Bean Carries On

From the Classroom to the Reservations

Travel

About Going Home

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When I left the U.S. two years ago, I thought it was very possible that I would not return for many years. I had my eyes set on Cambodia to help educate and empower women there.

I guess I didn’t see then what I see so clearly now, that the people in the U.S. need my help first.

After years of working on my own self-love and self-empowerment, I feel stronger than ever that I have to help empower other women, and continue to empower teenagers, to use their voices and work to make this world the best possible place for all living beings. I want to fight for women’s rights and access to education and equality all around the world, but I can only do that once I know my own country, and all of its people, are strong.

Therefore, I have decided to take a break from the traditional high school English literature and composition teaching role and put my energy into empowering women and teenagers on Native American reservations around the U.S. In doing so I hope to gain the perspective I need to make a long term impact on the world of education and women’s rights.

For the next leg of my journey, I will travel around the U.S. with my best friend, Lindsey, to volunteer our time to the Natives on various reservations (to be determined). After Lindsey joined the natives in their important work at the Standing Rock protest in 2016, she has become more and more entrenched in the work and missions of the Natives, and I am excited to join her in working to support this community.

Lindsey and I believe that a major part to self-love and independence is confidence and strength of mind and body. She is a self-defense trainer with an amazing ability to connect with people and know just what she can do to help them. She and I are going to do whatever we can to empower Native women and teens on the Reservations.

I don’t yet know exactly what my role is going to be there, but I can see myself doing many things. Volunteering at the schools, offering after school programs like drawing and cooking and practices in mindfulness, and supporting the self-defense training however I can (until I also become trained) are things I am looking forward to. I will learn everything I can to best be able to serve the needs of these communities as I get to know them.

And, as with all great tasks, I am going to need the help of my communities, my family and friends and fellow peacemakers to be successful.

I am hosting a fundraiser here in Sao Paulo on June 9th. I will be donating all of my artworks, on which people can make a bid to purchase. It will be a silent auction, of which all proceeds will go towards this self-love and self-defense mission. I will use the money to buy supplies, food, and transportation around the U.S. as I venture from place to place.

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If you live in the states but would like to make a contribution to my journey, you can make a private donation on my GoFundMe page. I will also post a link to my artworks in case any of you really love a piece and want to have it shipped to you.

I still have every intention of making it to Cambodia someday to teach and/or volunteer, but I have realized that serving my own country is my priority right now, and I am honored to be able to return home and begin this work very soon!

Thank you for all of your love and support!

About What It Isn’t

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I don’t normally share my poems, but it’s not a normal day, and that isn’t a terrible thing. So. Here’s a poem I wrote:

 

It’s not the chickens pecking

at the newly scattered corn

that I grew in my garden

just for them, and

it’s not the bees, or

the chickens or

the goat’s milk cheese, and

it definitely isn’t

owning a tiny house on a hill

protected all around by trees

and wildflowers picked

specifically

to add flavor to the honey–

no, it’s not that.

It’s not the stars on my Maps

of places I still want to see.

It’s not even the special places

I want to see

with someone special, and

it’s not watching my niblings

grow up (okay, it’s a little bit that), or

visiting friends around the world, including

those I still get to meet, and

it’s not all that I’m going to accomplish

in my career: the degrees,

the opportunities to lead, or

the paths I’m going to pave

as I teach the world to read, and,

no, it’s not even all the new

foods I still have to eat

that make me glow from

my toes to me cheeks

when I talk about

my future.

About Carrying On

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Paty Valley in Chapada Diamantina, Bahia, Brasil

It’s too bad the title of my blog is not a reflection of a stellar ability I possess to pack so lightly that all I need when I travel is a carry-on bag; fortunately, it has everything to do with my perseverance, something I was going to need a lot of on this particular journey. Despite my reputation for overpacking, I felt confident that I was taking just what I needed for this trip, and even with my emergency kits, extra socks, a birthday outfit, remedies for the blisters I anticipated, and plenty of snacks, I still had space left in my (oversized) bag…. Guys, I packed WAY too much, again. When will I learn?!?!

 

During the week-long trip, we covered approximately 5565 kilometers (about 3,480 miles) in cars, buses, planes, by foot, and even a mule. Roughly 65 of those kilometers was meant to be done by foot with our bags strapped to our backs, though lack of specifics on Brasilian websites didn’t make this entirely clear to us from the beginning. Although I grew up in Colorado and have hiked and camped throughout my life, I quickly realized that I was not actually prepared for the grueling 4-day trip we were about to embark on. Also, despite a lifetime of trouble with sensitive feet, I hopped into the SUV in Lencois with Kahlie, Erico, our guide, Beto, and a 15 kilogram backpack (about 30 pounds….one for each year??) eager to traipse through the beautiful Paty Valley–a trip that would commence with my 30th birthday.

Now that I think about it, this trip really was like my 20s squeezed into a week: Beginning with mild-discomfort I pretended didn’t exist and an “I know what I’m doing” mindset (how much harder can one hike really be than all the others I’ve done?), packed with obstacles I never knew I had the strength to overcome (scaling a cliff next to a river), facing some fears along the way, and ending with an undeniable realization that made all the difference.

Just as happened throughout my 20s, friends stepped up to help me before I was ready to admit I needed the help. After about 5 kilometers uphill, my feet were already aching. Erico kindly traded bags with me, as his was about 12 pounds lighter, giving my feet a little relief.  A few kilometers later, after our first amazing view, I was biting my tongue–trying not to complain to my friends and guide about the increased pain in my feet. I added some mole-skin wrap to my heels to prevent any further blistering (or so I hoped) and continued down a rugged decline into the valley whose view we enjoyed over lunch. A lot like the reason I
stayed in a bad relationship throughout my 20s, I didn’t speak up about my throbbing feet: I didn’t want to seem weak. After 15 kilometers the first day, many laughs, and many internal pep-talks to keep me going up those steep inclines, we made it to our first night’s lodging. We revived our energy with an amazing home-cooked meal and a good night’s sleep.

The next morning I quickly taped up my feet, ate an energizing breakfast prepared by the homeowners, and we hiked another 18 kilometers. Thankfully we were able to leave our packs at the pousada, making the trek much more doable on my aching feet. I mentioned to Kahlie that my feet were hurting, but tried not to make too big of a deal about it. I’m glad I persevered. The views were saw this day were breathtaking. I truly felt like I was on top of the world.

 

I felt brave, exhilarated, and strong for where I had gotten myself, both in that moment, at the edge of a rock overlooking the Paty Valley, and in life–to a place where I am stronger than ever and living my dreams, confident enough to be out on my own (and with friends) experiencing the world. Independent. Motivated. Powerful.

 

These positive feelings helped me overlook my pain until we arrived at the next night’s lodging, and I removed my shoes and socks to discover I had about four new blisters on each foot. I decided in my mind that I wouldn’t be going on tomorrow’s hike if it was possible–again, reflecting my silent-resolve of two years before, when I admitted to myself that I needed to end my marriage, a relationship that at times made me feel like I was on top of the world, but most often was a painful experience. I took the needle out of  my emergency kit, sanitized it with fire, and with the light of my headlamp, I popped my blisters to relieve the pain. The next morning, my feet were throbbing. I hobbled to breakfast and finally showed the guide my feet. (Semi-graphic description and pictures follow–if you get queasy easily, you may want to skip over this part.)

He treated my blisters with a natural antibiotic called propolis, a bee bi-product. He described in portugues, and Erico translated, that he was going to poke the blisters like I had done the night before, with a needle, and then pull a string doused in the propolis through my blisters to get the medication inside and help them heal faster. Even though that scared the crap out of me, and I knew it was going to hurt, I also knew it was what I needed in order to get better (again, I couldn’t help but draw the comparison to my decision to part with my partner of 9 years–it would be painful, but it was necessary for me to get better). It was one of the strangest sensations I ever experienced, and extremely painful. Recalling the experience now still makes me quiver… I am so thankful for Kahlie who was there by my side reminding me to breathe, and to get photos of the odd experience!

At the end of Day 3, when my feet had had enough–I was just happy to have my shoes off

I rested in bed for the rest of the morning, then was able to join the group for the rest of the day’s hike (12 km) through even more beautiful and varied landscapes as we headed to the final pousada. We still had 18 kilometers to go the final day, and my feet were even worse after those 12 kms. The guide informed us that the final day’s hike was going to be the most challenging, half of it nearly straight up a very rocky terrain. He also informed us of the option to pay for a mule to carry our bags to make it easier. The old me, a younger me, wouldn’t have asked for help, but I asked if I could get a mule to carry me out, too.

 

I knew that my feet couldn’t do it anymore (like my heart two years ago when I asked for the divorce.) I was reminded of the most important lesson a person can learn, even the strongest people: we have an obligation to ourselves to speak up and ask for help when we need it. I needed this break. I needed to complete this journey with help. I needed the mule. Even with a second propolis treatment, I knew I would have had an extremely hard time hiking out of the valley and I would have endured unneeded pain for the sake of my pride. I was so thankful the entire time I was on that mule’s back. Just like I was so thankful by the support of my family and friends when I asked them to help me get my life back on track during the divorce and for the months and years following it.

Once we all met up again, we took a car ride to Poço Azul, where I made a big step towards overcoming my fear of water–I snorkeled for the first time in my life in the most beautiful, clear lagoon in a cave. The cool water soothed my aching feet and body. Putting on the mask and snorkel made my heart race, but after a few minutes and some repeated mantras that I would be okay, I relaxed and enjoyed this experience.

Swimming around looking through the water to the depths of this underwater cave was incredible, and it strengthened my resolve to try new things and push myself out of my comfort zone to reap the biggest rewards in life.

 

Just like facing an 18-year-old fear, or looking up at a mountain you are about to climb, asking for help can also make us uncomfortable when we aren’t used to it, especially for people who prefer to be the ones helping. But it would do us all some good to learn when to do what is best for ourselves and others. We have to be fearless when it comes to doing what is best, what is right. Even the most powerful, strong, independent people need to ask for help at times, for not doing so can be detrimental to ourselves and those around us. We must also become as strong as possible by not asking for help when we don’t need it, by doing all that we are capable of without complaining or being resentful.

Throughout these days leading up to my 30s, I reflected a lot about where I’ve been and where I want to go, about all the amazing people and opportunities that have come into my life that have aided in my personal growth. I am going to keep taking risks. I am going to keep adventuring. I am going to keep doing hard things. I am going to carry on with all of the lessons I have learned so far in this life, but also try to remember that I really know nothing. And I am also going to listen to myself when my mind and body tell me that I need help.

Oh, the challenges…

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Dear friends and family,

To be honest, part of my not writing since my last post was because the silence I received about an issue I care deeply about made me pretty sad. It’s ironic that the time I move away is when I am most passionate about the politics in the country I left. I don’t WANT to be making political posts on facebook and sharing about the inequality and unfairness I continue to see, but I feel like I have to. Just like I have always felt the need to stand up against the kids at school who make fun of the underdogs, against the foul words flung at friends who are different than others, against the bullying towards my mother from my little brother, against the slurs I hear from colleagues towards strangers, against the hurtful comments I hear from family and friends. I WILL NOT be quiet about my feelings, and even if I’m not the voice that all others agree with, I will always let my voice be heard, and I will always listen to other’s voices–And I hope that through these interactions that there will be growth and that kindness, empathy, and compassion will be the result.

This isn’t going to turn into another post from a soapbox, as I guess my last one must’ve come across when you’re all expecting to hear about my adventures and growth, but the lack of reaction made me continue thinking a lot about where I am in this life of mine. Life abroad has been a wildly exciting adventure….but it has also come with so many challenges, ones I never expected but am trying to overcome with a bit of grace. Here’s a deeper look into my life in the big city, three and a half months into my two year commitment.

Going from being a fairly competent adult on her own two feet, someone who feels absolutely comfortable doing things on her own (from completing basic tasks like cooking, to enjoying privileges of a single adult without children like going to dinner and a movie alone, and absolutely adoring my time and my own company) to feeling like a child again (in SO MANY WAYS) has shaken me. In fact, I was not only JillyBean
comfortable with this lifestyle, peppered with an occasional lunch date with an old roommate, dinners with friends and family, and nights hanging with my niblings, but I was learning to really love it. Take a few days off work to go on a trip to NYC for a Broadway show? Hell yes! Hop on a place to fly to see my sister’s family on the west coast? Of course! Treat myself and little sister to a jazz show, enjoy a few martinis, then bacon maple donuts the next morning? Absolutely! Drive an hour for a dinner party with people I’ve never met–why not?!

Life was finally, and peacefully, totally in my control (aside from having a full-time job and real-life adult responsibilities, too, of course 🙂 )

Then all of that stops. Suddenly– though decisively and through a series of carefully considered alternatives–I’m in a brand new place. Those friends, whose availability, and that family, whose proximity, wdeathtostock_lonely_commute-09ere a great comfort, are suddenly no longer there. My ability to navigate anything from a neighborhood to a grocery store to my way around a museum, a mall, whatever—–all gone–right out the window along with my basic ability to communicate more than “good morning” (bom dia), “Is everything okay?” (tudo bem?), and “Everything is fine” (tudo bem.)

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My free lunch at the hospital cafe after getting blood tests.

There have been COUNTLESS situations where I’ve had to depend on those around me to communicate for me here. Do you know how frustrating that is? To not be able to SPEAK for yourself? Order food/drinks for yourself, go to the doctor by yourself, ask for a prescription by yourself? After spending the last two weeks quite ill from a virus and sinus infection, and having to be taken to the doctor’s office more than once by people pulled from their jobs to translate for me, I am more determined than ever to learn the local language. Despite classes two days a week, daily Duolingo lessons, and Brazilian TV on in the background, learning portuguese is not happening as fast as I’d like, which must mean I’m not doing enough. Despite the challenge, I know it will be worth it. The ability to communicate is something I will never again take for granted.

I am so grateful for all the people who have stepped up to help,  but it is challenging to have people always doing you favors, I think. I know that makes me sound like a privileged white person (oh yeah, I am). It’s easier when it comes from friends, but when the people going out of their way to thank you hardly know you, it feels like I’m a burden, and it makes me feel like a child.

And onto the ever important topic of friends…..having to make new ones as an adult isn’t fun, and it isn’t easy. In fact, it’s a lot like trying to make friends when you’re an adolescent, only stranger. I’m not talking about making A new friend occasionally as an adult–You meet a new person and click and soon you’re having coffee and he or she fits right in with your group of friends who go out from time to time when schedules aline–I’m talking about forming a new group of friends, new friendS to spend your time with, because when you can’t so easily do things you enjoyed doing on your own any more, having people around can be an excellent way to deal. A security blanket. A comfort shield. And when you learn that the people who you first formed your blanket with don’t end up having the same values as you, it’s hard to make that shift again to realize that company is great and all, but it’s never OK to change yourself to fit in–not as a kids, a teen, or an adult. We must be who we are. I am amazed at the pressure I felt to fit in, when back home I was finally confident being me.

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I want to get more comfortable being on my own again. I’ve taken baby steps–like to the mall, the grocery store……but when I mentioned going on a small trip by myself, something I’ve been doing since I was 16 years old………a colleague looked at me like I was crazy and continued to tell me that I wouldn’t be safe doing that. Uncomfortable? For sure. Challenging? Oh hell yes it will be. But when have people ever grown by sticking to what they know and taking the easy road? Safety precautions are a must–but living in fear didn’t get me here, and it’s not going to keep me here.

And that’s not it with my list of challenges! Have you ever been on a date with someone who doesn’t speak your language…literally? The dating world I had only just gotten a taste of, filled with deep intellectual conversations about literature and theology and politics and world travel, etc. etc. is now ever more important to me, and something I long to have again. In my current dating world, conversation is kept to a much more elementary level: What’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite fruit? Do you like to cook? What do you like to cook? It’s no one’s fault. When you are attracted to someone and speak a little bit of each other’s language, I think it’s exciting and fun to put in the effort to communicate what you are able–but I certainly don’t want to be stuck in some strange 3rd grade dating world when you call a person, ask them how their day was, then breath on the phone together. img_3421OK–I better get back to my portuguese lessons! Haha.

Love to you all!

Jilly Bean

About Independence and Adventure

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After my proclamation to make the most of this life, Sao Paulo stepped up to the challenge, starting with this lovely sunrise Monday morning! The rest of the week was equally lovely.

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Quote by Howard Thurman

First, things are really clicking with my students. I have shifted my expectations a bit, in terms of culturally accepted behavior, and kept high expectations for their work, and we are all moving steadily forward. I am so lucky to have a job that I love. It makes the rest of my time in life much more fulfilling.

Second, this was truly a week to celebrate independence. Wednesday, 7 de setembro, was Brazil’s Independence Day (won from Portugal in 1822). However, compared to the over-the-top patriotism shown by Americans on the Fourth of July, the general attitude here was apathetic, like, There are still too many things wrong in our country to be celebrating this (Carnival is another story! 🙂 ) When the national anthem finished playing, an eerie silence fell over the full room. Expecting loud American-style-cheers to erupt at that moment like in the U.S., the silence felt strange and made me sad. Though it also made me grateful for the pride and joy Americans feel about our independence, and it reminded me of my joy for my own personal independence—having just passed the one-year anniversary of my divorce.

Isn’t it strange that freedom often requires fighting, that peace requires fighting? But, oh how sweet it is once we get it. It makes each moment of my life more rewarding, because I fought hard to get where I am today.

Teachers, students, and many others were granted a day of
freedom from work and school on the 7th, so I enjoyed my independence by shopping with friends, eating from a feijoada buffet, drinking spiked coconut juice, napping on my couch, and dancing to live music. I couldn’t ask for a much better respite.img_2633img_2631

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Foojammers at Willi Willie

 

 
Third, I’m making many new friends; sadly, one of them is moving away. A sweet man warned me that this would be one of the biggest rewards and challenges of living abroad—meeting amazing people, and turning around to have to tell them goodbye. Better to have loved and lost rather than to never love at all, right? This friend and her husband threw quite a lovely clear-out-the-liquor-cabinet-party, which unleashed my inner, unbeknownst-until-now, karaoke queen. I can’t recall all of the songs I sang, solo and with various singing partners, but I do know I was challenged to sing “Sorry Miss Jackson,” “Like a G6,” and “Drop it Like it’s Hot,” so I channeled my inner OG from west-side Weldona, and I killed it. Hahaha! It was so much fun, you guys! I have found a new hobby.

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mocoto

The adventure continued yesterday by trying a traditional “poor-man’s food.” Made from cow’s feet, beans and vegetables, mocoto has a flavorful base. A little sour and a little bitter, but good. However, translucent tendons were enough to turn my stomach away from being able to eat much more than a few spoonsful of the thick soup, and I don’t think I’ll be trying it again. Thankfully, there was plenty of other really good food at this small restaurant named after the soup: my new favorite, escondidinho. Filled with carne and queijo (beef and cheese) and some onions and peppers, it reminded me of shepherd’s pie.img_2672 Baiao-de-Dois was another star: rice and beans with “curdled cheese, sausage, bacon, and jerked beef.” Their farofa was the best I’ve had since I got here, and that bowl of white stuff next to my beer, that’s a bowl of cheese spread that made me very happy. We also had some pork that rocked. Amazing food here, and each time I try something new I think of, and miss my Dad. He’s going to love all of this great food, maybe even the mocoto, and I hope to share all of it with him. (How’s that passport coming along, Dad?)
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The rest of the night continued to feed my soul: watching a lovely performance by the singer Cèu, witnessing a vibrant Samba practice, riding on the back of a motorcycle, shooting

pool… it was the perfect night and the perfect way to “end” the first week of my truly-intentional-living. Let the journey continue….

 

About Being Honest with Myself

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cropped-119H.jpgI moved here to gain perspective, but I honestly didn’t think I was going to gain so much so fast, and I certainly didn’t think that the perspective I would first gain would be about myself. It seems sort of obvious now, especially given that my big move fell within the same year as my divorce. Hindsight is a funny thing. No matter how much we know, or think we know, we always look back and see things differently. And no matter what we expect to happen in life, it’s rarely even the case that things do happen that way. I can hear my sister now, calling me cryptic, so let me get to what I’ve learned so far in my 45 days in Brazil.

 

young-blonde-walking-towards-union-square-in-san-francisco-picjumbo-comI’ve learned that I’m not very good at being cool. Like, with men. I’ve learned that I’m a little emotionally and communicatively behind when it comes to adult relationships. Now, I’m not in a relationship, but I did meet someone special several months before my move. I felt sad but mature when we agreed to not get too involved or attempt some long distance thing, knowing that many miles and a lot of time was going to come between us. Yet, this man touched my heart in a way it’s never been touched, and although I said I could, I wasn’t able to be the cool, laid back woman who just let things go on as life directed.

 

I’ve learned that I’m crippled and stifled in my skills at being laid-back. I was in too tense environments and around too many bad relationships, including my own, for too much of my life to just be chill naturally. But I want to be able to chill out more, and my class of 9th graders I think are helping me do this! I’m really glad that I’ve become aware of my “uncoolness” so I can learn how to chill out before I ever think about settling down (again).

 

So, for example, like NOT email this person I’m giving space to to tell him how much I miss him, then say “I really am living here in the present moment, I just wanted you to know I’m thinking about you” Nope, I’m not going to do that…..again. :-/ I wanted to be able to just be here and not think about him. I wanted that to be true, but I was also sad and lonely and longing for something he got me to believe in again, and I felt more comfortable in that non-reality than I did in my present one.

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I SOOOOO clearly wasn’t living in my present. I WAS learning a new city, and a new job, and meeting new people, and focusing on my health, but I wasn’t even close to being present. Even though I wanted to come on this adventure–Hell, it’s one of the only (big) decisions I’ve truly made on my own in my entire adult life–I wasn’t fully ready for it. Then again, are we ever really ready for anything?

 

So, I wanted to BE here, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared. And it isn’t even until now that I can look back on it and go, OH, I was scared. I was in culture shock. I was having a harder time that I let myself admit. So, I did what I always do when times get hard: I fled. I couldn’t flee from my physical environment, so I fled emotionally. I fled from the present moment, my here-and-now mentality.

 

I think that usually when people emotionally flee they fall back into the warmth of a past moment, a beautiful memory, but I fled to a future longing, to an amazingly peaceful future I dream of having with someone. I burrowed myself into the still-smoldering golden ember of my heart that this someone lit on fire. I absconded into the future of my mind, a place I hope to be one day with someone special, to avoid the challenges of the here and now. But now that I’ve taken the time to think about it, and have let the sadness settle, I know that I was being a little (a lot?!) uncool, and that the timing isn’t right, and that I just need to focus on here and now.

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I’ve learned that I need to focus on me and become the best version of myself if I ever want that amazingly peaceful future I dream of to become a reality, and I know that actions speak louder than words, so…..I’m off to work on me. From this day forward I commit to being the best me I can be. I commit to being the best teacher I’ve ever been, creating the most honest artwork and writing I’ve ever created, and loving myself more than I have ever loved anyone. I am going to work day in and day out to become the coolest woman I can be. And in doing so I hope to continue growing my perspective of our world through this amazing place I get to call home for a couple of years.

About Getting Around

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I am grateful to be living somewhere that allows me to walk places for the first time in my life. From my home to restaurants, markets, the mall, and the park, I can get around by foot.

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Growing up in the country, then living in Denver suburbs, meant a lot of time in a car on straight, flat roads. Even when I did live in Denver, not owning a car wasn’t practical. I’ve never had the pleasure of not needing my own vehicle until now. It feels liberating not to have to worry about navigating this metropolis, finding parking, or paying for fuel and insurance. However, I do still have to rely on motor transportation to get to and from work, and getting around in vehicles in a vast and hilly city is much different than what I’m used to; I’ve unfortunately discovered that I get motion sickness. And the customs of the road certainly don’t help.
Brazil stop sign

You know the joke about “stop signs with white around them are just suggestions?” Well, it seems to really be true here. I’ve never seen so many people ignore stop signs. And lines on the streets, generally used to create distinct lanes in which cars drive, are all but ignored as cars and motorcycles cut through traffic on their own agenda. Roundabouts here are one of the scariest things I’ve encountered. Since a cement median is not plunked down in the middle of each one, many vehicles just cut right through the middle, right over the raised squares that mark the pavement in place of paint–regardless of oncoming traffic.

Riding along to and from work on the bus makes me tense and ill. I am still deciding on the best way to save my sanity–watch like a hawk out the window so I am aware of the inevitable moment we crash into another vehicle, or to close my eyes and remain oblivious to all possible collisions. Either way, I’ve had to tell myself: “No point stressing. If this is way you are destined to die, there’s nothing you can do about it!” All kidding aside–getting around a big city like this might just be the thing that drives me out, despite all the aspects I love.

 

About Teaching Internationally: The First Days

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I have to preface this post with two important details: 1) I feel some guilt for living selfishly/for leaving a community of amazing teachers and students (not to mention my family) to pursue my own dreams in teaching; writing about it now feels boastful: I don’t want to rub anyone’s face in my new life….but I also know that you’re curious, and I hope to maybe inspire some of you to embark on a journey like this of your own!… 2) I have only been at my job for eight days–five of which were spent with staff, so only three with students; I know that every school and every job come with problems and challenges–and I promise to report on those as they accumulate.

Many of my students here don’t speak English as their first language, just like in the U.S. Many of my students here struggle with reading and writing skills, just like in the U.S. Many of them love sports more than school, wish vacation wasn’t over yet, haven’t found the-book-that-made-them-fall-in-love-with-reading (yet!), and need work on their vocabulary; they have busy parents, unmet needs, and bad habits, just like my beloved students in the U.S. The school has more of some things than it needs and not enough of other things, just like schools in the U.S.

Books awaiting their place on the library shelves.

Unlike the schools where I’ve taught in the U.S., this school does not have overcrowded classrooms, ancient textbooks or worn out materials. It does not have delapitating buildings, graffiti on the bathroom stalls, trash shoved into the heat registers, or bolts on the windows to keep students in and fresh air out.

Yet to be determined: if it has the same heart. (Love and miss you, Bulldogs!)

paper-1559010__180We also don’t have our own rooms here (in the high school) so that’s something I need to get used to. The internet is just about as reliable as I am used to….or maybe a little less so. I don’t have to spend my own money on classroom supplies: I can walk into a well-managed supply closet and ask the assistant to get me what I need and give them my number to document what I took. I don’t get to make my own copies: requests must be submitted–in Portuguese–well in advance. 

The school’s leaders brought in a mindfulness instructor to lead the staff in meditation the first week of PD. Yes, they have the money to spend on our emotional well-being, though sitting quietly for an hour trying to clear our minds just days before students arrived may have been counter-productive. They feed us extraordinarily well. I’m talking better-than-Golden Corral, all-you-can-eat buffet for lunch every day. A freakin’ sushi buffet awaited as at the Happy Hour (on school grounds) after our first Friday PD.

 

Veteran teachers here warn us newbies of the “Freshman 15,” and I’m afraid they’re talking kilos (though no one will confirm this)! They serve one amazing dessert every day, and it’s highly recommended to try them all for the first semester, then choose your top-5 and only eat those if you want to maintain a shape other than a marshmallow. (I’ve started taking the stairs up to my 10th floor apartment to counterbalance all the eating.)

 

Of course, it’s not all glitz and glam….oh, was that already obvious? Haha…. I had sparkling illusions of living in the same apartment complex with all my expatriate colleagues where we would drop by one another’s units like dorms in college; some of us live roughly in the same neighborhood. The bus we all ride to school in together is broken into cliques just like the schoolbus of my childhood, and often nearly empty on the way home: not quite the fraternizing community I anticipated. The worst part about the bus is that the driver allegedly smokes cigarettes on it all day, then covers up the smell with an Olympic-size swimming pool’s worth of air freshener before we get on it, which makes many of us victim to daily headaches. Cruising over the hills of Sao Paulo on a bus with a headache is not my idea of a good time, but this is honestly the worst part of my day, so I’m dealing. 🙂

Each time I finish going through a stack of assignments I feel like I’m back at Westy High where apple-256261__180only half of my students turned their work in regularly–then I realize that all of my students did turn their work in and that I only have 17 students in that class, and, yes, I am done grading the assignment already. So I breathe, and am thankful. I know that I’m going to have a lot of work cut out for me: I have four preps, two of which are brand-new, and one of which is an IB (International Baccalaureate) course. I also have a new language to learn before I feel comfortable on the streets here. But I also know that I have landed myself a pretty sweet gig for a couple of years, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it!

Tchau for now, friends!

 

About Living with Intention

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Girl, Special, Bokeh, Back, Hands, Blond, Yoga, SportsSTART HERE IF YOU WANT TO HEAR MORE ABOUT MY BACKGROUND AND WHAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE TODAY: (Skip down if you just want to hear about what’s going on in my travels)

Over the years I have practiced yoga on and off. It started in college, mainly because I thought the instructor was really cute–though I was never “crunchy” enough to catch his attention–but I did learn that I enjoyed the time on the mat, as it was so very relaxing–so much so that I would sometimes fall asleep during savasana. Relaxing exercise was brand new to me, but clearly something I needed. I grew up in a rather stressful household, and my first year in college taught me a lot about what I needed and enjoyed rather than what I had been conditioned to think I needed. (I LOVE my family, and I have a ton to be thankful for regarding my upbringing, but with seven of us in one house, there was often chaotic fighting….over the remote, the computer, the last chicken wing, and a plethora of other things.) Exercise had always been a part of my life, but in more aggressive forms: volleyball or basketball, wrestling over aforementioned remote controls, or maybe a bike ride or a run, never something calm and soothing like yoga. And I quickly learned how much I needed something relaxing like that, just like I learned in college that I didn’t need the TV on to concentrate on my studies.

I’m already getting off subject…carrying on as I tend to. Anyways, what brought me to write today was a yoga video. https://youtu.be/oBu-pQG6sTY if you’re interested. Although I am not a beginner, I am trying to build a new habit, and I am WAY out of practice, so this seemed like a good way to get my body back into the flow of yoga. And what stood out to me during this short workout–other than how weak my core muscles are—was the instructor’s word, “Intention.” This word also came up recently when I walked a labyrinth in Denver about a week before my move to Sao Paulo; both exercises ask that their participants set an intention for their time spent completing the activity. Before walking the labyrinth, you were to set an intention for your meditation, and the same is true with yoga practice. My argument is that we adopt this into our daily lives–into each action of our day. To set an intention for our life. Each day. Every morning. My intention is to have a peaceful day, to listen to one new song, to say hello to a stranger, to smile when I notice I am becoming frustrated—whatever it is, big or small, I believe calling attention to our desired outcomes could do us all some good. It raised your awareness and causes you to act intentionally.

My intention for doing yoga today was simply to feel better, because after a nauseating bus ride home, and eating SOOOOO many calories at my new job today (more on that later!) I knew that I needed to be deliberate when I got home (to my first EVER solo-living quarters in my nearly 30 years of life) to do something to relax. Just to feel better. To breathe deeply, to slow down, and to feel better. I used to smoke pot and put on TV at the end of a long day, or if I had a headache, or when I came home to my toxic ex. But that’s over now, and my intention is to create new habits for myself. My main intention for leaving the country was to push myself to become a better and more complete version of myself, and to leave behind the version of myself I created in order to survive. Survive what, you might ask?…..cropped-119H.jpg

I was in a really unhealthy place for a looooong time. Unhealthy emotionally, and unhealthy physically. I lost myself in a bad relationship for way too many years. Maybe people didn’t know it was bad because I did a good job hiding it (at least I think I did–some people could tell how bad it was even before I knew). I lost my voice, I lost way too much weight, I lost some friends (the best ones are still around–thank Goodness!), I lost a lot of connetions to my family, and I lost faith–in the World and in myself. I lost the ability to trust myself. I nearly lost my love for teaching because the person I was with worked so hard to make me hate my job, my number one passion. Just thinking about how low I was by being in that relationship makes me lose composure as I write this……but I am so thankful that I didn’t lose all my strength, that I hadn’t lost ALL my self-trust and self-worth, that I was able to finally see it for what it was and get myself out of an extremely unhealthy and toxic environment. For any of you out there who have given up hope and feel stuck in a bad place, please know that you can get out of it and get back on your feet. It won’t always be easy, but leaving bad relationships (romantic or platonic–toxic is toxic) is necessary for you to feel good again. (And you can’t change people unless they want to change.) I’m not saying it will be easy…..I mean, just that 30 minute yoga routine was not easy, but I did it because it fulfilled my intention. And I left a marriage because I realized my true intention for life: to be happy. The hard stuff is what makes us better. No pain, no gain.

And although my transition into my new life in Brazil has been nearly pain free (not the saying goodbye part—that was hard and painful as hell), it is hard. It is hard to adjust to a new life, and I’m going to have many hard parts of this journey to discuss later, but, if you are still with me, the following is going to be about my AMAZING new school where I will have the pleasure of teaching (and eating) for the next two years. Summer Break is officially over!

 

Chapel School

Chapel School

START HERE IF YOU JUST WANT TO READ ABOUT MY NEW LIFE IN SAO PAULOJ So, today I got to explore Chapel School. It is a beautiful campus filled with life. The people I will be working with are kind and compassionate and intentional about the culture they create (as was my last school, which was an amazing place to work for the last five years and difficult to leave). The space is truly inspiring and peaceful. It is a K-12 school, which is the kind of school I grew up in, with around 800 students from around the world, which is nothing like the school I grew up in. It is surrounded by a tropical/jungle-like environment. I have heard that monkeys will run across the window-sills outside, just like squirrels would in Brighton—and I CAN’T WAIT to experience that!! Tomorrow I will explore the grounds some more, but today was more about touring the buildings, and eating. Really, I ate six times today: we were served coffee four times throughout the day, each time accompanied by a variety of baked goods like pão de queijo, powdered donut holes filled with chocolate, some other tasty pastry, and lots of fresh fruit (strawberries, passion fruit, watermelon, honeydew) then later by some mini-chicken pot pie-like-bites- of-heaven. Lunch was (and will continue to be) a buffet of so much deliciousness…salad, roasted and seasoned veggies, a carrot-au gratin that just melted in my mouth, and steak…always steak here. Honestly, with just about every meal—AT LEAST once a day, I have had some tasty steak, sometimes picanha and sometimes other cuts, but always so good. Oh, and there was some tasty caramel cake for dessert at lunch also. I am going to have to work really hard not to put on too much excess weight while I’m here, because everything is SOOOOOO tasty.

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Ok, back to the school…..the buildings are beautiful and really well-maintained. There are two libraries (elementary and high school), two gyms, a fabulous computer lab, a chapel, an auditorium, and lovely classrooms with verandas in the elementary wings. I’m sure I’m forgetting some other important details about the beautiful building, but one thing I have to mention (but failed to get pictures of) is the vast amount of art decorating the hallways. Some student work, and much professional work bedecks the hallways and office spaces, as Chapel hosts a biannual art show and clearly has a focus on fine arts as part of their well-rounded education.

 

Something that I really enjoyed about today’s Professional Development was all of the “Brain Breaks” the admin team worked into the lessons/discussions. I learned that a person’s age multiplied by three is the average amount of time a person is able to sit and focus on something. I learned that I am able to throw a paper ball over my head and catch it behind my back about three times out of ten. I re-learned (because I have experienced this stuff before) that little breaks like this are majorly important and effective ways to re-energize a group of people, and can be used intentionally to create focus and culture in a group of people. Despite the slight dizziness I still feel from the bus-ride home, which I am going to have to learn how to deal with since it will be my mode of transportation to and from work every day, I feel completely motivated, inspired, and energized to go into this year and make a positive impact on my students.IMG_1880

My intention here at Chapel is to continue building positive relationships as a role-model for teenagers, to continue inspiring a love for writing and reading, and to grow as much as I can as an educator. And I know I’m going to need my strength for that, emotionally and physically, so I’m going to keep doing yoga, and I hope you’ll join me, if not on the mat, then in setting an intention for yourself.

 

Sao Paulo

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IMG_1797Sao Paulo is a fascinating city. I am amazed at how comfortable I feel here already. Not being able to speak Portuguese yet makes things a little tricky, but I am lucky to be here with many expats who are willing to navigate the city and order food for me as we get acquainted with our new home. Speaking of food, they really do speak my language here: meat. So much meat. My first meal here consisted of two different cuts of steak, a pork chop, a piece of sausage, and some chicken, shared between the table, and we helped ourselves to a cold salad bar. I was so full from that meal that all I had was a small sandwich I made from the contents of my well-stocked fridge and pantry at my apartment in Moema.

An apple and granola bar kept me satiated the next morning while we stopped by the doctor’s office for the required physical exam for work. Then, omelets and sandwiches from a local bakery, paired with fresh juice, hit the spot. IMG_1753

 

Last night, I had my first caipirinha–delicious and strong!–feiojada–a pureed bean soup served with parsley and bacon– and picanha do juarez fatiada, which is a raw steak seasoned with salt and garlic–thinly sliced–which you cook at your table on a hot griddle….

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