Thirty-six weeks after starting this blog in crisis, I'm teaching my students to dream big and write it down. Here's what happened when writing became my way back to hope.
The Friend Who Taught Me the Difference Between Surviving and Living
My friend believes the best of her life is behind her—just like I used to. Here's what happened when I challenged her to dream again, and why I bought a piano the next day.
Using Rhetoric to Fall in Love: A Teacher’s Guide to Choosing Charming
My students are studying persuasive essays, and I realized I'm basically writing one about whether to fall in love with Charming. Using ethos, pathos, and logos, here's my argument for opening my heart again.
When God Shows Up in Grammar Lessons: Finding Faith After Heartbreak
Teaching subject-verb agreement to teenagers taught me something unexpected about the rules of love, loss, and letting God back into a guarded heart.
Pulling Up Dying Impatiens: Why I Can’t Regret My Divorce
Replacing summer flowers with fall mums, I faced the hardest question: why did I choose divorce? Sometimes you have to pull up dying things to make room for God's chalkboard promise: "Behold, I make all things new."
The Selfie I Took in the Storm That Changed Everything
After our perfect second date, I sat on my porch in the hurricane rain and captured something I hadn't felt in years: hope. Here's why I almost didn't write about it.
Embracing Fall After Divorce: How I Learned to Stop Hiding My Scars
Divorce felt like wearing a scarlet letter until I met someone who showed me scars don't define us. Sometimes the most healing conversations happen with strangers who become mirrors.
Single Teacher Falls for Autumn Instead of Prince Charming: Writing My Own Part II
My tenth graders studied fairy tale archetypes today. The damsel needs rescuing; the hero needs a quest. But I mow my own lawn and fix my own electrical sockets. Maybe my Part II is about falling in love with fall instead of falling for a fantasy.
Two Shootings in Five Days—But My Evening Glories Keep Me Writing on This Porch
So when are you moving?' the officer asked after the second shooting. But it's my evening glories that shield me from the foster home's porch light, Mrs. Washington who talks gardens with me. Twenty-eight weeks ago, I started writing in a document called 'I Used to Be.' Now I bloom where I'm planted—gunshots and all.
What I Wish I Could Tell My Students About Failure
She reminds me of myself at sixteen—dreaming big, planning for perfection. But life has taught me something she doesn't know yet: we don't plan to fail, but we need to learn how to hope when we do.