The Importance of A Primary Text

Posted on February 28, 2012 by Abby Norman

We are in full on PhD mode at the Norman house. Christian is in the middle of writing at least two of his major papers for the semester, which includes researching for those papers even during spring break.

Before you feel to sorry for him, you should know that one of Christian’s major papers is about the evolution of metaphor in the X-Men comic books. So some of his research involves pulling out his comic book collection and leafing through those bad boys. It may not sound very academic but it is important.

The very basic academic theory is this: If you are going to write about something, you should read that something, not what other people think about it, what does it actually say? Then draw your conclusions from there.

If any of you were smarty pants students and took AP history, you learned about a primary text. Rather than study what the book says about Ben Franklin’s thoughts on the constitution, how about read a letter from him to someone about it. Then make your conclusions based on that. Not that other commentary isn’t important, but for serious study we need to look at the primary texts.

I am learning that the academic standard is God’s standard as well. He is okay with me reading Bible commentary and spiritual blogs. But I shouldn’t substitute it for His word. God doesn’t want me to base decisions for my family or draw conclusions about Him and our relationship based solely on what Beth Moore or Priscilla Shirer say about God. Those ladies definitely help point me toward the truth, but they don’t speak THE TRUTH. And I think they would say the same thing, you have to get into the word. You will grow when you understand better what it says.

Bible commentaries and spiritual books are awesome, but we have to put a priority on the primary text. The question is not “what does this awesome spiritual person say about what God says?” The question is “what does God say?” And I need to spend more time looking at the primary text.

To Those of You Involved with Inman Middle School

Posted on February 27, 2012 by Abby Norman

To Those of You Involved with Inman Middle School,

On Saturday I got my girls dressed and took them to see the middle school cheerleading competition. I was invited by my sister, who goes to the Bible study that your cheerleading coach, Tae Baker goes to too. Really with two under two I will take any excuse to get out of the house with another adult in tow.

I am so glad I did. The Inman girls were phenomenal. They did things that I did not know middle school girls were capable of. I could tell that somewhere along the way someone convinced them that they were capable of great things. I have coached other activities in the past, and I know that this is the hardest part of coaching, convincing the kids that they are capable of more than they are settling for. Pushing them to be even better than they knew they could be. Coach Baker managed to get the very best out of those girls.

The routine was great, and the execution was phenomenal, but that was not what I was thinking about the rest of the weekend. The moment that stayed with me this morning as I walked into the classroom that I teach in everyday, was the moment right after the music stopped. I was sitting at the top of the bleachers, and even from there I could see on Coach Baker’s face just how proud he was of his cheerleaders. They knew too. As soon as they could they mobbed him.

Those girls, in that moment, knew that they were capable of big things. They knew that they could do something of value. They knew that there was someone who wanted them to succeed, someone who was rooting for them. They were proud of themselves, and they were proud that they had made someone who cared about them proud. The bar was raised on what exactly was their very best.

I know that moment will stay with my some of those girls for a very long time. I still have some of mine from girlhood. There are so many pressures for these girls, to act a certain way, or be a certain thing. I watched a layer of protection from all of those pressures form over those girls on Saturday. “I am capable of big things, and Coach Baker thinks so too.”

I found out through a text message after I left the event, that the Inman cheerleaders took first place. I am not surprised. They earned it. But on Saturday, they took home so much more than that. I am thankful that I was there to witness it. I know my girls are tiny, but my oldest already looks up to those Inman cheerleaders. I am proud she has chosen such good role models.

Sincerely,

Abby Norman

When good enough is good enough

Posted on February 21, 2012 by Abby Norman

I never would say that I am a perfectionist. I never strived for perfect grades or was overwhelmed by wanting things to be just so. Heck, I probably should be a little more careful with my edits on this thing. (Lucky for me I have a truly supportive husband who goes back through and quietly corrects my spelling errors.) I thought I didn’t really deal with that.

Thought is the operative word there. When Rooster was still in the hospital we got some pictures of her done that were simply too perfect not to buy. I was sure I wouldn’t want them, but then I saw them. I know why some religions think a still image can capture a person’s soul. Then I looked back at Peanut’s new-born photos. I found the picture there that speaks to the fact that there are simply some things, beautiful things, that God creates in us from the very beginning. And these photos compliment each other in a way that I did not plan, just like those sisters that are in those photos.

So I bought frames and printed out these pictures. I had every intention of hanging them on the wall. But then, I just couldn’t find the perfect spot. I didn’t know the perfect place to hang these photos. So I waited, and bought another picture to hang with them, and waited some more. Until two weekends ago a half hour before people started coming to our house, I pulled the trigger and had Christian put them up. Even though the third thing I want hanging up is still in need of being printed out (but I did buy frames, so there is something). And you know what, it isn’t perfect, but I am glad it is up. It looks good, my wall in progress.

This past weekend was a pants-less weekend at our house. Not for me, just for the Peanut (Aside: If I ever have a band full of mom’s and dad’s I am naming it “Pants-less Weekend” like many aspects of parenting it sounds like more fun than it really is.) She has been talking about potties for a while now, and likes to watch other people go to the bathroom and give her commentary. Mostly “eeewww, yuck. all done. shut it, flush.” People always say that you have to potty train while the window of interest is open or else it is a nightmare. I have been worried that the Peanut is losing interest, so we spent Friday and Saturday hanging out watching movies and sitting on the potty in the living room while drinking juice. She did a good job for the most part, and even the accidents happened almost exclusively on places that are not carpeted.

But I was wanting perfection. I was hoping that we would remove her pants and she would immediately figure out how the whole thing worked and bam, my not yet two-year old is potty trained. It didn’t work out like that, and once Jill pointed out to me that perhaps my sights were set too high, it all got a whole lot easier.

Teaching is like that too. You will never be a perfect teacher; you can always do better. I am reminded of that every day as I teach ninth grade for the first time. It isn’t going to be perfect, it isn’t going to be as good as the tenth grade stuff I am teaching for the fifth time. But that doesn’t mean we should just sit in class and do nothing. We try it out; we work it out. Next year it will be better, but that doesn’t mean the kids now aren’t learning anything valuable.

I think we don’t come to Christ sometimes because we aren’t doing something perfectly. We are ashamed and frustrated that it isn’t perfect yet. Sometimes we won’t give him our writing, our school work, our prayer because we don’t think what we’ve got is perfect. But that isn’t what Christ is asking from us. He is asking us for what we have, and in Him our good enough is made perfect, what we were hoping for by withholding it.

Notice Me

Posted on February 14, 2012 by Abby Norman

I was sitting around a table the other day where we were talking about our church, how we could do it better. We got around to talking about visitors, what we were doing right, what we were doing wrong. A woman I have a deep respect for, she is just so genuine, started talking about her dentist’s office. I know, I thought it was a weird rabbit to chase at first too. But then she explained that everyone at her dentist’s office had been trained to be present. They were told to make eye contact, not multi task, be active listeners. This woman said she felt better leaving the dentist than she did leaving the spa. Wow. Sign me up for a teeth cleaning.

The other day a student was trying to tell me a story. At first I was listening, but then….I got distracted. I was passing out papers or looking through other papers, or collecting other papers (I teach english, I have a lot of papers.) Who knows what I was doing, but I wasn’t listening anymore. He lowered his voice and banged his hands on his desk. He looked at me and cried out “NOTICE ME!”

I suppose it wasn’t the most respectful thing to do. I am his teacher after all. And this is the south. Perhaps, “excuse me ma’am” would have been better. I guess that is why I like freshman. Both of us are sometimes missing a filter. “Notice Me.” He isn’t the most popular kid; some of his peers think he is kind of weird…so they ignore him. In that moment, that was what his heart was calling out for, please someone notice me. Hear me. Show me that I matter.

I have heard formerly homeless people say that worse than living on the streets, or eating garbage, is consistently being ignored. Having hundreds or even thousands of people walk by you and not one make eye contact makes you feel less than human. Confirms the fear that we all have that we don’t really matter.

Even the Peanut and Rooster are not immune to needing to be noticed. It seems to be something we are born with, not something we grow into. Sometimes the Peanut will shove her little face between me and my computer, put her hands on mine. “Hi!” She’ll say. Yes love, you are right. It is time to notice you. Even the Rooster, our little contented baby, will give you those two incredible dimples if you squeeze a toe and ask her how she is doing. “Oh wow” her face says, “Thanks for noticing me down here. I noticed you too, you are lovely.”

It is Valentine’s day. Here at the school I work, you couldn’t possibly miss it. A number of my kids are walking around with teddy bears or balloons. Some gifts were not from boyfriends or girlfriends. Some were simply from friends. Maybe it is silly or shallow that these things make them happy. But today they walk around with proof that someone thought of them, cared for them, noticed them.

We are half way through I Love My Neighbor month at church, where we agree to make a concerted effort to actively love those around us. I’ve baked cupcakes and invited people over. I’ve picked up coffee for a colleague. All of these things are the same. All of these things say, “Hey, I was thinking about you. I noticed you. I saw that you had this need or that want. I noticed that you exist and I think you matter.”

I think there is a little freshman boy in us all. Hopefully we smell better, but I think there is a piece of us crying out “Notice Me!” Read my blog, friend me on Facebook, tell me my shoes are cute! Please somebody notice me today. Sometimes I am so busy noticing myself, my phone, my computer, my needs that are not being met, that I don’t have time to notice anyone else.

But here is where I have found the beautiful paradox of the gospel. When I notice you, truly notice, there is a piece of my soul that is noticed too…that need of mine is lessened. We noticed each other.

Secrets aren’t any fun

Posted on January 25, 2012 by Abby Norman

I am teaching ninth grade this year for the first time. I really enjoy the kid’s willingness to try just about any crazy activity I can come up with, and the fact that most of them don’t have pre-conceived notions about any of the literature, means I have the chance to convince them that it is in fact interesting and applicable to their lives. I like that. It suits me.

I especially like when the ninth graders suddenly realize that Shakespeare is not as wholesome as they once assumed. Among other hilarious commentary that has been blurted out in my classroom:

– Somebody told me that when they were talking about swords they meant something else, is that true?

– Romeo’s talking about doing it!

– Did the Friar just ask Romeo if he hit it? (To which one of my students replied: What does hit it mean?)

– She doesn’t want to die a virgin!

It is amazing to me that every year a few parents complain about the adult material we are reading in class and yet no one ever complains about Romeo and Juliet which is easily the baudiest thing I have ever taught.

I hadn’t read Romeo and Juliet since I was in the ninth grade, and this time around I am struck by the secrecy of the whole story, and how Shakespeare uses that as a vehicle for the drama and urgency. The whole play takes place in four days.

I think secrecy does make everything more dramatic, feel more urgent. When I look back at the terrible decisions I made, the dumbest stuff I did was done, at least initially, in secret. (The reason we didn’t tell anyone about the timeshare we no longer own is because we knew everyone would tell us it was stupid. Because it was stupid.) I am 28 and this is still true: If I can’t tell my mom about it, I shouldn’t be doing it.

But I think the Bible covers that too, that things in the darkness are brought in to the light. I used to think that was a warning to the wicked and I would cling to it and yell it when I was sure there were dirty dealing going on. But lately I have been seeing it as a gentle reminder to me, that it will be better if I am just honest about it. Whatever that it may be.

Privilege

Posted on July 5, 2011 by Abby Norman

Privilege, it seems like the more I avoid writing on something the more I am bombarded with the issue. And privilege is what I have been thinking a lot about lately. It started with the big school move (detailed here). But then I started reflecting on my birth experience to get myself prepped for the next one (post to come soon….I hope) and then there was some sort of public twitter blogger-word-fight about poverty tourism surrounding Heather Armstrong. One of my favorite bloggers, Katie Granju, wrote about the whole thing as did mom-101 and many, many others. And for me it all boils down to privilege, and what responsibility (if any) does privilege come with?

What is privilege? Who decides who is and who isn’t? Is it always about money? I feel like I am stepping into a whole pile of stuff that is too deep for me to surf through. But it is what is going on with me, in my life. So here goes nothing.

I realized that I was resenting my new students for the privilege that they have. Their school is beautiful and well maintained. No graffiti in the bathroom stalls, always toilet paper. 20 different AP possibilities to choose from. Every sport imaginable, (including a quidditch club). And as a teacher if I need or want something for my classroom? I simply attach the need to my syllabus and the students have the resources to get it for me. When I say resources, I don’t just mean money. They have parents who value education and have the time to be supportive, transportation to the store, an office supply store in their neighborhood. All of the things that set the kids up to succeed. And you know what? It isn’t their fault they have all of those things. And it isn’t their fault that my old students didn’t have all of those things.

But mostly God held up a mirror and said, “Really Abby, a 27 year old able bodied white woman in America, raised in a Christian two parent home.You are going to hold people’s privilege against them?” Yeah, rich, I know. I am privileged. As a woman I was born in a place where I didn’t have to live in a fear of my womanhood, it didn’t equal a death sentence or a mandatory marriage at 15. I was entitled to a free education until I was 18. And the blessings the Lord bestowed on my family growing up……I could write forever and not get everything down. And yet, I was looking at these kids and blaming them. For all that is unjust in this world. Which isn’t fair.

Privilege isn’t fair. Some people are born with more than others. And if your in the more category (and if you are reading this, you probably are) what does that mean? What responsibility do we have? This year I hope to teach my students about people who have less than they do. People without safe homes or clean drinking water. I want to inspire them to use the things they have access to to make someone else’s life better. And I want them to understand that just because you recognize your privilege, doesn’t mean you are saying that you and your parents aren’t working hard. It just means you were also blessed.There is no shame in that. But there needs to be some sort of realization that some people work just as hard as you, harder than you and still come up short.

That is why I respect Heather Armstrong so much. She acknowledges her privilege. Recognizes that in a lot of ways she is just really really lucky. And she is using her position as the most successful blogger on the block to benefit other people. People who otherwise I would never think or hear about. That is what I want to do with my students. Inspire them to use their privilege for good.