Teacher, Teacher!

Every kid has a dream. As a Kindergartner, mine was to be an elementary school teacher. I liked to play school with my stuffed animals, who would dutifully listen as I expounded the complexities of counting to 100. I dreamed of the projects I would have my students do, and I started a mental list of things I would do when I was a teacher
I may not be a Kindergartner anymore, but I still want to be an elementary school teacher. There's many reasons why, but the main reason is that I love little kids! There's something captivating about their innocence, their purity, their energy, their simplicity. I can relate, as I'm definitely a kid at heart. I can think of no better way to spend the rest of my life than by working with kids, and getting paid to do so.
I also love teaching! I've had the opportunity to teach in church, in school, and through tutoring programs, and I've loved every minute of each opportunity. I like to watch the light of understanding that illuminates kids' eyes when they understand a topic. I also love the creativity, the fun, and the intimacy that teaching allows. I cannot wait to become a teacher!
That being said, I cannot understand why so many people give me flack when I tell them my career goals for the future. I've been told, "You're smarter than that job" and "you can do better." I've been accused of wanting to take an easy route through college and have been told to pick a different career. I have heard it all.
...and it infuriates me! There's nothing easy about being a teacher. The job takes a special skill, patience, and tolerance that not everyone has, and it requires expertise in multiple areas and professions. Teachers are janitors, cleaning up after the snotty nosed dirty kids who traipse through their classrooms. They are surrogate mothers, caring for their students' mental, intellectual, and emotional needs. They are counselors, handing out free advice to anyone willing to listen. They are innovators, finding brilliant new ways to teach children of different capacities and backgrounds. They are scientists and readers and writers and mathematicians. They mentor, they discipline, they grade, they organize, they clean, they sacrifice, they LOVE! And not everyone can do all that.
Sure, the aerospace engineers and the neurosurgeons of the world may claim that teachers have it easy: they get summers off, have relatively short working days, and their job doesn't require much complex technical knowledge. But those scientists are so wrong. I'd honestly like to send them to teach first grade and see if they survive the ordeal. Maybe afterwards they will realize that teachers matter. Lawyers and doctors may be the people that make headlines, but teachers are the ones that save lives and change the world, one kid at a time.
I wish people would congratulate me when I tell them my dreams. I wish I could proudly say "I want to be a teacher!" instead of feeling embarrassed or ashamed of my "low goals". I wish there was no stigma attached to teaching. Adults tell kids from the cradle upward that they can be whatever they want to be; it's about time that they start practicing what they preach. Next time someone tells you they want to be an elementary school teacher, tell them to go for it. Tell them there are few jobs as noble and as important as that of a teacher. And believe it when you say it.

Life Is Beautiful

It's a warm Sunday afternoon in February, and I'm sitting on the bricks in front of church waiting to be picked up. I'm wearing my Sunday best, looking neat and, I hope, pretty. I sit with my ankles crossed, my skirt pulled carefully over my knees. I'm leaning back on my hands, and I toss my head to the sky to soak up some sun. It's such a peaceful, perfect, day, I can't help but smile.
I pull out my phone and scroll through my Church playlist until I find my favorite song on the list, "Come Thou Font" sung by Jessica Frech. I turn up the volume then let the music fill the air and fill my soul. The simple tune puts me at peace. I am once again struck with wonder at how beautiful the world is and how blessed I am.
Now back up a few days to Friday. It was one of those days where I was so tired that my contacts wouldn't stick to my eyeballs, so I was stuck wearing my glasses all day, which steadfastly refused to stay on my nose. I wore my hair in a messy bun, the kind of bun that sags too much to pass for the tousled chic look that's so popular these days. During second period, I was caught red handed doing econ homework instead of environmental science. I self exiled myself underneath the table (but that's another hilarious story for another day) and barely got through the rest of the period. Overall, I was a mess.
In hindsight, Friday's problems seem so trivial, and Sunday's blessings seem so eternal. What does it matter in the long run if I've got messy hair or messy grades? I'll get a clean slate to try again tomorrow. I can do whatever I want with my life. This upcoming month, I'm going to try to have more Sundays and less Fridays, more gratitude and less griping.
The song that I love so much, "Come Thou Font", comes to my mind again. The lyrics say "Come thou font of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy praise. Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise." I cannot put it better. As we all seek to find happiness in our lives, we should remember all that we already have to be happy about. And then thank the people and the Person who makes it all possible.

Life is beautiful, because I make it so. Open your eyes, and life will be beautiful for you too.

My Red Sneaks

For Christmas, I got a pair of bright red Converse. I love them so much! I wrote this little piece in an attempt to accurately portray my gratitude for my new shoes.

I smile at my red sneaks. With black jeans, a flannel shirt, and messy hair, I pull off the slouchy chic look. My shoes pop and seem to tell the world, look out, here I come. I dress for no one but me.
I dance in my red sneaks. It's choreography day in my show choir class, and we're grooving to Ease on Down the Road from the Whiz. I think of how appropriate my shoe choice is for today. I may not own Dorothy's ruby red slippers, but I own something pretty close.
I play piano in my red sneaks. My hands fly across the piano keys, coaxing music out of the old instrument that sits in my living room. One red shoe taps out a steady beat on the floor, metronome style, the other pulses up and down on the piano's pedal.
I pace in my red sneaks. Back and forth across the room I wander, muttering important facts under my breath as I study for my science test. The color red gives me confidence, makes me bold. I can do this, I will do this.
I strut in my red sneaks. I dare in my red sneaks. I jump in my red sneaks. I twirl in my red sneaks. I love my red sneaks!
I wonder what shoes I'll wear tomorrow? Maybe I'll wake up and be in a sunshiny mood, so I'll match my internal sunshine with a pair of yellow Chuck Taylors. Maybe I'll don my sparkly silver heels and be princess for the day. Maybe I'll pull on some boots and go splashing through the puddles of winter rain. Maybe I'll wake up feeling lazy and laid-back, and I'll wear my flip flops from dollar tree.
I know tomorrow's shoes will bring new adventures, new journeys, and new memories. Today, I'll wear my red shoes and see where they take me. Look out world, I'm going places. Me and my red sneaks.

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose" -Dr. Seuss

Why I think Christmas is Merry

Christmas is my absolute favorite holiday! For fun, I compiled a list of my top ten reasons why I love Christmas, in no particular order:
10.) The general ambience of the season: You all know what I'm talking about. Everyone seems to be a bit more friendly, giving, kind, and patient.
9.) Christmas traditions: Some things are just more special when you do them year after year
8.) All the wonderful smells: From molasses gingersnap cookies to homemade bread to live Christmas trees to hot chocolate, our home always smells wonderful in December
7.) Service opportunities: Christmastime gives me many opportunities to serve others in special ways, like going caroling at a veteran's hospital
6.) The weather: I love how cold it gets, even if it's only a SoCal level of cold
5.) Family Christmas parities: They include lots of food, jokes, and to-the-death ornament exchanges (seriously. This year someone used the Jedi chokehold when their gift was stolen)
4.) Gift exchanging: Even if all the gifts I wrap look terrible!
3.) Performances: I love being in and watching Christmas performances (This year I saw A Christmas Carol play at the Long Beach Playhouse, and it was amazing!)
2.) The music! I started playing Christmas music way back in September and kept it going all through Halloween and Thanksgiving. 
1.) Spending time with family: It's the favorite thing to do during Christmas
The biggest reason why I love Christmas, however, is more important than any other reason I put on my top ten list. It has to do with a baby boy, born thousands of years ago, who came to Earth in the humblest of circumstances. This little boy is what makes my Christmases matter, and what makes every day of my life matter.
One of my favorite Christmas songs is, "Mary, did you know?" I've often pondered this age old question during the Christmas season. Did Mary know who her baby boy would one day become? Did she know that the sacrifice He would make would save her, and me, and everyone in the whole world? Did she know He would be the Savior? Maybe Mary didn't know all that then, but I know it now. And that knowledge makes Christmas worth celebrating and life worth living.

Hope you have a Merry and sunshine-filled Christmas!

The Giggling Scholar

On our family's Christmas card ages ago, my mother gave everyone in my family a fun name. For example, my brother's name was "head of covert operations" because he was constantly devising mischievous little plans to steal food from the cupboard or flood the bathroom with two inches of water. My siblings all had similar personality appropriate names. My name was the Giggling Scholar because I was infamous for laughing hysterical at any joke, even if it wasn't very funny. Every once in awhile, my family still like to laugh about the name. This is one of many inside jokes I share with my family. There are ones I share with my friends too, and if anyone mentions, "a pet cemetery" "Cheezit Scrabble" or "Popcorn", my friends and I automatically roll into giggles. These words trigger great memories of awkward, stupid, or funny situations that we've shared together.
From inside jokes to puns to funny situations, humor is definitely something I find very important in my life. First off, I've formed great friendships over humor. The "Cheezit Scrabble" joke, for instance, marked the firm beginning of one of my most cherished friendships. Other similar instances have strengthen my relationships with my friends in much the same way that shared interests or similar talents bring people together. Humor helps diffuse awkward situations, and humorous memories connect people in a way that not much else can.
Humor also helps me keep perspective in life. I come from a big family of seven. Life is... well, crazy. With so many people in one house, it's a daily struggle to balance conflicting schedules while still keeping everyone fed, clothed, and happy. Sometimes, we mess up. We use somebody else's toothbrush, or "accidently" eat our mom's secret stash of dark chocolate, or walk out of the house wearing a sibling's shirt. In the face of these potentially contentious situations, we all try and just laugh. It's the only thing that keeps our crazy family sane.
Finally, humor helps bring joy into other people's lives. Anyone who has hung around little kids a lot knows that a funny face or a weird sound effect can switch a child's mood from pouty to giggly instantly. When humor is used positively, it brightens lives and widens smiles. Laughter really is the best medicine!
So today? Find something to laugh about. More importantly, find someone you can laugh with.

Desert Secrets

I opened my eyes begrudgingly to the cold dry dawn of the desert. I glanced at the clock; 5:33 am, too early for anything. My dad had woken us all up at 2 in the morning to begin the long drive to my aunt’s house. I’d been sleeping on and off, waking up almost every hour, uncomfortable and stiff necked. While attempting to stretch out the stiffness in my body, I glanced out the window and saw… basically nothing. There was not much of anything to see, only miles of dust speckled by the gray green harshness of a few shrubs sunk in the dirt. I shifted to a new equally uncomfortable position in my chair, using my seatbelt as a pseudo pillow, and eventually fell back asleep.

I woke again later to a burst of light flooding the horizon. Color, vibrant and bright against the still dark purple of night, stained the wispy, trailing clouds in the sky. I was suddenly struck by the sheer vastness of the heavens and the eternity of the rolling desert land. There was so much to see, and my body’s fatigue from hours of travel seemed to be chased away by sheer wonder. This time, I wasn’t tempted to fall back sleep. I sat watching the beautiful sky and the rising, spreading colors of the sunrise until the magic ended and the sun came up. The desert was once again restored to the dull colors of beige and gray green. I turned away from my window, knowing that there was nothing more to be seen  now but the blazing blinding light of the ascending sun. With the light show over, I started busying myself by pulling out snacks and books and movies. The rest of the drive proved to be nothing special, with only emptiness to be seen out my window. In between movies, I would glance out and spot the only visible living things in the desert: cacti, looking like sentinels sporadically placed to protect the secrets of the desert. I knew, however, what secret the cacti were protecting: the secret beauty of the desert, a secret only to be discovered by those observant and watchful enough to notice it.

(Picture credit goes to another family member)

 

Of Watermelon Oreos, Mac and Cheese, and Sunshine

World hunger. Poverty. Disease. Death. Phone chargers that don't reach all the way to your bed. Failures and fears and just plain freaking out. Watermelon Oreos, brussel sprouts, empty lead pencils, and bags of chips which really turn out to be bags of air.
There's a lot of bad stuff in the world; enough to keep anyone miserable for a lifetime. I know most of us have formulated our own Why Life Sucks laundry lists that could effectively serve this lifetime of misery goal. We often read our lists to anyone willing to listen to us, and we thus further spread the misery. There's just so much that is wrong with the world, with our lives, and with ourselves, it's hard NOT to revert to this woe-is-me type attitude. It's the attitude that requires the least amount of effort on our part.
The true challenge is learning to see the good in everything. How often do we write Why Life's Amazing laundry lists? We've got pizza. Hope. Toothbrushes. Flowers. Joy. Colors and macaroni and cheese and sunrises and sunsets. We've got so much to be happy about! That's why I want to write about sunshine. I want to give a positive perspective to a negative world.
Now to an explanation of the second part of my name, "Scatterer". Scattering implies randomness, and that's exactly what I intended it to mean. I'm not writing on a certain topic or writing only to certain types of people. I want the freedom to write about anything, and I subsequently want the freedom to write to anyone. Sunshine is for everyone. Period.
I hope that I can be a Sunshine Scatterer and bring a little hope and joy into your lives.

-The Sunshine Scatterer