My love story

A month ago my grandmother died, and I went to California for the funeral.

Many years ago now, my grandfather had a stroke, and although he's made much progress since the event, it still interferes with his language abilities. In more recent years, my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, and this, combined with foot problems, has hampered her physically.

When I flew into LAX that Saturday morning, my aunt picked me up, and on the drive back to my now grandfather's house (I still get a chill anytime anyone refers to it as that), I commented, "Grandma and Grandpa had such a symbiotic relationship. She did all the mental things, and he did all the physical things."

"Exactly," Aunt Carla replied. "I always wondered what one would do without the other."

Monday afternoon, before the memorial service, I was in the kitchen with my grandfather, urging him to eat. "How are you doing?" I asked him.

"Oh, fine," he said at first, and mentioned something about feeling tired. Then he paused. "53 years we've been married. God said that the two become one flesh, and it's true. But now, I wake up every morning, and I'm alone."

***

About now you're probably wondering why I titled this post "My love story" if I'm going on about my grandparents. It's because of that comment. I cried when my grandfather said that, and I still cry when I think of it (writing this has made me tear up at my laptop now), but it's beautiful along with being tragic. It is true that God makes man and wife one flesh. We are joined in marriage in an inexplicable way. I can only aspire to 53 years. So here is my grandmother, my grandfather, and my husband.

***

I was in charge of the slideshow for my grandmother's funeral, and in a discussion of marriage photos, my grandfather said to make sure we used the car photo, because it was his favorite. So, here it is. This is my grandparents back in 1963, in my grandpa's favorite wedding photo.

Two last things about my grandparents and marriage: 1) Several people at the funeral mentioned how they always referred to their callings in the plural sense - "We were called to San Jose" and so forth & 2) I was also in charge of the portrait for the memorial service, and after selecting it, printing it 16x20, and framing it, I asked my grandfather if he'd like to see it. He nodded, so I led him from the kitchen into the living room, where the giant portrait of my grandmother grinning in front of the Grand Canyon stood in all its glory. He was silent, and after a couple of minutes, all he got out was, "It's good."

So thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for being inspiring people, both in yourselves, your service to God, and your marriage.

Now here is my love story, because I love you, you have inspired me, and I would not be surviving Memphis without my David.

***

I returned from a sixth-month furlough in America to my house in Tokyo in December of sixth grade. A few days later, I was bustled over to a mission New Year's Eve party at my neighbor's house, and I was not at all impressed to be introduced to a new boy in my class. I do not think we talked for the remainder of the night. Honestly, I doubt we talked in the introduction.

In February of that year my mission went on our annual retreat to Karuizawa. One day we were making sandwiches for lunch, and my father and the boy's father pointed out that we made sandwiches similarly, taking care to get each layer to the edges of the bread. I was not very impressed.

Fast forward to eighth grade. I can't remember how it began, but we had one of those middle school mutual crushes. At the JAM (youth group) retreat we had an epic snowball fight. And, we were on the Brain Bowl team together (see photo).

One time I brought David chocolate chip cookies I had made, and my mother was alerted. "Is there anything going on there?" she asked.

"No!!!" I said.

At the eighth grade graduation banquet, David was the only boy I took a photo with. "Is there anything going on there?" my dad asked.

"No!!!" I said.

As high school started, we drifted apart, and although we were in the same study hall class (the class that made Monty cry), we rarely talked individually. However, it was my girl friend group and his guy friend group that got together for co-ed events. We all went in a group to the freshman banquet, so I took a photo with him.

The next year, when our class had a gym night, and whoever was in charge decided that of course all white people are friends, so all the white students should be in a group together, guess who that put together...! We're looking pretty glorious in our hyakuen hand-painted hakujin T-shirts.


And then, of course, the tenth grade banquet....

This picture takes place in our junior year of high school, and I've included it simply because I think it indicates a lot about our history that of course David was present at this moment in which I am jumping off the top of a play structure in a park in the middle of the night (Mom and Dad, if you're reading this, by "middle of the night," I mean 8pm, since we all know it gets early dark in Tokyo).

Next up is junior year banquet. I actually went to the banquet with the JAM leaders that year, and David was not a JAM leader, but he was friends with the boys in the group, so he came with us anyways. (It was fate, eh?) So, he was there the night we got no food at the "all-you-can-eat" buffet, my heel fell off running down the street in Shibuya, and we got Starbucks frappuccinos for dinner, before getting kicked out a building where we attempted to loiter to drink them.



Enter senior year (that fateful year!). This first photo is from a video that I completely forgot about. It must have been somebody's video class project, and we got roped into acting for it. As I recall, David was a nerd, and I was the girl he had a crush on. I think that fits well :D

And, of course, senior council! Good times, everybody. I appreciate all the set-ups.

And (drum roll)...study hall! We were in the same study hall, fourth period, and we'd go to the senior lounge, along with Sophia and Julia, who tirelessly threw us together and teased us, and we tirelessly attempted to shoot down.

I was contemplating switching study hall periods at Christmas, and my dad told me to ask David what he was doing, because he knew that David helped me with my calculus homework in study hall. Which is where it all began.... (So, thanks, Dad).

In the spring our senior class went to Thailand for a week, and David and I were in the same small group (thanks, senior council).

The rest, as they say, is history....

Senior banquet

High school graduation

All-night class graduation party at the beach

Disney Sea Graduation celebration

We went to Calvin together, though I discouraged David from following me. (Thanks for ignoring me, dear.) If you know David or I very well, you will know of our passion for The Lord of the Rings. However, it may take a deep level of dedication to the series for anyone else to figure out what character we're imitating here in the nature preserve.

Then, home again for summer....

Junior year, 21st birthday: my first personalized pie

On June 21, 2014, David led me on a seemingly wild goose chase across Kiyose to go to a supposed cool new breakfast restaurant he'd found. We approached a river, and he blindfolded me and led me down a grassy slope. When he took of the bandana, he revealed a brunch picnic set up under a canopy, beside the river. The feast was five courses, including pancakes he cooked on a skillet at the table and my mother's sticky bun recipe that I'd told him I liked. Partway through (five courses at once is a lot even for us), he took me over beside the river, kneeled down, and proposed.

"Of course," I said.

(Yes, Brian, if you read this, I did shove cake in David's face - and I think our marriage is doing just fine :) - maybe it can be a sign of playfulness instead.)

Thank you, Grandma.

Thank you, Grandpa.

Thank you, David.

I love you.

I thought a lot over what I would have to say about my grandma. She was the nicest person I know, but that seems a shallow thing to say. So I contemplated if she was the best person I know. You always want to say that of people when they die, but I didn't want to make it up. So I debated, weighing other "best" people that I could think of, and I decided that all of my grandparents and parents are the best people I know.

I don't say that against anyone else. I wish everyone could believe that their grandparents and parents are the best people they know.

I hope that one day our children can say that about us.

I had a lot of fun looking through photo memories to pick some out for this post. I was inspired for that part when I looked at David one night and thought how in love with him I was, and wanted to find one picture to post. I have to admit, I thought we were so cute, I couldn't just choose one. Yes, I feel silly saying that, but I hope that everyone can find that much joy and love in their own lives. After all, you're the one living your life.

On David's 18th birthday I made him 18 fortune cookies. The fortune inside each was something I liked about him. I used to rewrite song lyrics for him, too.

I don't do those things anymore - perhaps I should - instead I bake scones on Sunday morning, do the laundry, make him tea, sing loudly with the top down, buy him books, write emails to his family, give him the better pillows, and live this wild adventure together.

***

I love you much
most beautiful darling
more than anyone on the earth
and I like you better
than everything in the sky

-eecummings

***

XO,
Anneke

P.S. For anyone still with me, here are some post-marriage photos for your enjoyment.

 

Honeymoon cupcakes (thanks, Caitlin, although, 12? really?)

More LOTR, because the tree was too perfect

A cousin photo, because Grandma was so enthusiastic about taking it

And, finally, our infinity

The light at the end of the tunnel

I'm experiencing this new thing lately in which I actually enjoy my job and thereby my life!

I enjoyed teacher aiding. I enjoyed student teaching. During student teaching, I was actually a little sad when spring break came, because I wasn't going to get to see my dear students for over a week! My goodness, was that perspective switched last year.

But I'm here to tell all first year teachers: THERE IS HOPE.

So, with no further ado, here are just a few of reasons I love my job this year:

• because a student said, "Coming to your class and reading The Glass Castle is my favorite part of the day"
• because one of my students finished his first independent reading book in one day and asked me, "Do I have to start rereading the same book tomorrow?"
• because several other students have also already enthusiastically finished their first choice books
• because so many students wanted to share their books with their classmates that I had to cut them off because we were running out of time
• because I might have actually created, along with my students, a culture of reading, or at least 60% of one
• because one of my students from last year came to me and asked to borrow a book from my classroom library
• because my students make me love The Glass Castle again with their laughter and shouted responses when I read it aloud, even when I've already read it six times, and so we create our experience of the book together
• because 100% of the students in one of my sections turned in their homework on time this week
• because I regularly get hugs from a couple of the girls I taught last year
• because I get to ask questions like, "What are you most afraid of?" and then read deeply personal journal entries, and that's a perfectly normal part of class
• because a student asked me, "Is being a teacher fun?" and I could honestly say, "Most of the time." "So you would recommend it?" "Definitely." "Good, because I was thinking of being a teacher."
• because I've only picked up 3 pieces of trash off the floor in 3 weeks
• because none of those pieces of trash have been broken pencils
• because the canister of 8 pencils I put out at the beginning of the year still has pencils in it
• because when I explained my pencil borrowing system on the first day, a student asked, "Are we allowed to bring in pencils to contribute to the class supply?"
• because I can turn and write on the board and not be worried students will attack each other or throw crackers at me behind my back
• because I can tell students to do something, or take away Gatorade they shouldn't have in class, or order them into the hallway for a discussion on why they were yelling across the room, and they actually do what I say, without a gallon of attitude! sighs, yes, eye rolling, yes, but you know what? they do it! (maybe I have actual authority!)
• because I called home for the students who scored above level on the reading test, and one boy told me, "Thank you for taking the time to call my mom. She said that she wished she was better at English, so that she would have more opportunities. I appreciate you taking the time to do that. It means a lot to me." 
• because I got to have a discussion with the same boy about applying for scholarships so he can go to college because he's BRILLIANT
• because I get the chance to challenge, support, inspire, and believe in 56 teenagers every day

In short, I feel like a real teacher this year. I feel like I'm actually teaching and in control of my classroom at least, say, 90% of the time. And my students are actually doing their work and actually learning things! Not perfectly, no - a lot of them still need to learn personal responsibility and all that, and conjunctive adverbs might need some polishing, but we're working on it. Because I get to work on things like that with teenagers! I get to work on actually helping people have better lives and be better people so they can help other people. On my good days, I try to do that.

So for any first year teachers, when you're unable to fall asleep because you're panicking about school in the morning, or your legs start breaking out in hives due to stress, or you're getting pelted with crackers, or you're crawling on your hands and knees picking up pencil halves, or you're just completely miserable and defeated and feeling as if you're ruining children's lives - keep going. Keep going. Keep going. The light at the end of the tunnel isn't a fast approaching train. It's year 2. (But you can always come cry in my room if you need a good vent.)

Full of love, not the less because a tiny and adorable new person has recently expanded my capacity for love,

Anneke

Things I've learned this year

Things I've learned this year:

• Don't follow Google Maps when it tells you to exit the highway during a blizzard because small country roads are going to be faster
• Just because you have the money to purchase all the sweets your heart desires doesn't mean you should do so
• Reading truly gives you another life (which is awesome when you're not too happy about the life your body is in)
• You don't necessarily get a notice about paying rent - you're just supposed to know and do
• Don't take the way people treat you personally - there's some overused saying about how people treat you says something about them, not you
• Choosing to laugh instead of cry will keep you sane, but choosing to cry sometimes will keep you human
• Used bookstores are places of magic
• Fried chicken is a food group
• Never buy holiday candy until after the holiday - if you wait long enough, it truly is Dirt Cheap
• I am loved beyond my imagination even when I don't feel it, and that is what matters
• Exercise might actually make you feel better
• Some places in this country freeze during the summer
• It is possible to be so in the middle of nowhere that there are no clear radio stations
• IHOP is not always open 24/7
• Stress actually affects your body
• Dancing to loud music with your husband can do a wonder to dispel said stress
• You need to take care of yourself, but balance is important
• America has more, and more serious, issues than I realized
• Take care not to become a cynic, but also take care not to fall apart - either direction paralyzes you
• People will mask their own cleverness to be accepted
• The Great Gatsby is actually a beautiful and wonderful book
• Cry, the Beloved Country is actually a beautiful and wonderful book
• --> Basically, reread the books you considered "meh" in high school, because your brain probably just hadn't progressed enough to fully appreciate them - not that we can ever really FULLY appreciate literature - but that's part of its greatness, that you can keep reading, keep discovering
• Teenagers' brains have not fully developed yet
• So be kind
• But always be kind anyways
• But at the same time, be mean
• --> Life is a balance
• Ecclesiastes
• You have to choose to be happy 
• Start the year strict. Start the year strict. Start the year strict.
• "...[P]eople will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel" - MA

Aaaand, because I shall always love Stephen Chbosky, and I'm rereading The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and sometimes I complain too much, and I'm having a brilliant summer:

"This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song, and that drive with the people who you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite."

Now I'm off to revel in my last week and a half of high summer.

Toodles,

Anneke

P.S. For all of you who asked, and I didn't know yet, or anyone else just interested - Next year I'll be teaching 2 sections of 10th grade English (so 4 hours/day) + tutoring 1 section of middle school (either ESL or English). Finding out I shall have less work than last year is definitely contributing to my lightheartedness :)

P.S.S. I've been raising money for my classroom library. I've reached $494 of my $540 goal and appreciate any support anyone still feels like giving! https://www.pledgecents.com/cause/yvvhdb/classroom-library


<3.

Riddles

On Thursday we wrote riddles to work on inferences in poetry, so here are some of the best -- feel free to guess!

1. I have four legs and a lot of hair
Roam the jungle and poop in grass
My face is hairy like a Sasquatch and
My body as bald as a naked mole rat
Catch preying gazelles and buffalos out
In the wild where I reside

2. She lies
Comfortable, unbothered nor worried
She grows each day
She moves when she's hungry
Nine months later
She will see the world
She will be the new member

3. He is a man on a team
He wears black or green
At one point he wore a ring
People say he's lame
But he is at the top of his game
At night he fights crime
During the day he has all the time
He's CEO and rich
But he's nobody's itch

4. I am green in color
Like the grass, I have infinite amounts
Being used for numerous reasons
I am what most people need
People are given the opportunity to
Spend me or save me
I could be used to get people
Luxurious things
If new, I am smooth in touch

5. I'm humongous and juicy
With just a tad bit of spice
I'm as spicy as a volcano
Yet cheap as some Reebox
You can get me for a dollar
And some change
I can fulfill your hunger
When you see me, I make your
Mouth moist. I might make you
gain weight. What am I?

6. Five vertexes is all it has at once
Good in the sky only once a day
Credited as a diamond
Sitting amongst us all
Stationary places forever
Occasionally we fall

7. I believe everyone likes me on their breakfast plate
I'm best in my tannish brown state
I'm a circle with squares inside
I'm great with milk on the side
Butter is usually on top of me
Syrup above is something you'll always see
A bite, when you see me, you want to take
I'm a close relative of the pancake

8. Red as blood
Small and petite
It holds your life
And your emotions

You don't feel it
Nor do you see it
But when you're
Emotionally hurt you
Think about it

It beats a steady beat
A beat like the beat of
A drum

9. You see me everywhere in nature
I make my own food and nutrients
Bees are attracted to my gorgeous petals
And they pollinate me to make their honey
I can be yellow, pink, purple, anything
I can be enormous to the tiny bugs
Or just a pleasant side to a beautiful woman

10. I sit up high
As you watch my time pass by
My hands go round
I may make you frown
Sometimes I go fast, sometimes I go slow
I'm always scheduled, you'll always know
I'll always have you on the go

11. It is bright and eccentric
Brings trepidation, giggles, and shocks
Some say it's a killer
A killer of family time
You have the control in your hand
It comes to life faster than lightning

This week was full of ups and downs, but the kids had so much fun writing these. I wish I could see that joy in my classroom more often. They couldn't wait to share and guess each other's.

:)
Anneke

Trying Again

A reflective fondness has been creeping up on my lately. I find myself thinking things like, "Wow, I have such a great job, that I get to read student journals," or, "I can't believe people will share things like this with me. Being a teacher is awesome." That just sounded super trite and unbelievable, right? Of course, these thoughts are mixed in with "Only 25 days of school left" and "Why can't this year just be done?!?! I am so over these kids."

But maybe it's only as I'm about to lose my first babies that I can fully appreciate the honor it is to teach them everyday.

Today was cake day at school. Once a month one of the teachers uses the hospitality fund (that we all paid into) to buy cakes to celebrate that month's teacher birthdays. For some reason (perhaps the fact that several of the teachers, including me, were eating cake while on lunch duty) my juniors discovered that it was cake day, and congregated around the teacher's lounge door in the passing between lunch and 6th period. They kept trying to sneak in to coerce (that's one of our vocabulary words this week! I feel proud using it, even though I'm now--EEK!--23 years old) me into giving them cake. When all else failed, a student threatened, "If you don't give us cake, we'll torture you when we come to your class!" At the time, that sounded ominous, partially because this class will come together to torture teachers and partially because it's unannounced observation week, and that would just happen to me. But upon reflection, the entire ordeal is hilarious. I get to work with these kids everyday! And they crack me up everyday. Sometimes because I have to choose between laughing or crying, but sometimes just because life is funny, and maybe I need them to show me that.

Third period a tenth grader broke my stapler (again), and my first thought was, "Oh, I'll have to get --- to fix that 7th period when I have him." So, --- kid walks in 7th period, and I ask him to fix my stapler, and he's pleased that I remembered his awesome fix-it skills (he's previously fixed my computer and pencil sharpener), and then he and another kid fight over who actually fixed the stapler.

The 11th graders took the ACT yesterday. For the two months before that, I had been reviewing for the English and reading tests once a week or so in class. Today I caught one of them in the hall and asked, "How was the ACT?"

"Kind of hard. Except for your English parts! Those were easy, because you gave us all those packets."

"You complained the whole time I tried to review for the ACT."

"Yeah...sorry about that."

And that is the glory of teaching. Yes, they all complain in the short-term. But every once in a while you catch a glimmer of the good it will actually do in the long-run. Like that maybe my annoying insistence that my juniors practice reading comprehension and study subjective vs. objective pronouns may have raised their ACT scores a point or two.

Also, today when I got on a 10th grader about not doing her work, she told me, "You're one of only two teachers that care about us."

"Earlier this year you told me I acted like I didn't care."

"Yeah...sorry, I was having a bad day."

And earlier this week, a student complained to me, "This is the only class I have to try in to get an A. I go home and cry about it!" Which sounds terrible. But I'm going to take it in a good way. Yes, you should have to put in effort to get an A.

There's this quote I found on Pinterest in the summer to encourage David: "Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow" (Mary Anne Radmacher). I think about that quote a lot this year. I also think about the definition of insanity as trying the same thing over again and expecting different results. Perhaps I am bravely insane, or insanely brave.

Here's to trying again tomorrow -
Anneke

Bunny in Memphis

David and I went to see Zootopia this afternoon. We're on spring break, and tickets are cheap 4-6 every afternoon, so we went to a 4:10 showing. Partway through the previews, a reminder not to illegally record movies came up on the screen. It featured two white men, mid-twenties, one in a hoodie, leaning together with these evil looks on their faces. I leaned over to David and said, "Because only really sketchy looking people do illegal things." "Do we look sketchy because we're here without a kid?" he asked back. "Please," I said. "I'm a girl, and I'm wearing a floral dress. And then you're with me, so you probably get points for that."

Zootopia was a great movie. It was cute and funny, but more than that, it was social commentary in a poignant and inspirational sort of way. At a time when Donald Trump and hate seem to be winning the day, this movie shows the brilliance of fantasy - telling the truth people won't eat up as readily any other way (there's some famous quote about this that I can't recall).

(And yes, I have read reviews where flaws - including that wolves do historically eat bunnies - are noted, and if you take it that far, I see the problematic implications. We could have a whole other discussion about that. No, I do not believe black people historically killed white people. Other way around, really. Maybe we could decide that makes our society even more ridiculous?)

I haven't blogged in a while. Mostly, because lately when I have strong feelings and something to say, that something is negative, and I don't want to share around more negativity in this world. But Zootopia took some of those thoughts and gave them somewhere to go. Yes, a children's movie seems to have restored my hope in humanity, at least for an afternoon.

I started off spring break by reading All American Boys on Saturday. It's the story of a white police officer beating a black teenage boy. It's a story we've all heard too often as not just a story. The particularly interesting part of All American Boys (which, by the way, is a Coretta Scott King honor book) is that it's told from two alternating perspectives - that of the boy who was beat and that of a white teenage classmate whose perspective changes. The novel depressed me at the beginning, because it's true, and then it made me embarrassed to be a white person, because although the white kid's perspective changes, he's so blindly racist at the beginning. I'm embarrassed to be associated with that. I'm embarrassed that it's so true. I want to protest that all white people aren't like that. And yet, before this recent wave of police brutality publicity and Black Lives Matter, was I any different?

(Note: an interesting twist in All American Boys is that the father of the boy who was beat up used to be a cop. He quit after shooting and paralyzing a black teenager who he mistook to be getting out a gun when he was actually reaching for his inhaler.)

Then this morning I started How It Went Down (another Coretta Scott King honor book), which follows the neighborhood shooting of a black teenage boy by a white man. You are thrown into the midst of confused perspectives over what happened, and while I haven't finished it yet, it's clear that people are stereotyping and assuming like crazy, and that's resulting in the white man getting off on the excuse of self defense (sound familiar?). People assume the teenager was in a gang, or he had a gun, and while none of that seems to be true, none of it also excuses fatally shooting someone.

At the end of Zootopia, Judy gives a classic inspirational speech about how she came to the city expecting everyone to get along perfectly, and when she arrived, she saw it wasn't so, but we still need to do our best to make the world a better place. Yes, it's trite, but it's still true. I didn't realize how many problems America had until I moved here. Maybe I'm a bit like the bunny. (People do look at me and assume similar things. "You? Moving to Memphis? To teach in an urban school?!")

As we left the theater for our car, that conversation about the sketchy movie recorders came back to me. Sometimes it's hard to stay out of the system. I had done the same thing. I struggle with this sometimes - if people are going to treat me like a harmless female, is it so bad to try to play that card sometimes?

A couple of weeks ago in class, the opening journal prompt asked where your name was from, why you got it, what it meant, etc. A girl named Tyler raised her hand and said, "When I was little, I didn't like my name, because it sounds like a boy, but my mom gave me this name instead of a name like Shaniqua because she wanted me to be able to get job interviews."

Right before spring break we finished Cry the Beloved Country in sophomore English. My final reading question asked students to apply what we've talked about fixing broken things to some current situation. One girl told me that this novel shows that the way to fix a society is to come together, whereas Trump is trying to fix America by breaking us apart.

I could go on and on. The whole debate about how you present yourself vs. social capital is on the tip of my tongue, but I think I'll restrain that for now. Sorry for the long ramble. Hopefully you could make some sense from it. Or at least you thought a little bit.

Shalom,
Anneke