I've been home almost a week now, and all of you know that, but I was reading back through my journal today and found an experience from Washington that I wanted to share.
A few weeks ago I had a very hard morning--some personal problems in the apartment along with difficulties with someone I love very much. Quoting from my journal:
"I had about 3 or 4 breakdowns at work this morning, just couldn't keep back the tears, so I had to go to the bathroom and let it all out.
I almost thought today that I should just leave, that I was being more of a hindrance than a help. But not only could I not bear the thought of being in that apartment, especially not alone, I needed to be with my kids, not only as a way to distract myself, but to receive of their love and give it back, in handfuls, in great sloshing buckets. The kids were especially playful and affectionate today, giving me lots of hugs. As we sat to read a story, Isaac leaned in my lap on the right, Ashley in my lap on the left, and Israel against my left side. I was so comforted and soothed by this. The story we were reading was about color, and how people are all different colors, chocolate-y and cinnamon-y and caramel, and as we were reading I was overwhelmed with love for my little mixed bunch of nuts. Ethiopian and Latino and Black and happy and sad and playful and energetic and careful, all of them, and then I really started to cry, realizing that my time is almost gone, and then they really wanted to know why I was crying, and Israel made the comment, 'My mom cries like that,' which only made me cry more."
When I finally left that classroom for the very last time, Jose called after me--"I'll miss you!" in his sweet way.
These kids, their hard lives ahead of them--I don't doubt that Israel's mom does cry like that, quietly and incomprehensibly for these little kids, whose tears are showy and clearly linked to events. Their lives need to be good--I will it to be so.
I wish I had updated this blog more. There is so much that I learned this summer. So you'll have to take my word for it, that I learned a lot. And you'l have to take my word for it that that love I experience from serving and from working hard brings the greatest joy I'll ever know.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Patriotism
This week we went to the National Archives and saw the original Declaration of Independence, Constitution, and Bill of Rights.
After I finish listening to Condoleeza Rice's autobiography, I am going to listen to David McCullough's 1776. One of my favorite things about being here is all the things I am realizing and learning.
I have long had a skeptical attitude toward the sort of patriotism that expresses itself as American supremism.
David Sedaris put it really well in his book Me Talk Pretty One Day when he said that "sometimes Americans forget that other countries have nationalistic slogans of their own, none of which are 'We're number two!'"
Yet as I've toured Mount Vernon, seen the national monuments, and looked at our ancient documents, I feel, in a deep place in me, that it is true that "the Spirit of the Lord was upon the Gentiles, and the Gentiles that had gone out of captivity were delivered by the power of God out of the hands of all other nations" (1 Ne 13:15, 19). (I like this video.)
You know, I said I was proud of America when I saw monuments and documents, but I've been proud even as I've walked the streets and seen the homeless and the uncaring, as I've followed politics and observed the out of touch and self-serving partisanship.
Why do I say this? Well, it's like this. America is a pretty cool place. We certainly have our mythology and our god-like heroes; yet somewhere underneath the mythology, the supermen, and the arrogance there really is a kickass brand-new idea called America, started by people who were sometimes strong and sometimes stupid, sometimes too partisan, sometimes just and righteous and sometimes greedy and selfserving--who were, in short, human. But I really think they believed in what they were doing. And what they did has become a phenomenon. This phenomenon is not unlike the people who started it: America sometimes does the right thing and sometimes does the stupid thing, sometimes we are generous and true to our ideals, and sometimes we fall preeeetty far.
So despite my reservations, I believe there is a way to believe in America. Not that we are better than everybody else; not that we are infallible. We have promises to keep, and many miles to go before we sleep. But that what we have done here is completely unprecedented, and what we have done here is incredible. And I have a great hope that the "pieces" of the American dream "that are pure and true" will be the ultimate victors over poverty, ignorance, and greed. And most especially, I am grateful that I can be here in Washington D.C. putting in my little part to solve a sliver of our problems.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Fourth of July in Washington
Well, of COURSE Fourth of July in Washington, D.C. was sweet.
On Saturday my roommates and I made a barbeque: ALL by ourselves :) plus a lot of help from some male neighbors to get the grill going.
On Monday we woke up early and made pancakes, painted our fingernails to coordinate, and went to a parade on Constitution Avenue. It was very, very hot.
I ended up having a very long, "deep" conversation with a comedian pot-smoker whose ex-girlfriend and mother of his son is certifiably crazy. We talked about smoking pot, the Plan of Salvation, using the "n" word in comedy (I was against, he was for :p), and the Bible.
At 9:00 we got to watch fireworks. Check them out in this video. I have seen a lot of fireworks in my day (including the ones at Walt Disney Land and the war zone that is any given city in Germany at New Year's but these...may have beat them all. They were HUGE! If you look in this video, you can see how HUGE they were in comparison to the Washington Monument and the Washington Monument is no small buddy. They had squiggly fireworks and sparkly fireworks and booming fireworks that shook the Lincoln Monument, and this video does not do it justice but maybe you can get a flavor of it.
(also: Kiera and I may or may not have heard Josh Groban singing at the Capitol Hill Fourth of July concert)
Afterwards, Kiera, Amanda, Eric and I walked home. Yeah, I can walk to my house from the Lincoln Memorial. NBD.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The benefits of preschool
Time magazine recently did an article that claims a huge correlation between preschool attendance and lowered crime, better education and income levels, and reduced addiction rates among the poor. They claim that spending more money on funding quality preschools would therefore be more effective than things like "cracking down on crime" programs (I guess that means increased police force?).
Read the whole article here.
Today we went outside to the field and ran around.
This involved a lot of the kids "locking me in prison" and a little bit of hot potato with some number bean bags (trying to get kids to recognize that "seven" is the same as "7" or "three" the same as "3"). It involved some writing our names in the dirt and it also involved rainbow ribbons and twirling them in the air while catching bubbles.
Visually, it looked and felt like this, because the sky was so blue and the ribbons so bright.
While running after one of my little girls to tag her with the ribbons, and she was giggling so hard, I was just...grateful. Grateful that I came here and that she knows me and that I know her.
This particular little girl loves to "paint" my fingernails and put on "eyeshadow." She can shake her what her momma gave her like a little Shakira. This morning she was crying after she was dropped off and I just put my arm around her and held her. Then we read a book about spaghetti. She thinks it's hilarious to tell me how Isaac's got a giiiiirlllllfriennnnnnd. She can write her name almost perfectly.
"Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged of man."
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Why and How Things are Better
In my last post, I talked about a lot of the things that are wrong.
A couple of weeks ago I was very, very close to going to Kyieda (the coordinator for Jumpstart) and telling her that I couldn't take this anymore.
But I knew I needed to at least try to discuss my concerns with my classroom teacher before going to Kyieda.
I find my teacher pretty intimidating (I don't like being yelled at from across the room "Uh uh! Don't do that!" on a regular basis). And she seems constantly stressed out.
But I did talk to her, which accomplished a couple good things:
-communication. is ALWAYS. good. I understand her vision a lot better.
-she suggested that I start coming in at 8am instead of 9am--which has been like a magic pill.
It is like this because now I have almost a whole hour (at least half an hour) where my teacher isn't there and where the kids are just playing in their centers. This is my time. In this time, I can work with the kids on writing their names (as she asked me to do), or work on social-interaction skills (sometimes using dinosaurs) or logical thinking (with puzzles or building towers). I don't feel like she's breathing down my neck and I don't feel like I'm intruding or trying to change the day's schedule. I can still help out with classroom management and the other routines of the day (which she desperately needs, since her assistant has been gone the majority of the time I've been here) but I have some of the day now that is mine and mine alone to control.
I was also able to take on some projects for her as far as re-doing some of the labels in the classroom (labeling things is a great way to encourage literacy and alphabet awareness in a preschool classroom) which also helps me feel like I own the space a little more.
I know these seem like small things, but I'm grateful that they had the effect in my psychology that I needed. I'm happy again. Overwhelmingly happy, again, like I usually am.
A couple of weeks ago I was very, very close to going to Kyieda (the coordinator for Jumpstart) and telling her that I couldn't take this anymore.
But I knew I needed to at least try to discuss my concerns with my classroom teacher before going to Kyieda.
I find my teacher pretty intimidating (I don't like being yelled at from across the room "Uh uh! Don't do that!" on a regular basis). And she seems constantly stressed out.
But I did talk to her, which accomplished a couple good things:
-communication. is ALWAYS. good. I understand her vision a lot better.
-she suggested that I start coming in at 8am instead of 9am--which has been like a magic pill.
It is like this because now I have almost a whole hour (at least half an hour) where my teacher isn't there and where the kids are just playing in their centers. This is my time. In this time, I can work with the kids on writing their names (as she asked me to do), or work on social-interaction skills (sometimes using dinosaurs) or logical thinking (with puzzles or building towers). I don't feel like she's breathing down my neck and I don't feel like I'm intruding or trying to change the day's schedule. I can still help out with classroom management and the other routines of the day (which she desperately needs, since her assistant has been gone the majority of the time I've been here) but I have some of the day now that is mine and mine alone to control.
I was also able to take on some projects for her as far as re-doing some of the labels in the classroom (labeling things is a great way to encourage literacy and alphabet awareness in a preschool classroom) which also helps me feel like I own the space a little more.
I know these seem like small things, but I'm grateful that they had the effect in my psychology that I needed. I'm happy again. Overwhelmingly happy, again, like I usually am.
Disclaimer post
Just as disclaimer:
-I will not ever include the actual names of children that I teach (when necessary, pseudonyms are applied)
-nor any of the names of specific teachers in the school.
-nor post the name of the actual school.
-Similarly, I will never post pictures of any of the children, teachers, or the school
This is to protect their privacy.
Any criticism I may voice about the school, school administration, or individual teachers is an expression of my personal opinion and an attempt to share my personal experience honestly. I try to maintain a healthy balance of criticism and praise, but in case this balance is not always met, please be aware that I do have the highest regard for this school and these teachers and the incredibly challenging task both teachers and administration face.
Also, I may make some observations about race or low socioeconomic status families that may seem politically incorrect. This is only my attempt to honestly explore the meaning of human interaction and my experience in Washington D.C. Not all of my observations are correct; many are surely biased. That is why I am here--to explore and overcome my personal biases and to learn to clearly understand the problems America faces through my own trial and error.
-I will not ever include the actual names of children that I teach (when necessary, pseudonyms are applied)
-nor any of the names of specific teachers in the school.
-nor post the name of the actual school.
-Similarly, I will never post pictures of any of the children, teachers, or the school
This is to protect their privacy.
Any criticism I may voice about the school, school administration, or individual teachers is an expression of my personal opinion and an attempt to share my personal experience honestly. I try to maintain a healthy balance of criticism and praise, but in case this balance is not always met, please be aware that I do have the highest regard for this school and these teachers and the incredibly challenging task both teachers and administration face.
Also, I may make some observations about race or low socioeconomic status families that may seem politically incorrect. This is only my attempt to honestly explore the meaning of human interaction and my experience in Washington D.C. Not all of my observations are correct; many are surely biased. That is why I am here--to explore and overcome my personal biases and to learn to clearly understand the problems America faces through my own trial and error.
It's a been a while: Challenges
Unfortunately, I have not been as on top of this blog as I would have liked.
June was not a very easy month for me, and I spent much of the time being tired or frustrated.
But for a couple of weeks now, things have been looking up.
Let me tell you first what I hoped or expected my experience to be:
I expected (and hoped) (and looked forward to):
-to pull one or two children out into the hall and spend time reading with them or working on the alphabet
-to be working somewhere that looked kind of like a regular elementary school with regular school hours
-for the children to be significantly below age-level for reading and language and to find it difficult to motivate them or help them understand. This was probably what I expected to be the hardest.
-to be able to communicate well with my teacher and get to know a lot about her
-to have a lot of fun times playing outside or playing in centers with the kids
Well, want to know something funny?
Not a single one of my expectations came true.
I was expecting this to be hard--but I was not expecting to feel
frustrated
useless
displaced
or undermined by the adults
The school is actually:
-structured a little more like a daycare
-constantly understaffed
-most of my time and energy went into helping maintain classroom control, going to and from the bathroom, getting ready for lunch, eating lunch, cleaning up after lunch, etc
-I was never really sure what my teacher really needed me to do and never felt that she wanted me there
-any opportunity for one-on-one time with the kids usually resulted in me feeling that I had intruded into the teacher's plans
-sometimes my teacher would leave the classroom or wouldn't show up for a few hours--expecting the kids to sit silently on the carpet waiting for her to return (let me tell you what, this does NOT work for four year olds), or leaving them in the charge of an adult who either didn't care to maintain a lot of control or didn't how to
-which often meant that me, being proactive, would jump in and try to maintain control--often with great results as far as the kids went, but isolating the adults
-I find the classroom management style VERY different from what I consider appropriate--and I spent WAY too many days/weeks trying to prove to the adults that I could do it their way in order to gain their respect. Big mistake.
So that was my first month. As I said, things have begun to look up--but that's for a different post.
June was not a very easy month for me, and I spent much of the time being tired or frustrated.
But for a couple of weeks now, things have been looking up.
Let me tell you first what I hoped or expected my experience to be:
I expected (and hoped) (and looked forward to):
-to pull one or two children out into the hall and spend time reading with them or working on the alphabet
-to be working somewhere that looked kind of like a regular elementary school with regular school hours
-for the children to be significantly below age-level for reading and language and to find it difficult to motivate them or help them understand. This was probably what I expected to be the hardest.
-to be able to communicate well with my teacher and get to know a lot about her
-to have a lot of fun times playing outside or playing in centers with the kids
Well, want to know something funny?
Not a single one of my expectations came true.
I was expecting this to be hard--but I was not expecting to feel
frustrated
useless
displaced
or undermined by the adults
The school is actually:
-structured a little more like a daycare
-constantly understaffed
-most of my time and energy went into helping maintain classroom control, going to and from the bathroom, getting ready for lunch, eating lunch, cleaning up after lunch, etc
-I was never really sure what my teacher really needed me to do and never felt that she wanted me there
-any opportunity for one-on-one time with the kids usually resulted in me feeling that I had intruded into the teacher's plans
-sometimes my teacher would leave the classroom or wouldn't show up for a few hours--expecting the kids to sit silently on the carpet waiting for her to return (let me tell you what, this does NOT work for four year olds), or leaving them in the charge of an adult who either didn't care to maintain a lot of control or didn't how to
-which often meant that me, being proactive, would jump in and try to maintain control--often with great results as far as the kids went, but isolating the adults
-I find the classroom management style VERY different from what I consider appropriate--and I spent WAY too many days/weeks trying to prove to the adults that I could do it their way in order to gain their respect. Big mistake.
So that was my first month. As I said, things have begun to look up--but that's for a different post.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Week 1: Mount Vernon and Old Town Alexandria
A few weeks ago we went to Mount Vernon, George and Martha Washington's estate.
I developed a crush on George Washington. What a cool man!
I developed a crush on George Washington. What a cool man!
me and my roommates outside his house.
The reasons why I like George Washington:
-He is an awesome republican. Yeah small government!
-He sacrificed his own self interest for the best interest of the country, refusing to be a dictator.
-He is a military genius.
-He was a genius farmer!
-He encouraged religious tolerance.
We also discovered Old Town Alexandria, which has a lot of adorable shops, including The Christmas Attic, which sells all sorts of beautiful Christmas trinkets all year round and makes me happy in a Christmas way.
Kiera and I sitting on the Potomac river dock at Old Town.
The Potomac is disgusting (polluted enough, apparently, that it's causing fish to change their sex) but it sure does look pretty, especially as we drive over it especially when you drive over it on the Yellow Metro Line.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Week 1: Training
Our AmeriCorps Jumpstart Training was done at Catholic University of America, which happens to feature this incredible beautiful church (shrine...cathedral...). Possibly THE most beautiful Catholic building I have ever had the chance to enter, and I've been in a lot.
That last bit was my favorite part.
This is my hope for the summer, actually, encapsulated in one somewhat hokey swearing in ceremony.
The actual training--I will spare you a lot of the details. I found some parts intensely fascinating and applicable to all parts of my life from teaching children to interpersonal relationships to God......and some parts were painfully repetitious. But I guess that's typical of a training.
Topics included child development, ethics, classroom management, and the working poor. Did you know that 82% of the working poor are single mothers? Did you know that they decide how many prisons to build based on 4th grade reading scores? Did you know that by age 48 months poor children will only have had 20 million unique experiences with new vocabulary, and professional class children 50 million? Vocabulary is a high indicator of later success. The crisis and inequality in education begins in early childhood. So maybe I can lend a hand.
NONE of the photos I took even come close to capturing the beauty, majesty, and peace that I felt as I was here, the upward turning of my thoughts, the quiet and the coolness in my body and my soul. But this flickr photographer got kind of close. Make sure you check out the "Helping Hand" picture, which features a shot of the creation mosaic. Stunning. In real life it's probably wider than the square feet of the roof of my house.
So what I didn't realize when I signed up for this Jumpstart thing that I am actually an AmeriCorps volunteer--well, I did realize it, but I didn't realize the extent of what that meant.
AmeriCorps, I now know, is basically the Peace Corps....but just for America, instead of the world at large So as part of our training we were "sworn in" as AmeriCorps volunteers, and I actually kind of liked it:
Read the whole thing here: The AmeriCorps Pledge
I will get things done for America -
to make our people safer,
smarter, and healthier....
Faced with apathy,
I will take action.
Faced with apathy,
I will take action.
I am an AmeriCorps member,
and I will get things done.
That last bit was my favorite part.
This is my hope for the summer, actually, encapsulated in one somewhat hokey swearing in ceremony.
The actual training--I will spare you a lot of the details. I found some parts intensely fascinating and applicable to all parts of my life from teaching children to interpersonal relationships to God......and some parts were painfully repetitious. But I guess that's typical of a training.
Topics included child development, ethics, classroom management, and the working poor. Did you know that 82% of the working poor are single mothers? Did you know that they decide how many prisons to build based on 4th grade reading scores? Did you know that by age 48 months poor children will only have had 20 million unique experiences with new vocabulary, and professional class children 50 million? Vocabulary is a high indicator of later success. The crisis and inequality in education begins in early childhood. So maybe I can lend a hand.
Week 1: Thoughts about Race and Color
on Thursday we had our first day in the classroom, just an hour to observe, which, for various reasons, turned into me semi-running the classroom.
I was sitting on the floor with the children crowded around me, 4 and 5 year olds preparing for kindergarten. They are like flowers to sunlight with positive attention, just craving it and absorbing it and humbly demanding it in any way they can.
All those little hands, just touching me.
One little girl asked me, "what happened to your nose?" (why is it that little kids always want to know where your various injuries came from?) I think she was referring to my sunburn. I told her, "my skin's kinda pale and sometimes when i'm in the sun, it'll turn pink." "PINK?" All the kids were shocked.
So I rolled up my sleeve and showed them the worst of the sunburn, on my shoulder, which is indeed a rosy pink. They were delighted, and seized my hands, pointing to the soft pads of my hands. "Look! It's pink here too! It's pink!"
Then they wanted to tell me about their skin, and wanted to know what color I thought it was. Brown, dark brown, light brown, tan.
I have no idea if any of them have been that close to a "pink" person before. All their teachers are black or Middle Eastern. All of the kids are black (one or two Hispanics).
I noticed something about myself, and that is that I am in fact a little bit racist. Lord, forgive me. But it is true :)
Not with kids...I never have thought that a child is substandard or different in any way cuz of their color, but I have some weird ideas about black adults that are entirely subconscious.
The childcare center where I am working is actually located just off of U Street, which used to be, back in the days of segregation, the only place blacks could go for entertainment. The only "black" bank, the only "black" theatre is on that street. When Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, U Street swarmed with black rioters.
These days it is a popular and renowned place for high end housing and entertainment for all kinds of people.
Our Howard university partner students are all black, and so is my program director, Kyieda. I have really enjoyed getting to know them. Kyieda is phenomenal (and very pregnant). Thank goodness, they are redefining my understanding of who is black, and what it means to be black, and what it means for me to be white around them.
I was sitting on the floor with the children crowded around me, 4 and 5 year olds preparing for kindergarten. They are like flowers to sunlight with positive attention, just craving it and absorbing it and humbly demanding it in any way they can.
All those little hands, just touching me.
One little girl asked me, "what happened to your nose?" (why is it that little kids always want to know where your various injuries came from?) I think she was referring to my sunburn. I told her, "my skin's kinda pale and sometimes when i'm in the sun, it'll turn pink." "PINK?" All the kids were shocked.
So I rolled up my sleeve and showed them the worst of the sunburn, on my shoulder, which is indeed a rosy pink. They were delighted, and seized my hands, pointing to the soft pads of my hands. "Look! It's pink here too! It's pink!"
Then they wanted to tell me about their skin, and wanted to know what color I thought it was. Brown, dark brown, light brown, tan.
I have no idea if any of them have been that close to a "pink" person before. All their teachers are black or Middle Eastern. All of the kids are black (one or two Hispanics).
I noticed something about myself, and that is that I am in fact a little bit racist. Lord, forgive me. But it is true :)
Not with kids...I never have thought that a child is substandard or different in any way cuz of their color, but I have some weird ideas about black adults that are entirely subconscious.
The childcare center where I am working is actually located just off of U Street, which used to be, back in the days of segregation, the only place blacks could go for entertainment. The only "black" bank, the only "black" theatre is on that street. When Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, U Street swarmed with black rioters.
These days it is a popular and renowned place for high end housing and entertainment for all kinds of people.
Our Howard university partner students are all black, and so is my program director, Kyieda. I have really enjoyed getting to know them. Kyieda is phenomenal (and very pregnant). Thank goodness, they are redefining my understanding of who is black, and what it means to be black, and what it means for me to be white around them.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Memorial Day Weekend (Obama-rama)
Memorial Day Weekend was absolutely the coolest time to be in Washington D.C. Sunday night we went to a concert on the lawn of the Capitol featuring Gary Sinise and some other guy along with a bunch of really cool singers. They alternated music with personal stories of people who had lost loved ones in war and people who had experienced debilitating injuries.
You all know my somewhat hesitant attitude to war and the military, but people have paid enormous sacrifices simply for the sake of our national interests. Many have been incredibly brave and honorable at great personal cost.
We spent a lot of time this weekend visiting places like the Washington Monument, the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial, and Arlington National Cemetery, just to name a few. My favorite part was the wreaths, poems, notes, pictures and beer cans that, yes, adorn the memorials all year round, but flourish in profusion on Memorial Day.
And okay, the moment I know you have all been waiting for--how I saw Barack Obama (I started the title of my blog as kind of a joke long before I thought I would actually see Obama, but I think I'll keep it for a while, because it makes me smile).
So, my roommates really, really wanted to go to the wreath-laying ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Solider on Monday...I thought it would be cool, but mostly I just went along for the ride. Well, somewhere in there, somebody found out that BARACK OBAMA was gonna be there and talk to us!!!
You all know my somewhat hesitant attitude to war and the military, but people have paid enormous sacrifices simply for the sake of our national interests. Many have been incredibly brave and honorable at great personal cost.
We spent a lot of time this weekend visiting places like the Washington Monument, the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial, and Arlington National Cemetery, just to name a few. My favorite part was the wreaths, poems, notes, pictures and beer cans that, yes, adorn the memorials all year round, but flourish in profusion on Memorial Day.
Most of the notes were memories of loved ones, some were poems urging greater patriotism, some (mostly at the Vietnam memorial) reprimanded America and reflected bitterness in the wake of how soldiers were (are) treated post-war. I liked thinking about the people whose stories were for just a moment visible.
So, my roommates really, really wanted to go to the wreath-laying ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Solider on Monday...I thought it would be cool, but mostly I just went along for the ride. Well, somewhere in there, somebody found out that BARACK OBAMA was gonna be there and talk to us!!!
This is about where we were sitting. Maybe like 500 people there? Not too many.
So we got there around 8.30 in the morning, sat in the hot hot hot sun for about 2 hours and got a really bad sunburn, just to get a picture of this:
that's Michelle Obama in the blue dress in the middle.
I really don't mean to downplay how cool it was. My roommates have a couple much sweeter pictures where you can see Barack MUCH clearer, unfortunately my camera is not that good. Yes, it was very hot. But the ceremony was heartfelt, and I really thought it was cool to see the First Couple my first week in Washington.
Welcome to Washington D.C.
Washington D.C.....my roommates and I as we are round about town and see the Washington Memorial, or the Capitol, or ride the Metro, are prone to start exclaiming, We are in WASH-ING-TON DEEECEEE! Because guess what guys? We are.
my adventures so far have included a nice bout of extreme homesickness and second-guessing (typical), buffered by loving texts, Facebook messages, and phone calls from family and friends. The first few days also included a trip to the Smithsonian with two of my five roommates (the roll call of roommates: Amanda, Sarah, Michelle, Kiera, and Anna. Two are Elementary Education majors, the rest of us are Communication Disorders).
At the Smithsonian we saw airplanes and spaceships, birds that can dive and swim underwater, caterpillars turning into moths, and LOTS AND LOTS OF BONES. You guys know that I am obsessed with anatomy. And Wendy and Diane can tell you that I LOVE Steven Jenkin's Bones book, and I would always try to sell it to people when I worked at the bookstore.
Check this guy out! It is a REAL DEAD ARMADILLO SKELETON! Look at its bony plate that extends over his body! Check out those tarsals! That rib cage! Those vertebrae! Mammals are amazing!
(my roommates are slowly learning how to respond to my nerd moments.)
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