The First Day of School

Tomorrow is the first day of school and I am so excited to meet my new students and see what's in store for me this semester. I've always loved the first day of school, it's such a big deal for kids. I guess it's kind of like the adult equivalent of a New Year. Tomorrow is going to set the stage for the next year of their lives. I was a little worried about teaching fifth graders because I taught second grade last, and at that age, they're still so sweet. But my cooperating teacher said not to worry, that they are still just little kids in bigger kids' bodies. I'm looking forward to meeting them tomorrow and getting to know them. I'm sure I'll have some stories to tell.
This photo is of me on the first day of school in first grade. I couldn't wait for school to start, and the first day was such a big deal. I absolutely loved school at this age. Later, not so much. Then even later, like in college, I began liking it again, on the occasions that I had good professors and some interesting material to work with. I feel like my education could have been much better. I hope it's better for the kids I teach than it was for me. They deserve it.

In Memory of Danny

Today is the four year anniversary since my father Danny passed away. He's been on my mind a lot today, and lately in general, and I wanted to write down a few memories I had of him.
He was above all, an artist, and most of all, an artist of life. He was amazing with several artistic mediums and was gifted at painting, drawing, photography, and sculpture. But his life was his ultimate masterpiece. He was in Costa Rica on archeological digs, and in Morocco, Spain and Italy traveling with my mom. He was mysteriously beating the slot machines in the Caribbean islands, and arriving at Easter Island on a canoe with a buddy, hoping not to get beheaded by the local tribal chief, who luckily for him, thought he was a God and treated him like a king.
He was always collecting things; cameras, foreign currency, stamps, Pre-Columbian figurines, and rocks, among other things. He liked panning for gold. He was a dreamer. He was somebody that could make friends with anybody, and if he was around, it was always a good time, because he'd be telling you a joke or singing you a folk song or sharing tales of his wild adventures. I think we've all lived vicariously through his stories, and still do. Although he had a checkered past and had done some time in jail (for starting a Porsche sting operation and smuggling goods in from Costa Rica,) he was one of the most friendly, loyal, and loving people you could ever meet. He was one of a kind and there's never going to be anyone else like him. Not having him around anymore is really tough. Although I may not have shown it enough, I loved him a lot.
I didn't see him that often, but when I did, his face lit up and he treated me like one of his favorite people in the world. He had that gift. He always made people feel special. He was so loved in our family and is greatly missed. He is gone, but will never be forgotten. I have a feeling that we will be telling stories about him for years to come.