Many of you know the musical Wicked and its emotional core song, “For
Good.” There is a line that is more profound than you usually find in big
splashy musical numbers. It says, "And now, no matter how our stories
end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend."
If I have learned anything from the writing process, it is the importance
of the REWRITING process. What comes out initially is in a raw form.
While it is important, it would be really bad if it stayed that way. It must
be expanded in some places, reduced in others, and refined for clarity
before it can be put out into the world to contribute something.
And the way it is being used metaphorically in the musical is true as
well. We come into the world in a raw form, and if it stayed that way, it
would be terrible. We need experiences and people who will expand us
in some places, reduce us in others, and refine us so that we can go out
into the world to contribute something.
That’s what I’m looking at in this room. You are all editors. You are the people God has used to develop my character and guide my story.
Obviously, this starts with my parents - not only providers of the raw
material but the first to edit it. I grew up in a house where learning was
valued, school was prioritized, shelves were for books, and, to the
extent that they could be, my questions were answered. (I didn’t make
that easy on them - I asked A LOT of questions.) This all resulted in a
person who loved learning and wanted to make other people love it too.
So that's what I did for 25 years. Whatever else the curriculum was, the
covert curriculum was “Learning is enjoyable, and you should do it your
whole life.”
So, I know it was a surprise to get an email from me that said, "I'm not
ready to talk about this out loud yet. I'll let you know when I am, but I
think God might be nudging me out of the classroom." It has to be weird
for your middle-aged child to say, “I’m thinking of leaving something
very stable and secure that I’m good at and I love to try something
totally unpredictable, but they have been supportive in a hundred ways -
big and small and in between. I wouldn't be able to speak at the
conferences I do without dad's frequent flyer miles. Mom makes sure I
am never peanut butter deficient. I love you. Thank you.
Speaking of someone whose life I didn’t make easy with all of my
questions - Mr. Sandberg. For those who don't
know, Mr. Sandberg was my physical science teacher when I was 14
years old. I taught a lot of things in my career, but the only thing I taught
for all 25 years was physical science. So, there was never a time when
Mr. Sandberg was not in my classroom. If I taught you or your child,
you have benefitted from Mr. Sandberg’s work.
More personally, I have loved and admired you and felt loved and
supported by you for 36 years. I don’t know how many people can say
that.
When we think of editing, we typically focus on what has to be
removed, but an important part of editing is identifying what is essential
that MUST stay. Mr. Sandberg’s did that for me during my freshman year
in high school. In a casual hallway conversation, he said, “This curiosity
you have is an important part of you. Hang on to it.” That was big for a
14 year old nerd girl.
Mr. Sandberg was also the first person to know that God was changing
my plans. Your response, to send me part of your story, was generous
and helpful, especially during my last few weeks here.
There are so many good reasons that you are the person to whom this
book is dedicated. I love you. Thank you.
So, I spent most of my adult life in this building. It's going to be weird
for me when you are somewhere else. But of course, I know what made
GRACE my home for 21 years wasn't the building or even my
classroom, which I loved. It was the opportunity to work with and for the
best colleagues I could have ever hoped for.
We all edited each other's stories. We laughed together. We cried
together. We prayed together. We supported each other AND challenged
each other. And because of that, we grew together.
I'm not sure if you know this, but now that I am connected with
educators around the country, I have learned that this is not the norm
everywhere. I hear a lot of stories that reflect a lack of trust. I have been
so happy that I could take that for granted here.
This, of course, starts with an administration that sets a tone of
teamwork and an environment in which we are encouraged to try things,
knowing that sometimes those things will go very well and sometimes,
they will make a big mess. I felt safe taking those risks because I knew
that Eric, Mandy, Julia, Kathie, Teresa, would be there to help me clean
up the mess. (Even when I literally broke the building - twice - maybe three times.)
And then, there are my teacher friends - we have seen a lot. I’m not just talking
Covid. We’ve been through some stuff together. When you can look
down the hall and a facial expression or raised eyebrow communicates
everything you need to know, that’s a close relationship. That’s what I
had with so many of you up and down these halls. If I start listing names, I will forget someone, and I don’t want to do that.
But I do have to mention blue pod, all members - present, past,
honorary, and extended. Elizabeth, you know I always considered you to
be part of blue pod even though your room was too far away (and BJay
wouldn't install the worm hole I requested). Blue pod is not simply a
location. It’s a group of people who shared their lives. Sometimes, you
kept me sane. When one of us was weak, the others would come along
and lend their strength. Blue pod remains best pod.
I love the GRACE community. Thank you all.
Just when I thought I understood how the back half of my story was
unfolding, I made what I thought was a medium sized plot change. In
the 18 years I had been yearbook advisor, enrollment had tripled, and I
was tired. When I gave that job to someone else, people asked, "What
are you going to do with your time now that your afternoons won't be
taken up with photographing athletic events, play rehearsals, and club
meetings?” I said, “Well, my Tuesday pants are getting uncomfortable,
so I think I'm going to join a gym."
But here’s the thing. I didn't join a gym; I joined the Y - and that’s
different. If you know me only from the Y, wave your hand. That is why it is
different.
Some of my Finley co-workers are here. I love working in member
engagement because I get to find out what people need from the Y and
help connect them to it. I still get to laugh at work. Absurd things
happen in the lobby, and it is great to look over at the next desk and
acknowledge it and laugh.
Some of my classmates from group fitness are here. If you worry that
you will join a gym and only to donate money to it, group classes are the
answer. There is something special about working out in a community. I
look forward each week to seeing Michelle, who is a calm and
reassuring presence. And Kameron, who is not calm, but she’s an
enthusiastic presence on my other side. Lisa, it is fun cycling next to
you, especially when I realize that the lyrics I thought a song had for 30
years are not accurate. Did you all know the 38 Special song is “Hold on
Loosely”? For decades, I thought that song was being sung to a girl
named Lucy.
Stephen, when you are in my eye line on Saturday, all is right with the
weekend. You inspire me - not just to lift a heavier weight or do another
rep, but to be joyful and friendly in the process because you always are.
I’m ready to have you back in your spot, Buddy. I have missed you.
And then, there are the people who have turned my world upside
down in the past three and a half years - my instructors. If you want to
see what good teaching looks like outside the academic setting, these
are the people whose classes you want to attend. The first thing I
noticed when I began taking classes was their use the things I talk about
in this book. Their use of modeling and scaffolding, clarity, retrieval
practice, formative assessment, and managing cognitive load are a sight
to behold. Especially when you consider that they aren’t reading books
on cognitive science and pedagogy. They are just naturally gifted.
Liz and Stacey have seen me through from a cyclist so novice that
Stacey had to physically place my foot on the pedals to get the shoes to
clip in - to cycle instructor. Their support has been wonderfully
enthusiastic. I could have included Jay in that, but what stands out
when I think of Jay is how much he prays for me. I’ve lost count of the
number of times he has held both my hands in the cycle studio and
talked to God on my behalf. Julie was the group fitness director when I
started. She helped put my name in front of people when I was
exploring jobs. She hired me to teach cycle and then immediately left for
another branch. But you continue to look out for every opportunity for
me; thank you especially for pulling me into Livestrong as it is one of the
most meaningful things I get to do. Dana couldn’t be here tonight, but I
love her so much I do Barre with her every Tuesday. And I hate Barre,
but I love Dana so much that I like doing Barre with her. She has
become like the sister I never had - even if she is a whole foot shorter
than I am.
Matt, I can’t overstate the influence you have had on who I am the past
three and a half years. You have an amazing ability to accept me as I am
- with whatever I am able to do or not do - while simultaneously
encouraging me to do a little more. That built something in me that
wasn't there before - a drive to challenge myself without the intimidation
of potential failure. This has spread beyond fitness into every area of my
life. It’s the straight line from Studio 1 to the writing of this book. You
have edited my character someone who says, "That sounds terrifying.
When do you need me to be there?" That wasn’t in me before; you did
that. I love you.
I love all of my Y people. Thank you.
Before any of this happened, God was working a different change in
my heart, a slow process of reckoning with the fact that I wasn’t doing
church very well at all. I had grown stale and apathetic where I was. I
wasn’t contributing anything, and I wasn’t receiving anything. I went to
church because I am a person who goes to church.
I knew that was unlikely to change unless I changed it, but the power
of inertia is strong. And I was here, surrounded by Christian community
and accountability, so I told myself I was getting what I needed in a
different way. But I knew it wasn’t right. In December 2022, God started
hinting, “You know you’re going to have to deal with this soon, right?” I
couldn’t leave then because I was half way through a two-year giving
program, and I didn’t want to break my commitment, so I decided I
would get through Christmas 2023 and start looking elsewhere.
By that Christmas, I had informed Eric and Julia that it was my final
year at GRACE. I had talked with Learning and the Brain friends about
what consulting would look like and had begun the writing of this book. I
was exploring jobs at the Y. There was a lot going on.
And I said to God, "Really, now? You just think I don't have enough
change going on right now?" But, of course God knew exactly what I
needed and when I needed it. He knew that when I lost weekly chapel
with Blake, teacher devotions, and Friday prayer meetings that I was
going to need to be excited about church again.
During this time, on one of our walks to and from kickboxing, I told
Meagan, “I hate visiting churches, but I’ll visit as many as I have to. I
don’t want to do this again. I want to find somewhere I can stay forever.”
So the first Sunday in January, I visited a church downtown. That was
not it - by a lot. Then, on our walk to kickboxing that week, Meagan
recommended that I visit Holy Trinity Anglican Church. “I think they
have what you are looking for,” she said. I am so glad she did. I am
excited to go to church again - not just on Sunday morning but on
Saturday night. An email come out mid-week, and I sometimes get
exited by that.
I love so much about Holy Trinity - I love the people who sit near me
on Sunday; I love the liturgy; I love the building, I love the depth and breadth of Paul Harris’ musical knowledge. I love the joy of each member the clergy takes in giving communion.
I especially love this man over here.
His fancy name is Rev. Dr. John W Yates III, rector of Holy Trinity. But that is too stuffy for the delightful man I call my pastor.
John has been kind to me from the beginning. I emailed him after my
first visit to tell him I enjoyed the service and said that I didn’t know
much about Anglican practices or doctrine and asked if he could point
me to a resource. I wasn’t sure if he would reply. He’s a busy church
pastor getting an email from a strange woman. Replying might not be
something he is inclined to do.
I thought that if he replied at all, he would likely send me a link to a
website - which would have been fine. But that’s not what he did. He
mailed me a book - which is basically my love language. He had
written two chapters in this book and was the editor of the series. That
concern for scholarship, both his and mine, was important to me
because I had it for the first 25 years of my live, but I had not had it in a
since. I don’t think I realized how much I had missed it until I was
holding that book in my hands.
We talked the following week, and he recommended another book and
answered some questions. He’s been answering questions, replying to
emails, and recommending books ever since. I didn’t visit any other
churches.
Five weeks later, he expressed an interest in string theory, so I told
him I wanted to return the favor by bringing him a book. When I told him
it was favorite book on string theory, he said, “I think that makes you a
special kind of nerd. I was sold. Anyone who knows after only a few
weeks that I would enjoy being called a nerd is someone who will make
me feel known, valued, and loved. When I told Elizabeth Walters this
story the next day, she said, "Oh, you have clearly found your people."
And she was absolutely right.
John, you're my people, and you have been a gift. I am grateful for your kindness and joy, the
love you show everyone and your patience. I love you and all of Holy
Trinity. Thank you.
I know I’ve talked a long time, but there are three more people I need to
mention. They aren't here tonight because they live far away, but this
story would be incomplete without them.
Kevin Washburn's book The Architecture of Learning was the first
"brain book" I ever read. It was a while ago because I read it after seeing
him present at an ACSI conference in Greensboro. I found him on
Facebook, and we have been friends for 16 years. And we’ve been very
good friends for people who didn’t meet face to face until last summer.
We’ve had a few parallels in our lives recently. After I got my cycle
instructor’s certification, he got his personal trainer’s certification (his
was harder to achieve than mine). He published a book on resilience two
and half years ago, which was good time for me as I read it while I was
making the transition from GRACE to the Y. We’ve just had a lot of
opportunities to support each other, and he has been an amazing
cheerleader.
John Almarode - John is an education professor and author - Some of
you know I have a non-romantic crush on John Almarode. When I first
met him at a Learning and the Brain conference, I tweeted, “I don’t
believe in spirit animals, but if I did, I’d want this man to be mine.” He is
just a bubbling fountain of positive energy.
He was the third person to know about my transition from the
classroom because I emailed him and asked for prayer and advice.
John was also the first person to read any of the words of this book
and provide feedback. When I was being rejected by one publisher after
another, John said, "Let's plan a Zoom call and catch up." For an hour,
he made me laugh, gave me advice, reminded me that things would
happen at the time they were ordained to, and asked if there was
anything else he could do for me.
John Almarode is a good friend to have in your corner.
Last, but certainly not least is Andrew Watson - I first met Andrew
without his name. I asked questions of the Learning and the Brain
Twitter account and got great answers. Near the beginning of lockdown,
I asked a question with an answer too long for Twitter, so he sent me his
email address. We became fast friends and immediately formed a
mutual admiration society.
One of Andrew’s greatest strengths is connecting people. He knows
everyone in this part of the education world. If he sees something in you
and wants to help you develop it, he will connect you with the person
who can help you do that. As such, Andrew has been influential my
getting selected to speak at conferences.
The day after my Zoom call with John, I had a phone call with Andrew.
One of the results of that call was that gave me the contact information
for his first editor, who is now my first editor. So, if it were not for
Andrew, we would not be celebrating today.
I started by quoting from Wicked. I’m going to end by quoting Leslie
Knope. “No one achieves anything alone.”
I may have sat alone behind a computer and typed out the words
myself, but if I had not grown up in the house I did - if I had not had
teachers like Mr. Sandberg - if I had not grown at GRACE and been
changed by the Y - If I had not been encouraged by Holy Trinity and
guided by people in the mind brain education world, I would not have
something to say that is worth putting into print.
“No one achieves anything alone.” What I most want tonight is for you
to know each other a little. After John closes us in prayer, I want you to
meet someone outside of your place in my life.
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