Goodbye, Little Ones

Saying goodbye is really no fun at all. Especially when it is sweet little ones you're watching walk out your door. I know, I know--we've made a difference, there will be more students, they'll visit. I try to stay strong. I bite my lip, make jokes, think about something--anything else in an unsuccessful attempt to take my mind off of the hole in my heart that comes hand-in-hand with the end of the school year. Regardless of my stone-cold effort and waterproof mascara, hugging my students good bye always brings on a teary, mascara-covered face. One would think I would get better at this kind of thing but nope, it still happens. Always.

Of course, the kiddos have no idea about my emotional state. They wave good bye with a skip, smile, and wave while I stand at the door watching them go whilst clutching a box of tissues. Maybe next year I'll be better. (I joke, I joke.)While all this teary mess could easily be summarized into a very compelling argument for me pursuing a less emotional career path, that is as likely as me not crying on next year's last day of school.

You couldn't drag me away from this work.

 

Today we said good bye to Rachael, the co-owner of Seedlings and my dear, dear friend. She created Seedlings so that her daughter would have the opportunity to attend an English-speaking preschool. Soon her family will return to Brooklyn. Seedlings will go on, but it certainly won't be the same without her. 

When will these good byes end?! This is torture.

Not that a caption is needed, of course, but for those of you who haven't seen me in awhile--this is me. Aside from the yarn hair I'd say her interpretation was spot-on.

As much as I'm sad, I'm equally grateful to have been a part of Seedlings' first year. This small, cozy business has served kids and families well. So well, that we mos def deserve this five free weeks we have coming to us. Something about the phrase, "School's out for summer" never gets old.

Where We Come From

Our unit began with the creation and discussion of globes, maps, and the fact that there are people alike and different from us all over the world.

I miss my Tomek-Eastern Elementary family terribly. Much of the courage I use to make sense of our crazy European adventure cones from the confidence I gained being a part of such an awesome group of teachers, parents, and kids. Almost as much as I miss all those terrific Tomek tigers, I miss being a part of an IB school. Working with my fellow first grade teachers to develop super interesting, authentic, and just all around cool IB curriculum was always a challenge that I could never get enough of.

So, when Rachael and I sat down to plan our 'Where We Come From" unit I put my IB foot forward. Together we created a month-long unit that focuses on each country students in our oldest class represent. Passports and suitcases in hand, we traveled to America, Canada, Israel, England, France, Turkey, and back to Germany. And boy, was it ever cute. 

Because many of our students are bi-cultural it was difficult for us to decide how to teach them where they came from. So, we turned to the parents and asked them decide. Some went with their own nationality, some said they cannot choose only one, and some chose where there child was born. The parents of my fellow Michigander are from Istanbul, but their son was raised in Northville (imagine that?!) and so they asked us to teach him that he is from America.

The Seedlings suitcases are now covered with 'symbol stamps' from each country. If it is the day we visit your country, you get to stamp the passport page and say, "Welcome to ...." Then, you get to glue the stamp of your country onto each suitcase. Here we have a Hamburg crest, Canadian maple leaf, and a London double decker bus.

These fun activities along with show 'n tells and heaps of books made for a fun, IB-like unit and I have loved every second of it. We have only one week left of the unit and the only thing I have left to do is figure out how to extend it.  

Thanking my Lucky Stars for our Little Stars

There is an endless number of reasons to love my days at school. Trains, planes, and wagons make the list, but believe it or not, there are even better chart-toppers than that:


Number 5. Our Little Library

Kids don't have to try to be cute. It just comes naturally. A smile and a hug from a student is enough to keep me going all day, but seeing a student enjoy a book can keep me happy all week. Our little stars love stories and books, and many of our books have been read at least a bajllion times (already this week).

4. Play-doh

No matter how wound up our kiddos get from our time outside, Play-doh can help them relax even quicker than a story. Since the original Play-doh can't be found in Hamburg we had to improvise until we had a chance to import a new pack of the real stuff. It's here now and seeing them entertained with the same stuff that entertained me a couple of decades ago is pretty darn endearing.

3. Crafts Galore

From pasta necklaces to shape men to handprint rainbows our little stars explore weekly the wonderful world of preschool crafts. And when they finish in 0.2 seconds I can easily entertain them with scraps of paper, a plain sheet of paper, and a gluestick. It's magic.

2. Our Classroom

It may be little, but it's as cozy as cozy gets and is exactly what we need.

1. Outside Time

 Our daily outside hour is highly regarded by all of our little cuties. We find plenty of things to do, no matter if the ground is snow covered...

You wouldn't believe how popular sleds are in HH. Parents use them as an everyday mode of trans when our city turns into a snow globe.

mud covered...

or covered in green (though rare, it does happen).



I'm sure you'll agree that all in all, it's not a bad way to spend a day. While these five are big reasons why I love my work, there are many reasons why I am thanking my lucky stars for our little stars.

Taking Chances

I don't feel any different. Not really, anyway. Sure I've learned a few things about this crazy German language and I finally know how to navigate public transit in what used to feel like a neverending concrete jungle, but really I feel like just about the same old LD that I was when we waved goodbye to all our folks at home last June. I hadn't expected this to be the case--I expected some colossal change in what makes me me so that I would return to Michigan a shiny new gal. But, now that Reggie and I have constructed a life in HH (from scratch) I have learned that though our super cool new European experiences will challenge us, teach us, and enhance our lives, who we are will remain. This means that it doesn't take a superhero to take on a challenge like surviving a move across the ocean, or shark-diving, or fighting world hunger--it just takes a person eager and willing to take a risk.

I fully realize that the risks I have taken are nothing compared to the likes of some, so I push myself to keep pushing on and taking more chances.  Opting to take the teaching position at my beloved Seedlings was a risk. It would mean a completely new teaching experience (of inexplicably intimidating little tikes) and it wasn't Tomek. There were lots of ifs. But, within minutes of meeting the founders of my now second Hamburg home I knew that given the chance I would love working with them. Both are strong, admirably capable, and incredibly compassionate women who were willing to take a risk to start what has now become a thriving school. And they took a chance on me--with zero preschool teaching experience it must have been my relentless enthusiasm that caught their attention. The whys make no difference now; we've finished the first part of the first year of Seedlings and I've loved every minute of it.

So have these guys.



These cuties make up one of our two classes.





Oh yeah, we totally built that.



with Rachael and Grit

Realizing that who I am isn't going to change depending upon my geographic location made something else quite clear: the ambitious world-travelers that I have met and ooh-ed and ahh-ed over are just regular folks living out their dreams. I predicted I would leave the only spot I had ever called home and come back some strong, powerful force. Now I realize that there's no such thing as an elite class of folks capable of being world-traveling go-getters--there's only people willing to take a chance. That notion is as refreshing as finding a Hamburg restaurant that will serve you ice water without giving you a funny look first.

Even if they are just regular people willing to take a big risk, having Rachael and Grit, and Seedlings, of course, in my life is a big reason why I am enjoying my time in HH as much as I am. They have welcomed me into their lovely school with open arms and have given me a chance to teach, making me realize more and more everyday that the memories I'll take home with me will come more from the relationships I make than from the places I'll see. I can't think of a more poignant reminder to take a pause on worrying about the must-see list and to simply slow down and enjoy instead.

And We're Off!

I knew halfway through my Seedlings interview that if I was fortunate enough to land the job I would love it. The founders of the school are two fabulous ladies whole-heartedly dedicated to our cause and the passion and compassion oozes out of them. This being said, I must admit that I accepted the position with some discretion. Not having taught tikes littler than first graders I entered Day 1 cautiously. I never would have thought that at 28 I'd still be approaching the first day of school wondering, "Will anyone like me?"

Two weeks down and it turns out we all like each other a lot. (Big smile.) We spend our mornings working hard to build inventive train tracks, creating inspired art projects, and singing and dancing all over the room. Until now I have not had the opportunity to work with such a small group of little people and working side-by-side with them for hours at a time is too fun to describe.

I'm sure you'll notice I cleaned up a bit before taking these photos.



Yep, that's a real kiddo back there amongst all the fun.



An appropriate tagline may be, "It's Christmas every day at Seedlings!"



Our fifteen cuties come from seven different countries and my co-workers and I come from three different continents. All parents speak English and many of the students do as well. (Many as in not all.) I've had to rely on my classroom Spanish quite a bit and have discovered that I retained some things that I don't remember learning. (Even though this baffles me I don't question it because it's proven to be tremendously helpful.)

As someone passionate (or obsessed, rather) about learning about cultures, I came into this great new place giddy to be surrounded by such an influx of culture variation. I was prepared for culture shock. However, I've learned a lot about this in my short time in Europe. What I now know for sure is that we are all much more the same than we are different, and this applies to children more than anything. Our Canadian students love playing with cars, trucks, and trains as much as our student from Venezuela and our student from Russia loves hearing a story as much as our American, German, and English students. Sharing is hard--and sometimes impossible--for everyone. When they're sad they want a hug and when they're happy they scream at the top of their lungs (but not only when they're happy, of course...)--no matter their native tongue. Many of my former fellow-teachers and I have worked hard to educate our students about cultures other than our own. I believe this is a necessity, but I believe in the importance of highlighting the similarities just as much. It is comforting to have discovered that kids are their funny, enchanting selves no matter where their home is.

Taking the risk to try something totally new paid off. But I really should've known, how could I go wrong with train sets and crayons at my disposal?

                                            

Lauren the Lehrerin

(Lauren the Teacher)

I thank my junior year high school trip to Northern Italy for catching the attention of the relentless travel bug I now host. This determined bug bit me then like a starving mosquito and I predict it will continue biting until I've covered at least half the globe. I was 17 when I first stepped foot off North America. My classmates and I toured seven cities from top to bottom as we ate our way through that spectacular country. I was a new woman when I returned. I knew more than I did before that trip and I had the confidence to do things I wouldn't dare have tried prior to my travels. I was hooked and I was ready for more.

I started reading travel guides and collecting travel photography books obsessively. My dad, remembering how much my mom had loved traveling, didn't hesitate to supply me with these treats. I diligently recorded every detail of what I'd need to know when the day came that I could travel again. Traveling became my Prince Charming and I was ready and waiting for him to come knocking on my door. Alas, Prince Charming connecting with Cinderella isn't a common occurrence; a poor college student working my way through my undergrad, splurging on travel was only a dream. So, my friends and I road-tripped our way through our spring breaks and summers and although I longed for more, I did what I could to fight off the itch this exasperating bug was causing me.

Prior to declaring my undergrad major I was asked by a frequent customer at my place of employment if I would be interested in tutoring English to International Teaching Assistants to help them prepare for the English speaking exam they were responsible for passing prior to leading classes. This customer was a professor involved in the study abroad program and was responsible for ensuring these new TA's adjusted well to their new lives in Michigan. She went on to explain the program and I listened respectfully. At the end of her spiel I said, "You had me at international." When can I start? I felt the bug bite through my clothes that time.

Working with these brave folks with faces from all over the world was the most multicultural experience I had had. Perhaps it was the most humbling as well. You mean, Michigan isn't the only place where things are happening? I asked them as many questions as they asked me. From them I got travel ideas, from me they learned how Michiganders live. They were excited to be in the US, they were excited to teach. Working for The Boys and Girls Club had fueled my interest in teaching. Chatting with the International TA's cemented it.

Like so many universities, MSU's study abroad program is one of their pride and joys. Lucky for me, so is their teacher prep program. Because of this, MSU offered several appetizing--no, drool-worthy--teacher trips. Though I was in no position to finance a study abroad program, I visited the university's Study Abroad office regularly just to look at the pictures and read the descriptions, all the time wondering when. There was never an if , just a when.

 My year-long student teaching experience in East Lansing had provided me the opportunity to work with students from six different countries. (I was covered with travel bug bites after that year.) I found myself envious of my first graders' "Places Visited" list. It's time to do something about this. But, first things first. Because a college diploma can't be traded in for a paycheck, I resolved to getting a job before boarding the plane for the trip around the world I had been planning since high school.

My fours years teaching in the wonderful city of Fenton gave me the confidence to finally fight this travel bug head on. It was the Fenton school district that introduced me to the idea of applying for the Rotary Group Study Exchange to Brazil and they supported me every step of the way. I have scars from the travel bug bites I incurred during our work towards our schools' IB authorization and our awe-inspiring IB World Fairs. Ironically enough, when my real-life Prince Charming came knocking on my door, in human form, and asked me to live this dream I had been dreaming across the ocean with him--I only hesitated long enough to say, "But how can I leave Fenton?"

Seedlings

So, here we are. On the other side of the pond, living, working, and loving every second of it. I recently accepted a teaching position at Seedlings, a brand-new, never-been-opened English early childhood center in Hamburg. The founders are warm, positive, child-loving women wanting to support the education of young kiddos from the very beginning. Last week I found myself at a table with women from Zimbabwe, London, Melbourne, and Hamburg sharing ideas about education. I am terribly thankful for this ultimate humbling multicultural experience. I've finally done it.

It's hard to pinpoint the moment when I stopped feeling like a tourist and Hamburg starting feeling like a home. It started when I stopped carrying my camera with me at all times. (My SIM card has since thanked me.) I really became aware of this transformation, though, once I found myself in a school again, talking about the best way to support the students and to ensure their growth. Working within a school, I am the most comfortable. I am at home there. Nothing will replace my love for Tomek in Fenton, but having the chance to work with these new students will certainly help with the homesickness.