchurch
• The Big Bang Theory

Favorite Feeling:

Taking a walk late at night, in the autumn-- the glorious moon shining bright, the wind gently blowing my hair, leaves rustling a bit, enough chill in the air to make me pull the sleeves of my hoodie down over my palms. Perfect.

Most Loved Piece of Clothing (right now):

This new 60's-ish long sleeve dress my Grandma bought for me!

I pretty much love dresses in general. Too bad they're super hard to play cello in.

This Year's Favorite Verse:

Ecclesiastes 3:11, NIV: "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."

Four Good Poems/Sonnets You Should Check Out:

• "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost
• "She Walks in Beauty" by George Gordon (Lord Byron) 
• "The Touch of the Master's Hand" by Myra Brooks Welch
• "The World Is Too Much With Us" by William Wordsworth

And here's this. Just because I think the 'Keep Calm' stuff is cool and I'm such a nerd. So best of both worlds in this one!

And What of Things We Cannot Describe?

           I am a lover of words. I have always enjoyed writing and my love of it grows more every day. I haven't always been so keen on reading, but I slowly am learning to love it too; you can't have one without the other. For as long as I can remember, whenever I find an idea that really interests me, I have these one-sided dialogues in my head to expound on the interesting thought. These speeches to myself eventually evolved into this blog, to describe and share ideas and events that pertain to my life-- and hopefully to others' lives as well. But every once in a while I'll run across something that I can't accurately describe. It's not just that I am incapable of forming the right order of words (although sometimes that may be the case), but instead that I will have stumbled upon a part of being human that cannot be done justice by words alone.
            A few days ago I tried to make a couple of lists; who doesn't love a good list, right? I tried to describe a person's essential being: their personality, likes and dislikes, quirks, associations, everything in a mere 20 items. Sure, you can do that, but it seems a bit cruel-- taking everything you love about yourself or another person and reducing to simple words. While I can pick a bunch of adjectives that describe me to some extent, I can't fully encompass my "me-ness" (or "human-ness" if you prefer) with words alone. It's some combination of words and thoughts and feelings, interactions and associations, environment and choices. Each person is indescribable. 
            Are you jumping on my We Can't Describe Everything boat yet? No? How about another example. Though many have tried and a few have come close, analogies, metaphors, and eloquently worded sonnets cannot quite describe the first time you hold hands with someone. Clichés like having your heart skip a beat and having butterflies in your stomach are well known for a reason. They are close to describing the feeling. But there's still something missing. It's exciting and terrifying, lovely and comforting, and pretty much every other emotion you can throw in there. But you can't wrap up every feeling and every thought of that moment with words.
            And what about music? I can feel a piece of music. I can play it. I can (and do) get emotionally invested in it. I can tell people how amazing and awe-inspiring it is. I can learn the history behind it. I can analyze it. But I can't begin to describe it. If I could transfer all the hours of rehearsal-- individual and communal, filled with frustrations and triumphs-- to you through my words, I would. If I could bring you on the emotional journey of the piece by talking you through it, I would. But the reality is, I can't. You have to listen to it for yourself, and that's the beauty of it. I can't describe it.
             So what do we do with these things that humans cannot describe with words? We innovate. We create new words and phrases that get us one step closer to fully describing said things. More art (that also cannot be described) is made, but it helps us to understand life a bit better as our minds make connections. Most of all, we try. Whether success or failure awaits us, we try to share our experience in this life with others through words. That's the mystery and the balance of it all. We use words to describe, but also to describe that we cannot describe.

You Are a Walking Contradiction

           Seriously, I don't mean to insult you, but everyone I've ever met is in one way or another a walking contradiction. And this is not a bad thing. Similar to almost everything else in life, everyone falls somewhere on a broad spectrum: I know people who are basically the physical embodiment of irony and others whose personalities seem to be 99% consistent. It's such an interesting part of being human-- to have two integral parts of your personality and preferences be totally contradictory and even oxymoronic. 
           Maybe an example or two will help explain what I mean. Some people thoroughly enjoy the outdoors, nature and hiking and all, but are very mechanically or technologically inclined. Others long for a sense of community and a place to belong, but don't really like being around people that much. I think everyone at some point wants to stand out enough to be noticed and different, but fit in enough not to be considered the weird kid. But as I get older and have met more people I've begun to realize that not caring what other people think about you is one of the world's best stress relievers. Anyways, my point is that everyone has these strange little quirks that contradict each other, but work.
           Personally, I see these in myself all the time and can't help but wonder how my mind doesn't beat itself to death because of the way it disagrees. I will sit still through a two-and-a-half hour opera, anxiously anticipating each new part of the story and each beautiful musical aria, but I get fidgety as all get out and can't wait for the end of an 90 minute movie (it depends on the movie, but for the most part this is true). I am a city girl at heart, yet I know the words to every Top 20 country song from 1999 to the present. I chose to commute to college, but I hate driving. I am one of the most literal people on the planet, but my use of the word "like" rivals that of a Valley Girl (okay, maybe it's not that bad, but I catch myself using it more than I should). 
           That turned out a bit more autobiographical than I had originally planned, but I suppose you got a glimpse of the specific examples that puzzle my brain. Additionally, although it may be a stretch, when you dig a bit deeper, I think some of these blatant contradictions actually work well together and are even sprung from the same desire. The desire to be respected drives people to try their hardest, but not look like they're trying too hard. The desire to have control of one's life can actually cause out of control reactions; for example, life happens and someone loses a relative or a job. They feel like they have no control, so they turn to over-exercising, or reckless behavior, or calorie-counting because it is something they can control. Same desire, contradictory behaviors. I could probably come up with more examples, or try to verbalize some other related thought, but I think I shall leave you with this: You are a walking contradiction. Embrace it. Embrace everything that makes you, you. Even if we can't figure out how it works, embrace the contradictions.