Teaching Ms. 'Bo

Teacher gifts and the magical Kindergarten experience

2009-12-26T12:18:00.000-08:00

I find myself in an interesting role as a Kindergarten teacher. I am part mother and caretaker to 23 little people and part commander of a hoard of children that will do whatever I instruct them to. So just like Spiderman, with great power comes great responsibility: I nurture and care for them, and they believe everything I say to be the absolute truth. Sometimes I do a good job with my role, and others times I wonder if parents should really leave their children with me for 10 hours a day. Here is are glimpses of both the mother-ish side of my job, and the power-wielding side.

Mother Skattebo-
When you open up the average purse of a 24-year-old, the contents would be fairly similar: lip gloss, lotion, wallet, phone, etc.
The contents of my purse are that of a 40-year-old mother. This didn't really hit me until I was at my church small group with all "non-teachers." I reached into my bag to grab a pen, and instead grabbed a bag with 2 big, unwashed carrots. This had been a teacher gift from one of my sweet little boys that barely speaks English. He had handed the carrots to me that morning without any explanation. Apparently most people don't carry carrots in their purses because I had a lot of explaining to do at my small group. The current contents of my purse are a toy car, a Crayola marker, a strawberry shortcake rubber stamp, a couple crayons, some cutouts and drawings from my students, and some buttons- mostly confiscated items that have yet to be returned...
I also have been know to show up at gatherings with paperclips in my hair, paint on my pants, yarn around my waist instead of a belt (maybe that's just a Katie thing and not a mother thing...), home-made pins on my shirt, and teachery necklaces and other festive garb on. The worst was when I jokingly wore an ugly Thanksgiving sweater to work and everyone just complimented it instead of realizing it was a joke. My reality has become something I would otherwise poke fun of! Yikes!

All-Knowing and Powerful Skattebo-
Right before Christmas break, we took the Kindergartners to the Children's Museum of Houston. When we got back to school, my kids were quietly journaling at their seats when the power went out. A unified gasp rose up as my kids all looked to me for the reason behind the loss of light. "It's OK guys, the power just went out," I said trying to minimize the event.
"Well, can you try to make it come back on?" they asked.
It may have been the lack of sleep that week or just a general weirdness that comes with hanging around 5-year-olds all day that caused me to do the following, but for some reason, I decided to have a little fun with the request.
I threw my arms up in the air towards the lights and yelled, "Lights! Please come back on!!" and then proceeded to make a high pitched turkey-like noise as I wiggled my fingers. As soon as I stopped my performance, the lights in our classroom literally faded back on! I was just as surprised by this coincidence as my students were. "You're magic!!!" they all squealed with delight.
"Yeah, now sit down or I'll make you disappear!" (Like I said, some times I use my position better than at other times...) They happily got back to work, now thinking that their Kindergarten teacher not only knows everything but has magical powers too. Who am I to tell them otherwise?!?

Spirituality in the Kindergarten classroom

2009-10-09T20:13:00.000-07:00

I've had some funny cases of spirituality through the eyes of five-year-olds come up in my classroom over the past few days...

Case #1:
We had just gotten to school and were reading books outside our classroom, when I noticed Matt standing with his hands in praying position, head stoically facing the ceiling, and eyes clenched shut.

"Matt, what are you doing?" I asked.
"I'm groving." He answered with a tone of frustration as if what he was doing should be very obvious.
"What's groving?"
"It's like praying."
"Do you mean groveling Matt?"
"Yep"
"Where did you learn about that?"
"At my mom's church."

Case #2:
Erin had just finished writing "mom" in her journal. She was very proud of her accomplishment, so she called me over to explain how she knew the answer. A lot of my kids explain their reasoning by saying, "my brain told me," but Erin's response was a little different.
"Do you want to know how I knew how to spell it? God told me" she said with a smile. Then laughing and shaking her head added, "I can hear him even from far away!"

Case #3:
Natalie was just finishing up her math problem of the day and was waiting for me to dictate her answer. "Chris had 3 apples and Matt had 4, how many apples did they have all together?"
"9"... (we're working on it)
"How did you figure that out Natalie?" I asked with the pencil in my hand, ready to transcribe her answer.
"Jesus told me. He said, 'you can do it,' and I did it!"
Maybe that's what they mean when they say to have faith like a child.

Funny Stories from the week

2009-09-26T13:19:00.000-07:00

I have neglected to post these more often, but I thought I would share the funny things that my kids say with you. They're logic is so transparent, I love it!

1. I was walking a second grader to his car after school and he said, "Ms. Skattebo, is it true that boys aren't mammals?"

"What do mean, Daniel?"

"Well, they don't have babies, so how can they be mammals?"

2. Kristin walked into class on a very stormy morning and while putting her backpack away, turned to me and said, "It's raining cats and dogs out there! I'm going to get myself a little dog today!"

3. My reminder system for the kids and their noise levels is a card with "sunny" on it for keeping their voices quiet, a "partly cloudy" card for a warning, and a "cloudy" card that means we have to work silently.
Matthew came in the classroom on a very overcast day and said, "Ms. Skattebo, it's cloudy outside... does that mean we are being too noisy?"
"No Matthew, maybe it's just a reminder that we need to be super quiet since people are still sleeping." That explanation was enough to satisfy him I guess.

4. One of my little boys was telling me about a spider that he found in his house and how he let it outside to eat some ants. He kept referring to it as the "itsy bitsy spider." This is how the conversation went between him and another little boy:
"So I took the itsy bitsy spider outside so he could eat some ants."
-"Did he climb up the water spout?"
-"No. We don't have a water spout...."

5. I was walking one of my students from last year to their car with my hand holding hers as I talked to another teacher briefly. While I was turned away talking to someone else, I felt her hand brush my underarm slightly as she chuckled. I turned to her with a confused look and she said, "Your just like my momma."
"Excuse me?" I said.
"She's got a little bit of jiggly too."
-Leave it to kids to either boost your self-esteem sky high or bring it down to nothing. She's also the student who last year asked me if I could run. I asked her why she asked and she said, "Well you're kind of big... and old." Wow.

Those are just the ones I can remember. There are so many times when I wish I could stop kids mid-sentence and write down the funny things they say. Hope those made you smile.

And so it begins

2009-08-21T16:29:00.000-07:00

I am sitting on my couch after my first week, of my second year, and I am completely exhausted but full of stories already. The difference between this year and last year is that I have perspective now. I'm just as tired and worn-out, but I don't feel stressed out anymore. I can look at them now when they are crying, or having accidents in my classroom, and say to myself "you aren't going to be like this all year," and I instantly feel better. We have a lot of things to improve, but now I know that it is possible, whereas last year I was sitting in the dark of my classroom around this point, sobbing and questioning whether or not I was capable of rational thought. So you can only go up from there, right? So despite the craziness of this week too, I feel better about where we are going and I know we're going to have a good year.
I feel like all I'm ever capable of is little snapshots of this experience, but maybe that's easier to read... so here's a look at week 1:

Monday: I began my day by trying to comfort a wailing child that was crying and screaming as if her mother had just told her she was leaving forever. I held her as she coughed, spit and sobbed in my face and the rest of the class's parents looked on, trying to decide whether or not they should leave their children in such a place that causes children to wail uncontrollably. While I'm holding this little one and trying to prepare myself for the throw-up that could potentially be brought on by the extreme tears, Janelle thinks it would be a good time to point out to me that she got new shoes for school. I try to calmly tell her that this isn't a good time, but it's always a good time in the mind of a 5-year-old if they have something to say- so my prompting doesn't last very long.

Tuesday: I get a new student that was originally and accidentally put in Pre-K at the beginning, who doesn't realize (even after constant reminders) that my name is indeed not Ms. Skittles, but Ms. Skattebo. Every time she says it, one of my more... we'll say, assertive... girls frustratedly corrects her "that's not her name!" Other word mistakes in our class include saying "President" instead of "present" while taking role, which leads to a discussion about Barack Obama opening presents. We're also working on saying "Tissues" instead of "Tennis shoes." Ex. "Teacher, I need a Tennis shoe!"

Wednesday: I never thought I would use this as a bribe, but to help out a little friend of mine that really likes Michael Jackson and dancing, these words came out of my mouth- "Tyree, if you get yellow today I'll do a Michael Jackson dance for you." Sure enough, at the end of the day, I moon-walked through my classroom to reward a child.... I don't know if I'd actually list that as a good classroom management tool, it mostly just resulted in Tyree doing the moon-walk in line the following day.

Thursday: We came up with table names and the kids had to collaborate with the people at their table to decide what their table name should be. I used something with the word "butterfly" in it as an example and this was the result. The 2009 Baylor Bear tables are named:
1. The Roller Coaster Butterflies
2. The Rhinoceros Butterflies
3. The Rainbow Batty Butterflies
4. The Lion Fishclown Family Frogs
5. (my favorite) The Batman, Spiderman, Butterpuppies (complete with the table mascot of a dog with butterfly wings)

Friday: We made it through the day fairly successfully and were leaving for a nice relaxing weekend. I had one student throwing a fit on the way down the hallway because he didn't end on yellow (the color that means we followed our social skills) and I was trying to call him down as we went outside for dismissal. Right when we were in the middle of the hallway, the fire alarm starts blaring and my little fit-throwing friend stops crying and starts screaming. I shuffle my entourage out of the building and we sit in the grass in 100 degree heat plus humidity and wait for instructions (which is hard to do on a Friday afternoon.). The whole "following instructions" thing is made even more unrealistic with the arrival of firetrucks and cockroaches crawling through the grass. What a perfect ending to the week.

So as you can see it has already been an eventful start with more adventures on the way. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers and I'll try to update you soon.

Sincerely,
Ms. Skittles

2009-05-23T20:20:00.000-07:00

One Year.
It’s not that there isn’t anything to say
It’s not that it’s all too sad to share
It’s not that I haven’t laughed and had joy
It’s not that I haven’t learned anything worth repeating.
It's that I don’t know how to share it yet, so I haven’t tried very often.

Here’s the story of a little girl in my class that captures my first year of teaching fairly well.

Jackie came into my class in August with long straight hair, rotting teeth, and a faint smile. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes, wouldn’t talk, and answered “I don’t know” to every simple question asked of her. She knew 4 numbers and probably only half of the letters in the alphabet. I was at a loss when it came to teaching Jackie.

There are 9 kids in her family. They were staying in a hotel for a few weeks after the hurricane, living off of crackers and peanut butter while their dad was in jail. Despite what was going on at home, Jackie would come to class and quietly soak in the lessons of the day. Each night she went home and slept on a moldy mattress on the floor only to wake up and do it all over again.

Day after day, I would try to talk with her; try to encourage her about the things that she did know. She would shut down the minute she felt like she didn’t understand something. So needless to say, Jackie spent most of her day silently staring at the carpet.

After some time, Jackie started smiling. We would celebrate the little victories of a new letter or number and watched as each day, Jackie continued to grow. As her teacher, I wish I could say that it was always easy to teach Jackie and her classmates, but each day brought a new set of challenges. How was I supposed to focus on educating this child when so much of her home life was falling apart? How was she supposed to learn with so many odds stacked against her? I was often disheartened with the scarcity of progress we were making and felt defeated, tired, and broken.

I don’t know exactly when in the year things started to change, but suddenly something started to click within Jackie. We were sitting in the hall, reviewing numbers, and Jackie counted to 100 without effort! I almost cried as I looked down at her smiling face. “Jackie, do you know why Ms. Skattebo is so happy?” I asked with an uncontainable smile. “Because my brain is getting big?” She replied very ‘matter-of-factly.’ But that was only the beginning for Jackie.

Now we are getting ready to move the class up to First grade, and Jackie has mastered 95% of our math objectives for the students, is reading on grade level, can write a full sentence in her journal, has read her journal to her classmates, raises her hand in class, and smiles more than any other student. Jackie is a new, confident young lady who refuses to let anything stand in her way.

When I think about Jackie and the other 23 amazing students in my class, I get choked up. I have never been so proud in my entire life (I have never been so tired either). They have given me more sleepless nights, more illnesses, more headaches and gray hairs than anything I’ve ever done. They’ve also made me a better teacher and person. There were points in this year when I didn’t think I could make it; there were a lot of points where I felt like my students would be better off with another kindergarten teacher. But we are all walking away having learned something and having ‘made our brains bigger.’
I’m a week away from completing my first year of teaching. I’m tired, sick, and completely worn out, but I’m happy. I didn’t know if I would be able to say that, but I’m thankful I can. I’m going to be teaching kindergarten again next year and they have asked me to be the Kindergarten Chair, which will be exciting. The thought of starting next year with a healthy perspective of what teaching is brings a renewed peace that I haven’t felt in awhile. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers along the way; the support from friends and family is a huge reason I’m not in fulltime therapy at the moment. I have a week off and then I start teaching summer school for the month of June. We'll see what adventures summer school with the new kindergarteners bring.... until, thanks again.

The Thought of Something Else by Wendell Berry

2009-04-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

“A spring wind blowing
the smell of the ground
the mind turns, seeks a new
nativity—another place,
simpler, less weighted
by what has already been.

Another place!
it’s enough to grieve me—
that old dream of going,
of becoming a better man
just by getting up and going
to a better place.

The mystery. The old
unaccountable unfolding.
The iron trees in the park
suddenly remember forests.
It become possible to think of going

--a place where thought
can take its shape
as quietly in the mind
as water in a pitcher,
or a man can be
safely without thought
--see the day begin
and lean back,
a simple wakefulness filling perfectly
the spaces among the leaves.”

Sometimes the words of others do more justice than my own.

Despiration Breeds Creativity

2009-03-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

I had two moments so far in teaching where I felt like I was about to lose my mind (minor cases of this feeling occur quite often, but these two occasions stick out as major instances). Both involved too many little voices at one time, and both led to the two simple inventions in my classroom that have saved my sanity and created some comical moments.

Precipice of insanity #1: Towards the beginning of the year, I would try to meet with a small group of children while the rest of my students were cycling through center activities at various tables. The center activities are (in theory) fairly self-directed, partner activities. I would set up all the centers, see that everyone got the basic idea, and then go and start my small group. Well, in a perfect classroom I could rotate through all of my small groups and get a more intimate interaction with every child in my room.... but within seconds of sitting down with a group, I was swarmed by little bodies with one hundred different questions, comments, work displays, or tattles that they could not wait to share. I could not get the point across to them that they were not supposed to come up to the teacher during center time! The constant redirecting was about to push me over the edge one day in particular. I stood up, maneuvering through the sea of five-year-olds calling my name, and marched over to my closet-o'-junk, yanking out a long piece of bulletin board boarder. I stapled it into a large ring and placed it on my head as I called the children to attention (which, thankfully, is one rule they do follow fairly painlessly). "THIS" I said pointing a rigid finger at my orange crown, "Is the 'you can't come up to the teacher crown'. If this is on my head, I am off duty from answering your questions. You need to figure it out, ask someone else, or wait until I take it off." They sat their half quizzically and half mesmerized by the fact that their teacher was wearing a crown. The amazing part was, it worked! Kids would start to wander over to me, notice the crown, and stop dead in their tracks as they turned around to go figure it out for themselves! We've weaned ourselves off of the crown for the most part, but occasionally when I have to remind a student not to come up to the teacher, one of the kids will chime in, "Ms. Skattebo, you need your crown!" and go running across the room to find it. I have to admit, I have abused the crown once or twice during nap time when I was tired of kids coming up to me for an excuse not to sleep.... but again, anything for sanity.

Precipice of insanity #2: We've had an issue with tattling lately. It has gotten out of control. They tattle if someone looks at them funny, if someone accidentally bumps them, if someone says they won't let them come to their birthday party, and the most irritating of all: they tattle on someone who is about to tattle on them.... "Um, Ms. Skattebo, Alejandro is about to tattle on me for saying butt, but I didn't say it..." WHAT?! One can only tolerate so many of these events in a day and I was maxed out by 8:00 am this past Wednesday. I couldn't handle another child's tattle, so I made all the kids go sit on the carpet as I grabbed a manila folder from the shelf and frantically wrote something on the front of it and drew a picture inside. "THIS" I said pointing even more vigorously than when presenting the crown, "is a tattle folder. It's only job is to listen to your tattles. It won't talk, it just listens. So all you have to do is walk over here and whisper your tattle into the ears (which were drawn on the inside) and then close it."

You may be thinking this ridiculous and desperate attempt at control would never be successful, but my tattle counseling has been cut down to half of what I was dealing with before. Plus, it's hilarious to watch. The kids will glare at each other over a snatched marker or crayon, and then stomp over to the tattle folder and whisper their complaint into its binding before returning to their seat feeling completely satisfied. We've had to set hours of operation for the tattle folder because the high traffic to the folder was getting a little out of control. Now they have to wait until centers and still aren't allowed to tell me their tattles, so they end up forgetting about them and move on.

Until you have been surrounded by 24 little people for 10 hours a day, I don't know if you can really understand the need for such borderline-pathetic measures for control but believe me, they are necessary. I'll try to write about the "Nap Master" that we now have to solve the problem of kids getting out of their chairs during nap time---another desperate moment that has turned into a sanity saving tool.....

Yes You Can

2009-01-26T11:51:00.000-08:00

“Now when I say ‘I have a dream,’ I’m not talking about what you dreamt about in your sleep last night or dreaming about a new bike… I’m talking about your dreams for your future- what you want to be and do with your life.”

Can that charge be internalized by five-year-olds?

“I’ll give you an example by sharing what my dream is for all of you.” I drew a ‘thought bubble’ on the white board and wrote, Ms. Skattebo’s dream underneath it. “I have a dream that you will all have the opportunity to go to college.”
I got as far as, I have a dream… when one of my girls chimes in, “that we’ll make it happen!”

“Yes. That’s it. That all of my students will make it happen and be good people that change the world.”

Can five-year-olds internalize that charge? Yes they can.

These were some of my student’s responses to the prompt “I have a dream, my dream is…. I can make my dream happen by….”

“I will be a daddy. I will be nice to people.”

“I will be a doctor that takes the babies out. I will go to college.”

“I will be a cowgirl and teach people how to ride horses”

“I will be a mommy and take care of my babies”

“I will be princess of the whole world. I will help the poor people.” (future Miss America right there)

“I will be a police man. I will put the bad people away.

“I will be soldier.”

“I will be a teacher. I will go to college.”

“I will be a world changer.” (his picture was him speaking at a podium with a microphone).

It was an honor to talk to my students about Martin Luther King Jr.’s legacy just days before we watched our first African American president get sworn into office. To empower them with dreams and possibilities for their future as we watched history being made was inspiring. They are at an age when they won’t let anything get in the way of their dreaming- we need to fight to make sure that they have the ability to dream big throughout their life. As we watched the inauguration in our cafeteria, I wanted to grab each of my children and say, “Yes you can! You can be a teacher, a doctor, a cowgirl, a soldier, a world changer! Remember this moment!” This election is a symbol of hope for my babies; whether or not they realize it now. My prayer is that the world will continue to provide them with hope and opportunity, that they will remember their dreams from Kindergarten and hold onto their right to those dreams forever. Let’s celebrate change and help them “make it happen.”

Christmas Break Perspective

2008-12-24T10:21:00.000-08:00

I've made it through my first six months of teaching! At points I thought it wasn't possible, but now I am able to take a step back at Christmas, with some rested perspective, and look at what this experience has shown me so far.

Truths and lessons learned:

A.) Kids are dirty and have turned me into a germaphobe.
- Thank God they are cute and fairly well behaved; otherwise I don't know how I would have dealt with their epidemics of lice, pink eye, chicken pox, flu cases, ringworm, etc. There was a point at the end of the semester where I no longer had a carpet in my room because of the lice outbreak, my room constantly smelled of Lysol (thanks to my paranoia), half my class was absent, and teachers were scared to enter the room for fear of getting contaminated. I made it out with one round of ring worm, and a sick day with pink eye. One night as my room mate checked my head for lice, she informed me that while I had escaped having little tiny bugs in my hair, she did find a gray hair on the back of my head....I need to start naming them...

B.) Never set a plate of cookies and tubs of icing and sprinkles in front of five-year-olds and expect things to end well.
-My last day of teaching this semester ended with me cleaning up throw up consisting of blue koolaid and icing while trying to keep the other children from dropping their plate of cookies on the floor or from sticking spoons full of icing in their mouth and then redepositing the spoon into the communal container in the center of the table. All you need to know is that I was at school for two hours after they left cleaning up...

C.) We have become a family.
-Whether or not this family is functional or dysfunctional depends on the day, but we are running on routine now and things are going a lot smoother. The kids know what is expected of them in my classroom and I know what is expected of me as a teacher. We laugh together, they are honest with me and I am honest with them, they obey the rules of our classroom (for the most part) and we are all walking through this new experience together. We ARE the Baylor Bears. It's a great feeling.

D.) Little moments where something I've taught finally clicks with a child make every vomit cleanup, hour of lost sleep, and tear shed, worth it.
-My kids journal almost everyday to help instill the concept that what I say I can write, what I write can have meaning, and what I draw can show what I'm writing about. Sounds pretty basic but it's a foundational concept that will help them start reading. One student in particular would get quite discouraged during journal writing, and frankly, I was discouraged too. We would spend a large part of journal time sitting together as he dictated to me what the scribbles on his page represented. He wasn't writing any letters or drawing a picture of what he was telling me, or even talking about what I had asked him to write about. My patience would dwindled and his energy would fade as he repeatedly came up to ask for help day after day.
A couple of weeks ago during journal writing, I had asked the kids to write about something that was impossible. Kids were writing about everything from riding giant cockroaches to walking on the ceiling. As usual, this particular student approached me with the same discouraged look on his face as he asked for help with his writing. I'm sure he was greeted with the same tired look that was getting harder and harder to hide from him. I finished up what I was working on with some other students and made my way over to his seat, prepared to spend the next several minutes transcribing for my little friend. He handed me his journal and what I saw shocked me. There was a clear picture of a figure, with four giant ice cream cones next to it. Underneath the picture were the letters I H F I C K N D G D E M. I was about to celebrate the little victory of him actually putting letters on his page, but decided to ask him to tell me about his writing before I celebrated. He quietly and carefully said, "I have four ice cream cones 'n dey goin' do eat me." Every letter represented the start of the words in his sentence, the picture showed what he was writing about, and he was writing about what I had asked them to- the impossibility of four ice cream cones trying to eat him! The joy and pride I felt in my heart for this little boy was incomparable to anything I've ever felt before. The pride showed on his face too as I expressed my excitement for what he had done and showed his work to the principal and his teacher from last year.

Those are the times when I remember why I'm a teacher.

I make mistakes daily and could write pages of things NOT to do in your first semester of teaching. Thankfully, we're all figuring things out and it's good. There are a million stories from this semester that I could share and have neglected to post on this blog. I often feel like words can't really express what this experience has been, but I hope this helps give a small window into our classroom.

Thank you for the support and prayers from loved ones that I have received throughout this experience, you are the reason I'm still smiling. :)

Hope

2008-11-07T19:30:00.000-08:00

I have friends on both sides of the political fence. I have loved ones who are discouraged by the fact that Obama is the President-elect, and I have other friends and family that are overjoyed by the anticipated change in the White House. I'm not going to get into all of that or try to change political preferences, but I will bring forth something that I hope we can all champion as we look at Barack Obama as our up and coming leader.

On Wednesday morning, my 23 five-year-olds huddled around my laptop as we all sat in silence and watched Obama's acceptance speech from the night before. I told them that every time he mentioned "our children" he was talking about them. Their eyes lit up when he talked about their future and smiles spread across their faces. “Can we watch it again?” One of them asked.

I had to teach my kids the definition of the word "history" because I had to explain to them that they were part of a history making moment- the first African American president. To a room full of underprivileged African American and Latino five-year-olds who hear everyday that they can achieve, and who sing songs about graduating from college, seeing a Black man elected as President is a symbol of limitless possibility. One of my kids wrote in his journal that day, “If I was president, I would take care of the United States of America,” (spelled quite differently as you can imagine…)

This election means more than a new party in office or a new style of leadership. I hope that even if you don’t agree with his views on hot topics, you can agree with the fact that for my babies and the young African American population in our country, Obama can represent the promise of possibility- you can achieve if you work hard.

On a lighter note:
My election day looked different than most peoples. The vote in the Baylor Bear classroom was between Popcorn, Pretzels, or Chips. Each child cast their vote and placed their ballot in a special closed box. Later we tallied the votes only to find that chips and popcorn were tied! What would we do? We couldn’t have two snacks on Friday! But wait…One student was absent. We quickly called the sick student to cast his absentee ballot- his choice? Pretzels. Blast, the tie breaker didn’t work!
My kids sat on the carpet, perplexed by the problem in front of them. As they took turns marching up to our data display, they offered their suggestions. “Maybe we could have special snack on two different days with chips one day and popcorn the next?” “Maybe we can make the pretzel people vote for popcorn?”
The final solution was to call in our final voter- the principal. I put her on speaker phone and read her the options. After going back and forth for a second, she settled on popcorn and the class went crazy.
We celebrated our rights to vote with popcorn today. Even the kids who didn’t get their snack picked were reminded that the important thing is that our voice is heard, not that it always wins. (We’ll find out if they internalized that lesson later…)

2008-11-01T11:46:00.000-07:00

My sister sent me a package in the mail this week. As soon as I opened it, I smelled something that made my heart ache. Leaves. Anna was thoughtful enough to send me an envelope of pressed aspen leaves that still had their fall sent. I keep waiting for the vibrant reds, yellows and greens of Washington and Colorado autumns, but have yet to see evidence of the season. While I am grateful that we are starting to have the occassional hoody and flip-flop wearing weather (can't beat that!), the colors and smells are missing from my fall. So I'll hold tight to my leaves, sniff them when I need a fix, and seek out the beauty of the changing seasons in Texas- like the fact that it will be nice enough to play outside through January!

Fall, if I ever took you for granted, I'm sorry.

Just what the teacher ordered

2008-10-29T18:52:00.000-07:00

I was lucky enough to escape from the city over the weekend and spend some well needed time with friends in the outdoors. We camped, we ate marshmallows, and we kayaked. I thought I didn't have my camera with me for the majority of the time, but here are some shots of the fun on the water that I did get.

2008-10-14T20:43:00.000-07:00

If there is one thing about teaching that is predictable, it is that it will be chaotic. This week was incredibly so.
It started with the not so pleasant realization that I had been given the gift of ringworm from one of the kids at my school . I've since had to field and redirect the questions and stares that my band aid covered arm has attracted.
One example:
Guitar shop employee: "I see you have a band aid,"

Me: "Yeah, I'm a Kindergarten teacher..." (hoping that would be enough of an explanation)
10 minutes later:
Guitar guy: "So really, what is the band aid for?"

Me: "Really, you don't want to know; it's gross."

Guitar guy's rebuttal: "I work at a guitar shop." As if that was supposed to assure me that he could handle the reality that I have a contagious fungus on my arm (sorry readers, I know it's nasty)!

Me: "I got ringworm."

Guitar guys: silence (exactly)

So ringworm brought in the new week and is still lingering on my arm. Tuesday morning the power went out for the first hour of the day while there was a huge rainstorm happening outside. As a result, I spent the morning holding flashlights over bathroom stalls and trying to think of group activities to keep the kids near the light of our classroom window.

Wednesday I locked my keys and all of my materials for the day in my car. Luckily I had my cell phone and my coffee (the essential) and was able to call a locksmith and resolve the situation rather quickly.

Thursday a kid flooded my home center in pee.

Friday I almost got puked on at recess after one of my kids took one too many spins on the tire swing.

Friday night I fell asleep at Borders while reading a book before 9:00... if the reason isn't obvious to you, come visit for a week and you'll find out.

Just another predictably chaotic week with the Baylor Bears

Vive

2008-10-05T09:12:00.000-07:00

I was covered it dust, sweat, and the stench of my fellow music lovers' cigarette (and choice herbs) smoke, and I hadn't been happier since arriving in Texas.

Last weekend was not restful by any means, but it was restorative and comforting. Katie got a chance to play and leave Ms. Skattebo in Houston as she traveled to Austin for Austin City Limits- a 3 day weekend of amazing music, good food and camping.

Restoration came in the form of up-close and personal concerts with the following:
Patty Griffin
Mates of State
Ryan Bingham
The Swell Season
Manu Chao
Fleet Foxes
Jose Gonzalez
Erykah Badu
Mason Jennings
Iron & Wine
Alison Krauss and Robert Plant
Beck
Bela Fleck
Gillian Welch
Xavier Rudd
Neko Case

I was thankful for the escape but I am trying to find ways to keep that piece of me alive during day to day life in Houston. I don't have a remedy for that yet, but for now I can live off of the energy my weekend in Austin gave me. Thank God for music and good company.

and then there was a hurricane

2008-09-25T19:43:00.000-07:00

The hurricane is over but its presence is far from removed here in Houston.

I'm sitting here trying to think of what to tell or write about the experience and I'm at a loss. We were all effected by Ike here; some worse than others. Some of my friends and students still don't have power. My school has been running on a generator for the past 3 days. My students' breakfast conversations have changed from talking about Iron Man to asking each other if they have lights and water at their houses yet. They are more tired and more hungry than usual. I'm thankful that after a week and two days without school we can at least get that piece of their lives on stable ground. Keep Houston and the surrounding areas in your thoughts, especially the kids that are still dealing with the aftermath.

Life with the Baylor Bears

2008-09-06T13:32:00.000-07:00

Each Kindergarten class at my school represents a different college in an attempt to motivate our children early on towards college. My class is Baylor University. While their grasp of their connection to a college is limited, their understanding of their Baylor Bear identity is strong. They get excited every time they see a picture of a bear, screaming "Baylor bears! Baylor bears!" Our classroom routine starts with a Baylor Bear cheer and adventure each morning as we climb Baylor Bear mountain to the end of the day- the goal being for our whole class to end the day on top of the mountain. If a student chooses poor behavior during the day, they take themselves off of the mountain. Through out the day we will conference as a class about the behavior that led to some students leaving the mountain or behavior changes that let them back on.

I was scared at first about publicly discussing behavior with the whole class, but I've seen something beautiful as our Baylor Bear team identity has emerged.
Each time we bring someone back on the mountain after talking about their behavior choices, the whole class (on their own) claps and cheers for each person who is able to come back on. It feels like a reality show- "You're back on Baylor Bear Mountain!" and the crowd goes wild!

They don't mock their friends that are not able to come back on yet; they give them a pat on the back and tell them that tomorrow is a new day.

I'm amazed by what we can learn from children. What if adults approached successes and failures in everyday life with this type of community of care? What if we openly discussed the ways that we fell short and went astray and rejoiced when our comrades made the right choices? This is not to say that my children don't also tattle on each other and occasionally snatch, hit, and poke their friends-these happen everyday too- but they also have the innocence of openness that we sometimes fear as adults.

I might be teaching my kids how to hold books and how to count, but they are teaching me about grace, patience, and community too. I'm glad it's an equal exchange.

Being Ms. Skattebo

2008-09-01T10:32:00.000-07:00

I have a new identity that I don't quite feel a part of yet.

Parents ask me for advice about their children even though I have none of my own, children come to me to get ready for first grade and I'm still learning how to teach them.

My name is Ms. Skattebo 95% of each day (or Skattego, Skatte...., Skattabo, Shattebo, Skabetto if you are one of my kids or coworkers). When I tell my kids stories about when I was their age I say things like, "Back when Ms. Skattebo was called Katie, she got lost at the zoo just like the kid in our story..." Who is Ms. Skattebo? What kind of teacher is she?

I already wonder about what my kids will remember about Kindergarten in ten years. Will they remember our adventure story that we do each morning? Will they remember getting a hug or high five at the door from their teacher? Or will they remember the times when my patience has worn too thin and I've yelled at them?

We're still figuring each other out. My kids have shown me a lot of grace without even knowing it. I feel like I'm supposed to be like Ms. Honey from Matilda but by the end of the day feel more like the teacher from Charlie Brown who just makes noises and is never really seen. Regardless of how well I handle my new role each day, they still give me hugs and are excited to see me the next day. Thank God kids are resilient.

I don't know when being Ms. Skattebo in Houston, Texas will feel normal, but until it does, I'm enjoying the process of figuring it out.

Clorox Wipes are My New Best Friend

2008-08-13T18:40:00.000-07:00

I wanted to bath in Sanitizer and cleaning wipes today.

My day began at 6:20 when I sat with another teacher who was throwing up in a trash can and had to go home to rest up. This led to my co-teacher being reassigned to her class and me being on my own for my third day with my Kindergarten class. Ms. Skattebo thought she was cut out to handle 23 five-year-olds by herself, but her students soon reminded her that she has a lot to learn. They smelled her newness and they pounced.

I was pooped on
Drooled on
Snotted on
and man-handled by five-year-olds.

Those were some of the low points that happened before and after my lunch break that I spent sobbing in my classroom.

Some of the high points? Little Miguel grabbing my face and flashing his big smile as he tried to decide what color his teacher's eyes were. Little Corey giving me a huge bear hug after he wasn't very happy with me. Getting to sing "boom chicka boom" and shake our hips on the carpet. And all of my wonderful coworkers who came to check on me and were willing to sit with my kids while I cleaned up.

I have learned quickly that teaching is going to have its good days and bad days. But regardless of the days, I love my kids and I'm thankful to be with them... even when they make me want to wear a fanny pack full of Clorox wipes.

Sam the Scientist

2008-07-15T09:36:00.000-07:00

"I hate Science!" was the common phrase as my third graders entered the classroom on the first day.

"Are we going to blow things up? If not, this is going to be lame!"

I had to think of something to ignite an excitement for learning, especially for Science.

Thus I invented Sam. Sam really wants to be a scientist. The problem is, that Sam is awful at science. Every time we try to do experiments, Sam messes it up. He's not safe in the lab and he doesn't understand how things work. So I told Sam about my third grade class and how good at Science they are, so he wants to learn from them. My class has taught Sam how to make observation, how to be safe in the Science lab, how to form questions and hypotheses, and most importantly, they drew maps of the Solar System so we could get Sam back from Jupiter (he didn't know the order of the planets so he ended up there instead of on earth).

Everyday the kids would come into the classroom, wide-eyed, asking if I had talked to Sam the night before. I would have a hard time maintaining their attention during every other subject and every other moment in class, except when I was telling stories about Sam- they were absolutely silent and attentive. The problem came when they started asking when Sam was going to come visit them. I knew I somehow had to get Sam to come visit Ms. Skattebo's third grade class. They were asking every male teacher that walked past them "Are you Sam?!"

I recruited a 1st grade teacher at my school to pose as the infamous Sam. My class began to prepare for his arrival by making him invitations to our party on the last day of school.

"I'm going to make the letters really big just in case Sam is blind," Maria informed me.

"What's Sam's favorite color?" Henry asked.

"What if Sam is invisible?"

"I wonder if he's strong."

Speculations about Sam continued to flurry around the room as crayons and markers moved across their invitations.

One of my favorite cards to Sam was from a little girl named Cristal. She wrote: "Sam Com to aer Pate. Becas it will be songs lak slderboy an we are giben to you food cande hot cips and more," (Translation: Come to our party. Because it will be songs like Soldier Boy and we are giving you food, candy, hot chips, and more) This was all accompanied by a picture of "Ms. Carrovow" (that's me) with huge hair.

The day came to meet Sam and to do our last science experiment of the summer: mentos in Coke (if you've never tried it, look it up online and then do it! It's awesome, it makes the soda explode out of the top of the bottle). Sam put on some nerdy glasses, and a sports jackets, tucked his pants into his socks, carried a clipboard and made up a ridiculous voice fitting for Sam the Scientist.

I brought my class to the field where we would conduct the experiment. As they turned the corner and saw the man who had gotten them excited about Science, they suddenly got quiet and shy. They introduced themselves and shook his hand and slowly began to ask him questions about space and the different things he had learned from them. It was awesome. We did the experiment, they said goodbye to Sam, and they all got their picture taken with their new found friend.

I was talking with Samantha later on about what she would do at her dream party if she could do anything. I knew my class's opinion of science had changed when she responded, "Science!"

Week 2

2008-06-25T16:13:00.000-07:00

It's 5:00AM and I'm gripping my alarm clock, trying to decide if I can afford not to shower for the second morning in a row. Getting three hours of sleep for the past few nights has not aided my ability to make simple decisions in the morning. I throw up my mess of humidified curls into a bun and sloth downstairs to file through the morning assembly line of prepacked lunch items. The leadership staff is pumping oldies jams from a boom box to try to energize 700 partially delusional, second week teachers. It's not easy.

A mass of teachers, school supplies, posters, and coffee moves towards the row of school buses as someone calls out over the loudspeaker, "Brownsville, 2 minute warning!"

I sit quietly in the back of the bus, frantically trying to make last minutes notes on my lesson plan, making sure nothing was forgotten in my dorm room, and downing the last little bit of coffee from my travel mug.

My posters are hung around the room, my notes are on the overhead, my clipboard is in hand and I stand waiting for my 18 third graders to walk into the room so I can shake their hand and start the day.

We've established our classroom management, we specified the rules and expectations, we've chanted our class goal, "Work Hard, Get Smart, No Excuses!" but we're all still working on maintaining those expectations. Somewhere between the hours of preparation and the lesson execution, my control of the classroom and ability to clearly present writing concepts slowly dwindles. My energy is fading along with my confidence every time I have to stop the lesson and remind the kids that they need to be quiet and pay attention. I have three notes, two stuffed animals, four earrings, and a pen up at my desk that I've confiscated throughout the lesson.
Right as I'm in the middle of reminding the class once again what I expect from them while they're writing their "My Favorite Summer Activity" paragraphs, Alejandro calls out, "Miss, how do you spell marshmallow?"

Giggles start to spread throughout the room, I attempt to shoot Alejandro a look for interrupting me, but instead a smile creeps over my face and I begin to laugh. The whole class erupts with laughter as I try to explain to Alejandro that he needs to settle down. All that came out was more laughing. Alejandro would take a second to step outside so that he could regain his composure, but would then enter the room and start laughing again. I couldn't control myself either! I would laugh every time he walked in the door giggling. All the kids started asking how to spell marshmallow, so I wrote MARSHMALLOW in huge letters across the board.

That night as I graded their papers, five different paragraphs talked about eating marshmallows.

On My First Day in Texas, My New State Gave to Me...

2008-06-06T14:20:00.000-07:00

(Can be sung to the tune of "On the First Day of Christmas" if desired)
1 Speeding ticket
1 dead bird on my windshield
2 worried looks when asking about recycling (they don't do that here...)
3 chips in my windshield
4 Convicts at a rest stop (accompanied by the Department of Homeland Security Van)
5 Country radio stations
6 Mega churches
20 Camels grazing (dead serious)
90 mph wind gusts
100 Degree heat + humidity
Too Many Texas flags to count!

My welcome into my new home was quite eventful during my drive down to Texas by myself yesterday. As I pulled into Houston, I realized just how off my perception of this city was. I kept thinking that I was in the heart of downtown Houston just to discover that I had barely entered the suburbs! The grip on my steering wheel tightened as I weaved my way through the maze of Houston streets to find my hotel. Everyone has been incredibly friendly; I feel inspired sitting with such driven and dedicated people. There has been a large amount of information from day one and they don't lose any time teaching us what we need to know.

I have a lot to learn about this city and about teaching, but I'm really looking forward to it all. It's such a mix of both excitement and extreme intimidation, but I am walking through this with incredible people.

The learning process started before I even left Colorado, and I know it will continue- we'll see just how much my brain can process in a 5 week training!

To do list for Houston:

2008-05-25T16:49:00.001-07:00

1. Buy grown-up clothes

2. Polish cowboy boots (boots can be business casual right?)

3. Spend as much time as possible outside in Colorado while I can still enjoy being outdoors

4. Sit in sauna to prepare for the humidity

5. Buy hairspray and work on my bouffant hairdo

This is just the beginning of a long list of things that need to get done before I leave Colorado and drive 16 hours to Houston to begin my training for Teach For America. The anticipation of what is coming next is both thrilling and daunting. I've gotten mixed responses from everyone about my upcoming adventure; most fall into the category of "I don't envy you at all," or "get ready for the humidity!" But I also feel the overwhelming support of those around me as I attempt to step into a very foreign role in an incredibly foreign environment.

So here starts the new adventures of Ms. 'Bo and her Texas experience. I'll try to keep the blog updated as much as possible for those interested in updates. Thanks for checking in and pray for a safe drive down!

2008-04-27T13:43:00.000-07:00

I've been processing the purpose of Church lately: wading through discouragement, and wondering if we've missed the mark on its purpose. But after countless discussions, readings, observations, and church services, here are some of my discoveries.

Church is:
Communion. The fellowship of broken people coming together to publicly acknowledge that they are all sinners and are ALL redeemed together. By sharing in such a vulnerable experience together, we are recognizing our humanity and need for redemption. There are not any excuses when you are openly admitting your flaws. Breaking bread as a community, sharing in Christ's blood as the body- that is what the Church is.

Community. Today at church I heard the story of a Burmese refugee who was accused of child luring and was going to be sentenced in a Spokane court. The Church showed up at the courthouse by the hundreds to stand outside and peacefully pray for the man. The judge heard a local Burmese pastor testify for the man and ask the Judge to allow him to take the place of his brother. The man was sentenced to no jail time and 3 months of community observation, with a $500 fine- which was paid within minutes from the people waiting outside of the courthouse. The Church is a group of people that won't let someone suffer alone or walk through hurt without support.

Care. I had my last 30 Hour Famine with my youth group this weekend. An event that I have shared with these middle schoolers for 4 years now. At the end of our time and after watching "Invisible Children," I watched as the students grappled with the pain and injustice that children in other parts of the world are dealing with and ask the question, "if God loves everyone, how can He allow that to happen to some people, while we are taken care of?" The leaders paused so that other kids could have the chance to respond. After a moments thought, one girl responded, "I don't think it's God's fault, I think it's ours. We should be taking care of each other." From there a discussion was sparked about how the students could raise money at their schools for the children in Africa. I watched with joy as I saw junior high students challenge complacency and care for kids that before seemed a world apart. The Church is a global body that is responsible for caring for those who have little when some have been given much.

I have been encouraged by witnessing the beauty of what God intended for us as believers. I know that we do not have it all figured out and that we are bound to fail and mess things up. But we'll keep communing, and keep striving for what God intended: communion, community, and care.

It's that time of year

2008-04-10T22:40:00.000-07:00

I miss the smell of sunscreen. I almost crept into my bathroom cabinet to dust off the SPF 15 bottle and stick my nose in it.
Instead I'm stuck contemplating sunless tanners and why I keep getting snowed on every time I try to go running. "April showers bring May flowers" has been my constant mantra for the past couple of weeks.

This is a bizarre point in my life. Some of you have walked through this before me and some of you have yet to approach this drop off. I'm watching my friends have emotional break downs as they try to figure out how we're supposed to manage this transition: Going to school for the past 18 years and then what? We don't have a paradigm for this change- we've always known what was coming next. School.
I see people handling it in a variety of ways: losing themselves in school, friendship, sorrow, joy, sleep, recklessness.
My chosen method? Self preservation at the sacrifice of school commitments (healthy? it's debatable...) I'm at the point where I refuse to get stressed out by my school work. I have too many other things to cause stress in my life, I'm not going to let school be one of them. So I work until I don't feel like working anymore, and then I go play. To each his own, right?

I'm thankful I know what is coming next- I'm not jumping off the diving board without knowing if there's water in the pool. But that doesn't change the fact that the water is murky and I don't really know what I'm jumping into. This transition time is still challenging too: I'm trying to plan for Teach for America (30-35 hours of prep work before June), maintain healthy relationships, personal health, and school. Where are my loyalties supposed to lie at this point? I don't know

But I do know that May comes after April. I know that the sun will come out and that I will finally get to smell my sunscreen. I know that I have a wonderful family and group of friends that will continue to be my support system next year. I know that God has gotten me through every other transition in my life, so chances are, He'll get me and my friends through this one too.

So that is what I am hanging onto. I'll keep running in the snow until I can run in the sun. Maybe I'll go sniff some sunscreen as a reminder that it will all come together when it's time.

If you have any suggestions for me or my emotionally unstable friends, please, pass them on.

I'll Rise

2008-03-12T22:15:00.000-07:00

I am present.
I see the road in front of me.
I follow the white line to keep my focus
Look up, look around.
The fields slumber under a blanket of untouched snow. But its icy touch is still present:
It kisses my cheeks, and pulls at my fingers.
I push against the wind, and my temperature rises.
I rise, I rise.

I climb, I press on; not knowing what the next bend will hold
And I hold to the fact that I'm past the last bend,
Past the last hill,
And I'm here; I'm present.

Silence is broken by my heart- beating as I climb, as I rise.
My breathing steadies as it finds my legs- pedaling, pumping, as I rise, as I climb.

I feel the pavement- it vibrates through the tips of my toes and up to my knees.
My muscles tighten in anticipation of what lies ahead, but they cannot know-
-I cannot know-
But I keep climbing, and rising.

In this moment, I am present- separated from past, future, and self- as I climb, as I rise.

In an escape of duty and homework, my friend and I went on a bike ride last weekend and ended up riding up this massive uphill slope in the middle of the country. It started snowing, then hailing (I guess I don't have good luck even when I give up the car for the bike...) and it was such a hard ride, but it was SO good. I felt the release of all of my stress and anticipation as I pedaled as hard as I could up that hill. It was the type of moment where you are so present that you forget about yourself (read "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" by Annie Dillard, she talks about it beautifully). Once we began our decent that was in part forced by the increase of hail and the numbness of my toes, we stopped pedaling and just flew down the hill with nothing but the open road ahead of us. It was the sigh of relief after an uphill battle.

I know that this semester is long, hard, and not always enjoyable; but I need to be present in order to truly experience what it is worth. And I know that if I fight the uphill, there is always a downhill waiting for me to soar down and enjoy.

Maybe it's just me...

2008-02-28T22:29:00.000-08:00

But I'm starting to think that I have bad luck. Why? Well, let me tell you.

About 3 weeks ago my car battery dies. 3 times in two days. Now some may say that this was just Katie being careless and leaving her lights on and then not letting the car charge long enough afterwards... we'll see. Needless to say I know how to jump my car now.

About two days after the battery incident, I was driving to a youth conference when I conveniently hit one of Spokane's biggest potholes and blew out a tire. I left my car in a parking lot, and took my wonderful roommate's car to the conference. Now I can change a flat tire.

Yesterday my car was broken into. Now, this is rather surprising because my car really isn't what you called a "hot target." I don't know about you, but 1986 Buicks don't usually catch my eye. They didn't take my cd player, just my cds- the only one I was bummed about was my Iron & Wine w/ Calexico CD. The good news is that they are all on my computer so it's ok. Now I know that even though your drive a crappy car, you should check and make sure that all of your doors are locked. And turn off your lights.

Now here's the kicker:

Today, I just wanted to go hear some good music at a coffee shop. The parking lot was full, so I made my way towards an empty lot where some other cars were parked. I drove onto the snow with the other cars and my left front tire hit something and was kind of dragging low. Fearing that I had blown another tire, I pulled ahead so that I could turn around and get out of the snow. Much to my surprise, the snow was not snow at all- it was a giant lake of slush. I suddenly found my car in 2 feet of slush/ice cold water and unable to move. I opened the door to see if I was going to be able to escape without getting completely wet. I found some ice to sneak onto and slid slowly towards the shore. After being pulled out of the slush pit o' death, the kind man who towed me out forgot to pull me all the way out of the snow and left. (I guess he thought Buicks are as good in the snow/slush as giant trucks are, oh well).

I got stuck again.

So 5 very nice, strong men come out and push and pull my car until we finally get it onto solid ground. From this experience I learned that you shouldn't drive into lakes of slush because your car will get stuck.

Now to look on the positive side, I can now be fairly self sufficient when it comes to getting myself and my car out of sticky situations (except the ice stuff, that takes lots of people). Maybe I should just stop driving? Maybe I should just stop driving crappy cars? Who knows.

But they say bad things come in 3's and I'm on 4, so I figure I've put in my time- we'll see.

Hopefully this will be the only entry about the adventures of Katie and her Buick. I'd be ok with that. I hope you can learn from my mistakes. Kids, turn off your lights, lock your doors, mind the road, buckle your seat belts, and avoid giant lakes of slush.

What to My Wondering Eyes Should Appear

2008-01-30T11:32:00.000-08:00

I rarely dry my hair. It seems like a tedious task that just result in my hair looking like a frizzy puff ball instead of the mass of untamed, raggedy curls that take half the time to create. But one morning over Christmas break I decided to tackle the project of taming the beast.

As the brush moved through my hair, I noticed something catching the light's reflection amidst the mess. I turned the hairdryer off and leaned towards the mirror to remove whatever was stuck in my hair. Expecting to pull out a thread or some other foreign object, I was quite caught of guard when the object turned out to be attached to my scalp.

It was a coarse, WHITE, hair.

I held the little sign of aging between my fingers, staring blankly at my own reflection in the mirror.

Then the inner-turmoil began:

Do I pull it? I heard if you pull them then more grow.
Should I treasure this as a sign of wisdom?
Is it stress?
Will I be grey by the time I'm 25?
Should I name it?
What will I find next? I mean, my knees are already bad, I don't think I can handle many more symptoms this early.

I quickly began digging through my hair for more little surprises but the excavation rendered nothing.

I held the hair separate from the rest of the head (I wouldn't want it to spread) and made my way to my sister's room. Note: seeking solace from a seventeen-year-old only results in feeling worse about yourself and confirms any thoughts of inadequacy that you might have been holding onto. So I tried going to someone else.

"Look." I said as I thrust my moppy head of hair towards my mother. Note: seeking comfort from a hard-working mother of five over a white hair will result in feelings of insignificance and stupidity.

"Hm." She said as if it was normal for her to see white hairs on the heads of youthful twenty-two-year-old's. Then she plucked out the culprit without a second thought.

What was I supposed to do now? Wait for more? The solution can't be as simple as pulling it out. I need to revitalize my youth- start running more, be nicer to people, eat more carrots. This little hair had me reevaluating my life, the direction it was going, and who I was hanging out with.

So as I thought about blogging-worthy news, this, of course, took precedent over any other big life changing events that are happening right now. (i.e. my last semester of school, Teach for America, the Presidential elections, etc.) So folks, consider yourselves informed. If you have any other questions about my aging process, please don't hesitate to write. And if you need any advice from a wise early-twenties college student, I'm a fountain of knowledge now that I'm greying gracefully.

Pictures from Jan Term

2008-01-27T16:36:00.000-08:00

This is a memorial at the border between Tijuana and the U.S.

Despite the limits of not speaking the same language, the kids and I found plenty of ways to entertain each other.

This is my good friend, Chewey- one of the cutest and most energetic kids I've ever met

Every single building in Tijuana is ridden with graffiti

I didn't pull out my camera a lot for the sake of interacting with people and timing. There's so much that I couldn't capture with a camera, but I hope these pictures can give you a small look into my time there.

You Know You've been in Mexico for awhile when...

2008-01-17T08:53:00.000-08:00

1. You think that tortillas and refried beans should be eaten with breakfast, lunch, and dinner... and snack

2. You mistakenly think it would be funny to tell your mom that you were detained at the border because someone put an illegal substance into your backpack.

3. You answer "si" out of habit when ordering at an restaurant in the United States

4. You have to do a lice treatment in your hair and wash everything after seeing all of the little children picking through each others' hairs looking for "creaturas"

5. You show up at the hotel and the concierge thinks you've been binge drinking in TJ because you look that de-shoveled.

I'm back in the United States now after some wonderful time in Tijuana. I spent a lot of time being the quiet observer as I racked my brain for any Spanish words and conjugations that I could possibly remember. Despite the lack of coherent verbal communication, I was able to help the kids with math, science, and history homework after school. It was an adjustment to move into their slower paced life. We spent a lot of time sitting, talking (well, I was mainly listening), and a wonderful lady named Carmen taught me how to knit scarves. Everyone was so kind and inviting even though they didn't have to be, and I was blessed to be able to meet the beautiful women that are caring for these children. I'll post some pictures once I get back to Spokane.

For now we're hanging out in San Diego. As far as we know we are all lice free, parasite free, and are all very thankful for the experience we were blessed to have at the orphanage.

Whirlwind

2008-01-07T23:48:00.000-08:00

It's funny how in one minute, and with one e-mail, the next two years of my life have suddenly fallen into place.

I'm going to be an elementary school teacher....

In Texas....

What?

I prayed that if I was supposed to do Teach For America, that my best friend and I would end up in the same city. We both put Phoenix as our number one choices because they were in such desperate need of teachers and we were told that we would almost be guaranteed a spot. But then we both got our e-mails today and we both got placed in the same city in Texas. Sometimes I pray for things and I'm still amazed when they are answered. This is one of those times.

So I guess this is the part where I step out in faith after receiving God's answer.

I'm going to be a teacher for two years.

Without having any time to really process what just happened, I'm now hopping on a plane to go spend two weeks in Tijuana, Mexico. Maybe I'll have more coherent thoughts when I return- but who knows.

2008-01-04T18:40:00.000-08:00

January 4th, 2008

55 degrees Fahrenheit
chacos
short sleeved shirt and jeans
clear blue skies

Just one more reason why Colorado is near perfection.

An interesting semester

2007-12-14T16:10:00.000-08:00

Now: Breath. Sit. Read. Rest. Reflect.

The past semester:
A student, a washer woman, a picture scanner, a gardener, an intern, a youth group volunteer.
Hard, pointless, humbling, belittling, busy, tiresome, was it more?

Now: Breath. Sit. Read. Rest. Reflect.

The future:
A graduate, a teacher, a barista, a volunteer, a traveler, a wanderer, a dreamer.
Scary, unknown, exciting, open, intimidating, hopeful, around the corner.

Now: Breath. Sit. Read. Rest. Reflect.

Christmas Break is a time for me to regroup. I'm in transition mode and it's good. As bizarre and frustrating as this past semester has been, it wasn't pointless. I learned, I grew, and I'm still processing. I'm trying to prepare for a future that doesn't exist yet while attempting to focus on the present. All I know is that now is a good time to breath, sit, read, rest, and reflect. The past has shaped me, and the future will fall into place.

I am home, I am doing well, and for now I am content- I want to remember that feeling when everything in my world seems to be a shadow of what is to come or what has been.

After taking time with my family and close friends, I'm heading to Tijuana with my dear traveling buddy to work in an orphanage for awhile. I'm sure I'll have more to share about that experience.

Stay tuned as I discover more about what is to come in the next chapter of my life: I find out if I made it into the Teach For America program on January 7th.

The curse of the "married vibe"

2007-12-01T15:09:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there was a young woman named Katie, and she was single.
She was happy and content hanging out with friends and enjoying school.
Little did she know, that while she was sleeping one night, an evil witch came and put a curse on her; the dreaded "married vibe" curse.

Katie was unaware that she was marked with the "married vibe." She would talk to boys without any knowledge that across her forehead were written the warning words, "Caution: She is engaged or married."

Until one day when Katie went to a friend's wedding and was talking to two acquaintances. One asked her if she was married.

"No..." She replied rather shocked.

"Are you engaged?" asked the other person

"Um, no?" Katie replied quizzically.

"Oh, that's funny. I always thought you were married." the person remarked as if this were common knowledge.

This sent Katie's head spinning. Where did this get started? Why did they think she was married? There was no ring on her finger that would lead to this conclusion. She decided to brush it off as a mistake.

Until the next weekend when she went hiking up at a camp where some friends were working. During conversation, the previous weekend's mistake came up and a young man looked up at Katie with a worried look on his face.

"Katie, lots of people think you're married or engaged. I started hearing that last spring. I've heard a lot of guys say that."

Katie started to feel like things were getting slightly out of hand with the whole matter. Was someone playing a joke on her?

Yes; that must be it.... it couldn't be anything that she was doing.... but she was mistaken.

That night at a work party, two people mistook her for the wife of a 35-year-old man. That week at youth group, kids were asking if one of the girls that attended youth group was her daughter.

"Katie, it seems as though you're putting off the 'married vibe.'" a friend was kind enough to point out.

Katie's aunt thinks that she needs to go to therapy for the problem...

Though she is unsure of the cure, she is hoping that the spell wares off without her having to make drastic changes in the way that she interacts with people. Until then, Katie is enjoying her fake married life with her fake kids.
THE END

Thankfulness

2007-11-23T22:32:00.000-08:00

I'm thankful for:
Family
Good food
Fireplaces
No School
Holidays
Old slippers
Hand written letters
Laughter
Hoodies
Flip-flops
Warm drinks
Forgiveness
Grace
Singing
Art
Sleeping outside
Sleeping in
Hugs
Smiles
Rainstorms
Financial Aid
Colors
Sunsets/Sunrises
Deep Conversations with good friends
Phone calls
Friendly Strangers
New music
Road trips
Good books
Fall leaves
Fluffy snow
Hiking
Big mountains
Chocolate
Tears
Flowers
Spices
Dancing
Pink nail polish
Nakedness
Mittens
Colorado water
Guitars
Creativity
Creation
the Northern Lights
Hot showers
Thick carpet
Fat Tire
Cellos
Comfy chairs
People watching
Christmas lights
New friends
Old friends
Grandparents
Common Interests
New knowledge
Honesty
Children's books
Culture
Clean clothes out of the dryer
Sand
Rock Climbing
Ideas that challenge my way of thinking
Experiences that challenge my way of living
Snowshoeing
Card games
Backpacking
Exploration
the Ocean
Chacos
Cameras
the word "poop"
Fire
People that I can look up to
Junior Highers
Stain glass windows
Poetry
Green grass

and so much more

Art & Music

2007-11-04T17:42:00.000-08:00

Art and music are two of the mysterious things in life that draw strangers together.

You can suddenly feel connected with someone that you have never laid eyes on when you discover a shared musical taste or a favorite book.

Two people can be looking at the same painting, both being moved by it in completely different ways, and then suddenly have a bond that leads them to ignore the social rules about talking to strangers and strike up a conversation that has no introductory beginning and no real end- just a middle.

Two weekends ago I had a man share his favorite quotes with me from the movie we had just finished at a theater. Something about the nature of the film moved this man to turn back to the woman in the row behind him and divulge a random thought before leaving.

Friday night I journeyed through Spokane galleries discussing pieces of art with the creators of the art and others that were there to enjoy it. No one asked me what I thought of the art, but for some reason I felt the need to tell the person next to me how beautiful I thought everything was. They would return the favor and then we would part ways.

Yesterday I went to Spokane's annual folk festival. I saw everything from yodelers to belly dancers (don't ask me how that's considered folk...) My favorite part was the spontaneous jam sessions. Someone would sit down in the middle of the room packed with vendors and entertainment, and start playing their guitar. Pretty soon a fiddle and bass would take their place in the song. The wash board would find its way into the mix followed by the cautious beginnings of an accordion part. All over the room little groups like this would form. Strangers who brought their instruments for these improv orchestras that molded together for one purpose: music.

I think we all have a desire to share this beauty with each other. It breaks down boundaries in a way that not much else can. We lay aside our inhibitions and we experience; together. I find that to be one of the incredible marks of our Creator.

Still Alive

2007-10-29T23:22:00.000-07:00

After losing my voice, giving a youth group talk with a karaoke microphone to project the little voice I did have, staying late at work to make up for the time off for Fall Break, and waking up in the wee hours of the mornings to study, I made it through Mid terms and recuperated with the room mates up in the mountains and in Seattle during our four day weekend.

We made sure to make the weekend as diverse as possible:

Not that kind of diversity

We started with a little classic blood bath fest watching "Scarface", progressed with some hiking, apple pie making, and facials, and then moved on to exploring Seattle, dinner at a pub on Baimbridge Island, and some other activities that will remain secrets of the Fall Break 07 sisterhood...

We got to spend a day at a cabin tucked away in the Mountains after spending an afternoon in the always pleasant and very Bavarian town of Leavenworth.

Then we had all of Seattle in our hands for two days of exploring

We took the ferry to Baimbridge Island and made friends with a museum director from Oman who gave me a key chain made out of camel's hair! (He's not in the picture... those are my House mates)

Now I'm back in Spokane and I'm trying not to be bitter about Spokane's lack of diversity, mountains, and culture. It's back to the books, but I've got a little more motivation to make it to the next break in a couple of weeks; then I have the Skattebo clan including the one we lost to Amsterdam to look forward to!

A Haiku of all I can manage to say:

2007-10-21T23:38:00.000-07:00

Midterms suck out life
I forget I have survived
I'll conquer once more

I'm Not in Control

2007-10-11T15:24:00.000-07:00

I was planning on writing about my past weekend; but it's almost Friday and I'm thinking about a lot of other things that are taking precedent over art walks and Apple orchards.

Something is happening in my community to people that are often overlooked and passed by. A number of low-income apartment buildings in downtown Spokane are being torn down as part of what they are calling the "Spokane Rennaissance"- making downtown more metropolitan and classy, which is good for the businesses, bad for the poorer community members that live down there. Low-income housing is scarce as it is, but with the loss of these apartment buildings, hundreds of people are soon going to be homeless. The average inhabitant is over 50 (not exactly the prime age for picking up and moving), a number of residents have mental disorders, and the majority have some sort of disability. Some of those living in the Otis Hotel have lived there for over 9 years.

They are being evicted on the 16th of October and there is nowhere affordable for a lot of them to go. People are working on finding housing, but it is going to cost close to $80,000 to make sure that all of those working on these cases still get paid.

As a part of the Spokane community, and as a Christian, I know that something needs to be done. Money needs to be raised, but people keep telling me that I need to consider the fact that college students are poor and can't contribute that much. Housing needs to be found but I don't have the resources to find housing. Awareness needs to be created, but that isn't enough if nothing is done. A friend and I have been told to wait and see what comes, that there is nothing that can done right now. Pray, just wait and see.

Prayer is essential. But is prayer supposed to substitute action? How long do you wait around for something to be done until the opportunity has passed and you forget that you were ever concerned about it? I feel helpless, but maybe that is exactly where I am supposed to be. It reminds me that things are not in my hands; it forcse me trust that God's heart does ache for the poor and that He cares for them in ways that I do not understand. It reminds me that I am not the Savior- everything does not get fixed when I get involved. That doesn't mean that I toss up my hands and say, "oh well, maybe next time." Prayer needs to lead to action- that may look different than I wanted it to, but it's all that I can hope for right now.

There's so much in our world that I do not understand. We do horrible things to each other as humans. In the uneasiness of our world, all that we can do is trust that God is bigger than us and pray that He will use us as His hands and feet.

So please join me in praying for those who are about to lose their homes. Pray that we would be led in a productive direction in this and be able to help out however we are able.

Defeated again

2007-09-19T22:28:00.000-07:00

Setting-Monday night in the kitchen:
Me:"Guys, what foods have iron in them; I'm giving blood tomorrow and I want to make sure my iron levels are up to par."
Neighbor: "I'm pretty sure kiwi has iron and I have one in my fridge that you can have."
Me: "Thanks! Mmmm" *eating kiwi from generous neighbor in hopes of being able to give blood*
__________________________1 hour later_____________________
Me: "Man, my eyes are itchy!" *rub right eye vigorously*
-------Suddenly remember that the last time I had kiwi was two years ago and that my eyes puffed up later that night and my nose swelled outward so that I looked like an alien. At the time, it was unknown if it was the kiwi's fault or that of a dusty room....(it was the kiwi's fault)---

-------Take benedryl and try to keep hands away from eyes while reading my textbook through watery and blurry eyeballs.

_______________________2 hours later________________________
Come to grips with the fact that I'm going to look like a lopsided alien in the morning with one normal eye (the left one) and one tiny, puffy, right eye, and a flat nose. Oh well.

_____________________Tuesday at 3:00 PM______________________
Go to my appointment to give blood-

Rejected earlier than any other time when they find out that I took benedryl the night before...

Oh deceitful and harmful kiwi; the irony of a fruit that was meant for good and ended up being the very reason I couldn't give blood- blast you kiwi and your little fuzzy shell.

I'll try again next month

If a Song Could be President- by Over the Rhine

2007-09-15T09:25:00.000-07:00

If a song could be president
We’d hum on Election Day
The gospel choir would start to sway
And we’d all have a part to play

The first lady would free her hips
Pull a microphone to her lips
Break our hearts with Rhythm and Blues
Steve Earle would anchor the news

We’d vote for a melody
Pass it around on an MP3
All our best foreign policy
Would be built on harmony

If a song could be president
We’d fly a jukebox to the moon
All our founding fathers’ 45’s
Lightnin’ Hopkins and Patsy Cline
If a song could be president

If a song could be president
We could all add another verse
Life would teach us to rehearse
Till we found a key change

Break out of this minor key
Half-truths and hypocrisy
We wouldn’t need an underachiever-in-chief
If a song could be president

We’d make Neil Young a Senator
Even though he came from Canada
Emmylou would be Ambassador
World leaders would listen to her

They would show us where our country went wrong
Strum their guitars on the White House lawn
John Prine would run the FBI
All the criminals would laugh and cry
If a song could be president

http://www.overtherhine.com/recordplayer/recordplayer.html- check it out

I got to see them in Seattle on Thursday night...incredible

Patience

2007-09-03T14:34:00.000-07:00

Patience. It's said to be a virtue. It's one that I often lack.

I quickly forget that we are usually asked to be patient for God's best- for something better than what we had planned for ourselves. I kick and scream and question: "But what I had planned was SO good God; what are you doing?"

So often I sit with something broken and flawed in my hands and refuse to see that God is asking me to give it up so He can fill my hands with a treasure.

My hands were filled with God's treasure last week. A good friend and I had been planning a backpacking trip since winter for the end of the summer, and everything about it had fallen through and changed. I was holding on to this trip all summer as my one chance to get into the mountains after months of being at sea level in humidity. After coming back to Spokane, the trip was postponed again and I anxiously sat in an empty house bitterly waiting to leave.

But like always, God's timing was so much better than my own. We had three perfect, cloudless days in the Cascades, wonderful conversation, breathtaking scenery, wild mountain blueberries, no disruptions, and to top it all off, because we had to wait a week, we got to see the lunar eclipse from an alpine lake on a perfectly clear night.

I think it's both a blessing and a curse that a camera lens can never capture what we see with our eyes, but here are some snapshots of what I was surrounded by, they don't do the true scenery any justice

Our campsite right by the lake
What I woke up to

Patience is something that God asks of us when He has something wonderful in store. And then He rolls up His sleeves and pours out so much blessing upon us that we don't know what to do with it all.

From "Ya'll" to "Uff Da"

2007-08-10T12:09:00.000-07:00

I have only received two trophies in my life (not counting the one that everyone on my 3rd grade soccer team got when I was 9); both of which I think I was far from deserving or qualified for. The first was in high school when I was awarded "FCA Female Athlete of the Year" having never played an organized sport for my school...

The second was given to me at the end of my time in Mississippi at a small good-bye party that my family had for me. My great uncle gave a speech about a secret committee and hours of deliberation and had one of my little cousins come up and open the sealed envelope. And the winner of the 2007 summer award is....Katie Skattebo. Yes friends, you are looking at the "Mississippi Summer Queen of 2007" I got an engraved trophy and everything! Now for those of you who know me, I do not exactly embody anything remotely close to "Queenly" or "Southern Belle" qualities, even after my summer in the South. Regardless, I'm putting the trophy on my mantel; it was the perfect ending to my crazy adventure in the south.

The man who looks like Colonel Sanders and Mark Twain is my great uncle

A day after arriving home, my family and I packed into the "mini-van o' chaos" and made our way to Iowa for my cousin's wedding- here's just a taste of what the second experience was like:

A sample of the wedding guests

The groom's cake

Like every good Midwestern family, you have at least 4 different kinds of salad at every meal- potato salad, fruit salad, green salad, and cole slaw (the two tubs at the end are the potato salad and cole slaw.

After dancing their hearts out, my brothers retired to the table while the rest of the Skattebos danced the "chicken dance," which was a special request just for our family made by my great aunt Maxine.

Stay tuned to hear about the interesting hotel experience in Hampton, Iowa...

Mississippi experiences

2007-07-23T10:54:00.000-07:00

There's some things in this world that can only be experienced in the south, or are just more fun here than anywhere else. I am proud to say that I will be leaving Mississippi with some of those memories that have "priceless" stamped across them:

1.) Eating a peanut butter hamburger at a legitimate restaurant (it's actually not that bad; I wouldn't order it again, but I ate the whole thing)

2.) Getting chewed out by a lady at a table next to me for not knowing what the "Daughters of the Revolution" was. After being labeled as a Yankee by a complete stranger and then trying to explain that my mother was from Mississippi and I'm just now getting in touch with the extent of my southern roots, she subsided her anger and said, "well then girl, you had Mississippi stamped on your butt when you were born; don't you ever forget where you came from!" Thank you for that...

3.) Attending a Jackson drag queen show with my uncle to support a coworker (I love my family). I've never seen such an interesting rendition of Toni Braxton's "He Wasn't Man Enough for Me".

4.) Tubing down the Bogacheta River with my family and a cooler strapped to its own personal tube. I wish I had my camera at the time, but just to give you an idea, as we were floating along there was a sign on the side of the river that read "Don't stop here or you'll be shot." This was a true southern leisure activity.

5.) After knocking my big toe on a rock while we were rafting, I found myself at the MEA clinic the next morning with a swollen, throbbing, and infected toe. Because nothing ever goes completely normal for me, I ended up with an old Chinese man with a southern accent as my doctor who didn't seem to know what to do with me. He was asking me for advice on my toe, saying that we should probably drill little holes in my toenail but that he didn't want to hurt me. "Look," I said, "I'm more concerned about not getting a staff infection than I am with experiencing some pain." He responded with, "Yeah, staff infection are bad; some people die... hopefully not you though." I asked him where he went to Med school and he said he did all of his schooling in Mississippi and did his premed at Ole Miss. "Oh, they have a good program don't they?" I asked. "It's alright." (Note to doctors- don't say that to a patient as you're sticking a needle in their toe). He sent me on my way without much of an idea of what was really wrong with my toe, a needle so that I could perform minor surgery on myself, and some antibiotics that have made me feel tipsy since Saturday.

6.) Getting pulled out of your room by 5 giggling boys and your great uncle dressed as a gorilla in the middle of the afternoon... That might not actually happen anywhere else in the south... I think it's just a family thing.

Needless to say, I have a couple of pages in my journal dedicated to the stories I've accumulated while being here. I'm heading out in a week and I can't believe it's almost over. After this I head to the middle of Iowa for a cultural experience in the other direction.

Mississippi Diaries Part III

2007-07-02T17:48:00.000-07:00

I thought it was about time that I posted pictures of the place where I'm staying in Mississippi to show you a little more of my life here.
This is the Alston Manor:

This is the front parlor where I drink my morning sweet tea

The is the library where I play my great uncle in chess each night

This is a portrait of my Aunt painted last month

This is my quarters

It's a quaint space. Nothing too fancy, but it suites a young lady just fine...

So besides living in this divine house, (or visiting it in Vicksburg for one day- it's practically the same thing right?) my experience down here has been anything but uneventful. I have one of the most unique and wonderful families and I am so proud to be a part of the madness.

I mean, who else has a great aunt that tells them to hit up the local bars instead going over to a family member's house in order to meet a nice boy?
The conversation: "Sarah Jane, I'm not looking for some sleazy guy in a bar!"
"Well, we'll worry about that later. Just go walk through a couple of places."
My great uncle's interjection: "You need to stay out later."

Here's to family

The Simple Way

2007-07-02T17:43:00.000-07:00

Please be praying for the "Simple Way" community started by author and activist Shane Claiborne in inner-city Philedelphia. They recently experienced a devastating fire in their neighborhood that has left families homeless and destroyed so many projects that this group had started. You can read more about the story at www.thesimpleway.org and if you are interested in giving to the families and the projects in that area, visit https://www.tonycampolo.org/simpleway_donation_secure.php

Mississippi Diaries Part II

2007-06-21T15:25:00.000-07:00

Wow, there's so much to tell and I have no idea where to begin.

I'm furthering my adjustment to Mississippi, the humidity, and the accents. I'm serious about having a hard time understanding people sometimes- their accents can be so thick that I have to pick out certain words that I can detect just as if I was hearing someone speak a foreign language.

The people here continue to be friendly... even more so since I started driving my grandpa's Mustang convertible. Who would have thought that you would get way more attention driving a silver Mustang over a beat-up maroon Nissan Sentra from the stone age? I personally think my Sentra (lovingly nicknamed "squiggly" by a friend) is just as hot as a Mustang- I mean, it has yellow racing stripes for goodness sakes!

This is me and my Sugar Daddy (aka Grandpa Mouse)

On a more serious note: Since I've been at the Center, we've started a group in inner-city Jackson doing a grief group with Stewpot, a ministry to lower income families in Jackson. Being in Jackson pulls at my heart as I see the division that still exist. There is such extreme poverty here and so many people are choosing to ignore it and move further and further away from the city. But it's creeping out of the downtown areas and moving into the suburbs. It can't be ignored. Last week a woman in my neighborhood had a rifle held to her head for her wallet, an old woman had her purse stolen in broad daylight in front of a "safe grocery store." Jackson is falling apart and it's hard to see the effects of that on the kids that enter our programs. They are watching their siblings get shot over drugs, their parents are committing suicide because everything seems hopeless, they are being tossed from relative to relative because no one can take care of them. But there are those who are making a difference and choosing to combat the violence, drug use, and poverty in active ways. The ministries like Stewpot, Bethlehem Village, and the McClean Flether Center make me want to stay in Jackson and keep working with them to recreate the city. Hanging out with the Stewpot kids and hearing theirs dreams of being doctors and teachers gives me so much hope for these kids and their futures. I wish I could express what this experience is like in more detail, but I don't have enough room. It's life changing; this has given me a glimpse of my future and has made me restless to continue my journey.

I wish I could show you pictures of the kids and their beautiful smiling faces, but for their safety and confidentiality I can't. But they're beautiful, and they're making it- pray for them.

Pictures of family

2007-06-18T05:11:00.000-07:00

I recently got my digital camera replaced and now I keep forgetting that I have one. While I've been here I feel like I've missed so great photo opportunities but then when overboard with pictures the last two days. So here are some pictures with my cousins. I'll take pictures of the center sometime soon.

Mississippi Diaries Part 1

2007-06-05T20:09:00.000-07:00

I made it through my first week and the second is off to a great start!
I love my internship. There isn't too much to do during the day but we've had three groups with the kids and I feel like I'm in my element. This is an incredible organization and a wonderful facility for these kids. The thought of starting something like this in the future makes me antsy to get started. I'm learning a lot and I'm around incredible people.

I found out today that I got hired at Sal & Mookies Restaurant, which is a huge relief to have a secured job. I can't get over the name of the place though... Mookie was the name of my brother's first rat. What are the chances?

I haven't met too many people yet that are around my age. My Aunt and Uncle took me to a party at a mansion this weekend with over 100 people that I didn't know. I ended up being the hired entertainment with my uncle and played some music in front of a bunch of uninterested strangers. I didn't mind though, it was better than standing by the food and grazing to look like I was actually doing something.

Southern hospitality really does exist though. I have never met such friendly people. Everyone says hi if you even barely make eye contact with them and they are all willing to sit and have a conversation with you. It's beautiful here too- a different kind of beautiful, but I like it (probably not enough to ever live here, but I'll enjoy it for the summer). I went on an early morning walk today by Eudora Welty's house and through Belhaven College campus where my mom went to school.

I now have over 15 bug bites, causing me to awkwardly scratch my legs and run at the same time in the morning (it's not easy folks), "ya'll" is feeling more natural, I've given up on wearing my hair straight, and I killed my first cockroach of the summer with my OWN shoe and NO screaming. I've gotten lost too many times to count, ended up in two different counties accidentally (when I was just trying to get to a coffee shop that ended up being down the street a couple of blocks... the other way), but I'm now familiar with the three main roads that I need- I can get myself to work, my aunt's house, and the grocery store without having to do illegal U-turns.

I'll keep ya'll updated as much as I can. I don't have internet access a lot so I don't know how often I'll post, but I've loved hearing from friends, so keep in touch!

From the ole south,
Miss Katherine Joy

I've landed

2007-05-28T15:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

I've arrived in Mississippi- still trying to figure out their dialect. They are an interesting specimen; need more time for complete immersion in this foreign land.

To do list:

1.)Buy bug repellent (I have 3 mosquito bites already), defrizzer (to tame the beast that is my current hairstyle), and bottled water (tap water smells and tastes like grass)

2.) Go on run earlier than 8:00 am- warned by friendly neighbor named Bill that the current temperature is paradise compared to what it is going to be soon. (he says 8 is almost too late for him to be doing yard work...my lungs already feel like I'm breathing into a humidifier)

3.) Look like this by the end of the summer

I am excited to be here and I'm looking forward to what this summer is going to hold. I saw three dead animals on my run this morning... I'm trying not to take that as an omen for what this summer is going to be- no, it's just too hot for little rodents and amphibians to stay alive...right?

All of my family members are out of town for the week, so I'm chilling at my Aunt's house with two overly affectionate cats and a dog that piddles every time you pet it. (If you need a self-esteem booster, these animals will make you feel like the most loved person in the world)
My Aunt left me DETAILED driving directions to get me to the grocery store, video store, book store, and to a coffee shop where I can probably find other hippies...

So before work starts, I'm catching up on my reading, napping, and trying to familiarize myself with Jackson. And to all of those reading this who rightly doubt my sense of direction- I found the grocery store without having to turn around once!
I start at Hospice on Wednesday and I have an interview tomorrow at the restaurant for a hostessing job- the hope is to win them over with my Northerner charm and desperation for a paying job; we'll see how that goes.

Yours Truly,
Miss Katherine Joy

Finished

2007-05-21T10:28:00.000-07:00

I made it through my junior year; I had my doubts along the way, but by the grace of God I am now a Senior!

I'm back in Colorado for 7 days, detoxing from the school year where I plan on forgetting all of the information that I packed into my brain, practicing my southern accent, taking naps that are longer than 10 minutes, and reading the book my Great Uncle wrote called "Christeana's Legacy" (I'm living at his house this summer so this is of course for brownie points).

Side note:

On the trip home, I had some great people watching in the airport. I find that airports are one the best places to people watch (second is the romance section of book stores). You get people from all over the place, some in sweet matching outfits so they don't lose each other, others are sun burnt from vacations they're returning from, then there's the overly stressed out people who explode when the plane is two minutes late. Yesterday was an incredible day to observe facial hair. I was kicking myself for not having a camera, but hopefully I can paint a picture for you. The first was the man in front of me on my first plane. He had a marvelous thick mustache that had the twisty ends that stuck out past his cheeks. From behind him, all I could see were two finely twisted extensions protruding from the sides of his chair. Here's a picture of something similar:

OK, so it's a slight exaggeration...

The second was a nicely shaped handle bar mustache that was quite wide and long. The guy also had sunglasses on (note: we were inside) and was really getting into the music playing in his giant headphones. Exhibit B:

Picture this except a little thicker

The third was a nice neck-beard with huge side burns on a fairly young gentleman. I was impressed by his dedication to grow something like that and with that fact that he was even able to grow something like that.

Obviously this man is a little older... and doesn't have side burns.. and has a way cooler neck-beard, but you get the point.

All in all it was a great day of facial hair sightings.

*End of Side note*

In a week I'll be flying to Mississippi to do an internship with Hospice at their McMclean Fletcher Center for kids who have lost loved ones. I'm excited and nervous, but I know that it will be an adventure. Hopefully I can be somewhat consistent in posting updates here.

Things to pray for:

1.)Adjustment- to southern culture (I'm not really what you'd call a "southern belle"), to my internship, to living with my Great Aunt and Uncle, to weather, etc.

2.)a Job- my internship is unpaid, but I have a potential job at a restaurant in Jackson

3.)Friends- I don't know anyone besides my relatives. I'd like to meet some people my age

4.)Dependence on God

5.)Things to do with free time- I looked up outdoor activities in Mississippi and it appears that my only option is water activities. Apparently people don't go outside; it's something to do with the ridiculously humid weather. So maybe I'll get really good at water skiing and swimming.

So here starts the Mississippi Adventures of Katie; enjoy!

Makings for a Great Weekend

2007-05-07T20:23:00.000-07:00

Ingredients for a great weekend:
1.)Start with a friend's dance performance with amazing displays of talent
2.)Add Spiderman on opening night at the IMAX (more for the shared experience than for the movie)
3.)Start the next morning with a walk to a coffee shop and a stop at an antique store on the way
4.)Add a further walk to REI to enjoy the Anniversary Sale : be careful of excessive drooling over things that you hope to someday own
5.)Throw in a conversation with a seasoned outdoor enthusiast about his life story and adventures to make the REI trip complete
6.) Continue the day with a search for a Cinco de Mayo festival that ends with salsa dancing to a Mexican DJ with waiters named Fransisco and Victor at a Mexican Restaurant
7.) Go to bed fairly early and wake up to run in one of the biggest road races in the country: Bloomsday!
8.) Have a great time running and enjoying the community of 40,000 people that are running alongside you
9.) Enjoy a shocking addition of finally meeting some people that actually rock climb and make friends/climbing partners (hopefully) with them
10.) Hang out with wild middle school students for a couple of hours
11.) Finish the weekend with watching a gorgeous sunset from the roof of your car while catching up with an old friend on the phone.

That, my friends, will be the only thing getting me through this week. I hope you have a weekend as enjoyable as the one that I was blessed with.

My Weekend

2007-05-01T18:58:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I starved the kids that attend my youth group for 30 hours. Put in less brutal terms, we had the infamous 30 Hour Famine where we fast for 30 hours to raise money for World Vision and kids in Africa.

30 Hour Famine always holds some exciting events for me and this year's event was no exception. Two years ago I had kids secretly downing ketchup packets and yelling at me to give them money to buy food. Last year we thought it would be a good idea to do a service project at a homeless shelter during the famine... when we got there they had the kids serve big greasy slices of pizza- They thought we were simulating torture as well as starvation.

This year, the senior high leader had his appendix out three days before the famine, which meant I was on my own for putting it all together.
Everything came together after massive amounts of scrambling and begging bowling alleys to let us rent lanes for our group.
We went cosmic bowling, we danced, we laughed- I bowled about a 70... I have other skills ok?!

Then we watched Invisible Children
As I was sitting on the ground watching the movie, I felt something warm that smelled like tomatoes hit my back.

I got vomited on. Not just any vomit; tomato juice vomit.
Now for those of you who don't know me well, I have a slightly weaker stomach than most- but I would proudly like to tell everyone reading this that I, Katie Skattebo, did not even gag!
This may have been due to the fact that there was nothing in my stomach to even throw up, but that's beside the point.

After that incident, everything went great. We had wonderful discussions about the implications of knowing what is going on in Uganda, had an amazing speaker from Liberia who was a refugee in Ghana for several years come and speak to us, and the kids were challenged to reevaluate how they view their lives and were inspired to tell their friends about what is going on in Northern Uganda.

I went home greasy, tired, and smelling slightly of tomato juice. Was it worth it? I would do it everyday if it meant that these kids would continually have their eyes opened to the world outside of their own. My prayer is that they all will continue to think about what they learned last weekend, and start to take action. Knowledge is good, but it's nothing if we don't do something with it. It's an exciting thing to empower the youth- you would be surprised how much they care about this stuff; they just need someone to tell them that they can make a difference with their voices.

The Blood Giving Saga Continues...

2007-05-01T18:48:00.000-07:00

Dear Ms. Skattebo
Thank you for your recent blood donation. As the time of donation, you were informed that laboratory tests would be performed on a sample of blood collected during the donation. All blood donations are fully tested before the units are released for transfusion.

Testing is not performed on a unit of blood if there is a problem with the sample or with the donated unit. Unfortunately problems occasionally occur. Some of the problems include broken blood samples, blood samples with insufficient volume, shipping problems or units that do not meet quality or technical specifications.

In light of our commitment for full disclosure to our valued donors, we feel it is necessary to inform you that your unit was not tested. ... Please keep attending try-outs and maybe one of these days you'll really make the team. (the last part wasn't actually in the letter, they said the same thing except they said it nicer than that).

I made the cut!

2007-04-25T13:53:00.000-07:00

I did it! I made the team!
I think I was one of their most enthusiastic donors of the day.
That's all...

try-outs

2007-04-24T19:28:00.000-07:00

I'm signed up to give blood tomorrow.

I've eaten a good amount of tuna fish today and I'll go on a short run tomorrow morning.

I'm determined to make the team this time.
They are in desperate need of 0+, so they can't reject me because they don't like me... so I have that going for me!

I'll let you know if I make the cut tomorrow.

2007-04-16T13:26:00.000-07:00

We live in a broken world

I'm watching the news about a man that felt that his only option was to kill at least 32 people at Virginia Tech. What drives someone to that point?

One of the kids in my youth group has a restraining order against her father who was arrested for growing marijuana in his home... He also had a man who was arrested for murder living with him.

I'm meeting with a girl who doesn't think she is worth anything because that is what her father and her brother tell her

I'm talking to a boy who keeps running away because his parents say that the only time they are proud of him is when he's wrestling

I'm telling girls that are twelve-years-old that they need to eat, that they're butts aren't big, that starving themselves isn't healthy --that they are beautiful

They don't believe me- they look at me with empty and desperate eyes

They date eighteen-year-old boys because they think that these schmucks care about them

They don't want to go home because no one cares about them there

It is moments like this when all I can do is raise my hands into the air and cry.

This isn't the way that it should be- What am I doing about it?

"Two guys are talking to each other, and one of them says he has a question for God. He wants to ask why God allows all of this poverty and war and suffering to exist in the world. And his friend says, 'Well, why don't you ask?' The fellow shakes his head and says he is scared. When his friend asks why, he mutters, 'I'm scared God will ask me the same question.' Over and over, when I ask God why all of these injustices are allowed to exist in the world, I can feel the Spirit whisper to me, 'You tell me why we allow this to happen. You are my body, my hands, my feet.'"
-Shane Claiborne, Irresistible Revolution

Dirty Toes

2007-04-05T23:03:00.000-07:00

Today was a wonderful day.
The sun was out, so I went on a walk down by the little Spokane River on some great little trails tucked between the river, pine trees, and some beautiful rocks. Not only was it a day to walk in the sun, it was also a day to walk barefoot.

I hate shoes. I feel like shoes constrict my poor little toes and they just want to be free. Every once in awhile, when it's still cold outside, I'll bust out my Chacos in protest of the bad weather and in appreciation of my feet. Today I had shoes on, but it was time for my toes to get a little dirty so I slipped my shoes off and pranced down the trails barefoot. I had forgotten how good mud and pine needles feel underneath your feet. It was gloriously refreshing.

I found a trail that went right up to the water and sat down to eat my packed lunch with the background music of the river and the company of the sun. I guess I didn't realize how much I was in need of sunshine because I started crying out of joy for the feeling of the warm sun light on my face and the peaceful beauty of the river at my fingertips. I was finally rejuvenated.

To top it all off, I got offered pot by some squirmy little high school boys that found my little river trail.

I didn't accept it, just in case you were wondering. I did wish them a good day and agreed to their request to not call the cops.

Later on, I took a friend to the airport and felt like I was supposed to stop in another neighborhood on my way home. I parked my car at the grocery store and started walking around, praying that God would let me meet somebody whom I could encourage. Sometimes when I do this, I chicken out, don't find anyone, or get discouraged after a little while and retreat back to my safe little world o' comfort. But today I kept walking. I saw this woman who was walking in another direction- I didn't get up the guts to talk to her. I kept walking.
I wandered through the neighborhood and turned a corner to see that same lady sitting on the steps of an apartment building with a cigarette and beer. I smiled to her and asked her how she was. "Eh, not so well." I inquired why this was the case, and she told me that she was locked out of her apartment, left her cell phone in there, and was getting cold and tired. I sat and talked with her for awhile and I was able to let her use my cell phone as I grabbed her a cup of coffee down the street. Her landlord came and let her in and that was the end of it. She said thanks and that it was one of "God's little miracles," and then went inside.

A couple of things learned:
1.) God keeps giving us chances to be His hands and feet even when we feel too chicken to do anything
2.) It's not hard to ask someone how they are doing and to stick around long enough to hear the answer
3.) I'm thankful that God lets us be a part of little miracles
4.) Toes were meant to be dirty
5.) Marijuana is also called "Bud"

Skattebo Family Vacation

2007-03-29T17:25:00.000-07:00

I made it to Colorado for a week of mountains, rest, and some typical Skattebo moments that make every trip home complete. If you know my family, then these happenings will make a lot more sense; if you don't, then hopefully you will walk away feeling like your family is slightly more normal and less chaotic than you thought they were. (Anna, you were deeply missed)

Saturday, March 24th- An hour after arriving home-- Nathan projectile vomits in front of Blockbuster...I offer words of encouragement from a safe distance...trying to hold back my own gag reflect

Sunday, March 25th- Michael is a 7th grade wrestler now. I challenge him to a wrestling match thinking that if nothing else, I'll just sit on the scrawny boy and win.

One minute later my head is between my legs and my arm is behind my neck and I'm screaming for my mommy.

Monday, March 26th- We head to Buena Vista to spend four days in a cabin for some delightful peace and quiet... then I remember that we're the Skattebo family and we don't know the meaning of peace and quiet. We attempted it a couple of times; I remember 15 minutes where everyone was reading and being fairly still- it was a nice experience

Tuesday, March 27th- Skiing.
Mom has never been very confident on skis, so we left her and Nathan to timidly make it down greens together while Claire, Michael and I conquered the mountain.

I ended up taking a fall so hard that I left a huge bruise on my butt... I didn't think that was possible- but this thing is the size of a large lemon. I also ripped my ski pants. (I'm the one in the family that gets the weird injuries)

Wednesday, March 28th- Katie's adventure gone bad.
I set off early in the morning to head back up the mountain for some snowshoeing. You would think that after my experience of going to a concert by myself, I would learn a lesson about doing things solo...I'm a slow learner.

After getting lost three or four times and not being able to find anything with enough snow on it, I thought I would hike instead. I got lost again, and all I could find was a deserted road to walk down. (I'm also the one in the family with an incredibly poor sense of direction) The only redeemable aspect of this morning was the view.

Feeling defeated, I made my way back to Buena Vista and settled for an Americano at a weird coffee shop with heavily tattooed baristas and grunge music blaring in the background.

Thursday, March 29th- to top it all off
Mom, the infamous speeder, got a ticket.

So that is my family, and that is what makes coming home great and entertaining. I'm going to soak up all of the Colorado that I can get until I leave on Saturday- It has to keep me going until I come back in August.

I'm "that kid"

2007-03-19T12:33:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I really like giving blood- it makes me feel like I'm giving back after all of the medical attention that I've received over the years.
There is this pending pressure every time I give blood though. Will they accept mine? Will my blood pressure be high enough? Will my iron levels make the cut?

There have been two times that I have been rejected because of either blood pressure or iron levels and I think I take it kind of personally. I feel like the kid that doesn't get picked for the team; the asthmatic that no one lets play because they keep fumbling around for their inhaler...

My church had a blood drive on Sunday, so I showed up early to give. I walked into this giant RV that had been transformed into a medical center, and began the "elimination process." After filling out the survey and verifying that I don't use needles to take nonprescription drugs and haven't gotten any tattoos in the past six months, we move on to the iron level test. They poke your finger and stick a slide with your blood on it into this little machine.

I start getting nervous... it seems to take so long to calculate. In the mean time, the nurse sticks a disposable thermometer under my tongue to check my temperature.

One point. I was one point away from being eligible to give blood. "Bummer," the nurse says as she yanks the thermometer out of my mouth. "We won't need this anymore."

I was shown the door and sent away with a band aid on my finger and the invitation to indulge in snacks that are meant for people that are "good enough" to give blood.

To make everything worse, I got made fun of by junior high students for not being able to give blood. I'm totally "that kid," the weak link, the rejected.

I've been cut from the blood giving team three times now. Next time, I'm going on a run before hand, I'm eating 3 cans of tuna, and I'm not getting any tattoos.
Maybe I can donate a kidney or something...

Lesson of the weekend: music is better when it's shared

2007-03-11T23:47:00.000-07:00

I'm a fairly stubborn and independent person; if I set my mind to something, I'm likely to go ahead with it even if I have to go alone.

I missed out on going to a lot of good shows this week due to some stupid obligations like "studying," or "night class." The only thing that made me less disgusted with making those sacrifices was the fact that I was going to see Brett Dennen this weekend. But on Thursday I found out that tickets were sold out! The lady at Ticketwest said that if I wanted to, I could go to the show and see if any tickets would open up before the show. I would kick myself if I didn't at least TRY to get into the show- especially after missing so many other ones.

My concert buddy was out of town, my roommate was out of town, and everyone else had stuff going on, so I was going solo. I figured that a good show would do me good, even if I had to go alone. After a long chain of stressful events to try to get tickets (way too much to explain) I found myself sprinting through the streets of downtown Spokane to make it to the door of the venue in time. Out of breath and wind-blown, I asked the bouncer if he thought I had a good chance of getting a ticket. My desperate question was met with laughter and a "yeah, there's room for about 1200 more people." They decided to move the concert into the bigger auditorium! Victory! I got my ticket and joyfully made my way in.

My joy was met with the shocking discovery of what a poor life choice it is to go to a concert by yourself. I found a lone stool and sat...just me and a beer. The place wasn't crowded enough for me to be inconspicuously alone- it was the type of alone where you really feel it. I know, it sounds pathetic and it was.

Luckily, after a tap on the shoulder and a friendly stranger asking me if I was all by myself (a.k.a are you really crazy enough to go to a concert alone) I made some new friends and didn't have to watch the show alone.

All that to say, I love music, but I discovered that one of the best parts about it is that it is fun to share with others. It's like looking at beautiful art, or being outdoors in the middle of breathtaking scenery and not being able to turn and smile at a friend while knowing that they are experiencing the same beauty. I don't mind being by myself, but good music was meant to be shared. In the end, it turned out to be a great show with great people to share it with and I'm glad that was too stubborn to leave.
So boys and girls- the moral of the story is to share. Share the joys of music, the beauty of life, and the silly happenings of our days that make them interesting.

I Feel a Rumble

2007-03-09T17:38:00.001-08:00

Here's the video of Bono's recent acceptance speech at the NAACP awards. The beginning of the speech is not very impressive, but the end gave me chills. The power of rhetoric. This stuff makes me proud to be a Communication Major- words are the catalyst for change in our world, and there is a need for change, my friends

Surrender

2007-02-26T23:31:00.000-08:00

I thought I had things figured out. I thought I had direction for the next few years of my life: finish school-> take a year off -> get Masters in Social Work -> do grief counseling for kids -> and plenty more dreams within that.
But as God likes to remind, I'm not in control and I have no idea what even tomorrow is going to hold. So now there are all of these new ideas and possibilities creeping in out of no where that have been overwhelming my thoughts. I'm so restless and I don't know what to do with it. All I can do right now is pray and listen- my God will not be ignored and neither will his desires for me.

Things to think about:
Am I supposed to live near Whitworth or live in West Central, "the rough neighborhood"
Am I supposed to intern at First Presbyterian after school?
Am I supposed to be a Pastor? (this one is nuts but I can't ignore it!)
What do I do to live intentionally during College? Nothing seems like enough
What do I need to give up?
How do I love the poor better?
What's my role in the community?
How do I serve the kids at church? in those neighborhoods?

To my community outside of Spokane- pray for clarity and guidance. I know that these things might not seem very big, but writing them down here is just scraping the surface of this itch that's in my heart. My life might look drastically different in the next couple of years from what I thought it was going to be.

Lent by Buechner

2007-02-26T23:21:00.000-08:00

Frederick Buechner talks about the practice of Lent as a chance for people to reflect on who they are as a person just as Jesus took forty days in the desert to ask himself the same thing. Asking tough questions of ourselves makes us come to grips with the ugliness and brokeness that is our nature. It can be quite the discouraging process if you ask me. Here's what Buechner has to say about it, "To hear yourself try to answer questions like these is to begin to hear something not only of who you are but of both what you are becoming and what you are failing to become. It can be a pretty depressing business all in all, but if sack-cloth and ashes are at the start of it, something like Easter may be at the end."

How painfully beautiful

Shane Claiborne

2007-02-23T23:23:00.000-08:00

Shane Claiborne, the author of Irresistible Revolution, spoke at my school last night. I wish that I could type out all of the amazing things that he said, but I couldn't write fast enough while he was speaking. Read the book, check out the website: http://www.thesimpleway.org/index.html
and think about the ways that we are living.

If you want to talk about this kind of stuff- living a revolutionary life of love as a Christian and what that looks like, call me, email me, anything. This is what gets my heart going, what fills my daydreams, what makes me look like the crazy woman in the back of a lecture hall frantically scribbling notes amidst tears and groans of agreement... It's too much to write in a blog, but it's important. So I'll point you to the source of my latest restlessness and hope that you find the same aching.

The question is, where do we go from here?

It's a Girl!

2007-02-13T23:48:00.000-08:00

After much anticipation, I FINALLY got my new Kelty Shadow Backpacking pack in the mail! I have been giddy about this backpack ever since I ordered it. It's my first really big purchase in the outdoor equipment department and so I have a special attachment to this pack- like a mother and baby (I'm probably getting some strange looks right about now). It's not the pack itself (although it is a pretty sweet bag) it's what the pack represents- and that, you could say, is the birth of new adventures! The current "brain child" (to stick with the analogy) is a trip in August around Mt. Ranier on the Wonderland Trail with a dear friend. It's a long way off but it is getting me through the stretches of time when I feel like I'm not doing anything adventurous. I remind myself, it will come! Anyways, you might not be as excited about my pack as I am, but you can get excited about this trail, it's incredible. Here's a look into my current daydreams:

Ok, so I don't really dream about maps... it's just a look at the trail itself.

What do you think?

2007-02-03T16:21:00.000-08:00

I was reading this today on the BBC website and they had some questions at the bottom of this particular clip of an article that I wanted to post to hear what other people think about this. Drug companies are doing experimental trials on people in (usually) poor places like Africa to test the drug's effectiveness before it goes on the market. In the case of one drug that was supposed to help prevent contracting the AIDS virus, it ended up doing more damage than good for the 30 women that were undergoing the trial. I don't want to use my blog for my own ranting all the time, so it's open to those who read it; I want to know your take... I would also suggest watching the movie "The Constant Gardener" for an interesting look at this kind of stuff. Here's the link if you want to look at the article and here are the questions: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6319787.stm

Do you think drug trials can be ethically justified? Is it worth the risk if lives can be saved in the long term? Or are drug companies, which profit from any successful new drug, too eager to undertake such trials? Have you volunteered for such studies or would you ever be prepared to?

Moonlight Snowshoeing

2007-02-02T23:37:00.000-08:00

I like snowshoeing, and I like being outside at night, so I got lucky and found out about a trip that was taking people snowshoeing at night- what a catch! The skies cleared up perfectly and there was a full moon for us to hike through the forest of Mt. Spokane. It was a great experience and so funny to see a group of 30 people (I would change that aspect of it next time) from all different walks of life and areas in Spokane be united through a snowshoeing trek for one night only. For some it was their first time doing anything like that and for others they were seasoned snowshoers with their own pairs of the old school shoes that look like tennis rackets. Everyone was able to enjoy the night outing though and talk with people that they would never have the chance to meet otherwise.

There was one thing that really bothered me during one of our stops though. There was this guy that decided that our short break was a smoking break. If the guy wants to smoke, that it his life choice and I won't say anything about that. But when you are in the middle of nature, participating in an outdoor activity, and standing upwind from everyone else in the group, I can't think of many good reasons to pull out a cigarette. I don't really understand how someone can stand in the middle of the forest and be surrounded by that much beauty and peace and not feel some sort of awe and respect for the environment. I know that in the city it is harder for people to understand that it does make a difference if they choose to throw their trash in a garbage can rather than on the road, but when they are out in nature I cannot help but wonder if there is any guilt involved in tainting nature with a cigarette butt. To some this may seem like an overreaction on my part- but that's just it. Maybe we should react a little more often to things that may seem like small details in the big scheme of things. How many times do I walk by a piece of trash when it would be so simple for me to throw it away? I guess I just want to do my part a little better; even if what I think is important isn't as important to the person next to me. That's all... thanks for letting me get that out.

New Beginnings starting with an interesting flight home

2007-01-30T20:29:00.000-08:00

I'm back in Spokane for a new semester. The Colorado skies kissed me goodbye with a beautiful display of pink and orange clouds over the Front Range as I sat in the Denver airport-that just made it even harder for me to leave my state once again. I had aisle seats the whole way to Spokane with seat-mates who weren't too keen on me leaning over them to stare out the window. The guy across the aisle from me didn't seem to see anything wrong with staring though; he stared at me and my book for the majority of the flight. I kept looking up from my reading and making eye contact with him to see if he would say anything, but I guess since he was a fellow "aisle sitter," he didn't have a window to look at either, so the person across from him was his next best option.

When I got to Spokane, I made the discovery that one of my bags had kept traveling without me... I guess it wasn't ready to go back to Spokane either. When the airport people were able to track down the rogue bag, it put up so much of a fight that the handle on one side had ripped off. The airport people felt bad for beating it into submission so they gave me $25 towards my next flight- I think that's more than the bag cost.

My first youth group back had me clinging to words, "God's power is made perfect in our weakness." After the 3 strike policy had to be changed to the 2 strike policy, the lesson had to end early, an i-pod was stolen, and an overall mad house took over, we decided that some drastic changes were in order. The whole format of our ministry has changed; we even changed the night that we meet on. Change is scary. But within that change is the excitement that it will hopefully help things and the assurance that God will still be there and that He will use the change to do what He needs to do. So all that to say, I like scary changes-they put me in my place.

I'm starting new classes. It's like the first day of school all over again. I'll have my new outfit laid out, pack my lunch the night before, call all my friends to make sure that I have someone to sit next to in class... ok so not quite like that, but it's still exciting. I get to read new books, write more papers, and see if my brain has a maximum capicity for how much information it can hold.

So lots of changes amidst a similar routine. Good changes, healthy changes, changes that I'm counting on to provide some excitement to my life. My biggest prayer is for the kids- pray that they do well with the transition and that the ministry meets their needs. I'm adjusting to being back in Spokane and I think I might have even brought a little sunshine back with me. It's come out twice since I've been here and believe me, that's progress!

Mi Familia!

2007-01-20T20:43:00.000-08:00

Thanks to our lovely (and talented) friend Allison Daniell, we got our family picture for this year! Apparently, I accidently put a bad picture on here of my sister, so that picture has now been replaced with another one.

Minor Rant

2007-01-17T11:45:00.000-08:00

Ok, this may be old news to some, but I just found this out and since I feel like my childhoold memories are being messed with, I thought it was "blog worthy."
The beloved show "Sesame Street" was the only kids show in English on TV in the Philippines while I was growing up. Everyday after school I made sure I had a bowl of "Nips" (the Filipino version of m&m's) and a juice box as I joined Oscar the Grouch (my favorite) and Snuffy for a wonderful day on Sesame Street. I still know the characters, the songs, and thanks to the show, I know that 3 comes after 1 and 2. I'm sure we also all remember Cookie Monster's song, "C is for Cookie and that's good enough for me." Well apparently, because of the obesity of the American children, Cookie Monster's tune has changed. Since parents can't feed their kids anything but cookies, Cookie Monster now sings, "A Cookie is a sometimes food." What?! I guess parents can't control what their kids eat so they now need puppets to tell their kids that you shouldn't eat cookies all the time...what a concept. The fact that they have to change the song and that they now have little vegetable puppets running around on the show is testament to the fact that something is wrong with kids today. Kids are becoming more and more lazy and overweight and I don't think that Cookie Monster is to blame. We can thank "Sesame Street" for doing their part in emphasizing healthier eating and physical activity, but it's sad to me that obesity has become so much of a problem that it is the emphasis of kid's shows. I know that I am not a parent and therefore my opinion is not of someone who has raised kids; but I have worked with kids every summer since my junior year in high school and I've seen the effects of too much TV, too much snacking, and too little physical activity. Kids have every excuse to stay inside now and there's no one to push them to play outside because their parents just want them to be entertained. Instead of going outside to play, kids can stand in front of their TV with a remote control and pretend their playing tennis instead of actually playing tennis. A "gamer" wrote the makers of Wii, the new addition to the Nintendo family, to complain that when he played their tennis game, it made him too tired... playing a video game was too much physical activity for him! The only response from the company was, "get more exercise."

This is my plea to America---get kids outside, reintroduce them to the ball, the trampoline, the fresh air, and let poor Cookie Monster off the hook, he's a monster for goodness sake, he's supposed to be chubby.

Carpe Diem

2007-01-09T21:41:00.000-08:00

Death always makes you think about life

The loss of a great life makes you think about purpose

The impact that their life had makes you think about what you forgot to tell them

Their legacy makes you want to keep going

Why do we have to wait until someone else dies to realize that we're still living?

Penny Sanford, the woman who taught me everything that I know about writing papers, died on January 5th. She fought cancer for seven years and was the epitomy of strength. Tonight we gathered to remember her, and there wasn't enough room for all of the people that came. She wasn't a victim of cancer; she didn't let it stop her life. She lived fully, thank God she lived fully, because she blessed everyone that knew her. Mrs. Sanford, you will be deeply missed.

Buenos Tiempos

2007-01-05T22:42:00.000-08:00

I wish I had pictures to post on here of my beloved friends that I've seen this break, but I haven't decided if I'm keeping the digital camera that I got for Christmas yet; so sorry about that.
I am blessed with wonderful friends.

Friends that start off conversations where we left them the last time that we were together

Friends that are gracious towards me and my lack of consistent contact throughout the year

Friends that challenge me, make me laugh, allow me into their lives, and understand me

To all my friends in Colorado, to those who have journeyed elsewhere, and to those who never started here to begin with, you've brought me more joy than I deserve. I'm so very grateful for your presence in all chapters of my life and I look forward to what the next chapter holds.

It is Well with My Soul

2006-12-15T17:05:00.000-08:00

At the end of a long week of finals, I came home to take a nap and have some time to unwind. I opened my eyes after an hour long "snooze" to see an orange glow reflecting on my wall. Turning to see what caused the glow, I was blessed to find a beautiful orange sunset at its peak outside of my window. The silhouettes of naked tree limbs were perfectly framed with the vibrant orange and pink backdrop. It was such a peaceful picture and a wonderful closing to a hectic semester. The only thought that I could muster up as I was watching the sunset fade was, "It is well with my soul." It's so good to know that God can bring that peace after a hard stretch of time filled with growth, loss, weariness, and great lessons. I'm thankful for this semester, happy to see the time pass, and excited about what next semester holds. For now, I'm meeting up with my heart in Colorado for an extended time of rest and renewal.

Blessings,
Katie

Adventure!

2006-12-09T16:13:00.000-08:00

Ok, so it was a pretty small adventure, but none the less, it was great! I just got back from snowshoeing up at Mt. Spokane. It was great to be out in the stillness, surrounded by trees and walking on untouched snow with snowflakes falling on my head. I'm amazed by the beauty of snow. God didn't have to make something that brought moisture to the ground so elegant; something so pure and white that sparkles when the light hits it right. I get so overcome by creation when I'm spending time enjoying it. Taking a moment out of the day to say "thank you," by running around through the woods like a little kid is such a gift. If you haven't played in the snow yet this year (if you have snow around you) then go make a snow angel and lie there until you can join the silence of your surroundings; it's captivating.

Pre teens + snow + little sleep + high energy= great weekend

2006-12-03T19:38:00.000-08:00

We successfully made it through a youth retreat! I'm smelly and too exhausted to have an adult conversation with anyone; but content. I spent the weekend with three sixth graders and an eighth grader from my church along with over 100 kids from other churches in the area running around a camp up near the Canadian border. While this may seem reminiscent of a recent nightmare that you've had, it's what brings my heart more joy than anything else. I find it amazing that when I step back and watch these awkward and loud teens, God teaches me more than I would initially give credit. I'm not as different from them as I think. They are trying to figure life out, figure out where they fit into the picture, striving to understand themselves and understand God's plan for their lives. They may not say it like that, but it's there. They're living and they are figuring everything out one step at time. Behind that flirty girl or that trouble maker boy, is a kid working on growing into themselves. I may be more grown up than them, but there's still traces of that tall and lanky middle schooler that I once was, and I have a lot to learn from her.

2006-11-30T01:17:00.000-08:00

"O God, let me rise to the edges of time and

open my life to your eternity;

let me run to the edges of space and

gaze into your immensity;

let me climb through the barriers of sound and

pass into your silence;

and then, in stillness and silence

let me adore you,

who are Life-Light-Love-

without beginning and without end,

the Source-the Sustainer-the Restorer-

the Purifier-of all that is;

the Lover who has bound earth to Heaven

by the beams of a cross;

the Healer who has renewed a dying race

by the blood of a chalice;

the God who has taken man into your glory

by the wounds of sacrifice;

God-God-God-Blessed be God

let me adore you."

-Sister Ruth (The Oxford Book of Prayers)

Skattaroots

2006-11-27T20:34:00.000-08:00

I decided that it would be more beneficial for me to waste time on the Internet rather than to work on my ten page paper for a long while tonight. During this tangential escapade, I was looking up "Skattebo" on search engines (Don't ask how that came about, it was a long process...), and I came across a trail in B.C. Canada called "Skattebo Reach Trail." I started searching for more information on the trail and found a site that was all about the naming and creating of the trail. This guy named Walter Volovsek wanted to name the trail after someone who was known in the area and that led him to Ole Skattebo a fisherman and prospector in the area from the early 1900's.
Ole Skattebo was a Norwegian immigrant who was in charge of a fishing lodge and was the most popular fishing guide in the West Kootenays. His business went bad in 1935 but he continued to live in a cabin up by the river. He died in 1950 on his way to his outhouse at the age of 96.
This may not be as interesting to anybody else as it is to me, but if you want to read the whole thing, here's the website: http://www.trailsintime.org/?request=walker
People on my dad's side of the family are proud of two things: being Skattebos and being Norwegian, so it's exciting to know that this guy is related to me in some distant way.
So there's a little history lesson for everyone. My procrastination ended in a learning experience for the thousands of people that wait on pins and needles to glean from the ramblings of a Nordic Skattebo's blog.

Norwegian Pride baby

The Itch

2006-11-19T01:10:00.000-08:00

Today I did two things that brought my heart incredible amounts of joy. The first was going hiking by the Spokane River with my friend Erika. The air was crisp and the sky was blue and it was wonderful! Just to be outside, scrambling up rocks and enjoying the scenery made me feel so peaceful. The second joy inducing activity was the Banff Mountain Film Festival! I only went to one night of it but it filled my head with so many wonderful possible adventures. I left feeling restless and antsy to go on an adventure. I don't know if one will happen soon, but for right now, I have some good daydreams to hold me over until I get to play outside. If you get a chance to go to the Banff Festival if it's near you, go, it's great

Oh Beautiful Spokane (aka Spokompton)

2006-11-14T15:22:00.000-08:00

I must say that I am quite proud of the city that I'm currently living in...

For those of you who can't read the fine print, it says, "Sporting Washington State's finest in meth labs, pawn shops, serial killers, wife beaters, mullets, and potholes."

To be fair, I have to admit Spokane does has a lot of beauty too. Here's the other side of the mullet-

The Brain- what a wonderful gift

2006-11-12T00:40:00.000-08:00

Ordering Your Private World quote from Stanley Jones "Swami Shivananda, a famous swami in India, used to tell his disciples: 'Kill the mind and then, and then only, can you meditate.' The Christian position is 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all they mind'-- the intellectual nature; 'with all they heart'-- the emotional nature; 'with all thy soul'-- the willing nature; and 'with all thy strength'-- the physical nature. The total person is to love him-- mind, emotion, will, strength. But the 'strength' might mean the strength of all three. Some love him with the strength of the mind and the weakness of the emotion--the intellectualist in religion; some love him with the strength of emotion and the weakness of the mind-- the sentimentalist in religion; some love him with the strength of the will and the weakness of emotion-- the man of iron who is not very approachable. But loving God with the strength of the mind, the strength of emotion, and the strength of the will-- that makes the truly Christian and the truly balanced and the truly strong character."
I think it is wonderful that God wants us to, and gives us the ability to think, to be creative, to love and feel deeply, to achieve, and to grow. We are blessed with all of these different aspects of His nature that we can only begin to explore; each is just a glimpse of who God is. To not take advantage of exploring those different angles, of developing our heart, mind, and strength, is saying that we don't appreciate God's gift. No wonder we all envy the Renaissance man.

The Curse or the Blessing of Time

2006-11-10T23:31:00.000-08:00

I'm reading this book for one of my classes called "Ordering Your Private World," by Gordon MacDonald, and it's been convicting. It's all about making sure your private world is in order so that you can function in your public world (hence the whole title of the book). We are always fighting time. We are either angry because we are in a good moment that seems to move too fast, stressed because there isn't enough time to get things done, sad because we didn't take advantage of the time that we did have, or frustrated that time doesn't move fast enough so we can get to the next best thing. Busyness is worn as a badge of honor- "You think you're busy, just wait till you see my schedule," we say proudly. I find that when people ask me how I'm doing, my response is never just "good" (which I very well might be) but I always tack on "really busy, but good" at the end of it. Why is that? Has busyness become a part of my identity? I'm figuring out how to restructure my life so that within the inevitable day to day rush of life, I can be peaceful, focused, and move with purpose instead of just drive.
Most importantly, I need to make time for the interruptions in my schedule and count them as blessings. Sometimes the interruptions might be the most important thing that I do in a day- passing them by because I'm busy might be passing by my purpose for that day. I don't want to be the girl that never has time for anyone. My challenge for myself and for you this week is to make time for interruptions and see time as a blessing instead of just a curse.

Let it Begin!

2006-11-10T23:24:00.000-08:00

Hello Friends, I'm excited for the opportunity to share my life in Spokane with you! I hope that this will be a good way for me to keep everyone updated on my life and also have you share your thoughts with me. I'll try my hardest to be faithful in updating it.... we'll see how that goes. So here is the inaugural first blog (cue the wine bottle smashing send off)