Advice: The Doctor is In

This blog is co-authored by several former students I reached out to recently. Thank you to Riley Redd, Numa Rehmani, Sterling Saunders, Prakrit Shukla, and Charlie Welles for taking the time out of your busy college schedules to help write this.

When I was a kid, I loved watching the Peanuts movies. In my eyes, Charles Schultz was a genius. My favorite part of any movie featuring Charlie Brown was not Snoopy and Woodstock battling it out or Linus and Charlie Brown waiting for the Great Pumpkin. Nor was it Charlie Brown missing the football for the umpteenth time or Sally seducing Linus with her valentines. Surprisingly, I was not impressed by the teacher who you couldn't understand either. Rather, it was when Lucy set up her advice stand, charging Charlie Brown 5 cents for her not-so-valuable, very unsolicited advice.

As a kid, I dreamed of setting up my own “advice stand.” My sister and brother begged our parents to let them sell lemonade one summer, but all I wanted to do was dish out advice. Unfortunately, people bought the lemonade, but not the advice from the seven year-old.  

I’ve been on the receiving end of all sorts of advice: anything from “What could I have done differently in a lesson?” to “Does this dress make me look taller?” (I need all of the help I can get when it comes to height!) I also have dispensed a fair amount of advice in my time: anything from telling my own kids to say thank you to most recently helping seniors figure out where they should go to college. The latter I probably could have opened an “advice stand” for, but in all honesty, it’s been fun to watch the seniors I teach figure out for themselves where they will go. I’ve witnessed several “aha” moments when some of you realized where you will call “home” for the next four years. I even guessed several schools correctly. It’s extremely gratifying to have known you as freshmen and watch you figure out as young adults the path of your future.

So, I write this blog to give all of you who are taking IB exams in the next few weeks some advice. Some of you as juniors are taking exams for the first time. Some of you as seniors are taking up to six exams within the festival of IB testing. I know this advice is unsolicited, but I am feeling the need to open my “advice stand” and tell you that this is only a test. They’re all only tests, and while they are a culmination of everything that you’ve been doing for the past year--or in some classes two years--don’t let them define you. Recently, I learned this very lesson. As some of you know, for the past three years I have been working on my National Board certification. The National Board for Certified Teachers has revamped it’s requirements and only released them one at a time, which is why it is taking me three years to hopefully achieve. This past year, I received a score on one component that was lower than I wanted it to be. While it was still a passing score, it is not one I was proud of earning. I remember thinking that this score doesn’t reflect the kind of teacher I am. This score doesn’t demonstrate the hours I put into my craft or the relationships I have built with the students in my classroom. This score is not one that Kelly Pace would earn. I was doing exactly what I’m telling you not to do. I was letting that score define who I was, and in turn, I was feeling like an unworthy teacher. Since receiving the results of that score, I have come to some conclusions. A test cannot represent who I am as a person or a teacher. It is one measurement, but it doesn’t measure the student who could not write a thesis statement that was not a three-prong statement at the beginning of the year and now can. It does not measure the student who was rather close-minded at the start of TOK and now is open to the thoughts of others. It does not measure the fact that I am connected with my students--they share their poetry and memes and even Taco Bell (much to my chagrin) with me. So, when you sit down to take your IB tests next week, work hard. Study. Listen to what your teachers are telling you over the next few days. Read the books if you haven't done so yet. Memorize the quotes and finish the annotations. But also remember that it’s just a test. They are all just tests.

While I stand behind the advice I have just given you, I felt the need to seek some additional advice to write my blog this month. So, I sought the advice of the graduates from the Class of 2016. Below are some of their thoughts when it comes to IB exams:

• Don't stress too much about IB exams. Stressing yourself out makes everything worse, and then you end up panicking more than studying.
• Don't wait until the last minute to pick up those notes!
• Everything works out in the end! Think back to one of your all nighters and how you probably thought the world was ending because you were stressed about an assignment, but you're still here today :) --Numa Rehmani

• Study with friends!!! Talking it out will help and being with other people will keep you sane (ish).
• Actually go to sleep!! Sleep deprivation will just make you feel worse & you might start to feel sick.
• Take breaks so you don't go crazy. --Riley Redd

• START EARLY!!! Please spread out your studying, for both your own sanity and your grade.  You will learn the information better if you review it in smaller chunks over a longer period of time.  
•   Sleep is also super important.  I know some like to stay up all night to try and cram a bunch of information, but I promise sleep does help you to do better on tests.  
•   Make study guides! These are especially helpful for history and biology/chemistry where there are lots of pieces of information.  By making the study guide you are working with the material, so it actually helps to force you to start studying earlier. For English, I recommend re-reading your essays that you wrote for your writing responses.  They are a good way to review both the plots of the novels and literary techniques. Also, you do have to memorize some quotes, but don’t stress too much about that.  As long as you get the gist of the quote you’re good.
•   Make sure to take time for yourself during the exam periods.  It’s important to have mental breaks and to do things you enjoy even though you’re taking tests.  --Sterling Saunders

  

• "I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious." -Vince Lombardi
• For the past two years, you have been preparing for these IB tests, and as much as it seems absurd, three weeks of testing will count for the past two years of work. Don't let your laziness or fear of the tests let all that work go to waste! My advice is to find a group of friends to provide encouragement and (more importantly) comic relief: they will make the tests palatable. --Charlie Welles

• There's really nothing me or anyone can say to make this time feel less stressful or make you care a little bit less (or more) about your performance on these upcoming tests. At this point in your lives, you've heard most of the motivation talk and inspirational mantras that have probably ever existed. The only thing anyone can really say is that your scores and performance on these exams do not add to or take away from anything that each of you is able to do. Even if you get a 1 on AP Calc BC (guilty) or a 7 in IB HOA, that does not mean that you are going to fail or excel in life.

• Bill Gates said that he failed many exams while his roommate aced all of his. Now Gates is the co-founder of one of the largest software companies in the world, while his roommate is an engineer for that same company. It is so easy nowadays to make yourself feel terrible by comparing yourselves to everyone around you or finding people who seem to be "smarter" and feeling inadequate in front of them (I know that's ironic to say right after the Bill Gates example lol). Comparing yourself to everyone around you, will only lead yourself in a downward spiral of sadness and hopelessness, because you will never be as good as someone else at something. Instead, compare yourself to you. I hate more than anything to be cliche, but really the only things that will matter are what you have learned, knowing how to use what you have learned practically, and having the will to keep learning. In the end, things like high school exam scores will hold almost no weight in your own eyes 2-3 years down the road.
• You know your stuff, and as long as you are happy with your own performance, that's all that matters. And if you still want to compare yourself to me or anyone else, we all got 7s on every exam. Good luck.-- Prakrit Shukla

One day, perhaps, you will see me in my driveway, running my “advice stand.” The cost will be free, the advice endless. Everyone will walk away smiling. My hope is you find something in this blog that resonates with you and that you walk away from your exams knowing you worked hard, tried your best, and most importantly, may you walk away smiling. May you always be smiling! Good luck!

Texting, Colleges, and the Importance of Standing Out

I wasn’t planning on writing a blog over Spring Break. It is a break, after all. Yet, this one came to me at 2 in the morning, forcing me to sit straight up in bed. I have two pieces of writing I am required to write over break, one including revisions to my 13-page National Board paper, but of course, I didn’t get any inspiration in the middle of the night for that. Regardless, I felt compelled to write down what came to me at 2 a.m.

So what sat me straight up in bed thinking? Texting. I have been noticing a disparity in my texting versus that of others recently. Let me preface this by saying I think texting is one of the greatest inventions. It enables me to check on my kids when they are at a friend’s house at a moment’s notice. It saves time, as I can ask a simple question to others without having to pick up the phone and have a lengthy conversation. It brings out my sense of humor. As my students, you don’t have my cell phone number, but you do have the means to message me on Remind. I often wonder why all of your questions come after 10:00 p.m., but I digress. Texting enables me to make someone smile that I might not connect with during the day. My dad even sends me a daily thought every single day. We are connected by texting. But lately, I am seeing much disparity.

Here’s what I’ve started to notice. Most of the texts I receive from students and friends are short responses. Now I’ll admit that brevity is not my forte; it’s not even in my vernacular. What I’ve noticed is that while I still capitalize and write grammatically correct texts, most of my friends and students use abbreviations and rarely capitalize or even punctuate. I won’t even get into the use of emojis. Texting to me has become its own language that I am having a hard time speaking. Even my own children understand the language of texting. Over spring break while we were on the way to Crump Park, they started talking about texting language.  “Do you know what ttyl means?” Jack quizzed Katie and Maggie. “How about btw?” I even have noticed them using these abbreviations when they speak. “BTW, Maggie, that is not how you play Minecraft,” Jack said to her one morning. They speak the language, and they don’t even have cell phones!

I don’t know why this idea woke me up in the middle of the night, but it bothered me. I feel like I stand out more than I should on this one. I began to search through my phone, looking at my “paragraphs” and “dissertations” of texts and the short, quick responses that my friends and students delivered back. I was suddenly reminded of my father-in-law who passed away suddenly on this day thirteen years ago at the young age of 58. He was a newspaper editor who upheld the written word like no one else I know. He often asked me to write for The Herald Progress, the newspaper he owned and edited, but sadly, I never did. I didn’t think I was good enough to write for a published newspaper. It was an intimidating request for someone in her twenties. It would be an intimidating request for someone in her forties. While I regret never taking the time to write a column for him, how he must love that I have been writing so much and “publishing” some of it in the form of a blog this year. No matter how bad the writing may be, I know he would be proud of the content of this blog entry. You see, my father-in-law also was not a man of brevity and often behind the times, something I closely self-identify with in my own life. I remember one Christmas he joked, wondering if there was any “bling bling” in the box he was opening. “Bling” was a word that people started using, he had heard it, and decided to show that he was “current” with the times. We never laughed so hard because hearing him use that word “bling” just seemed so out of place. I just know he would have texted me in paragraphs that were grammatically correct if he was still alive today.

So the final thing I realized in my middle-of-the-night thoughts is that these ideas on texting and the uncomfortable feeling of standing out that I am experiencing are metaphors. I warn you: me thinking metaphorically at 2 a.m. can be a dangerous idea, but I rather like this one. So, here goes. Juniors, many of you are away on college visits this spring break. You are starting to think about what the four years after high school will look like. Seniors, some of you have decided on those four years, but there are many more of you who are on admitted student visits this week to make that final decision by May 1. So I have one piece of advice for all of you:

Choosing where you go to college is about where you will stand out, not necessarily where you should try to fit in. Choose a place where you feel comfortable being you, where it is okay to write out ‘talk to you later’ as opposed to ttyl.

I know I stand out in the texting world, but maybe that’s okay that I don’t conform to society’s use of abbreviations and emojis. Likewise, don’t try to fit into the school you choose; try to see what school will give you the support you need to stand out and be yourself. It is a feeling that is hard to put into words that you get when you walk on campus and feel comfortable in your own skin. Go where it feels like home. You see, what I’ve noticed more than anything is that despite my opposition for emojis and texting abbreviations, people are still texting me. When you pick the right place, people will always be supporting you.Wherever that college is that you are meant to attend, listen to your heart tell you where you will stand out.

I remember the first week at the University of Richmond. I called my parents one night, complaining that everyone looked like they jumped out of a J.Crew catalog. I sorely didn’t fit in. I wish I remember my mom’s advice; I’m sure it was something profound as she has a way with words. I do remember telling her that there was no diversity there, and I do remember her telling me that I could be the one that makes it diverse, that I can stand out by who I am and the way I think. I am actually more diverse in my values and beliefs, and the University of Richmond helped me figure that out.

I still will continue to write my novel-esque texts. My fingers get itchy when I think about lack of punctuation and capitalization. I did use btw the other day, by the way. It felt odd, but perhaps that’s because I also paired it with a lengthy statement following that abbreviation. Until texting becomes a language I truly cannot speak, I am going to stick with my grammatically correct, non-emoji texts. After all, standing out is far better than fitting in just because you feel compelled to be like everyone else. Here’s to hoping I have more inspiration at 2 a.m. for the paper whose deadline is quickly approaching. Here’s to hoping that whatever college decision you do make, you find happiness there in the next four years. Whatever school that is, they are lucky to have you; whatever school that is, I know you will stand out.

Life's About Reaction

There are some people in life who always are easy targets: it’s easy to make fun of them, and they know how to take it, perhaps because the teasing happens so frequently that they’ve developed a tough outer shell. For most of my life, I have been one of those people. I am affectionately teased on a daily basis by my friends, my students, and even my family.

When I was in high school, I was in the play Oliver!  where I had to speak in a British accent. Accents tend to come easy for me. I can slip right back into a New York accent and actually can talk like a munchkin from The Wizard of Oz. Yet, when I attempted the British accent in that play, for the life of me, I couldn’t get it.  I remember the director mercilessly teasing me for my “southern” British accent. Perhaps this was foreshadowing my descent to the South where I went away to college. Regardless, I was teased throughout the duration of that play.

My friends often tease me for doing too much. Yet what they don’t realize is why I do all that I do. There is a greater reason there. But this isn’t about that reason.

Most recently, I have been teased for my affinity for Eric Clapton as a musician. Yet, while many are quick to judge my musical taste, no one knows that the song “Tears in Heaven” got me through a very hard time in my life. This isn’t about that hard time, either.

I’ve been teased for being a rules follower, not liking spicy food, and for hating emojis. We are debasing our written intelligence every time we use emojis, by the way. I’ve been teased for caring too much, working too hard, and driving a minivan. Again, I have reasons for all of those things, but that’s not what this is about.

So what is this about? This isn’t about being bullied or made fun of or even affectionately teased. It’s about reaction. It’s about how you react to the situations you encounter in life.

This past week, I was reminded of this idea of reaction as a student so eloquently stated: “Life’s all about reaction. You know that. Get knocked down 9 times. Stand up 10.” His words were actually based off of a Japanese proverb: “Fall down seven times, stand up eight.”

This week I was reminded to stand up in times of adversity. And I watch all of you stand up in light of adversity as well--many on a daily basis. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t like the word disability. Everyone has some kind of hardship they face; some are just more obvious than others. In life, it’s how you react--how you face adversity--that truly matters.

One of the things I like most about teaching teenagers is the way you handle difficult situations. More people should take note of how you deal with things and perhaps there wouldn’t be so much stress, drama, and hardship in our lives. You see, you are some of the most optimistic people I know.  You have grit, perseverance, and a resilience that most adults I know do not possess. You don’t let your work get you down. You complete multiple assignments a week--including IAs and tests with grace under pressure. You’re expected to do community service at a whim’s notice and simultaneously earn good grades and participate in an excess of extracurricular activities--all the while spending time with your family and friends.

This month, I’ve watched you work hard at many things in my classroom:

 Seniors working on website #Calebstrong.












Juniors working on their extended essay for Theory of Knowledge at Randolph Macon College

IB Junior English final projects for Macbeth. 

Ultimately, resilience is an important quality that I think many adults lose for whatever reason as they grow older. The “they’re-young-they’ll-bounce-back” persona they once had deteriorates perhaps because they’ve hardened by the world’s occurrences, perhaps because they are tired of bouncing back, or perhaps they just change as people. Regardless, it took the words of one of my students this month along with the actions of all of you for me to realize the power of perseverance in my life.

As I said earlier, I’m an easy target. I like to think I do have a tough outer shell, yet, this past week, I grew rather doubtful of that hardened exterior. What I’ve learned this week is not to worry about people’s words or actions breaking me. One small crack isn’t going to matter. It doesn’t mean I'm broken, just that I faced a tough situation and didn’t fall apart. I learned this by watching all of you continue to persevere despite the hardships you face. So, I hope I still am teased for my Eric-Clapton-loving, emoji-hating, minivan-driving, rules-following ways. I’ll still be standing no matter what, and when some big adversity comes my way, all of that teasing will have prepared me for how to react. After all, life’s about reaction.

Misunderstood: A Message for My Seniors As They Hear Back From Colleges

I am greatly misunderstood. There are very few people on this Earth who get me. People don’t understand why I don’t like cheese, why I can’t make simple decisions, why I spend so much time perfecting a lesson plan or on my teaching practice. People don’t understand why I’d rather read a book than watch the movie and why I despise conflict, emojis, and all things that bark. I’m misunderstood for my kindness. I’ve been asked, “Why are you so nice?” I’m constantly questioned about waking up at 5:30 to run and why I’m so sensitive. When I was in high school and college, I was misunderstood for my choice not to drink alcohol when all of my friends were. Yesterday, I was misunderstood when I chose Eric Clapton for the winner of my music bracket. There are strong personal reasons why, but this is not my defense on Eric Clapton. I’ll save that for another blog. I’m misunderstood on a daily basis, and I want to tell you I’m okay with that.

This week you’ll find out the last of your college acceptances/waitlists/rejections. I know from experience this week is not easy. I’ve already talked to some of you about what you’re experiencing. One of you even made me tear up when you came to talk to me. I apologize about that, by the way. I guess what I want you to know more than anything is that you might feel misunderstood if you have to face being waitlisted or rejected. It’s easy to say, “Why did she get in and I didn’t?” I know this because I have been in your shoes. I got waitlisted at William and Mary, the school I dreamed of attending, and I questioned their decision.

Are you misunderstood? Absolutely. I have no idea why colleges make the decisions that they do. Sometimes I wish I could just call them up and tell them how I’ve taught you all for four individual classes and how I’ve witnessed some of you grow from self-absorbed freshmen to caring and compassionate seniors. Or how you came into my classroom not wanting to utter a word and now I can’t get you to stop talking in a seminar. Or how much you teach me on a daily basis. Or what amazing people you are. Or how smart you are, how utterly hardworking and creative. I can't do that, and so I just try to look at any college rejection that my students face as being misunderstood.

You see, when it comes down to it, it won’t matter where you go because wherever you do end up, they are going to be lucky to have you and you are going to do great things. I know. I’ve spent four classes teaching you. That’s 360 days of educating you. Sorry...that is an awful lot of Kelly Pace.

Have you been misunderstood by some of these colleges? Absolutely. When I studied Ralph Waldo Emerson in college (one of my favorite writers because of his idealism), he wrote something that has since resonated with me: ‘To be great is to be misunderstood.” He proceeds in his essay "Self-Reliance" to list a litany of people who went on to do great things because they were misunderstood. Colleges may not understand all you have to offer them, but maybe that’s what makes you great. And wherever you do end up, whatever professors have you as their students, are extraordinarily lucky. I know. I understand. I have experienced it firsthand.

My People

My People

Who we surround ourselves with tells a lot about who we are and what we need. I married a funny guy. He has a quick wit that never fails to make anyone laugh or at least crack a smile. He can tell a story like no one I know--you need to pay close attention because it’s one filled with so many twists, turns, and circumlocutions that I feel like I am watching The Matrix or Inception every time I listen to him. My husband is so funny that sometimes it’s hard for me to tell when he is being serious. Yet for me, most of the time, he is just what I need to balance my more serious, sensitive self. Two of my three children inherited my husband’s sense of humor. Thank goodness for the middle child who has my sensitivity and compassion. She balances our family out just a little. These people--my husband and kids--are my people. Yet today I want to tell you about a few more of the people in my life who I also affectionately label as “My People.”

I met my people when I was in my thirties. They were fourteen. They were far more immature than they are now, were clueless about literary analysis, and thought that all writing consisted of writing creatively or personal narratives. I like to think I rocked the world of my people when we started to look at literature in new ways in terms of the choices writers make, but maybe I'm giving myself too much credit there.

Like my husband, my people are funny. They have introduced me to the world of memes and make me laugh on a daily basis. They know when the joke is just enough not to step over the line, though.

My people are smart They ask insightful questions and like a good challenge. In fact, my people are at the top of their class. My people are athletes. They are the top scorers of their game. They defend. They lead.

 

Some of my people have no taste in food or music, but I let that slide. To claim that Taco Bell is real food astounds me. Yesterday I tried Taqis and lost my taste buds for a good fifteen minutes. Again, my people are confused when it comes to good taste. Some of my people also don’t see that real music’s foundation comes from the greats--the Beatles, U2, Pearl Jam. But I digress. I fight an uphill battle on this one and constantly remind myself as one student in TOK earlier this year so eloquently stated, “There’s beauty in the imperfections.”

My people are leaders. They are kind, compassionate. Their most recent accomplishment being a website made for Mrs. Hess’ nephew Caleb blew me away. Their collaboration was one of the best I have witnessed in eighteen years in the classroom. One of them even was mesmerized by the videos himself. The final product is something I am proud of--it makes me proud to be their teacher and proud that my people would do such an act of kindness without even knowing the benefactor. When Mrs. Hess called me in tears about the outcome of the final website, I realized that my people may have their flaws as all people do. They may complain about their workload and procrastinate much as of late, but when it comes down to it, they care. They are kind and compassionate people.

My people are award winners. They win DECA competitions and are accepted into countless colleges and universities. After writing close to 50 recommendation letters this year, I love hearing about where my people will be going to college or where they get into college, yet at the same time, those thoughts tug at my heartstrings--thoughts that my people are soon leaving Atlee. You see, I have known my people for four years now. I didn’t get the choice to know them; they showed up in my class as young fourteen year-olds ready to learn. And they will walk out of my classroom on June 8th perhaps having changed themselves, but certainly having changed me. When people ask me what the hardest part of being a teacher is, it’s not the papers, or the meetings, or even planning the lessons. It’s saying goodbye to my students when they graduate and wondering if they’ll ever come back. Of course, I will have new people in my classroom in September, but there will be a part of me missing my “old” people. It happens every year. So, if you find I’m struggling these last few months, it’s because I don’t know how I’m going to say goodbye to my people.

This is probably the most honest blog I can write, but I promised myself this year that no matter how vulnerable it makes me feel, I would share my writing with my students. After all, how can I call myself an English teacher--one who teaches writing--if I don’t write for an audience myself?  So, this is the honest truth: I am afraid of what my classroom will be like without my people. It’s known them for four years and grown comfortable having them sit in there and argue, debate, write, and think.

I will conquer that fear and move on, but that’s material for another blog.  For now, I leave you with this. Continue to surround yourself with the right people--people who lead, who are compassionate, people who are funny and make you feel good about yourselves. Those people will make you see the good and the humor and the compassion in others..Today and always, I am grateful for the people I choose to be around and also grateful for you. I am the teacher I am today because of you and hope you know how lucky I consider myself to have had the chance to know you as my people.

Empowerment

When I was a junior in high school, I had the lead in the school play. We were doing a performance of Twelve Angry Women, the “sister” play to the famous Twelve Angry Men. If you’ve seen the 1957 film, I was playing Henry Fonda’s role. I was excited about this role, as I was the only juror who saw the good in the other characters for the duration of the play. I also planned to run cross country that fall. The cross country coach, however, forced me to make a decision. “You either pick the lead in the play or running,” he said. My first reaction was to ask, “Why can’t I do both?” After all, I was the kid who was involved in many extracurricular activities and never had trouble balancing my time. I ended up choosing the play because I thought, "I can run for the rest of my life, but the chances were slim that I would ever have the opportunity to play Henry Fonda’s role again." Plus, I thought there was a slight chance I would make it to Broadway (I was an idealistic 17 year-old) and this would be the first step in getting there. I think back to that decision now and realize what that coach did was empower me to make a decision. He didn’t tell me what to do; he didn’t persuade me to join his team. He told me to think about the pros and cons of both sides and really think about how they would impact my future. What I didn’t realize then is that we can’t do everything and be everything for everyone. I thought I could handle the lead and running; my coach knew that was not realistic but empowered me to make the decision.

As a teacher, I’ve learned one of the best things I can do is to empower you, my students.  I can give you a voice in my classroom. I can help you see the potential you possess--whether that be in your writing, in what you say, in the arguments you make, in the kind acts you perform. But what do you do with that empowerment? Do you empower yourself in the decisions you make? Do you take advantage of every single situation?

Here’s where I’ve seen you practice empowerment in the classroom. In IB English 11, you have been fighting for your “Fantasy Macbeth” team. Your voice has been important in arguing Shakespeare’s text as well as tackling logical fallacies in persuasion.

In Junior Theory of Knowledge you have been exploring knowledge in the arts and what that looks like. In examining whether or not art can imitate life, you created sculptures that represented your own understanding of life. Your ability to express yourself in that class is due empowerment.

In Senior Theory of Knowledge, I taught the best lesson I have ever taught in 18 years of teaching. What you did on our One Percent Day empowered each other and me. I looked around the room as we were doing that exercise to make us one percent better, and truly was amazed. Tears welled in my eyes and still do as I think about the kindness that you bestowed upon one another and to me that day.

So what do you do now? Empower someone else. Give someone else the confidence to believe in himself. Congratulate other people on their successes; don’t just thrive on yours. Build each other up. As IB students you have so many stresses and expectations derived from other people. Instead of fending for yourself with those stresses, help one another. When my sister went to Cornell University, she arrived as a pre-med major. She quickly changed her major after she was absent from class one day. No one in the class would share their notes with her when she asked to borrow them. The environment there was so cutthroat that helping a friend who was sick and missed class was out of the question. You have the ability to empower one another by working together. Remember, you are stronger in numbers when you do that.

What else do you do? Empower yourself. Work on becoming more confident. Believe in yourself. This past month in Senior TOK, one of the seniors said something in a seminar that stuck with me: “There also are roses that grow from concrete.” I love the optimism in that statement. So, I encourage you to believe in yourself. Be that rose that grows from the concrete--that person who can blossom no matter what the environment because of hard work, determination, collaboration, confidence. Own a positive attitude. Empower yourself with confidence. And know that I never stop believing in you as my students.

So did I make the right decision in choosing the play over cross country? Well, I never made it to Broadway, but today, I am a runner. I'm not sure about what to make of that irony. What I've learned more than anything is that I may not have made the decision that led me to my ultimate career, but I was empowered to make a decision for myself. In turn, I developed a confidence in myself that I use every single day in the classroom. I didn't get that confidence from taking on the lead in the school play. I couldn't learn that confidence any faster had I chosen running. I learned it because someone thought enough to empower me to make that decision. For that, I am grateful.

Passion from the Sidelines

Passion from the Sidelines

In the six years that I knew my father-in-law before he passed away, he spoke of how he was recruited for the Randolph Macon College basketball team when he was a senior at Douglas Freeman High School. Paul Webb, the coach of RMC, went to Freeman to recruit some basketball players. He didn’t like what he saw that day, but he did like one kid. That kid was standing on the sidelines, waving a towel in the air over his head, cheering the team on with his loud, boisterous voice. That kid was my father-in-law, Jay Pace, and was the first person to be recruited as a manager at Randolph Macon.

Each weekend, I have the opportunity to watch my own seven year-old son Jack play basketball. While I do like to watch him play, what I like more is watching him when he’s not playing. At seven, it’s hard to keep the attention of the kids when they’re not playing in the game. Most sit on the sidelines and talk or squirm in their seats. Yet, when Jack’s on the sidelines, he is always standing, cheering on his teammates. He can talk about every play in great detail after the game. Jack reminds me so much of what I envisioned my father-in-law to be like when he was recruited to manage the basketball team at Randolph Macon. Both of them have a passion--even when they are not the center of attention, even when they’re not playing the game.

This month, I want to talk to you about what it means to live passionately. I had a student ask me today why I keep coming back to Atlee day after day. What an easy question for me to answer. I return because I am passionate about what I do. I enjoy being with you on a daily basis. I am not afraid to make fun of myself when I mess up, and I know that you might be the only audience who will humor me with my Pace puns. I love seeing you grow from unsure about something to completely confident. My passion lies in watching you write and learn and think and change.

Right before he died, Steve Jobs recorded a speech where he asked, “If today was the last day of your life, would you want to do what you are about to do today?” What a great question. To me the answer is yes. It is always yes. This is what it means to live passionately. So, I thank you for the passion you exert on a regular basis in my classroom.

Juniors, you demonstrated your passion in writing original poems on issues of social injustice.

You also have just finished their first major IB assessment--the individual oral commentary. You spoke eloquently for 6-8 minutes on a Langston Hughes poem, a feat you never thought you would accomplish when I initially told you about this assessment in September. During what I deemed as "Langston Hughes Week," many of my colleagues were asking how I could listen to 58 commentaries--19 hours of listening. Yet, it’s a beautiful thing to hear your students so well versed in what you’ve taught them. Passion was there, for sure. The hard work, the hours of practice, the review games, truly paid off.

Seniors in TOK, you are about to finish the TOK course this month with your final assessment, a presentation. Teaching this course has changed me as a person and a thinker. I hope it has changed you as well. I also hope you continue to spend your last few months at Atlee High School living passionately--soaking up opportunities to be with friends, talk to your teachers, learn from one another. You have written a 4000 word essay on something you were passionate about. You have expressed daily opinions in the form of seminars, presentations, and polls. Continue to inspire those around you at Atlee by sharing your passions.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t like to be the center of attention, but I try to embrace what makes me uncomfortable--another way to live passionately. When my giant head showed up on stage during Mr. AHS last Saturday, I can assure you I was doing just that. You don’t have to be the star player to live passionately. You just have to have an idea. You have to think outside the box. You have to love what you do and have a desire to share that with others. You have to wave that towel in the air over your head or cheer for your team on the sidelines when the rest of your team isn’t paying attention. Thank you for being students who do just that.