Tag Archives: inspiration

Coming Full Circle

Many years ago, I was a student at Glendale Community College, couch surfing to avoid homelessness and struggling to finish a successful semester. An instructor noticed, offered support, and helped me when I needed it most. Today, I stand in front of my own classroom at GCC, given the opportunity to pay that kindness forward. This is the power of community colleges, and it’s why I chose to teach here.

Community colleges have always existed to bridge gaps. When Joliet Junior College opened its doors in 1901 as a direct connection to the high school, it addressed a fundamental inequity: higher education was largely reserved for white, moderately wealthy, male landowners. The 1944 GI Bill expanded this mission, and when John W. Snyder’s report on “The Veteran and Higher Education” challenged President Truman to examine what higher education could become, the resulting Truman Commission report transformed the landscape. The Commission wanted students of all social and economic backgrounds to access higher education, to create better citizens and a stronger society. Their vision worked. Campuses became more inclusive, enrolling Black students, women, and other minorities in unprecedented numbers. Today, community colleges exist in every congressional district in the United States, continuing that mission of access and opportunity.

In 2022, I was part of a conversation with then Under Secretary James Kvaal of the U.S. Department of Education that crystallized why this mission still matters. He spoke about the inequities perpetuated by institutions that are “proud to turn students away” and emphasized that community colleges have a vital role, particularly for students at “lower and medium income levels.” Higher education, he said, needs to meet students where they are and consider their mental health and financial needs as a whole person, not just an enrollment number.

This is exactly what community colleges do. We try to do so much for everyone, working to remove the barriers to education. And in doing so, each of us makes a tangible difference in students’ lives.

In my first semester teaching as an OYO, fresh back in the United States after a decade abroad, a student confided that he was couch surfing at different friends’ houses because he was homeless. The situation was affecting his ability to complete coursework. As a new hire, I wasn’t yet familiar with all the campus supports available, but I knew some community resources. I brought him information and suggested places on campus where he could study and complete homework with reliable access to technology and space. That student finished the semester successfully.

Years later, as a newly hired probationary faculty member, I worked with a student facing financial issues that threatened to derail their entire educational pathway. This time, I knew exactly what the college could do to help and how to connect the student to those resources. They not only finished the semester successfully but went on to enroll in a bachelor’s program, which they’re on track to complete.

I used to work at universities where, as Mr. Kvaal noted, some were indeed “proud to turn students away” from their educational hopes and dreams. The perspective at Glendale Community College is drastically different. Here, instructors not only have the opportunity to support students, but that support is available, accessible, and actively encouraged.

For me, GCC represents a full-circle life experience. I was that struggling student once, uncertain about my future, navigating homelessness while trying to get an education. An instructor saw me, helped me, and changed the trajectory of my life. Now, I get to do the same for my students. I am living proof of the difference we make in the lives of our students, and I teach at a community college that does its very best to make that difference every single day for our students and our community.

A Wild West Garden Adventure

In the spirit of the upcoming Teaching in the Wild West CTLE Conference in April for my final Write6x6 post of 2025, I am hitching up my reflection horse and sharing a little of my trailblazing efforts. I hope you find something you can use on your own trails.

When my students got lost in the digital wilderness, I saddled up a semester-long trail ride through the Gaucho Urban Garden to lead them back to nature’s frontier. For several years, I have been working on an experiential learning experience that incorporates problem based learning for the students in my English Composition class. This year, I have expanded my approach in a way that I think is worth sharing. It all began in week one with the students tracking their digital technology use. Before heading to the garden, we had to face the truth about our digital habits—like recognizing when your trusty steed has become a stubborn mule. So, the students spent a week journaling about their technology use, using apps to track their time on their phones and paying attention to what they were doing with their time.

The week that followed was one of the more challenging ones. The students chose the most ornery of stallions to break, the technology they found was the most addictive. They broke up with that technology for seven days, journaling about their experience and about what they did instead of that habit. All the while, the students researched the mental and physical impacts of digital dependency. This part of the project culminated in an essay where they linked their research with their findings on their personal experiences. For many of the students, it was eye opening.

Next came the experiential learning component, the students began to work in the Gaucho Urban Garden. At the Gaucho Urban Garden, my students traded their digital spurs for garden gloves and learned that cultivating ideas requires getting your boots dirty. For one hour each week, the students would learn from a biology instructor about the care, maintenance, and upkeep of the garden. They planted seeds, harvested crops, learned about fertilizer and watering cycles, repaired sprinkler systems, and took ownership of an experience that most of them have never had before. All the while, they journaled about their experiences, what they were learning, and what foods they grew and ate. So many students ended up looping in their friends to the garden that we had more than just my students involved, and they kept coming back! This experience began as they were breaking up with their technology and continued through to the very end of the semester.

Then, the students began the research stage, where my students began to explore the possible solutions to digital dependency. My buckaroos rounded up solutions like skilled wranglers, corralling research into annotated bibliographies that would make any trail boss proud. They gathered sources, took notes, and explored solutions that would eventually be applied in their final essay. They got to know the skills they needed for the researching process and spent time in the library gaining new approaches from those friendly Gauchos, the librarians.

The next stage was a home based activity that also involved research and reflection. The home composting project. Their home composting adventures were like taming wild territory—turning kitchen scraps into gold just as surely as any prospector struck paydirt. The students researched what it takes to compost and began working on a small scale composting project that they digitally journaled about. The digital journals weren’t just campfire tales—they were carefully mapped trails showing others how to follow in their footsteps that led to the next stage of the course. Creating “how-to” TikTok style (or Youtube short) videos around composting or gardening, or in some way related to their suggested solution. Creating those ‘how-to’ TikToks was like learning to quickdraw—communicating their solutions faster than a gunslinger at high noon.

Once these stages were completed, it was time to bring together all the elements they’d gathered along the trail, like a skilled scout who knows how to read the landscape and find the clearest path forward. The students wrote an essay that brought together all of the ideas, the projects, and their experiences with the research. With a combination of metacognition, reflection, research, and rhetoric, the final essay hits every learning objective in the course. The students were able to demonstrate the skills they had learned in composition and apply those skills in a way that made it obvious why the skill was important.

Basically, in this wild west approach to teaching composition skills, these digital cowboys and cowgirls had learned to rope, ride and wrangle their way to a healthier balance between technology and nature. The students have told me that this has been an incredibly fun way to apply the things they need to know for future classes, and I have watched them grow as learners. As they ride off into the sunset, I know they are prepared for blazing their own trails.

Battling with AI and Community Building

I’m taking on both sides of the coin again this week, although I just have a couple of things to say about AI. First, AI has been a part of our lives a lot longer than we think or knew. Second, I’ve spent a good deal of time on voice-activated technology (think ’90s) and it should work a lot better than it does.

For example, I finally changed the female voice of Siri to a male voice because my female was taking on a bit of an attitude, if you know what I mean. Every once in a while you could tell she really thought that you should just do whatever it was you asked her to do – yourself. The male version of Siri has gotten to the point where he just simply doesn’t respond – a bit passive aggressive, it seems, especially when I ask for directions. So, AI, we’re listening, and we are silently grading your actions! (It’s kind of like silently correcting your grammar – but with more attitude)…

Now the other side of the coin is creating a community. I am happy to say that I learned from some excellent GCC instructors here to do this for my online classes. In my classroom classes I would just use my enthusiasm to help create the community, but this is all online and asynchronous – and you and the students have to build that community through the words you choose and how you say it.

My Community Building Exercise has to get going right from week 1, so it is a Discussion Assignment in Canvas, and I start with my own, relatively down-home introduction, with a photo of my family, or our puppy dog. I want them to feel comfortable and get them to want to share as well. But, between that Introduction – Tell Us a Little About Yourself, with a great selfie of a happy young woman we start off by talking about ourselves. For example, above, you see a photo from years ago of my son eating snow. When we went back to Minnesota for a wedding in December a few years ago, we had a magical snowfall, and my son got to eat snow again, one of his favorite things. It’s not something you would generally include in an introduction.

The idea of the more laid-back introduction is to open up and tell something about me (and I mostly talk about how I ended up back in Arizona, when I actually was born here — but never lived here). That’s complicated enough. This is important because we (I’m already using the “royal” we) want to welcome, encourage, and trust what we say to each other in our discussions. We are all in this together. This is what ‘we’ are working on this week…

The Introductions take us wherever it goes. I’ve already mentioned on a previous Canvas page that positive responses help to create a more positive environment – and that was one of those ideas I got from one of the GCC teachers I mentioned. I answer every student during that first week with their own public answer to their introduction, as well as answer, in the public forum, any question they ask of me.

I’ve had some fabulous students from all different study areas, coming from all over the world, and those who have never been outside of Phoenix, but the point is that we share. We share our lives, our experiences, and then we continue throughout the semester — so that it doesn’t stop right there. It’s exciting to meet all of these people! And the last thing I say to them is the last announcement of my module:

“There are no goodbyes for us.  Wherever you are, you will always be in my heart.” – Gandhi

And I include this: “This is where we leave the class.  Grades are in, scores are (mostly) high!  You did well – and you lasted the semester!  Please don’t feel that because a few years pass you cannot send me an email about this course.  I’ve had many students re-connect and say, “because of this course I did amazing things.”  Go out and be amazing!“

That’s how I end our community. The community is not over, if you want to contact me you can. And saying goodbye for me is the hardest part.

Estonian composer Arvo Pärt said to a group of us, “If you are walking down the street and you see me, don’t be afraid to say, “Hi.” I’ll appreciate the fact that you did.” Such an internationally famous composer to say something like that to us! And I’ve learned from many of my students that they changed their major because of my class, or it saved them from their difficult semester of STEM classes or I’ve been happy to run into some of my honors students and one said to me, “You were right about the university atmosphere.”

Milestones Define the Student Journey

The student educational journey is filled with important milestones and new thresholds that they pass on a regular basis. It’s our job as educators to help them navigate each new step. So, let’s have a frank conversation about what that even means to us as Student Success professionals.

At the community college, students come to us from all stages in their lives. We encounter the new-to-college student who just turned 18, experiencing adulthood for the first time, all the way to seasoned adults coming back to reeducate for a new career or promotion. No matter where they come from or at what stage of life they are in, every single one of them is looking to us to help them navigate these milestones. The million-dollar question is always: How?

The simplest answer is, there isn’t one way. Years of student service tells us that national best practices and strategies in student success always comes down to the amount of human interaction we can give to our students. What makes a Guided Pathway model so successful is not just the concept of gathering similar academic programs into one cohesive group, it’s the experience the student has with the advisor in that area who helps them to explore their options. The online FAFSA form students and their parents can fill out within minutes isn’t what helps them to feel confident in their ability to fund their education, it’s the financial aid representative that takes the time to explain the process. Even early alert systems with their ability to help us flag students in crisis are meaningless without the person reaching out to the student to discuss their issues. Academia is great at thinking up innovative strategy to approach student success, but each student and their journey is unique. Implementing strategy is never enough, it inevitably comes down to the that one person on campus interacting with the student, that often times yields the best results.

Like I said before, the student’s journey is a collection of milestones and thresholds. They encounter something new in almost every step of the way. When we work with a student it’s our job to assess in that moment where the student is coming from, what is the issue, and how best can we help. Active listening is paramount to understanding and allowing the student to fully explain or express their questions or concerns before we start telling them the solution. Listening is essential to not only giving the most accurate info, but to also validate who they are and what they are dealing with. In our experience, most students, when they walk into our spaces seeking our help, are just looking for that connection. They are more than ok when we tell them we don’t have an answer for them. Often times our best tool is to sit and listen. Getting to know our students is the first step in providing the right kind of help at the right time.

As a rule, we encourage our students to come back and see us multiple times a semester, not because we feel they need tracking, but because we get to know them and vice versa. Each visit is an opportunity to cultivate mutual respect and trust. Before long the student feels comfortable coming to us when they don’t understand something or encounter a new experience. Our relationship allows us to help them navigate in a way that makes sense and in a manner that makes sense. Which then equates to a better student experience overall. They aren’t intimidated by something new, because they know they have allies who can help them through it.

I challenge you to get to know your students, to evaluate your processes and put student learning and experience at the center of your decisions. Can we take our time during these interactions to allow for better understanding? Can we relate our own stories to help us connect to their experience? Can we remind ourselves that our interaction with our students is the purpose of our work?

Designing My Ideal Entryway: A Space for All

As a big fan of renovation, I was ecstatic when given the opportunity to design an entryway. To me, an entryway should do more than serve as a passage—it should set the tone for the entire space, welcoming everyone who crosses its threshold. I wanted my entryway to embody four key principles: a welcoming atmosphere, inclusivity and accessibility, community and engagement, and a future-focused approach. It is important to note that I was dreaming big and made this more of a building on campus rather than a singular classroom. 

A Welcoming Atmosphere

The moment someone steps into the space, they should feel a sense of warmth and inspiration. High ceilings and ample natural light create an open, airy environment that invites people in. Vibrant murals would adorn the walls, encouraging thought, conversation, and curiosity. These artistic elements would not only beautify the space but also challenge visitors to think critically and engage with the environment in a meaningful way.

Inclusivity and Accessibility

A truly inclusive entryway must cater to the needs of all individuals. Seating would be available at various heights to accommodate different comfort levels, and designated spaces would allow for wheelchair accessibility. Additionally, built-in technological features, such as easily accessible charging stations and device-friendly seating areas, would ensure that everyone has the resources they need to stay connected and engaged.

Community and Engagement

An entryway should reflect the people who pass through it. To foster a strong sense of community, I would incorporate a dedicated gallery space showcasing student and faculty work. From research projects to faculty innovations, this area would celebrate the contributions of those who make the institution thrive. By highlighting their achievements, the entryway would serve as a hub of creativity and intellectual exchange.

Future-Focused Design

The future of education and community spaces lies in sustainability and technological integration. This entryway would feature digital resource kiosks, providing real-time updates on events and opportunities. Eco-friendly elements, such as living plant walls, energy-efficient lighting, and sustainable furniture, would emphasize a commitment to environmental responsibility. Natural light would further reduce the need for artificial lighting, creating a harmonious balance between innovation and sustainability.

By designing an entryway with these principles in mind, I aim to create a space that is more than just a doorway—it is an experience. A place that welcomes, includes, engages, and inspires all who step inside. Whether through art, accessibility, community, or sustainability, this entryway would reflect the values that matter most to me and the broader community it serves.

Teaching to Excite

From our prompts, I found myself thinking about one of my favorite teachers. I thought my first favorite teacher would probably have a lot to do with discovering the fun of learning – and I was enthusiastic about learning right from the start. So, Mrs. Salter, my third grade teacher, came to mind, who introduced me to Brighty of the Grand Canyon, (whose shiny nose I have now seen and touched on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon – shiny because of all of the little kids and grown kids who have touched the wonderful nose that Marguerite Henry brought to life for so many) and Misty of Chincoteague Island, another of the many Henry books. But then I realized, I started with books much earlier than that, and I really should give credit to someone who taught me, but was not considered my teacher – my father’s roommate from college – Jim Jensen, who ultimately became a college professor in English.

I always enjoyed having Jim visit. He drove a Karmann Ghia, which I thought was very exotic, and to an extent, still do. Every time he came to our house and visited my parents, both of whom he knew from high school, if not earlier, he always brought me a book as a present. Nothing fancy but a Golden Book of some sort, and I ended up putting my name in all of my books even though I technically did not know how to write yet. I always started with the verticals and the slants and horizontal lines were added more creatively.

Yup, looking below, I knew I’d get mixed up from the first to the second N but after I had done it, I’d know it was wrong. Somehow, I couldn’t cross the vertical lines correctly twice in a row. I had no control or memory of how to do it at that age. And then the E had several lines across it, going down, but I never knew quite how many. More than two, but, in this example, obviously five was too many.

Anyway, Jim got to sleep on an air mattress in our attic, which I also thought was very exotic. I also noticed that when I looked at the air mattress in the morning it no longer had any air in it – so thinking back, it was probably the worst possible “bed” for comfort and little more than sleeping on the floor.

Learning What to and Not to Do

It wasn’t until I moved to Arizona that I heard the word Lifelong Learner, but knew that I was one, but had never heard the expression. It was something that I suggest to all of my students. You are not just learning in this class. You are always learning, and you will learn from every job or opportunity you have whether or not you like that job – so pay attention. Coming from so many different jobs over the years, retail sales, draftsman, receptionist, manager, editor, teacher, word processor, musician, and writer, among other jobs that I don’t even remember – I did know one thing – food service would be a disaster – so I never attempted that. The important thing was that I always paid attention, even if it meant that I would learn not to do something in a particular way because it didn’t make sense to do it the way “they” were doing it.

Favorite Authors

I appreciate some of our 6×6 authors mentioning Ray Bradbury. I went through as much of his stuff as I could find when I was younger, and loved being reminded of that journey, including “Fahrenheit 451,” among others. I’ve tried to read everyone’s work in 6×6 this spring because I’ve felt in previous years people weren’t trying to read each other’s works. I decided to make sure that I did. It’s the spirit of the thing.

I’ve mentioned a few of my favorite current authors, Louise Penny, a Canadian author, who created a wonderful arc between a number of books, to tell a much larger story, Mick Herron, of Slough Horses or Slough House fame, I’ve read even more arcs from his books, and the way he can create an introduction using a spirit is beyond inspirational. If I could write a book, I’d like to write like he writes, but I don’t think I have the talent. He also has short stories that are part of that very large arc, so I really have to pay attention when I read him because he uses so many word references to the back story of characters. My favorite line of his was when an individual was trying to dial a phone in an emergency and he created this beautiful play on words, “his fingers felt like thumbs, his thumbs like bananas.” Who hasn’t been there! Malcolm Gladwell can tell you why we can be “all thumbs” when the going gets tough – it’s psychological! John Camp (I mentioned his pen name in a different writing, but his Pulitzer is under this name), from the St. Paul Pioneer Press, whose works I simply devour – I can’t put them down. I have to re-read them later because I try to read to go to sleep, but find myself still reading at 3 a.m.! I’ve read ALL of his books. Michael Connelly is another fabulous writer. I started with the Bosch books, and have since read all of his books twice. That got me through a broken shoulder where I was in bed for the better part of three months.

I no longer put my name on the inside of books, written correctly or not, and most of what I now read is in a Kindle because my hands and neck can’t tolerate holding large books anymore. We all make adjustments; some are just to allow us to continue reading more and more from those that first introduced us to the excitement of books and learning and where authors can take us on their journeys – Berlin, London, Toronto, Brittany – and I didn’t even mention that French author, or the English one, that put Provence on everyone’s map!

My Office Accoutrements

I was on a Zoom call recently when someone looked at my background and said “Is that real?” We were in the process of setting up, and getting our meeting started so I didn’t realize she was talking to me, so I didn’t answer. (“You talkin’ to me?!”) But I digress.

As a matter of fact, my Zoom background isn’t a background at all. It is my office. It took years to learn that others used something similar as a background. In my office I have books. Behind me (while I’m sitting here writing this) looms a large two-tier floor to ceiling bookcase, and that was what she was seeing. But that was only one wall. I have two more walls of bookcases. In fact, my home is filled with books, and books, and books. Outside my office I have more floor to ceiling bookcases, which house hundreds of my husband’s books. The ones in my office are textbooks, reference books, music scores, and books and anthologies of poetry (mostly public domain) of poems I use or have used in my music. Anything I’m currently reading in fiction, Mick Herron, Ann Cleeves, or John Sanford (you have to know that reference or you won’t get the fact that he’s a Pulitzer-prize winning reporter with over forty books); or non-fiction, Malcolm Gladwell, for example, is in my Kindle, quietly holding hundreds more books. I don’t read so much as devour. But again, I digress.

Where my office doesn’t have books I have artwork, mostly paintings by my mother, whose work I greatly admire, in oils, watercolors, or pastels. When we moved her out of her home recently, we had to deal with her office – her art room. I’ll never forget when I mentioned to my husband that my mother won “Best in Show,” he glibly shot back, “What breed did she register under?” because he knew she had a fistful of ribbons that she’d won in competitions over the years. Along with ribbons were paints, paint brushes, paintings, ideas for paintings, and books about painting. We soon realized this was part of a floating iceberg – there was more art and were more canvases squirreled away in other parts of the house! She is 91, and now living in an apartment. She went to an art class recently given at her facility but pretended not to know anything so as not to show anyone up. Very Minnesotan of her – not a surprise since she was born and raised there. But again, I digress.

I happen to be very visual – and visually pleasing things help me to write and think. Sometimes I’m not looking at something as much as staring, thinking of the words I’m trying to elicit from my sometimes-slow-as-molasses brain. On my desk is a two-foot-high sculpture which I lugged on a plane, stowed between my feet coming back from Houston. I love it and am happy I went to the trouble to get it to my very first office, and every subsequent office since.

Minnesota Nice

I have finally tucked my degrees on a wall next to the aforementioned large bookcase when I moved to Arizona, but you won’t see them front and center. They would only be slightly noticeable if you completely entered the room. So, if you just stick your head in you surely won’t see them. And on a Zoom call they’re just out of focus enough that you can’t read them either. (That’s so “Minnesota” of me. You work your buns off only to place your degrees in a spot that people “might” see, but again, they “might not.” So, that’s being very Minnesotan, understated, but still honest, a bit like my mother, an award-winning artist but not about to show up a budding volunteer art teacher who was providing the little art class to other ninety-year-olds.) Again, digressing…

Office Particulars

I, too, have a stack of legal pads – I love legal pads (but prefer other colors to yellow if I have the option) and love to write things down. It’s a mnemonic, a memory tool, and I’m an inveterate doodler as well. So, somehow between the computer, the occasionally working printer – which is virtually brand new – and my legal pads I get my work completed. They all sit happily or grumpily on my desk (depending on threatening deadlines) along with a calendar of course deadlines, which week we happen to be in, and what my students’ imminent deadlines are.

Technically I have two offices and three desks. Two desks at angles to each other, in beautiful cherry, a wood that is not currently in vogue, but I don’t care. A cherry drafting table sits downstairs and looks at me imploringly under heavy brows when I descend the staircase. It sits next to the grand piano. It used to scold me, but now we have an “understanding.” When I feel like using it – I do. First plan regarding moving in, do not dream of moving a grand piano upstairs! Very good plan. At least the piano doesn’t have an attitude.

I mentioned going through my mother’s artwork and her office. Unfortunately, there will come a time when someone has to do that for me – and my music. Hopefully I’ll get to it before then, but one never knows. There are copyrights involved so there is some consolation on getting something for their trouble. Some of my music is in the closet with extra shelving. Some of the music is in a computer on pdfs (which computer does that reside in is the real question), some hard copies in file folders based on a previous method of storage. We (my husband and I) are trying to decide the next best way to store scores, parts, and recordings that go with each piece when it needs to go out to performers or conductors. This decision came after spending Christmas Break frantically searching through several computers, other closets in other rooms which hold older pieces, not to mention downstairs near the piano, where it might have also been, in an effort to find my second string quartet and vocal chamber piece that had to be sent RIGHT NOW.

My office was better organized when I taught at Hamline University because I had a secretary and an honors student assistant. But that was many pieces ago and a different institution and state. I simply have more music, larger pieces, and need a new organizational system. But it’s the middle of the semester, I’m working on two CD projects, and helping my students with their deadlines. I’ve finally gotten a couple of these 6×6 writings under my belt, which I’ve been owing. My accoutrements are scowling a little less as I walk into the room. What I probably need for my office is an assistant or perhaps less judgmental furniture . . . but I digress.

Remember This

 I have always been a lover of words, and as I've grown older, I find myself relying more and more on them as reminders of things I've forgotten. 

orange spiral wire against black background
Photo by Kiarash Mansouri
I lean on words.

I let words encourage me.

Words inspire me.

Words can take me back to a place or time worth remembering.

Words remind me of things my mind and body too easily forget. 

And so my office space has become a place where words surround me. 

There are hand-scrawled messages--names of two students I don't want to forget, the CTLE values, names of mentees, and my section of the honors program alphabet for reviewing their work. 

There are short sayings, inspirational messages I've acquired over the last couple of years given to me or collected by me. They are mostly taped near me, so I can see them daily. 

"Setting goals is the first step toward making the invisible visible." Tony Robbins

"...it's never too late to be whoever you want to be." Eric Roth

"If it's both terrifying and amazing then you should definitely pursue it." Erada

There are small cards on the wall and around my desk that contain messages meant for me on a particular day, and I keep these around me:

"I choose to let go of fear."

"I know that focusing my attention on things I cannot control distracts me from my journey." 

"My ability to conquer my challenges is limitless." 

There is a December calendar image and saying--a cat with bells around its neck. The quote reads, "Jingle all the way, nobody likes a half-assed jingler." And this will stay up even though it's no longer December because.

Finally, there is a small poster, and it was the first put up in my office. It says, "Let that shit go," and it is in my direct line of vision. That is my most important reminder of all. 

Office Space as Reflective Space: Who Am I?

When setting up my office space I wrestled with what to put on the walls–what do I want people to see when they come in my office? I meet with numerous students and I wanted the space to be a warm and inviting space that would provide a sense of who I am for those meeting me for the first time. The pictures and items on my walls reveal the diverse sides of who I am.

First, there is a picture of my family taken at my son’s wedding a few years ago. I love my family and this is a reminder that the most important things in life are not found in my office but in the relationships outside of it.

The next set of pictures revolve around Francis Schaeffer–a philosophical thinker. (I am in the Philosophy & Religious Studies Department, after all!)

Schaeffer was a philosopher and public intellectual whose writings I read in high school. He was the motivating factor for me to pursue philosophy and the life of the mind. I keep this quotation from him right above my desk as an inspirational reminder to me….

Next, people will see an art project my daughter and I worked on a few years ago. It’s based on the famous Shroud of Turin and we sought to recreate the image in a unique manner.

I read an article by literature professor, Nathan Wilson, about how he created a replication of the image by painting on a piece of glass and letting the sun bleach out the negative space. In other words, the dark parts of the image are not a result of being put on a light cloth but, rather, the result of a dark cloth being bleached out except for the areas of the image. My daughter and I tried it in our backyard and it worked!

No GCC office would be complete without a Gauchos flag!

The next two pictures reflect a bit of the fun side of who I am. These are also some of the first items students see when they come into my office. The first is a quotation from the movie “Nacho Libre”–a truly great movie!

And, finally, for the superhero enthusiast there is Batman. My friend drew this for me back in 1989. Michael Keaton’s Batman had recently come out and I was a fanatic. I saw the movie twice on the opening day–one time was at 3 am!

Yes, there are the miscellaneous philosophy books and scattered files that accompany any office in our department but the pictures give a picture of who I am in my diversity of personality. They remind me of who I am and I hope give a glimpse of my manifold character to the students who enter.

Podcast Power: Happiness

Recently, I have started listening to podcasts by Dr. Laurie Santos titled The Happiness Lab. I have enjoyed learning how our brains are wired to remember negative experiences over positive ones and how we can find happiness in the smallest things. This podcast has not necessarily had a profound impact on my class instruction rather on myself and the kindness I have toward the human condition. 

The Happiness Lab with Dr. Laurie Santos

The Happiness Lab speaks to the stress we put on ourselves and how that stress affects our bodies and minds. I have taught future elementary educators for the past 5 years. They are some of the most dedicated learners I have ever taught. However, they are also some of the most overwhelmed and self-critical students I have encountered. 

By listening to The Happiness Lab I have learned how to create healthier habits within myself and I am sharing what I have learned with my students. My students exhibit the effects of stress and I have found myself suggesting and sharing information from the podcast. Through listening to The Happiness Lab, my desire to help my students has increased to areas outside of the course content.