The value of great teachers

Sweet sisters. Time is flying...they were little girls yesterday.

John John is a genuinely sweet kid. I like him a lot.

I've been up since 4 this morning, and since I lost an hour of sleep, anyway, I'm pretty tired. (We spring forward two weeks later than the U.S. Don't ask--I don't know why.) Marc left early for the airport--he's flying to Moscow and St. Petersburg for a week--and once I'm up, I'm up. I'm hoping to get a nap later.

I've been thinking about teaching and teachers this week. My friend here had an interesting experience, where suddenly she was getting all these excited emails about her teaching in Czech schools. It came as a surprise to her, but when I thought about it, I wasn't really surprised that all these people would be excited about her coming to teach English in their schools. Of course, it's wonderful to have a native speaker teaching a language, and I've heard many complaints over the last year from folks who don't like that their kids' English teacher doesn't really know all that much English. And I've watched her teach, and she's a good teacher. She knows what she's doing. But I think what makes her exciting to people is the obvious love and care she shows to her students. You cannot replace that as a teaching tool. People are drawn to someone who genuinely cares about them.

I've also been thinking about teaching and teachers because the Florida legislature has passed a piece of legislation that ties teacher pay to student performance on standardized testing. Now, I'm not a particularly political person...well, that's not really true...I'm not a publicly political person. I don't often make political statements or support a particular candidate publicly, mostly because I got into the habit of keeping that stuff to myself when I taught in public schools, but also because I can't imagine that anybody would care what I think about politics. But I'm going to say it aloud: This is a VERY BAD piece of legislation. VERY BAD. AWFUL. TERRIBLE. And here's why: if 50% of their pay is tied to how students do on standardized tests, who in their right mind is going to want to teach those kids who don't do well on tests? Who is going to teach the kids who need the best teachers? Those students who sit on the lowest quartile, who are hard to improve because they are 16 and don't speak a word of English...who will teach them? And since when did the value of a teacher rest on the results of a standardized test?

I have had the great joy of teaching for many, many years. I have taught every kind of kid there is, from the highly gifted to the highly remedial. From the kid who is headed to the Ivy League to the kid who can't spell Ivy League. In every kid I've taught, even the ones who were "bad" in terms of behavior and grades, there was a redeeming something. There is something to love in every child, whether they can perform on a standardized test or not. And here's the really important thing: If I had never taught anyone but those who would make me look good on a test, I would have missed out on some of the best moments of my teaching career. Because you know what? Those kids who succeed on every standardized test? They would have succeeded without me. With some exceptions, those kids have lots of encouragement and lots of folks in their corner. But those kids who don't normally succeed on a test? They could use a good coach, someone who thinks they can do something worthwhile, contribute to society, be good citizens, whether or not they can do algebra or figure out the tone of a piece of writing.

My own children have benefited so much from great teachers, people who saw something in them that was worth loving. Sarah Beth would not have made it through 3rd grade without Kim Miskowski as her teacher. With a terribly sick mother and a baby brother she didn't know if she'd ever see, Sarah Beth's 3rd grade shoulders bore too much weight. But Kim was there and helped her through every step of the way. She found a way to show her love for a frightened little girl, and in doing that, found a way to help her do well in school. Hannah found so much love and comfort in Sarah Clark, her music and science teacher last year, who helped her through the transition of being in Moscow. Without Sarah's influence, without her love and caring, I'm not sure Hannah would have survived what was a very rough year for her. And there are no words for how much Natalie Richardson, John's second grade teacher, did for him. Natalie managed to see good in John even when he wasn't at his best. If Natalie said, "He's such a good kid," to me once, she said it a thousand times. Encouragement for him and for his Mom...that takes someone special. And what is the thread that ties together these three examples? None of them had anything to do with how my kids did on tests. Instead, my kids benefited from the intangibles that make a great teacher--that extra something that is special about the people who love our children. You can't measure that on a test, and you can't really quantify its importance.

My former boss once told me that it's all about the teacher standing in the classroom. Administrators can make the way as best they can given their resources, and counselors can help guide students, but at the end of the day, it's all about the teacher. And in my experience, it's the intangibles that make great teachers great. It's the love, the caring, the enthusiasm, the interest in students...those are the things that make us all look back fondly at those teachers we point to as the ones who made a difference to us. The Miskowskis and Clarks and Richardsons of the teaching world are worth their weight in gold. If we could quantify what they bring to the classroom, then I would believe in merit pay. But until then, to think that we can put into a formula some test scores and come up with what a teacher is worth...that's pretty ridiculous.

Well, I suppose I should get up and moving. I need to do spring cleaning while Marc is gone, but I think that can wait until another day. Today I am looking forward to time with my kiddos and Bible study with friends. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to take time today to thank a teacher who was instrumental in your life (and call your representative and tell him/her you are NOT happy with this new legislation if you live in Florida), and I hope your husband is bringing you Russian chocolate in a week, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Longing for my old self...just a little

Sunflowers are my favorite. These were in Berchtesgaden, Germany.

"I am the Alpha and Omega," says the Lord God, "who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty." Revelation 1:8

This won't be long. I have only a few minutes of quiet--John is occupied for a little bit, but that never lasts for long, and I have to have quiet in order to write. I don't know if you'll remember or not, but I started reading through the Bible last April, and I'm just about to the end. I've kind of dreaded Revelation, because I've read it before and been kind of lost, but today's reading wasn't too confusing. Of course, I realize today's reading was only the first chapter!

So here is my confession for the day--I am dreading the next four days, not because of what is happening here, but because of what is happening at home. You see, the North Florida Passion Play begins tonight at our home church in Middleburg, Florida, and it is the first time they've done it without our family. They don't need us to do it, certainly, and I've always known that. But we enjoyed doing it so much as a family that it's hard to be here and know that it's going on there. Does that make sense? It was something our whole family participated in--Marc and Sarah Beth worked on the technical end (and Sarah Beth performed when she was younger), Hannah was one of the children in the opening, and I sang in the choir. Okay, John sat in child care quite a bit (he saw a performance once), because he was little when we left. But the rest of us were heavily, heavily involved. And even more than I miss the involvement, I miss being the person I was when we were involved.

It will come as a shock to those who only know me as a missionary, but in my former life, I sang publicly quite a bit. And though from time to time I struggled with why I loved it so much, I generally just love singing. Love it. Love singing about Jesus even more than just singing. And once I gave myself a break about never feeling like I was good enough (I hit that note a little wrong, I didn't sing the right words there, etc.), it was so much fun to get up and feel like I could be used by God to contribute to a worship service or a banquet or a ladies' retreat...you get the idea. So you can imagine that it's been kind of sad for me that in the last three years, I've only sung once in public--at a school event in Moscow. And I could give you a list of things God has taught me by virtually taping my mouth shut, but that's not really what this post is about.

So what is this post about? I'm glad you asked. :) It's about being thankful for the life we led before we left, just like I'm thankful for the life we've led since we came to Europe. It's about being thankful for our church, which has provided so many amazing memories for us. It's about it being okay to be homesick when something cool is going on, and not thinking that makes me a bad missionary. If we could afford the ticket, I promise you we would have taken vacation and gone home for this--it was that big a part of our lives. And though I hope to be asleep when they start the first performance tonight (it'll be around 1 a.m. here), I will say one last prayer before I hit my pillow, not just that the performance will go smoothly, but that the thousands of people who will attend over the next four days will be drawn closer to the One who loved them enough to send His Son to die for them.

Well, it's time to get started on my day. John has been quiet for just about as long as his nine-year-old self can handle it. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are thankful for the amazing experiences God has given you in the past, and that the smoke from Jesus' empty tomb doesn't filter into the kitchen and set off the fire alarms during your Passion Play performance tonight. (Smile. That was just for Marc.) Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Jesus loves you

I know this isn't the best quality, but I love the look on Hannah's face. When she and Larissa are together, there is a lot of laughter.

Our little leprechaun on her birthday. If you're wondering, that is both a leprechaun hat and a tiara on her head. We didn't name her "beautiful princess" for nothing.

The birthday girl and her requested breakfast--Momma's cinnamon rolls. You get what you want on your birthday!

In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. I John 4:10-11

Spring seems to have finally sprung here in Plzen, Czech Republic, and I could not be happier about that. Those of you in Texas who still have snow on the ground--I feel your pain. Ours is finally gone, and though I really do like snow, I'm ready for a new season to arrive. I was here last spring, and so I know that there is no more beautiful place on earth in the spring than the Czech Republic. I am looking forward to flowers and colors and blue skies for a while.

I've been thinking lately about Facebook, about status updates and what they mean and what they tell us about people. I have friends from all walks of life, and so I really have an interesting read when I get up each morning. Some are very political, some are very deep and meaningful, some are very spiritual, and mine...I basically tell you what we had for dinner. I am not working toward deep and meaningful on the old Facebook status--but I have been told that it's fun for our friends on the other side of the world to know a little about our lives here. It's also nice for my parents and aunt and sisters...they can keep up with what's happening with us, with the kids, etc. And, to be honest, I enjoy reading about what's going on in everyone else's life, offering a joke when I can (because I AM funny, Marc and Sarah Beth) or some encouragement when it's needed. I'm not saying that Facebook is my main ministry or anything, but I think it can be a tool to help people.

So what I've been thinking about is what would my status be if I had to boil it down to the most basic thing I want you to know? What if Facebook WERE my only ministry? What would I say on my status? Here's what I've come up with (and it's not original in any sense): Jesus loves you. It's the most important thing you can know, not about me, but about yourself. He loves you. The Lord of everything, the Creator, the Son of God...He loves you. Crazy about you. Died for you. Rose again for you. And I'm not saying for mankind in general. I'm saying for YOU.

When we moved to Moscow, one of the things that made me uncomfortable was beggars. These aren't (generally) like homeless people in America, who often seemed to be middle aged or younger. Most of the beggars in Moscow are older people, generally women. And they sit on their knees and put their noses as close to the ground as possible. And it kills me. It still bothers me when I see it. They are someone's babushka (grandmother in Russian). I truly adore old folks. So to see them begging...it hurts me. So we often gave our change. (It's a thin line to walk...how to approach this subject.) But I didn't want to just give them ten rubles, walk away, and feel good about myself. I wanted to say something meaningful to them in those few seconds. So one of the first things I learned to say in Russian--Jesus loves you. And when we would give them our small change, I would whisper it to them. Jesus loves you. Jesus loves you. Jesus loves you.

Because I have worked in public schools for most of my career, I have many, many friends who are not believers. They would consider themselves Christian in the sense that they are not Jewish or Muslim, but not in the sense of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. If you are one of those people, here's what I want you to know. Jesus loves you. No matter what you've done, haven't done, no matter how "bad" you've been or haven't been. He doesn't care about you cleaning up to come to Him. He doesn't care if you've been "good," either. He doesn't care if you're a Democrat or a Republican. (Don't get me started on the Facebookers who put "I vote how Jesus would vote" on their information....drives me NUTS.) He doesn't care if you come to a Baptist church or a Methodist church or an Episcopal church. He loves you, and He died for you, and He rose again for you, and He is desperate to have a relationship with you. And all the other stuff that you see in the news--Christians fighting amongst themselves about stupid things that don't matter--ignore it. That is NOT Jesus. That's us. And we are often stupid.

And if you are a believer, how about we make a deal. How about we stop fighting. How about we stop distracting and detracting from the good news of Jesus Christ. How about we all realize along with Paul that the world is full of sinners, of whom I am the worst and just get over ourselves, our pet projects, our pet issues. How about we cut each other a break. What if we gave that a try for a while?

Well, I'm off to Prague for the day, so I'd better run. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that Jesus loves you so much, and that your husband is fixing supper tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

My Lifetime Movie

John's amazing cake--courtesy of Sarah Beth and her decorating skills.

John's closest friend, Laini. They accepted Christ on the same day, were baptized together, and they really love one another so much. There is something special about these two.

Hannah and Sarah Beth made this face, too--it's a Nerf target for him to shoot instead of shooting them. All three were pretty excited about it!

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

This is the first morning in several that I've gotten up and not immediately spiked a fever, so I am thoroughly enjoying my second cup of coffee and some peace and quiet and time to think. The flu has reared its ugly head in the Hooks household this week, and it has not been pretty. Marc and John have remained pretty much unaffected, but the Hooks girls have been just this side of disgusting. I'm hoping that when they get up, the flu will also have run its course with them, and we can all enjoy not feeling so terrible.

When I am sick, my mind does weird things. And this week, one of the things I've been thinking about is Lifetime movies. Now, let me say up front--I love a good Lifetime movie. They're pretty harmless, they don't have bad language, they aren't usually too graphic for me to watch, and they almost always have some woman who overcomes some kind of terrible odds. I like a good woman-overcoming-odds movie. I really do. But the titles. The titles are so goofy sometimes. It's usually some statement, a colon, and then the name of the woman whose story is being told. Something like: "Bathtime for Baby: The Betty Richardson Story." So, in my fever-induced daze, I started thinking about what my Lifetime movie would be titled. And I kept coming back again and again to something Marc's grandmother said to him once on the phone. She was a little confused in her latter years, and once, when he was in high school, he picked up the phone to find his Nana on the other line. "I lost me. But I found myself again." So I've decided to borrow from Nana and make that my Lifetime movie title--"I Lost Me, but I Found Myself Again: The Kellye Hooks Story." What do you think?

We should find out this week the exact date we will leave Europe and head home for our Stateside. It involves our candidate consultant, being on the field for so many days, etc. It's nothing I want to get into here, because it's kind of complicated (read that as "I don't totally understand it myself"), but no matter what date they come back with, we are somewhere around 125 days away from going home. And to be completely honest, I'm not sure how to feel about that. Don't get me wrong--I can't wait to see my Momma and Daddy, my sisters and brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews, aunts, uncles, friends. And I need a break. I have not seen my home country for nearly three years, and I am ready to touch some American soil. But in many ways, I feel like I have just gotten my feet steady here, just gotten my sea legs, so to speak. To leave, transition back to my old life for a time, then come back to the field...it seems like a lot to me right now. Because in so many ways, I am not the person I was when I left the U.S. on October 3rd, 2007.

For the entire first year on the field, I felt so lost. Imagine going from my former life--where I had enjoyed so much professional success, loved my job, loved my church, loved living close to family--to a life where I didn't speak the language, didn't understand the culture, didn't understand the weather, and most of all, didn't understand what I was supposed to do. I was so used to being the go-to gal in my former life...and suddenly, no one really wanted my help or my opinion about anything (for good reason--I wasn't in any position to help anyone). I had to rely on other people to help me through illness (imagine trying to find medicine for your child in a language you don't read, yet), through grocery shopping (I had a bag of potatoes thrown at me once because I didn't do something right), through plugging stuff in (don't even ask how many things I blew up because I couldn't get the right adapter on anything)...I was just basically useless, and I didn't like it AT ALL. Ask my family. Ask my sister, Cathy, who talked to me on Christmas Eve as I sobbed because our church didn't acknowledge American Christmas Eve (I snuck down the hall to the Korean Church, where they were singing carols, stood outside, and cried). Or ask Kay how many times I said I just hated everything about my life. Or my poor parents...who probably spent the entire first year on their knees for me. I was miserable, my kids were miserable, and poor Marc...poor Marc loved Russia so much that he wasn't miserable, and don't think I didn't make him pay for that!

So what happened? How did I find myself again? I stopped caring about what other people thought about me. I started caring about listening to whatever advice I could find. I was open and honest about how miserable I was to those who could help me, but I stopped complaining 24/7 to my family at home. I stopped relying on my emotions, which lied to me again and again and again. I made friends and actually asked for help. And for a while, I just faked it. I stood at my kitchen window and sang, "It is Well with My Soul" to the 50,000 people who lived in my block, even though I didn't feel like anything was well with my soul, because I came to understand that no matter what I felt, no matter what my emotions were telling me, it would be well with my soul again. Seasons pass, times change, people leave the field, people come to the field...and one thing alone remains the same--the God of Everything is still there, still loves me, still holds me securely, and still has a plan for my life. It didn't always feel good. It wasn't always fun. But after a time, I found myself again. It was a different me, a me changed forever by my experience up close and personal with the God of the Universe, but it was me, nonetheless.

So I'm praying as we get ready to return to the States for a time that I will take those lessons with me, that the old Kellye is forever gone, that the new Kellye is going to be making the trip home. And that if they ever do make "I Lost Me, but I Found Myself Again: The Kellye Hooks Story," Reese Witherspoon will play me. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your Lifetime movie is being written by the One who loves you most, and that you are looking forward to a day without a fever, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye