The Writer and the Wrench

Every time I listen to “Center Aisle” by Caedmon’s Call, I weep. It’s been fifteen years since I received one of the worst phone calls of my life. I was only nineteen at the time, living in an apartment in Lynchburg with my youngest brother. When the phone rang that day, I picked it up, my dad on the other end. And you just know when things are not okay. There wasn’t time for pleasantries. I still remember the words very clearly: “Beverly, someone in your class has died.” I knew he meant my high school class. The class of 2000. My class. The class of only 14 other students. My family. My mind raced…

This morning I woke up with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. It’s a stark contrast to the mornings I wake up feeling like a 500 pound weight is resting on my chest. Those are the days I feel I can only be thankful for the 150 milligrams of happy to help me cope. It’s hard to keep your heart in a constant mode of gratitude, but it’s one of those attitudes that produces contentment and joy, something the world could use more of. Instead, we are under a constant state of blitzkrieg with messages of items we simply must have. We need to upgrade the old. We need the biggest…

If you are reading this entry, it means that you are one of my faithful subscribers. If you make it to the end, it will be because you’re sitting in a waiting room with nothing else to do, you actually care about me, or you find it a challenge because I’m betting you won’t read the whole thing. Why? Because it’s going to be long. It’s also going to sound like my thoughts vomited onto the keyboard, and I most certainly am not going to end up where you think I’m going. Instead of A to B to C, I go A to -37 to purple fire hydrant. So, where to…

It’s New Year’s resolution time, and that typically means it’s time to recycle my list from last year: Exercise at least five times a week. Eat clean. Read more books. If you’re a task-oriented dreamer like me, you enjoy creating your goals. Nothing brings more satisfaction than making that list and picking the items off one-by-one in front of the firing squad. And if you’re melancholy like me, you will also find yourself feeding your shredder that same list around day 23 as you ride the elevator up to the penthouse of defeat, personal pan pizza in one hand and twitter feed in the other. One thing is for sure.…

Tomorrow is August, and that means school is just around the corner. Have you ever wondered what keeps a teacher from crossing the crazy line of sharpening pencils to sharpening children’s fingers? It’s as simple as a little gardening, and below are the tools to help you have healthy, productive relationships. 1. Start the beginning of the year with a token that lets your child’s teachers know that you are cheering them on. This can be something as simple as a notecard of encouragement or as lavish as a gift. A little encouragement goes a long way, especially when a teacher is overworked, underpaid, and always a pencil snap away from…

If you are an introvert, you know all too well the labels given to you by the “others.” You’ve been called “stuck-up,” “snobbish,” “standoffish,” “intimidating,” and maybe even “narcissistic.” And if you’re an introvert, you’ve also obsessed and agonized over what these words mean, who said them, the tone that conveyed the message, the context in which they were said, what that person was wearing when they said them, if the person is a back, belly, or side sleeper, could you take them in Street Fighter, … But you also know that none of these labels are true. The truth is that you just don’t need people like other people need…

It was my seventh wedding anniversary yesterday and I struggled to find a gift for my husband. By struggle, I mean, the seven minutes I spent looking felt like seventy. Usually we keep it pretty low-key. When we first got married, we went out to dinner to celebrate, but we’ve never really exchanged gifts. Come to think of it, I’m not sure why we don’t exchange gifts. My love language is gifts so I’m pretty sure that wasn’t mydecision. Well, this year I had a little jingle in my pocket and I wanted to get something for him as a small token of how much I appreciate the self-sacrificing man he…

Dozens of student recommendation letters and three thank-you notes. Thank you. Two words that probably top the most frequently used phrases in our language. There are many tones (heart-felt, sarcastic, nonchalant) and modes (verbal, email, text) in which to send a thank-you. My favorite? The handwritten note. When I was growing up, my mom always made me write thank-you notes to my relatives and friends whenever I received a gift, even if I was able to say “thank-you” in person. And then I married my husband. In his family, a verbal thank-you over the phone suffices at Christmas and birthdays. While I’m grateful that there is no expectation on his…

After many years our passion had cooled. But when you died, I discovered the evidence. Lipstick on collars, late night calls, love letters. Receipts and roadmaps. Withered flowers, chess pieces, take-out boxes. All things that made me cry. Signs that all along, I was yours and you were mine.

“For the Record” Silence.The popping of a switch and the movement begins.Round and round and round in the quiet,Until trembling forefinger and thumb lift the cartridge and lay it down.Together, the black groove and needle danceAllowing the notes to escape incarceration.Lifted head, lowered lids,Breath and heartbeat synced.For an hour, here is paradise.Every end comes with the option to begin again.

Teachers make thousands of decisions every day, many of them impulsive. It’s the nature of working with people, especially hormonal teenagers. While you can perfectly plan your day, you can’t control the questions your students ask or the actions they take, most of which call for redirection. And just like that, things don’t go as planned. The problem with making impulsive decisions is that you WILL make mistakes. This is an indisputable fact. I’ve made my share of mistakes, and even with thirty-eight days of teaching left, I will, indeed, do or say something that will cause me to take the walk of shame through the breezeway and to my…

What’s worse than not knowing what you’re talking about?  Standing in front of a group of twenty-five College Board AP English Students and not knowing what you’re talking about. Forget about a bear mauling and devouring me. Some of these kids had me for lunch almost every day. That year, I was on a steady diet of salt water, fresh from my own face. My first year as an AP English teacher came when I started my fifth year teaching. This small town gal didn’t know anything about advanced placement. I went to a school that didn’t even have an honors program. The first time I heard the words “diction”…