One Year Later...

Here I sit, on January 17th, 2011, in the library of school working on planning a unit for my kindergarten class that is months away. As I sit here and plan what I want the kids to learn, what activities I can include, and how many photocopies one is really allowed to make in the library, I find my mind wandering to about one year ago. I fly back through the last semester, where drama, tears, laughter, work and love encompassed me through the four months. I rewind through the summer months where I hated my job, loved my summer school kids, finally got to spend time with my family and spent most of the days hating the cute girls at the gym. I even speed through most of my study abroad experience, past the tears that dustin hunter had to stop as I got ready to leave Italy, past the blogging drama that I created, past my solo trip to Cortona and even past my skiing, skydiving and laundry extravaganzas. Where I land, is in a place of fear.

January 17th, 2010, I was taking my first Italian class, trying to learn a language I had no comprehension of. I was sitting in a class with kids who I thought would be my best friends. I was learning how to say what my name was, when my birthday was and where I was from, none of which were helpful in trying to speak to my host mom at dinner later that night. I was confused, lost and really cold all the time. I was trying to keep in touch with friends at home, while enjoying the moments of joy before the homesickness set in. I was in the midst of figuring out why we got off the bus at one end of the piazza, but had to get back on at the other. I didn't understand the fact that Siena was a circular city, and instead spent much of my time getting lost, eating gelato and marveling in the fact that I, Siobhan Lavery, was in Italy.

It was a time of self-discovery. A year ago I was getting over a boy. I was re-finding the girl I had lost in those months of heartbreak and despair. I was gaining back the strength that had been taken from me due to too many fights in the suite, and too many tears on my pillow case. I was coming off of my first A- in over a year, and trying hard to understand why my parents wouldn't let me petition the grade. I was starting to relax for the first time in months, starting to see that time for myself wasn't just acceptable, but was essential. It was the beginning of a year that I, accidentally, dedicated to loving and nurturing myself. I may not have accomplished that goal everyday, but it was a year ago in Italy that I finally discovered that it was okay to simply make this a goal. It was here that I ate lunch by myself and smiled, that I went on a trip by myself, that I realized how important my friends back home were, and when I realized that no matter how far away I am physically, my heart always lays with my family.

And here we are a year later. I can't say that I've learned from all the things I put myself through, or that life is drastically different. We still have friend drama, but I wouldn't trade the good days for anything. I still cry, although now it's more from laughter than heartache. I still struggle with taking time for myself, although now another voice inside my head fights back saying Siobhan, it's okay. I still miss my family, and will for as long as I am away from their love. I still wish I knew more Italian, wish I could meet that one person who turns you upside down, still wish I could travel more, still wish I could go back to the place where no one pronounced my name correctly for four months.

You could say that I didn't make progress, that I'm still where I was a year ago. I would say, well, clearly you haven't been reading my blogs. Am I the same person? yes. Do I still struggle? Yes. Are there still lessons I have to learn? yes. But as I sit here and write lessons for another generation of students, I realize that this does not mean that progress has not been made, but rather that we simply aren't at the end. I am only 21. I shouldn't be done growing, or making mistakes. The point is, even if I am where I was 12 months ago, no one can take away what happened in between. THe fights, the tears, the lack of boys, the love, the frustration, all that stays with me, tucked away inside my heart. No matter where I may be or what I may be struggling with, that stays with me. You can't take that. No one can. And with that alone, I have changed.

Wishing you a day of love,

Siobhan

All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten

This past week I started my semester of student teaching in a local kindergarten classroom. For those of you who think teaching is easy, think again. I've had people say, "how hard can it really be if you leave work at 3:30?" or "aren't you really just babysitting?". Well let me just dispell those rumors right now, before we get into any true debates. Kindergarten is mindnumbingly exhausting. Monday night, I hit a wall at 7:30. Somehow I managed to stay away from my bed until nine, but it was as big of a challenge as finding the bathroom on the first day of school. By Wednesday, I was able to keep my eyes open through the whole class day, and didn't even yawn during math time. And when Friday came along, I finally was able to stand on my feet and stay awake until 11 (GASP) without even a nap!! Somehow, I built up my stamina.

Granted, I often go to bed earlier than most when I'm not in a classroom all day, but here's why I've found teaching, especially in kindergarten, to be exhausting. They don't know anything. Really. Not in that way that, oh this child isn't smart, he REALLY doesn't know anything. No no, in Kindergarten they ACTUALLY don't know anything. The fifteen minutes it takes to get ready to go outside for recess is because they need help with boots, hats, mittens, snow pants and zippers. Because most five year olds don't understand the point in being warm and putting on clothing when it's cold outside, often a disagreement is also inserted into these fifteen minutes.

Morning Meeting takes about a half an hour, as we discuss the weather, learn how to make tally marks, remind kids what it looks like to sit criss cross applesauce on the rug, and try to solve a simple math problem. Lining up for lunch is another five minute process because we spend time singing a song about how to show you are ready for lunch. We make sure the line leader, door holder and caboose are all in place, that all kids have their hand out to help hold the door, and that they remembered their walking feet and left their running feet behind.

Kindergarten is a lot. It's a lot of reminders, a lot of yelling "SAFE BODY" across a classroom, and a lot of caring. It's a lot of getting band-aids, giving hugs and showing that you truly are excited about the new food that they tried during lunch time. And I love every minute of it. I love the minutes I spend helping a child sound out a word, the smile that spreads on their face when I make a joke with them, the laughter that erupts when a child does something silly. I love the moments when I can talk to a child, when we sit in a circle as a class and share, and when we dance during morning meeting. It's a lot, and it's tiring, and I love it.

My cooperating teacher told me the other day that kindergarten is a grade perfect for an adult who has ADD. You're never on the same topic for very long, and things are constantly deviating from the original plan. And you just have to go with it. What I've seen is not only is this true, but it's forced me to learn to just go with the flow. Things will work out, and if you don't get to everything at the end of the day, it's okay. There's always tomorrow.

So whether it is teaching a child to tie their shoes, or learning how to drop your plans and improvise on the spot, kindergarten is a grade filled with life long lessons. It's not just about reading, writing, math, science and social studies. It's about life, about caring, about learning how to adjust. That's why: All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten truly makes sense. And that is why by the end of the day, I'm ready for a day long nap.

Wishing you a relaxing Sunday,

Siobhan

New Year, New You!

I know, I know, the five of you that actually follow my blog have been reading the same post since halloween, wondering if I ever transformed back into a person, or really if I was alive at all. Well, here I am. Alive, well, and back at school already. Much has happened between halloween and now, but lets focus on the future, namely because two months of events would be a REALLY long post, and no one wants to read that.

As we all know, new years eve just passed. Now that we are in 2011, it is the prime time to make resolutions, to decide how we want to better ourselves and what we want to change. The number one new years resolution that is made is "make this the year to lose weight! make this the year to look your best! be the best you!". And for the first two or three weeks of the year,people buy new clothes, new diet plans are purchased and the gyms are packed. Every year I can think of, I've jumped on this train. I've decided I'll take this year to lose more weight, to look better, to work out every day and to finally look the way I want. I've taken my lack of self confidence, and put it in a new years resolution.

This year, I had two options. I could have gone with the same resolution, or made a new one. It would be easy to say that I wanted to lose more weight, to look better- we all know it's something that I struggled with when abroad and is an issue I continue to try to tackle every day. So it would be easy to make the same resolution. But instead, this year I decided to shake things up.

Seeing as how I dubbed the year 2010 "the year of me" (aka how we had no boyfriends, I did a lot of things for myself and refocused on what I wanted out of life), I decided to continue that theme. This year, my resolution is to be nice to myself. To love myself. To stop looking at what I want to change, and start appreciating what I have. To be more confident in who I am, physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. To stop wanting things to be different, and start loving the way things are.

So here it goes: 2011 is the year of love. I'll start by loving myself, continue by loving all of the kids in the kindergarten class I am student teaching in, take it a step further and love the volunteer work I do wherever that may be, and love the life I lead. I'll love my friends and family, as I always do, and I'll live with that in mind. Maybe love will even come my way- don't worry I won't get sappy, just throwing a wish out into the universe.

Tomorrow morning, as I wake up at 6:20 to begin my next adventure of student teaching, I will say five things about myself that I love. Not to be cocky, but to be reassuring. As I put on my new outfit, I will try and look for things that look good, rather than look bad. And when I look in the mirror, I'll remember that the only way others can love you, is if you really and truly love yourself.

I wish you all a year of health, happiness, love and goodness. Talk to ya soon!

Siobhan

Do Your Best Bear.

Hello strangers of the internet world! I know, I know, it's my fault we haven't been introduced in a while. Between working, sleeping and trying to look pretty it just has been a crazy month. But I figured it would be appropriate to try and close out the month with at least one post, and even more appropriate that I title the blog using the name of my Halloween costume.

That is correct, friends of all ages. I, along with six of my best best friends, are being Care Bears for this halloween. And no, we are not going to make it provocative as most girls do on Halloween. In fact, I do believe I will be covered from head to toe- not to worry mom, I am my own chastity belt. When choosing which care bear we were going to depict, we were not allowed to choose our own. Instead, the other six girls had to decide for us which Bear we would be portraying for the entire student body to see. Others were chosen as day dream bear for their lack of paying attention to reality, fun-shine bear, because sometimes fun-shine bear doesn't know when to be serious, or lucky bear...really because the color was green and that happens to be a favorite for one of our friends. So then it came to me. It was unanimous. Do Your Best Bear. Although not an original care bear, neither was narcissistic bear, it was decided that I MUST have this costume, and that we could all make an exception and add in a younger, less experienced, care bear.

In reality, I don't think there is a care bear that better fits my personality. Because I really do try to do my best. I push myself to my greatest potential and don't accept less than what I know I am capable of. That means a lot of studying, editing and re-editing papers. It means a lot of trying to be the best friend I can be. It means trying to look my best. It means trying to put on the best programs. It means trying to be there for everyone, while also still trying to carve time out for myself. And it means trying to look the part all day, everyday. Doesn't sound so fun and innocent anymore, does it?

The truth is, being your best is hard. It's hard to live up to the expectations you set for yourself, especially when somehow they always seem to be sky high. It's hard to let anybody down, especially when your harshest critic is yourself. And I've struggled with that this semester. Between trying to be the best friend, the best roommate and the best student, I've started to slip through the cracks. I've started to become worn down, tired and a little insecure. Not that my confidence has gone away, but rather that it has started to take little hits every now and again when I can't get everything done that I want. It means I've taken less time for myself, and have extended myself beyond the point that even Gumby could go.

But here's the thing. Do Your Best Baer is a Care Bear. Care. That means I'm supposed to take care of myself. I'm supposed to be careful and mindful not only of others, but also of how I am, how I am doing, how I am holding up. And I haven't been the best at that. So I'll try. I'll try and take five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes a day for myself. I'll try to breathe, to slow down, to relax. Really because that's what Do Your Best Bear would want. Because before he is "Do Your Best Bear", he is first and foremost a care bear. You can't be a great bear if you don't know how to take care.

Who knew that a life lesson could come out of a halloween costume?

Wishing you a day of love-able bears and a safe halloween,

Siobhan

I Pray For You.

Thinking back on the last week, there are a lot of things I could talk about. I could blog about how my schedule has become innundated with activities, how my struggle with my body image has resurfaced, how I celebrated my 21st birthday or how the weather is starting to severly bother me. I could talk about lots of little things, some important, but most trivial. Or, for once, we could put aside the trivial and talk about the one thing that should be on everyone's minds, that should be in everyone's hearts, that should cause everyone a little bit of pain.

I want to break the silence, to break the tradition of putting the big things on the back burner. I want to talk about the five adolescent boys who have all taken their lives within the last week because of being bullied due to their sexual identity. If you don't know the stories, read them. All you have to do is type in the name tyler, and tyler clementi is the second name that pops up. Ironic that after so many shunned him, abused him and ridiculed him, his name is so popular.

We, as a society, can sit here and say that these attacks, these suicides, don't effect everyone. We can say that they were isolated to the gay community, and that it is only the responsibility of that community to react. Sure, we can put all the responsibility on one group's shoulders. Sure, we can continue to lie to ourselves, to our youth, and perpetuate the cycle. Because when we get down to it, these kids were more than just boys struggling with their sexual identities. They are more than just gay, bisexual or transgendered. They are people. They are people who played in the band. They are members of a family. They had feelings. They had dreams. They probably fought with their families. They had good days and bad. They liked certain foods and hated others. They had secrets. They had fears. They had a heart. They had a soul.

And here's the thing. We all have those things. We are all people. Yes, there are labels that are put on us and yes, there are stereotypes that define us. I won't deny that. I do it to other people. But behind those labels, behind those stereotypes, behind those definitions that other people give us, there lies a person with a heart, a soul, and dreams. That is what we have taken from these boys. That is what we have lost as a society. We have lost the souls of five innocent boys who just couldn't find a way to make it in the world. I don't think there is anything more tragic.

So we could put the responsibility solely on the Gay communities. Like I said, we've done it before so why not do it again? Because these boys are people. Because we need to give them the justice and show that we can see beyond their sexualities; that we know behind their sexual identity, something so minute in the long run, that their dreams mattered. That their hearts had meaning. That their souls had wings.

Here is my challenge- it was the same one issued to me. I ask you to take responsibility. I ask you to speak up when you hear prejudice comments, whether it be about race, ethnicity or sexual orientation. I ask you to remember these boys. I ask you to look beyond the labels someone else has prescribed, and to get to know a person. Get to know their soul. I ask you to pray for the families that have been effected- for the lives that have been changed dramatically. I ask you to continue the movement. Because we all have to. If we stop taking responsibility, we stop creating change, and we start losing more lives. We've lost enough. We've lost too many.

My prayers go out to all those affected by these tragedies no matter what community you are a part of.

With love and hope for a better tomorrow,

Siobhan

Would You Like Some Pasta With That Sauce?

About two weeks ago, when reviewing my jam packed schedule of meetings, homework, more meetings and volunteer commitments, I must have seen a three- eight hour space of time when I had nothing to do. "THREE HOURS?!?!?!", I must have said in my head, "What EVER am I going to do with that much time?? I certainly can't use it well and get ahead on all of the work I feel like I am drowning in, and leaving time to cook dinner and actually have time to myself is simply absurd. How should I solve this dilemma?" Luckily, the wonderful employers of Sodexho, our local dining hall service, must have heard my mental cry. They must have been in my head and felt my own, very agonizing, anxiety that had arisen with these extra few hours built into my schedule. And how did they proceed? They sent out an email. Asking for employees. And what did I do? That's right, I responded.

After a half an hour of paperwork, the acceptance of a much too large white chef's coat and the passing down of the worst floppy hat known to man, I became a glorified Sodexho employee. That is correct. I currently work in our very own campus dining hall. Not just any dining hall, mind you, but the ONLY dining hall on campus. Where all the freshman, sophomores and juniors collaborate, with a smidge of seniors who don't want to cook, and enjoy their fancy feasts. What does this mean, you ask? Well, quite simply, when the cute boy that I saw from the weekend walks into Alliot, not only does he get to experience me in this glorified floppy hat, but he gets to examine me as I fill the salad bar and dessert table, or if ever so lucky, dish out his pasta. It means that my professor that comes in for a quick dinner has to do a double take and see if that really is me wiping up the pasta sauce that spilled (seriously people, can we please push our trays a little closer so it doesn't get everywhere?). It means that the faculty, staff and students who I work side by side with on several committees get to see me serve others. In Alliot. In an awful hat.

When I told my mom about this opportunity, her first response was "Dad worked there when we started dating. He stole me cookies to impress me." Apparently it worked. So not only am I following in my Dad's footsteps, but I might even be able to steal food to impress someone along the way. Nice. But those aren't the only perks. Besides being able to wear yoga pants to work and eat a free meal on my break, I get to work with some pretty cool people. It's funny how once you put the coat on, you cross that line. I am no longer the student that they have been serving for four years, but I am one of them. I have to clean tables, serve students and wash dishes just like they do. And I get to hear their life stories as I do. I get to hear about Dave's little three year old daughter, or why Mary hates when people take the full plate of cake (please dont- then I have to go find a whole new one). I get to meet the lady thats been making my salad for three years and engage in conversation. I get to joke around with the chefs. I even get to navigate the back halls and can figure out, finally, where I am going.

Is it the best job on the planet? Probably not. But is it a humbling experience? Yea. It is. When so often I am in the drivers seat, making decisions, its an interesting change to be on the other side, following someone else's order of whether they want four-cheese sauce or meat sauce. Instead of telling them what I need done, they tell me what they want to eat. Alliot may not be the most glorious position, but it has taught me a lot. And it pays. And, at the end of the day when people get over the shock of seeing me in my god-awful hat, I get to chat with a lot of people I haven't seen, and I get to meet new friends.

So I'll stay. I will stay and dish out your pasta. And I'll even ask you how much sauce you want. I'll be nice to you because I get paid to be. Just remember, I still am one of you. I still am a student. And each of the workers? They deserve that same respect. So when you ask for something, ask nicely. Be kind, Smile. Say thank you. I might even add an extra scoop of swirly noodles to your bowl. If you're lucky.

I hope you all have someone to steal cookies for, and someone who would steal cookies for you.

With love drenched in pasta sauce,

Siobhan

The Mess that is Friendship

If I've learned anything over the last three years, it's that friendships aren't easy. They don't come with a recipe or a how too guide, and people don't hand you a booklet saying "here, this is what i like and this is what makes me mad...just follow the rules, and you're all set". Nope. Instead, it takes a lot of trial and error to find your best friends, and even when you do, it's never a truly bump free road.

Recently I've been thinking about how my friendships have evolved since freshman year, especially as I look at some of the new freshman coming in and wondering if they will ever have that dream group of people who truly get each other. I remember going through two, three, four groups of friends trying to find the group that my puzzle piece would fit into. I remember thinking I was the only one who didn't have best friends, or someone who knew everything about them. I remember feeling flawed, feeling like I wasn't good enough, feeling like I didn't fit in.

What amazes me now is that three of the people I now call best friends lived right within my hallway that first year. Literally, across the hall, one door down or a quick walk to the end of the wing. But I didn't see them- I was intimidated by them, or maybe at that point in my journey I just wasn't ready to let them into my life. But those three girls seem to be the thread that weaves through my college career, starting right from day one.

Over the last few years, we all have added, lost and accepted many new people into our little group of friends until, I guess you could now say, we have a dream team. But here's the thing- it isn't always a dream. Sometimes, it more resembles a nightmare. We don't always get along. We don't always see eye to eye. We don't get to see each other every day, and we don't always like each other. There are fights, yelling, stand-offs, crying, and sometimes even name calling. Doesn't sound like a dream right?

But here's the thing. At the end of the day, my girls are there. As I try and navigate the scary roads of boys (ew), classes, my schedule and the black cloud of my future that awaits in just a couple of months, I know my girls are there. I know that I can lean on them to listen to me talk out a boy situation for a good half an hour, just to tell me that I need to do what I knew I needed to all along. I can count on them to take time out of their busy days to come and watch my honors society induction, to watch me on my first day at work (in alliot...its a treat), to text me some encouraging words or just give me a hug. They are there. They have always been there. Do we always like each other? Nope. Do we always love each other? Unconditionally.

So here's my advice to you freshman, sophomores, and maybe even juniors and seniors looking for your "dream team". Stop looking. It will come to you. The harder you search, the more self-conscious you will be and the more you'll stop being yourself and start being whatever everyone else wants you to be. And the "dream team"? It doesn't exist. Instead, it's a big mess of laughter, tears, squabbles, love, criticism, hope, acceptance and dedication. And let me tell you. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sending my love to all my friends, and all those who helped make me who I am.

With faith,

Siobhan