A photo essay love letter to my sister upon the occasion of her 27th birthday

Today I was at the chiropractor, and he asked me if I had any special plans for the weekend.

"It's my sister's birthday, so we're having a party," I said.

"How old is she turning?" he asked.

"Uh..." thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking WHAT?! it can't be!!! "...27."

So here's to 27 years of -
beauty
struggle
stealing the blanket
sneaking into my bed
throwing up on me
holding my hand
going to coffee
walking your baby, my dog
licking suika ice
pulling out ingrown hairs
playing Stratego
shopping downtown
wearing matching outfits
mending my clothes
inspiring me
eating beignets and olie bollen
switching opinions on whipped cream
fighting over a hairbrush
threatening to open the bathroom door
sending hints of desperation
building an igloo
reading stories in bed
tagging along
crying at each other's weddings
(reading the same poem)
plucking each other's eyebrows
holding steady
holding tight
- here's to 27 years of love

Here's my "in this moment, I swear we are infinite" photo, although a) you still need to read the book and watch the movie! (just reading this inspires me to do both again in one night; my love affair may never end), and b) we need to continue these moments as we age (I don't mean to imply they only happen to teenagers).

At Universal Studios, after we went with Grandma and she got all soaking wet.

Because I stumbled across this, and it demanded to be seen again

All those years of coordinating outfits

To our perfected sleeping-in-cramped-spaces position, and all the times of annoyance and bonding that created this method and flowed from it

Hoshiiiii

This photo has so many reasons. 1) Our fabulous hair. 2) In the comments, Mom is shocked to discover I ever had bangs. 3) Dad's eternal Pepsi flavor quest. 4) Selfie wins.

I'm still holding out on making a horror movie together.

Because WHY?! Why did we take this photo? To highlight a candy? To all the entertainment we got from photographing ourselves. And this is the same day I found toilet paper under your tights! Good memories.

Mouth of Sauron

Sugar love

I know these photos aren't all the most beautiful. They aren't the ones you adorn your walls with. But they are the moments that capture for me a lifetime ahead and a lifetime behind of my best friend and sister. Because all the moments weren't perfect (and not perfect moments are a lot worse than a little drool or squinting eyes), but we got through them together. I love you, dearest Caitlin. 

Still good to be had

Today a student asked me, "Why can't we have a debate team?"

Me: "You could, you'd just have to ask a teacher to lead it."

Student A: "Why can't you do it?"

M: "Well, it's a little late to start this year, and I won't be here next year."

Student B: "YOU'RE LEAVING?!?!"

(Side note: Yes, I had told them before, months before, back in the fall, apparently when it didn't matter nearly as much.)

Student C: "You can't leave us! Where are you going?"

M: "To Oregon."

SB: "What's in Oregon?"

M: "My sister and her husband and her little baby."

SC: "But we're here."

M: "Y'all complain all the time when I make you do work, and now you're complaining that I won't be around to make you do work anymore."

SB: "Yes, but you actually teach us!"

SC: "I'm too upset. I'm not talking to you anymore."

We have 6 weeks left at school here (28.5 days, to be precise), and sometimes I hang out on that countdown a little too much. Today reminded me to be more reflective, because there is still good here to be had.

There is still good to be had when I emerge from the shower to hear my husband playing the cello.
There is still good to be had when a boy says, "I LIKE this book." (How It Went Down, so credit to you, Mom!)
There is still good to be had when my evaluator says, "The students were silent during reading time. They must really like reading."
There is still good to be had when a student asks, "Will we still be doing work after testing?" and another student replies, "You Know Ms. Vander Haak will still be giving us work." I'll take that as maintaining high expectations.
There is still good to be had when a student runs up to announce her new job.
There is still good to be had when a student just needs a hug.

This is all starting to remind me of the title I gave this blog way back two years ago. Which makes me feel old because I know how much I've changed since I first created this. Last year I spent planning sitting on the floor on my classroom, trying to ground myself. This year I spend planning at my desk, reassuring myself I'm a real adult.

At the end of the day, no matter what else happened, I remind myself that my students still all think I'm a real teacher. They call me, "Mrs. Vander Haak." They run to me in a crisis. All these little souls seem to believe in me more than I believe in myself sometimes.

This is all starting to remind me of a poem I wrote one of my student teaching classes. So I will include that below, as a final thought. I'll just add this commentary: perhaps we are all here to believe in each other, because we belong to each other, in ubuntu, in God, in everything.

I believe in you.

In you.

And you.

And you.

You who hate me.

You who love me.

You who feel nothing.

You who feel love half the time

and hate half

(and upset my soul on a daily basis).

You who put tape in my hair.

You who write me letters.

You who lean in and whisper in my ear.

You who tell me to leave you alone.

You who ask me for help.

You who need help but refuse to ask.

You who help me rearrange the chairs.

You who leave at the bell every day.

You who jump over the desks.

You who throw cards in the air.

You who make bad jokes

            (and sometimes funny ones).

You who hug me.

You who glare at me.

You who help me carry things.

You who greet me in the halls.

You who avert your eyes outside of class(her? I don’t know her).

You who mislead me.

You who open up to me.

You who turn up the music when I leave the room.

You who laugh when I return.

You who avoid me.

You who seek me out.

You who ask much.

You who want nothing.

You who misuse vocabulary words.

You who have strokes of genius.

You whom I may very well never understand.

You whom, of course, I wish I could.

You all, whom sometimes I lie in bed thinking about,

agonizing over,

loving,

lamenting

–      at night, or in that flash after the alarm.

You whom I check on every

            single

            day.

You whom I cheer for your successes

            (often more than you).

You whom I grieve your failures

            because they are a choice

                        that I have been told I must allow

            or they are the result of factors

                        that I cannot change

                                    because as much as I’d like to reach into your life and fix it all -

                                    I can’t.

You who will forever be my freshman alliance.

I am new at this

            like you.

So I’m sorry for what I have done wrong.

Please bear with me.

Please know that I am trying.

Please know that I care

            Very Much.

And please know that I believe in you.

            We are human.

                        We belong to each other.

            We can do anything.

            Don’t let Anyone Ever tell you otherwise.

Shalom,

Anneke