Leaves, Pumpkins and Scarecrows…

"I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house.
So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.”
- Nathaniel Hawthorne

The luxury of living in New England, America’s idyllic region, is that you have the privilege of experiencing four distinct seasons. It is now fall and I am engulfed in nature’s beauty. The cool, crisp air interlaced with the brilliant colorations of the changing leaves adjoined with the acoustic sound of autumn offers an aroma that is simply spectacular.

Despite the fact I grew up in New England I had forgotten how marvelous, festive and cozy fall can be. Even though Georgia eventually experiences fall-like weather and celebrates Halloween, it never seems as if the two were connected. I had missed out on observing the leaves turn from vibrant summer green to subtle flecks of gold to entirely red and orange. I also found it curious that, here in NE, the pumpkins, scarecrows and other seasonal decorations undeniably match nature’s pictorial backdrop. With leaves, pumpkins and scarecrows I have rediscovered my heritage and unearthed an intense emotion of contentment. The picturesque ponds, the falling foliage, the serenity of a waterfall; each scene, suffused with color and light, brought me a moment of private discovery and awakened a sense of home.

PAIN, SWEAT AND PACKING

PAIN, SWEAT AND PACKING

Oh you didn’t know that those three words are synonymous? Well, they are; I know this for a fact…

Sometime this summer I came to a crossroad in my life. I had interviewed for two jobs; one in Massachusetts and one in Clayton County, GA. Despite the lack of confidence in myself and the unyielding doom that had been hovering over me for the past year and a half, I was offered both jobs. Now what was I to do? I had to weigh the pros and cons. The Clayton county job was teaching gifted students, in a school that was over flowing with technology, a higher salary, and opportunities for leadership. It seemed like a perfect fit. The job in Massachusetts would get me out of the classroom, offered a higher hourly salary, and I could use my degree but in a completely innovative and atypical way. This job was different and offered a challenge. But it also would mean I would have to move to Massachusetts. Moving to MA would mean I would be surrounded by family and I would not be alone anymore. Moving to MA would mean I would have to sell my house, and inevitably lose money on it. Moving to MA would mean that would not be teaching. Moving to MA would mean I would have to pack up my whole house. Moving to MA would mean that I would be around family for the holidays. Taking the MA job would mean I would lose health insurance for 3 months…After much prayer and contemplation I irrevocably came to the supposition that I NEEDED to be around my family. I needed a change. I needed a new start. This decision did not come without anguish….

I chose one of the leading realtors in the county; however, she was not the warm and fuzzy type at all. She insisted on continually illuminating me on the dismal amount of home sales in the past twelve months. As informative as she was, my brain was beginning to gyrate with angst at all the minor yet imperative tasks that needed attention BEFORE she would show my house. How was I going to get all that done in just a few days? She had someone that could assist me, but it was going impede upon my diminishing savings account. I thanked God the day she left on vacation.

4 days before my moving day, I was eagerly sorting through my valued possessions and endlessly packing my belongings, when somehow, some way, a book shelf, with a TV on it, came tumbling and crashing down on top of me. I was proud that I had fortuitously sold my 19 inch older-than-dirt TV on e-bay and I did not want to renege on the transaction. So, when I saw my e-bay ratings fly off the shelf I automatically put my arms out to catch the shelf, the TV, and all its possessions. Needless to say, I consequently ended up jammed under shelf with my arm pinned under the TV, BUT the TV did not smash and shatter like I had envisioned happening. My arm is now black and blue from the middle of my arm to my knuckles, but I still have a 100% positive rating on e-bay!

I always wanted to know the formula for choosing a choosing a moving day. It seems as if each time I have planned to move, I have picked the wrong day. As with this move, the day I picked was defectively chosen yet again. This time I picked the hottest day of the year. Not only was I lifting, carrying and moving with a bruised and battered arm, sweat was dripping into my eyes and fogging up my glasses so that I could not see a thing. My friend Michael came down and helped me make a Salvation Army run and to deliver my furniture to another friend. The heat was unbearable, intolerable and quite agonizing to say the least. The next morning I had to give my uncle, a born and raised Yankee, bless his heart, a sweat towel to sponge the perspiration from his brow. Now he copiously understands the term “Georgia heat.”

Because of the immensity of the heat I resolved to wear shorts on moving day. This is not a customary practice for me. I was not familiar with this piece of clothing and did not realize that the pockets were not very deep when I placed my beloved red, juke cell phone in my back pocket. During one of my much needed heat breaks I went to the bathroom and as I was peeling my shorts off my sticky, sweaty body my cell phone decided it wanted to cool off and proceeded to jump into the cold, sparkling water of the toilet bowl. What my juke did not realize was that electronics and water are not a very compatible. I am now thanking God for insurance.

Complications, inconveniences and nuisances set aside I feel like I made the proper determination at the crossroad that presented itself this summer. I look forward to fighting with my relatives, the challenges of a new occupation, and meeting my future husband (because he obviously does not live in Georgia). With pain, sweat and packing….my new adventure begins.

Smith-Barnes Choir

Annie

Last Tuesday night Smith-Barnes Elementary School put on a smashing performance of “Annie,” an elementary musical, to a packed house. The crowd was enthusiastic and the cast received a standing ovation.

It all started with an idea and a dream. Smith-Barnes’ own art and music teacher, Charles Clinkenbeard, took on the project with a vengeance. With help from other teachers and the support of the administration, he began holding try-outs for the parts. There was an overwhelming amount of talent that showed up to audition. Mr. C, as the children call him, had some tough decisions to make. After the parts were cast and the stage hands picked, they embarked on their musical journey. Jason Wright, a Title One teacher, took on the role of drama teacher. Zabra Rice, the computer lab teacher, designed and sewed all the costumes. The three spent countless hours before and after school getting the students ready for the performance. The cast and crew worked endlessly on learning the songs, choreography and lines.

The play was performed in the Smith-Barnes cafeteria. The staff had to turn away people at the door because there was no room for them to stand. Annie, a 4th grader, performed by Siennna Chevere, with her enchanting voice gave a stellar performance. The entire cast was brilliant. The play was enjoyed by all who were able to make it into the school to see it.

The students plan to give an encore presentation at the request of Stockbridge Elementary next Tuesday.

SIDE NOTE: Not only did Mr. C have the satisfaction of a job well done, his wife congratulated him by giving birth to their second daughter, 10 hours after curtain call

T.I in the Smith-Barnes House

Anticipation hung in the air. There was a low murmur among the staff. "Who could it be?" "I think it's someone famous." "Why is it such a secret?" Questions arose everywhere. The administration stood strong; they were not telling anyone about their covert assembly. A surprise speaker was to address the students. The classes were scheduled to go to the gym at 10 o'clock, but would curiosity engulf the school before then?

As he walked into the office the staff became quiet (this was an abnormality to say the least) and mesmerized by who stood before them. Most recognized T.I. right away. Some had heard of him, some had no idea. T.I. had come to the school to talk to the students about the value of education. He had to fulfill 1000 hours of community service which was a consequence of making some very unwise choices. From Georgia, T.I. chose to spend a few hours with Smith-Barnes Elementary School.

Before the students were even aware someone famous was in the building, T.I. was already getting gently and affectionately mauled by the staff: "Take a picture with me." "I am next." "My kid will never believe this." Camera's and cell phones quickly appeared. T.I. was pleasant and patient, allowing anyone that wanted to take a picture to stand up close and personal with him. A plethora of flashes reflected off the rapper's eyes as he stood and smiled with each star-struck adult.

Once all the children were inconspicuously hidden from T.I. in the gym, it was time for him to be revealed. It took 11 staff members to "securely" escort him down the corridor, around the corner, out the door, and to the hallway in front of the gym. T.I. appeared a bit nervous yet remained poised and professional. After a proper introduction T.I. nonchalantly took the microphone and waited for the commotion to calm to silence. The students were in disbelief that a popular artist was right there in front of them. The girls were screaming in adoration and the boys were shouting "oh yeah's" to each other. The unsuspecting teachers were in awe. The whole student body went into an organized, ecstatic frenzy.

The minute T.I. articulated his first word, the entire room instantly went silent. You could have heard a pin drop. T.I. told them to try hard in school, pay attention and not to be like him. He would fall asleep in class, not try hard and made it through school by the skin of his teeth. He told them that they could do better in life then him. He wanted them to know that they could be the next Barack Obama or the next Hillary Clinton. They could do anything they wanted, if they tried hard enough. It was not too late, they could turn themselves around. They could become something great. Courageously he let the students ask him questions. They asked him about his grades (in elementary he received all A's), if he was ever suspended (yes, but he was not proud of that), what kind of car he drove (depended on the day of the week), and if he ever had a mean teacher (yes, but the teachers he thought were mean were the ones trying to help him reach his potential). T.I. closed by calling students up to the front to tell what they had learned from his speech. When the first child was called, came to the front, explained what he had learned into the mic and then exchanged daps with T.I., the crowd went wild. "He touched T.I.!!!" "Oh wow!" "I want to do it too!" Hands went flying up with eager willingness to express their new knowledge in exchange for a dap or a handshake!

When it was time to go the students wanted a picture taken with their new famous friend. T.I. kindly and willingly posed with each class as the media specialist snapped a photo for the web page. T.I. seemed tolerant and unwearied by his prolonged visit. He conjured up a smile for each class, allowing each child to shake his hand, dap, or hug him. The kids walked away from him with a new spring in their step and fervor in their voices.

This would be a day that the children would never forget. Someone famous came to their school to fill their minds with hope and high expectations. How often will that happen again in their lifetimes?