Showing posts from April, 2019


The art of procrastinating. 
Few of my kids think they can talk and get their work done at the same time. No.  You’re not turning in high-quality writing at the end of the period. So, no, you cannot—at least, not yet. They were pissed with me for being so brutally honest. But hell, I’m pissed, too. I’m furious about the fact that I can teach my heart out during a mini-lesson, check for understanding, release the class to work independently, and they choose to socialize instead of putting 100% of their energy into completing their task. 
But the more I reflect, the more I empathize with their propensity to get off task. This school year has been a year of the humblest level creative block, in the classroom and on social media. Nothing felt good enough to publish to me. Everything made me question my purpose, my voice, my art, my intention, my desired-outcome. 
Each critical question made it harder and harder to complete tasks, to the point where I didn’t finish my Model portfolio on time. N…


Do you know What it feels like to be loved by the “world” But hated in real life?
Yea, neither do I. 


Seasons changing. I love this feeling. 


I am making progress!


Giving you so much less and so much more, at the same time.
It’s 2:34AM. I am up, procrastinating, with permission. 
I just figured out, my habits of productivity are most effective when I give myself time to play during a work session. My steps are to start, focus, finish, play, and repeat. I love it. 
During my first creative play session, tonight, I worked on a passion project. It’s a writing piece that I’ve been taking slow since I started back in 2016. 
During my second session, which is this one, I’m publishing the very blog post you’re reading. 
The norm I am allowing myself to stick to is to work on one creative idea per session. I want to avoid over-producing because then, I’ll be increasing my risk of procrastinating. This was a trend I learned about myself after analyzing the personal work/procrastination chart that I made to monitor my progress. I would do any and everything but my actual task for hours and days!! I thought IG was my issue, so I cut it out. That didn’t work. Th…


If you find yourself revisiting something that happened, snap out of it and remain present. 
Traffic is heavy but you have no choice but to go forward on the highway. 
Long pauses give you time to breathe. 


What happens when we are intentional and proactive with our words. For instance, I always tell my students,“Stop talking, _______.”  And they normally rebuttal, “I’m not the only one talking!”
It is normal to feel embarrassed and ostracized when we are called out on our sh’t—adults, children, even pets experience this discomfort at various points in their lives. Lately, I’ve been wondering how much control I have over the responses that are triggered within my students when I am not being impeccable with the choice of my words. Will the instrinsic motivation of our students rise if we increase  intentionality? 
What if I say, “If your name starts with a letter between A through Z, stay engaged.”
What do you notice?
•It is indirect  •It may prompt students to pause and think before responding  •It avoids negative words e.g., stop, don’t, no •It invites students back into the learning zone
I am going to do some research to back my theory over my Spring Break. Then, I’ll sketch an implementation plan.…


I’ve come back to my blog because it’s a smaller audience than Instagram, etc. I like it here. Not too many people read it, just enough for those moments when I forget I am a writer and someone says, “I read that post you wrote and I feel you!!” That’s all I need. A little praise and a listening eye. I need an audience that I can trust. To read my blog is to read my public diary. The thing is, I never really considered my audience before—except for the kids, I don’t think about who is reading my vignettes when I am typing. I just flow. I go into a space of reflection and I float there with my head back and my eyes sewn to the world so that I can just breathe on the keys. 
But not posting publicly has taught me that I do enjoy getting feedback on my craft—but in order to receive, I have to give of myself. I have to share. I vibrate toward my highest self when I learn from my vulnerability. 
Grateful hearted, learning to be humble, not letting bruises kill me because I know they heal.


I don’t care about most of the things I used to care about because I know none of those things are real. 

My ideal life would be to wake up in warm weather and take children outdoors to explore, read, create, share, and reflect. I did that with one of my classes, today. Not all were ready but they are getting there. 
I am, still.