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"Imagine how less lonely the world would be if we knew and believed that we didn't have to figure everything out by ourselves."

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In thinking about these questions, I'm drawn to what I did for my secret spook last week. I didn't have a lot of money to spend but I have a lot of craft stuff at home. I love crafting and I was able to do for someone else to find joy in. It made me really miss all the crafts I use to do and now I feel that I will get back into them. I also think about how I used to play piano and take lessons in middle school but stopped when I got too busy with my dance classes and my piano teacher only wanted me to play what she wanted me to play. But, I have picked it up again and it is slowly coming back to me and I am finding joy in it and I have found that when I find joy in what I am doing and talk about it with others they also find the joy.

I think sometimes we forget about the gifts or joys we have in lives when other things start to take over. This section reminded me that it is okay to take time and do things for you and to get back to what made you happy before.

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I love the telling of the Thanksgiving Address. It mimics the liturgy I grew up reading in church. Giving thanks for the earth, it's inhabitants, and it's gifts. As I read the story of the Thanksgiving Address I imaged a school where this was recited as often as the Pledge. What an awareness the practice would bring to the natural world and our leadership of service to the world instead of an ownership of the world. I imagine a school where this shift could take place. I imagine a world where our gratitude for the earth could guide our policies and our apologies for the harm mankind has committed to the earth.

I love gardening and find tending to my garden as an act of sanity. Digging my hands in the dirt can literally lower my worries and calm my fears. I often enter my garden with stress and leave with hope. I love the colors of fall and spent years creating spaces for mums to bloom. Last year I read that mums are non-pollinating flowers, meaning the bees cannot draw pollen from them. They are annual flowers and bring nothing to the cycle of the season except colorful bounty. I learned that instead of mums, asters are the native, pollinating, bee-loving alternative. So, I scoured the nursery for asters and found three plants on clearance. I planted them and tended to them last fall. All three aster plants are now in full bloom and bringing a beautiful pop of color to the autumn canvas. Also, the bees are still active in the garden as now they have a new plant to feed from. I'm grateful for this opportunity to keep the garden alive as the earth starts to embrace more sleep in the fall and winter. I'd like to think that the bees are grateful for another source of pollen too.

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This reading really made me think about the students I see everyday. The ones who are excited to spend the weekends and breaks in school going out into the woods and hunting. The ones who love spending time outside rain or shine just because they love what nature brings them. Reminds me of growing up and my parents telling me to go outside and play, especially in the snow. I miss those days when I was told to go outside and just be rolling in the grass, making mud pies and taking rides down the hill in my little red wagon. Those were simpler times.

I then think about the students who don't do that and hear them talking about how they just stayed inside and did nothing with their free time but sleep and play on their phones. I think about many of these kids are growing up with phones and forgetting about the connection to everything around us. Do they not go outside and play aside from school? The kids around where I live, I don't really see them outside playing anymore.

This reading and question this week, made me think about how I don't really go out in nature anymore. Even just taking a walk somewhere outside my apartment. That's where I see the loneliness. Not everyone goes out anymore, especially since COVID. I want to go out more and just go for a walk, even if it's not through the woods or on a trail, I want to go out and just look at the trees that are changing color and falling as we leave summer behind and enter fall then winter.

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When I lived in Afghanistan there were two weeks during the spring when strawberries were available. If you missed it, then you missed the strawberry season. When I lived there (2009-2012) the produce only arrived during it's season. Fresh produce wasn't shipped in from other countries for locals to purchase in grocery stores. You had what was picked locally, sold by farmers who had a cart on the market street. I would order "yak kilo" (meaning 1 kilo) and point to the strawberries. And after my first year, I would order "do kilo" (2 kilo) because I felt ambitious enough to make strawberry jam. The strawberries would not last long, and they would not gracefully withstand the iodine wash that we had to follow in preparing produce for consumption. But for those two weeks, I was in strawberry heaven.

As a child, I remember my mom telling me of the season of produce. I love berries and I remember asking for berries in the off season and mom telling me that it wasn't the right time of year for berries. My grandmother was the same. They taught me that food came in seasons and even though the grocery store might have something available right now, that it wouldn't be as good as when it was in season.

Last winter, our local grocery store had strawberries in the dead of winter and I succumbed. I bought them and brought them home ready to taste their sweetness. My mom and grandmother's season wisdom was brought to the forefront when I bit into the strawberry and found white flesh and an earthy taste. No juice, no sweetness. I could have predicted this, but I really WANTED them to be summery delicious. This experience that I have repeated on occasion had confirmed my understanding of the gifts of the season. Strawberries are the gift of the earth as spring turns into summer. I appreciate the mindset of "We could choose to live in a world made of gifts. Thinking of something as a gift changes your relationship with it." Strawberries are a gift of the earth. They are magical and to honor the gift, I do not buy them when they are not in season. I know its a small step of one consumer, but I always think, that if maybe enough consumers will consume less, then the demand will lower and the supply will only come when the earth is ready to give the gift. Our market economy is dreadful and wasteful and our connection with the earth strengthens as we consider the earth's bounty as a gift. I take my collective action by supporting local farmers, buying in season, wasting less, and appreciating more.

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I love the story of the three sisters. If you research companion planting in the garden, it is the most widely known example. Every spring when I plan out the garden, I read more on companion planting. Learning which plants need more nitrogen and which plants use more nitrogen. Learning which plants need heat and shade to thrive. It is amazing to me how planting one vegetable next to another one will increase the yield of both vegetables. It reminds me that even though independence is a key societal concept in many cultures, the dependence on another to thrive is acceptable and natural. Examples of companionship in the garden highlight how humans can also benefit from companionship and friendship.

As a kid, I struggled to make and keep friendships because I was always the new girl in school and then in a couple of years, we would move. I was envious of my peers who had been together in one town from kinder to high school. It was hard to be accepted into their social group, because they had so much history together. Even now, there is a great distinction amongst my colleagues as who was born and raised here, and who moved here to work and live. I think that is why I felt like I belonged most when I was an expat living overseas. All of my colleagues had a home country and were choosing to live and reside in a new country. All of my friends were like me, living away from the conveniences of home to work in a place in the work that needed educators. There was comfort in our shared life stories and experiences of being an expatriate.

I love my job and career and find utter joy in my everyday and I cannot have that experience alone. I need my colleagues to understand all sides of our students. I need my colleagues to teach me how to improve and share their experience with me. I thrive on a team with a collective responsibility for the student's success. On my own, I doubt my impact, get distracted with unimportant details, and get lost in the what ifs. On a team, I feel included in a system of education and a sense of belonging that I matter to my student's day and that I am making a difference in this place. So, I would say I need some help flourishing and I would be honored to offer the same support to anyone around me who is also in need.

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Evening Prayer and Not much of a gardener

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Evening Prayer and Not much of a gardener

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After reading and reflecting on this week, I think about how I am not a good gardener. I struggle with keeping things alive, that’s why my flowers are fake or made from legos. However, both my parents are great at it. My dad waters the outside plants when they need and they are blooming wonderfully and my mom takes care of the plants inside and they are also doing amazing. I guess in see their care for their plants and flowers every time I go over helps me to appreciate their beautiful lends and how no matter how dark it may get there is a beauty at the end.

Something else this made me think about is when I pray before my evening meal. I always thank the hands that made it possible for me to have this food but never the earth herself. After reading, I am going to start thanking the earth for providing all this wonderful things that I get to cook with and make food not just for me but for those I love as well.

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I think collective action is so important at the local level. Through working with the Western Regional Educator Network as part of the Lane ESD and OEA's Teacher Empowerment Academy, I have frequently collaborated with other educators to address systemic issues in our schools. With a focus on equity and staying human-centered, I have learned that process is often more important than product, and that listening to people is one of the most important things we can do to improve systems.

I compare this collaboration and knowledge of interconnectedness to the relationship between trees. We have a lot to learn from forests and how trees communicate.

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When I first moved into my home many of the bushes surrounding the area were dead. The trees were over grown with lichen, the rose bushes looked only like sticks in the ground. Over that first year we took the time to cultivate the plants helping them flourish once more.

I read last fall that you shouldn't rake your leaves because natural decomposers can help them decompose back into the soil. So last year I didn't. This spring my yard was unrecognizable with how much it flourished! Lilys grew everywhere! The rose bushes grew to almost reach our back windows! Our apple tree produced more apples then I knew what to do with!

I guess what I am trying to say is I changed the way I took care of my garden and listened to what the plants needed. And now I know how I want to take care of it next year!

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Sitka Spruce, Lobster Mushrooms & Talking to Plants

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Sitka Spruce, Lobster Mushrooms & Talking to Plants

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We ask so much of this land that we're all living on. We have forgotten (or never been taught) that we're all family. I live outside of town on the side of Cape Mountain, and our home is surrounded by huge, massive, towering Sitka Spruce. I have named most of the Sitka that surround our house (they're apparently all female and are named after the matriarchs on my mother's side of the family). When life feels heavy or work feels like too much, I get home at the end of the day and look forward to my Sitka "hug." If Sitka can live/endure for 220+ years, I can endure encountering unkind folx at work. Mabel (my deceased grandmother / current Sitka grandmother that sits on the horizon line nearest the ocean) always validates me. Lobster mushrooms are currently in bloom, and they LOVE living under the Sitka. My hubby carefully gathers mushrooms and always leaves plenty where he finds them (they regrow in the same spot every year). So - how can we shape our lives in such a way that the land might be grateful for us? I think it begins by treating our plant-friends like family. Do you talk to the plant-folk in your neighborhood? Magic happens when you do :)

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It is the job of all library workers to celebrate and champion equity, diversity and inclusion. I feel my life's work and mission is to serve and uplift others; I will ALWAYS be the one to speak hard truths to protect others within our school systems (even if that means I get beat up in the process). I'm earning my EdD in Education, Professional Practice and Social Justice Leadership to help further our state school library mission of literacy instruction (more certified FTE Teacher Librarians) and literacy resources for all (education is a human right).

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I have found that community service is the best to help our community. Sometimes, it's not joining and helping but also finding your own way that you think the community needs help.

When I was in high school in Bandon, we had to have a certain amount of community service hours in order to graduate. To accomplish this, we had an annual community service day. Basically, each advisory class would think of a service they wanted to do. They could go spend time and play games with those at the senior center, pull weeds around the school, someone's yard or business, clean up the cemeteries, ect. With having so many options, if you didn't want to do what your class come up with, you had options to go else where. Plus, this wasn't just students, all staff at the high school participated in this day. I think this would be a great thing to bring here in Florence. I've talked with a of seniors in past and they struggle with community service hours for college. I did bring this up during a Night Hour last year and one student liked the idea but the others didn't seem to think that spending time in class thinking of a service was the best use of their time. I hope that we can do something like this. It was always so much fun. I remember all the fun I had with painting pumpkins at the senior center, cleaning up the playgrounds around town and even spending time on our own sports fields cleaning the bleachers or help maintenance keep our fields looking nice.

Even now as I sit here over at Siuslaw West, I see a class of students from the middle school walk over and help clean up the path that is between us and them. Warms my heart to see them so active and having fun and maybe not realizing that they are making a difference.

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I have found over the years giving back to my community in the form of community service to help. When I still lived in Eastern Oregon I remember helping with the giving tree through the national honor society. Making sure children in our community were able to get the gifts that they wanted for Christmas. I remember spending hours helping wrap those gifts so they truly thought they were from Santa.

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I found myself drawn to this quote, "Imagine how less lonely the world would be if we knew and believes that we didn't have to figure everything out by ourselves." Reminds me that none of us are on our own. We have people all around us who can help and talk to. I do sometimes forget hat I have people who want to see me be a better me and want to help.

When it comes to stories being medicine, I truly think that is true. Personally, I read a lot of sci-fi and fantasy books. These stories help me to recover from the day to day life of teaching and allow me to enter a world where I can be anything, like the daughter of a Greek God/Goddess or walk through a wardrobe and enter a magical world.

I can't wait to see what stories this book to share with us.

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Paragraph 1:  "We can choose to live in the dark or in the light."  Not even a paragraph in and I come across the theme for this year's class...

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Paragraph 1:  "We can choose to live in the dark or in the light."  Not even a paragraph in and I come across the theme for this year's class...

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My Story. On the last day of school this past year a Social Studies job opened up at the high school, and I primised my daughter I would not work there until she graduated. At that moment I finally had a choice and I felt torn. Like something was left unfinished here at SES. A former student asked to be my TA and that tipped the scale to staying here.

But that is only part of the story. 6 and 7 years ago I looped and taught this year's Junior Class. I had a student on my roster whose brother i taught in that group for two years. Looking at the big picture, I saw an opportunity to go back and tie this class to that and touch upon the same themes cyclically. Even more so though, I had the idea for my mural for the year. When I first started working here the was a bulletin board that was my favorite still to this day, the Cherokee Legend of the Two Wolves. I would constantly stop with my classes in front of it and use it as a teaching tool. The creator of said bulletin board is Rebecca, my better and wiser half. She has not worked here since Parker was born and the Indian Education Program dissolved over disagreements with the district. How can stories be medicine? I saw this as an opportunity to pay homage to her board and through the story infuse some Native Wisdom into our halls again.

But that is just after reading paragraph one, so expect me to be wordy with this it seems.

So far, it is hard for my mind to focus on this book with my ADHD, as through my family I am familiar with many of the topics covered, so my mind kept wandering to who do i know that can do this? How can I do this with my class? How would this look? The more I read, the more I began to think outside of the book. When knowledge is new, I can't get enough. When it is more familiar, my mind wanders to application.

I am sure there will be many new things in this that I will gravitate to, but I also see that in parts of this book, it will be hard to stay in the here and the now. And in a way, given the culture this book is from, that kinda fits...

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How Mindfulness Empowers Us: An Animation Narrated by Sharon Salzberg

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Let food be thy medicine and stories are food for the soul.

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Let food be thy medicine and stories are food for the soul.

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I really loved the responses here and will add mine this weekend!

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The first thing this prompt reminded me of was my connection to stories as a child, learning how to read, and seeking books as escape. I was obsessed with the "Boxcar Children" series when I was little because it was a series of tales about a group of siblings who cared for each other. As an only child, I loved those books because I could pretend I had older or younger siblings to play with.

Stories, especially when they are told from person to person can inform and inspire but also reveal hard truths. From these difficult stories, I think healing is possible, if we are willing to decenter ourselves and listen to them.

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Collective Action so all are flourishing

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Collective Action so all are flourishing

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I think that I was raised to believe we are all here to serve. I really believe in community service and trying to help when I can. I know it sounds cheesy, but if I am having a horrible day helping someone else usually makes me feel better. When I am really down, I hide behind a paintbrush. ..actually I do that a lot. I am awkward in social situations, so face painting at parties or sketching in meetings helps me focus and participate confidently. (It also helps with the ADD and quieting my mind so I can focus on each speaker or person. I know it seems like I am not paying attention in some of those moments, but usually it is how I pay attention the most.

Flourishing to me cannot happen without creativity or time to be creative, so I run programs in the community to help people flourish through art. My business Dragon Art is an educational art business. I don't believe in talent, I think that art is taught and I love to help others discover that they can do it. I started the Elements or Art Studio Tours and asked Jo from Beaux Arts to partner with me, because it would be a way to bring help our local artists and want to be artists get out there. I also run a Narrative Art show and Competition in June and encourage everyone to tell a story through pictures and participate. I find that people are more productive in all areas of their life when they take time to be creative.

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The oral tradition is embedded in our human psyche. Stories are medicine, as they connect speakers and listeners through a shared celebration of past and present. My favorite memories with the elders in my family are the times we shared storytelling. My grandfather was blind, and as a young girl, we would sit on the porch together at the farm and watch clouds. I would describe their shapes, and he would help me learn names to identify them. These cloud watching sessions always included stories about family, weather, animals, and farming the land. Grandpa was a musician, and he would also write songs from the stories he told. These stories will live with me forever.

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After this and reflecting on my job as a teacher. I think about the students that sometimes get left behind or unnoticed or those who just don’t take school seriously. Those are the kids that I look at knowing that they are smart and can get through school, even when challenges happen. Those are kids I see who need help flourishing.

Maybe they don’t have the support at home or maybe they really don’t care. I want to help by giving that support at school and showing that I care. I’ll try to keep helping them even when they try to push me away or not take any help. But maybe the thought that someone cares enough to make sure they pass, to make sure they graduate and help them to go off on their next journey is all they need. I may feel some days I’m not helping or it just gets too much but thinking about how plants need gardeners and sun light to help them grow, students need teachers and support around them to help them grow.

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Stories can be medicine because they can heal our connection with the earth or each other.

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I am often ADD in my answers to discussions, as my mind will go into a loop about the smallest thing I have read- and off onto topics that are not the focus of the chapters. You can stop reading if you want.

There is a definition in this chapter for Cultural Appropriation: pg. 13 the disrespectful and unacknowledged adoption of a part of culture of identity by members of another culture of identity.

This definition bothers me. We adapt we change, we learn from those we are forced among. I get that we shouldn't take from a culture we have no ties to, but some of us are watered down versions of our culture, and we have been transplanted into other cultures. We shouldn't be disrespectful but we may be unacknowledged in our adoption of parts of culture. We still hold in our hearts our ancestor's pasts even if we didn't walk it ourselves, and we have parts of our new culture thrust upon us. We adapt and adopt from both.

My very being is cultural appropriation for I no longer really belong to any culture. How do we know we belong to a culture.? How much of that culture needs to mark us, to get to own it as our own? I am not numbered or marked in any visible way. If I write about being white-I spit on my ancestors who walked and survived the Trail of Tears. (The Trail of Death mentioned in the book was the Potawatomi tribe primarily from Indiana to Kansas, the Trail of Tears is a broader term encompassing multiple tribes and often specifically refers to the Cherokee people). If I write about being native- I am not numbered for my forefathers are not one of the acknowledged "five", (Maybe they didn't communicate well enough to understand or sit at the "table" and sign paperwork. We were not "in the room where it happened". So, therefore are not acknowledged. Though I can prove the linage. ) and I was raised among the enemy. I have no rights to either group. The pigment of my distant Congo legacy is bleached our of my skin. my native ancestors skin looked like mine, and my Southern, Irish, and Swedish accents have alluded my tongue (probably educated out of my great grandparents tongues and all the descendants for generations. . I know it isn't like "Taming the Shrew" or a scene from "My Fair Lady" but most of my family has had elocution training of some sort and have had to practice enunciating our vowels and such. When did that start? How far back? Why can my mother pick up the phone and talk to a friend adopting the southern drawl from her childhood instantly. We moved so often I can pick up any number of accents. )

Which box should I check when filling out forms? I have heard the words, "Passing" for looking like another culture. It is a negative term, but it may be me and there is no box for it. I am an imposter, poser, "other". I have no claim to any one people or group and no-one group wants to claim me.

It is interesting that groups can accomplish great things with their number and by being larger, but the U.S. has created a system where some groups do not want to claim everyone.

So much of the few chapters of this book are things I have heard and know to be true, it is really interesting to read the origins and other parts of the stories or slightly different versions. (Like the telephone game things change when retold.) The giving of homemade gifts is strong in my family. And we often give away the "firsts" of a new project. If we don't give away the "First" we may never make another. We give thanks, differently and we leave places better than we found them.