Category: writing

reflection, resolution, writing

One Word 2021

Tamara

Wow.

What a crazy year.

Each time I sit down to reflect on this past year, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think back to that first day in January when the shining brilliance of opportunity glimmered like diamonds on a sandy beach. The future was beautiful. Pristine. Limitless.

Never in a million years did I, nor anyone else for that matter, see the train wreck of COVID-19 barreling down the tracks when 2020 began.

My calendar was filled with speaking engagements to share my passion for kindness with others. My flights were booked to Miami Beach, FL, Los Angeles, CA, and San Diego, CA and rentals reserved for Charlottesville, VA and Chestertown, MD. I had just finished keynoting as the Spotlight Speaker for the Virginia Society for Technology in Education (VSTE) Conference in Roanoke and was excited to see all the ways my One Word 2020 – RADIATE – would shine in the year to come.

I was blessed to travel to the Future of Education Technology Conference (FETC) in Miami as part of my R.E.B. Award for Teaching Excellence and connect with many of my Twitter friends as we shared our ideas and inspirations for educational technology. What a surprise to sit beside another educator and realize we had worked at the same school nearly 20 years ago in Memphis, TN! Such a small world indeed!

Emily Warne (now Emily Russell) and I reconnect at FETC! She taught fifth grade when I was a third grade teacher at Southwind Elementary in Memphis, TN.
It was such fun to join in with other authors at FETC!
I loved being able to connect with my Twitter PLN in person!

I keynoted the Women Education Leaders in Virginia (WELV) Conference and met a multitude of inspirational women who embody the word “radiate” each and every day, serving their districts as superintendents, district leaders, administrators, and teachers. I spoke at several local events and book clubs in my community as well.

Presenting my Keynote for WELV attendees
WELV Conference 2020
Photo courtesy of WELV

Then on March 13, 2020, everything came crashing down with one word heard around the globe:

Pandemic.

Additional words rose to the surface as the days and weeks continued. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion. Frustration. Anger.

Quarantine.

Mitigate.

Chaos.

Grief.

It felt like everything turned upside down. Restaurants closed. Flights cancelled. Masks mandated. Curfews imposed.

George Floyd. Breonna Taylor. Ahmaud Arbery.

Say their names.

My local community became the battleground of conflicting views and volatile actions. City streets I previously walked, holding hands with my children, were now marked with vulgar epitaphs demanding restitution and change.

Storefronts were damaged. Merchandise stolen. Buildings burned. Monuments removed.

The roar of a nation filled with angry unrest reverberated through the hills of my hometown. The paradox of change was everywhere, a swirl of discontent that ripped even the closest of relationships, while everyone hunkered down trying to find a “new normal” in a culture that was anything but new.

Schools closed, then reopened with a completely different structure and syntax. New schools. Old schools. Renamed schools. The work came crashing in so fast, from so many directions, I felt like I was drowning on a daily basis while my feet were buried deep in the sand on the shoreline.

Overwhelmed.

My social media feeds overflowed with heated debates and virtual daggers. It didn’t matter what your views were on any particular topic, there was always someone online ready to twist your words into knots that were never meant to be tied.

Feeling optimistic? Toxic positivity.

Want to change the world for good? Weaponizing kindness.

Trying to converse with others about injustices? Racist.

Did I mention that it was also the year of a presidential election? Don’t even get me started on that one.

2020 was a year of excruciating loss. Loss of loved ones. Loss of freedom. Loss of traditions.

Stability.

Security.

Sustainability.

Multiple losses counted by many.

Can you mourn the loss of hugs?

I do.

When I think back to the word I chose for 2020 – RADIATE – my immediate reaction is to shake my head and add it to the list of losses. How does one “radiate” in a year bound by the weight of such atrocities?

2020 was a really tough year to shine.

But then, when I look back through my writing, I’m surprised to see the stories I captured throughout this tumultuous time. My writing was consistent each week, even if only preserved in drafts. I processed the highs and lows, sharing my vulnerability with the world through words and images. I tackled tough conversations with my children and those around me, forcing me to reflect on my upbringing and beliefs.

I wrote about kindness given and kindness received. I showcased stories about my family and how I met my neighbors for the first time through a random act of kindness at a turquoise table in their yard. I even captured the complexities of having shingles AND a kidney stone at the start of this school year (because nothing says “radiate” like the horror of excruciating pain, right?)

It’s been one heck of a crazy year, my friends.

But despite all the challenges, there were moments of joy. I saw dear friends get married. Babies were born. Celebrations continued, even if on a smaller scale.

I spent more time with my immediate family since everyone remained at home. I discovered the joys of wearing exercise pants to (virtual) meetings and daily walks with my children. I realized you could visit a tropical island right in your own backyard. I tackled Class 5 rapids with my family of five and hiked 2360 feet to gaze at the valley below.

I loosened my grasp on the glorification of busy and enjoyed the perks of cancelled events. I shifted my mindset to focus on gains instead of loss.

I was able to keynote a few events and connected with several districts virtually through faculty meetings, coffee hours, and school-wide presentations. I was blessed to record a few podcasts, too, which provided a safe place to share my passions with others.

I expanded my professional learning network (PLN) and reconnected with several long-lost friends. I rediscovered my desire to be a part of the narrative in the story that I write to the world. (Yes, we can thank hours of watching Hamilton on Disney + for that insight!)

As we swap out calendars from one year to the next, I’m a little cautious about setting lofty goals to achieve. Perhaps I’ll start again with just one word for the new year:

Appreciate.

I want to carve out time to appreciate the little moments as they arise. I want to reflect on my past experiences to weave them through the tapestry of tomorrow. I want to find simple joys in a sunset, to hold the laughter of a well-timed joke for a few seconds more. I want to capture sweet moments in stories that will encourage others to do the same.

I want to listen longer. Love deeper. Learn with passion and purpose.

No matter what the seasons of change may bring, I want to live intentionally with gratitude. There are no guarantees for what the future may hold, so my guiding vision is to simply appreciate whatever comes my way.

As always, I appreciate you, my faithful readers, who continue to support my reflections, dreams, and aspirations. If you have a One Word for 2021, I would love for you to share it in the comments section below! Let’s embrace the new year with all it has to offer!

One Word Goals

2021 – Appreciate

2020 – Radiate

2019 – Uplift

2018 – Inspire

2017 – Resilience

2016 – Joy

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education, ITRT, reflection, writing

In the Eye of the Hurricane

Tamara

As far back as I can remember, I have been transfixed by severe weather, specifically thunderstorms and hurricanes. My childhood home included a sunroom, where three sides of transparent glass encased a room filled with floral patterned furniture and a large ceiling fan. Many afternoons were spent in that space, a juxtaposition of calm and serenity as thunder boomed and lightning lit the sky beyond the sunroom walls.

My first trip to Disney World as a teenager ended early due to Hurricane Elena‘s arrival in Orlando, Florida. Years later, I would find myself newly married, living almost 1,000 miles away from friends and family, forced to evacuate my two-bedroom apartment along the Gulf Coast of Florida as Hurricane Alberto (downgraded to Tropical Storm Alberto right before landfall) made its way onshore. The next year, another mandatory evacuation forced me all the way to Georgia, seeking shelter hundreds of miles from our Air Force base housing, as Hurricane Opal, a category 4 storm, crushed the landscape of our coastal town.

Ten years later, my first child would share the name of one of the most catastrophic hurricanes to hit the United States. I recently discovered a home video where I had recorded a Weather Channel broadcast of Hurricane Katrina approaching New Orleans, LA and I still have the newspaper that declared New Orleans spared from severe damage the morning after, just hours before the levees broke and flooded the city.

Daily News-Record newspaper, August 30, 2005

Those closest to me know that I still have “Take a selfie with Jim Cantore” on my bucket list. It’s also no surprise that I was drawn to the story of Jet Stream Jax, an eight-year-old storm chaser from Houston, TX who raised funds to rebuild playgrounds following Hurricane Harvey (and spotlighted in Chapter 3 of my book, A Passion for Kindness.)

I am no stranger to the devastation a hurricane can bring. I have sifted through muck and mire to help others find something, anything, of value left behind. I have watched, helpless, as all my belongings were shoveled out of a storage unit along the New River during my college days, the result of flooded riverbanks from a severe storm. I even attended my own baby shower in 95 degree heat with limited water when Hurricane Isabel left my hometown without electricity for more than a week.

Richmond Times-Dispatch newspaper, September 2003
Opening presents and playing Bingo with no power.
Notice the newspaper headline near my chair.
A page from my scrapbook, documenting the hurricane-impacted festivities.
My sweet Aunt Edith, determined to keep the punch cold no matter what!

My Grandma Payne used to joke that I brought rainy days wherever I went. Our yearly family picnics in the mountains are preserved with snapshots of windshield wipers, rain-soaked views of mountains, and a kaleidoscope of umbrellas covering soggy fried chicken and biscuits. Even the Virginia State Fair, which includes my birthday week, gets rained out year after year. My first week living in Las Vegas resulted in more than four inches of rain – a record for the desert that time of year.

And yet, I find my greatest peace in the midst of the storm.

There is a line from the musical, Hamilton, that makes my heart skip a beat each time I hear it. “In the eye of the hurricane, there is quiet… for just a moment… a yellow sky.” If you’ve ever seen the play or the movie on Disney+, you might remember this pivotal scene as Alexander Hamilton is crushed by his own demise, the storm of his personal choices and circumstance swirling around him when suddenly everything stops.

Time freezes.

Movements halt.

But the ground is not still. It continues to circle around, even as everything is paused for the moment. People and objects begin to slowly swirl in their silence as the audience is catapulted right inside the middle of the storm.

This is where my life is right now.

I am standing in the eye of the hurricane.

The past eight weeks have been nothing short of a hurricane in my world. My work as a technology integrator and instructional coach has swept me away with rain bands of responsibilities, flooded by requests for support and success.

I have tried to seek shelter from the storm, but right when I reach the line of safety, another gust of wind knocks me off my feet, unbalanced, as I am pulled back into the chaos. I am sacrificing family time for timelines of others, a tactic of survival, not sustainability.

It’s also birthday season in my world, with all three of my children, myself, and several nieces, nephews, and extended family celebrating birthdays each week from the end of August to the end of October (with a few more scattered in November.) This is always a busy time, as my priority for celebrating loved ones takes center stage. This year, however, the stage is an eye wall of unbalanced metrics, with the eye of the hurricane shrinking smaller in the midst.

But I made it to the middle.

I am standing in the eye.

There is silence.

Stability.

Security.

Even if only for a moment.

I take a breath.

I stop and stand in awe of the world around me.

I look to the sky for the sliver of sunlight that streams through the clouds.

I am reminded of my purpose.

My passion.

My perspective.

My value.

And as the winds start to shift with the weight of elections, COVID concerns, holiday seasons, and racial divides, I am reminded that no storm lasts forever.

I can seek shelter if needed.

I can battle the winds that remain.

I can survive the rising water with my head held high.

I can.

I can.

I can.

And you can, too.

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kindness, reflection, writing

One Word 2020

Tamara

Where do you find your inspiration?

What guides you in your vision for the upcoming year?

How do you keep your focus on your goals from one month to the next?

For many years, I made a list of resolutions on the first day of the new year. I wanted to keep my house clean. Spend more time with family. Write more. Read more. Exercise more. I would attack my list with herculean strength, pushing myself to exhaustion trying to do it all, only to fall into the vast pit of failure when my goals were never attained.

In 2016, I called it quits. I’d had enough. I was barely treading water as my mother-in-law battled Stage 4 colon cancer and my mom battled Stage 4 lung cancer. Resolutions for a year meant nothing when your daily vision was shrouded in darkness.

That was the year I chose one word as a focus instead of a “must-do” list of limitations. I wrote my word on a post-it note and reflected on it throughout the year. It became a ray of light that guided my way.

2016 was the year I chose joy.

Or, perhaps, joy chose me.

See, 2016 was not a year of joy by most accounts. I lost my mother-in-law in March and several other family members throughout the year. It was the year my mother had to start experimental trials to battle a disease that had no mercy and would ultimately claim her life the following year. But joy was my focus and each day I woke up determined to find something joyful in the world around me.

I started to re-evaluate the relationships in my life and made the choice to step away from toxic people whose negativity pulled me down. I sought out positive people and refocused my social media accounts to connect with those who brought me joy through words and actions. I continued my kindness journey by sharing joy with others when I could.

It worked.

I ended 2016 realizing our mindsets are a powerful force in our satisfaction and stability in an uncertain world. While we can’t always change the circumstances we encounter, we most certainly can choose how we react to them.

In 2017, I chose resilience as my one word, anticipating the trials and tribulations that would surely come my way. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy as I held my mother’s hand as she took her last breath and I navigated major life transitions with my oldest child leaving home to attend college. Each time I felt knocked down by life, my one word served as a reminder to pick myself back up and keep going.

Then the magic of 2018 began with the word inspire. I submitted my very first book proposal to Dave Burgess Consulting, Inc. and 48 hours later I was signing a contract that would transform my passion of being a writer into my life’s dream of becoming a published author. My year was spent writing, revising, and editing which resulted in stretching myself in ways I never knew possible. My passion for kindness poured from my soul as I wrote in the morning. I wrote after the kids were in bed. I wrote on vacations, during road trips, and on flights across the country. My writing consumed my personal time, but I reminded myself that the sacrifice was necessary (and worth it!) for the opportunity to inspire others.

It was during that time that I received the 2018 R.E.B. Award for Teaching Excellence, which fully funded a professional learning experience to meet Kindness Cultivators around the world and learn more about their passions and programs. I was also named the 2019 Teacher of the Year for Mechanicsville Elementary which was an honor I held dear to my heart having served students and staff there for more than a decade.

Realizing 2019 would create unique opportunities to travel and speak to others about my passion for kindness, I chose the word uplift to be my focus this past year. This word guided me through my very first book release and all the incredible experiences that followed, which I detailed in my recent blog post, “Becoming an Author in 2019.”

Now it’s time to choose a new word to carry me through 2020. As I reflect on the past few years, and all the has happened in this life journey of mine, I keep thinking about my mom and her final days on earth. Oh, how she would have loved to see all that has happened! There’s a little pang in my heart every now and again, wishing she was here to experience the wonder and joy.

It’s in her memory that I choose my One Word for 2020: Radiate.

I wrote about this word in my book, sharing a personal story of one friend’s kindness for the woman who gave me life:

I also came across this quote recently which confirmed radiate as my focus word for the new year:

In 2020, I want to radiate warmth and love towards everyone I meet.

I want to radiate acceptance for who you are, as you are.

I want to radiate joy and peace with hope for the days ahead.

I want to radiate kindness with a brightness that permeates the darkness.

I also want to continue my kindness journey by completing 20 acts of kindness and I encourage you to do the same! Imagine if those around you committed to completing 20 acts of kindness this year – how much good we can put in the world!

I created a Google Slides template which you can use for yourself, your students, coworkers, family members, just about anybody! Simply click the link below and select “Use Template” in the top right corner. Then you can add your name to the title slide and edit the text boxes on each slide – one for each act of kindness you complete. You can add photos and images, too!

It would be amazing to see all the ways we can radiate kindness in 2020! If you would like to download the template – CLICK HERE! You can also share the link with others by copying this URL: http://bit.ly/radiate2020template. When completed, I would love for you to share your link here so we can radiate kindness to the world: http://bit.ly/20RAKS2020!

May 2020 bring the greatest joys you’ve yet to experience! Let’s get out there and make it an amazing year!

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education, kindness, REBkind, reflection, writing

Becoming an Author in 2019

Tamara

As I sit here at my writing desk reflecting on the past year, I am simply awestruck. I don’t even know if I can fully articulate the impact 2019 has had on my life.

It has been a transformational year.

In 2019, I became a published author. Just typing those words still brings the novelty and thrill of a child, hands clasped together in absolute glee, looking up towards the heavens shouting, “I DID IT!” It was a goal I had hidden on my heart for decades and, truth be told, if it wasn’t for the constant support of many friends and coworkers, I’m not sure I would have crossed the finish line to say those words.

I actually wrote a book about my passion for kindness.

OH. MY. GOODNESS. WOW!

“I’m a published author!”

I could end this post right there, as that bucket-list goal, life dream achievement was enough – more than enough – to celebrate a year well-lived. But what I didn’t know in February 2019, when my book showed up on Amazon lists and Barnes and Noble advertisements, is that it was just the beginning of an incredible adventure I am still learning how to navigate.

There’s no rule book on how to become an author or what to do once it happens. I just knew that I had a story to share with the world and I wanted to inspire and uplift others along the way. While my book details my kindness journey both inside the classroom and outside in the community, I also shared the stories of twelve Kindness Cultivators (one for each chapter) and dozens more scattered throughout the pages.

This wasn’t a book focused solely on me, it was a book about us.

I told myself if only one person was positively impacted by my book – just ONE – then to me, it was enough. It would be worth the hours of writing and sacrifice of time, energy, and sleep. It would be worth the paranoia of perfectionism and the irrational angst of anxiety that whispered in my ear as I worried about every little detail.

Just. One. Person.

It was enough.

The response to A Passion for Kindness: Making the World a Better Place to Lead, Love, and Learn has been overwhelming for this gal who comes from “the land of tomatoes.” I can still remember Maureen Ambrose holding my book at a playground before I even had the chance to get my own purchased copy. My father-in-law, affectionately known as “Grandpa Letter,” bought a copy for every person in his neighborhood book club before I even figured out which pen would work best for autographs. My forever friend, Lisa Zader, drove hours to help me unpack boxes of books, delighted to be the first to photograph my excitement.

Mike Mohammad posted a screenshot of himself ordering my book, then later posted a screenshot of the Kindle version on his iPad saying he couldn’t wait for the hard copy of the book to arrive, he wanted to read it right then. Even now, nearly a year later, my heart soars remembering the way Christine Bemis‘ Nana held my book in her hospital bed while recovering from a fall, her smile radiant as she listened to stories about prioritizing kindness. I was especially touched when I saw the watercolor artwork created by Amanda Fox‘s 10 year old daughter, Rowan, inspired by the cover of my book.

The posts flooded my social media feeds with your book screenshots and smiling faces. I took screenshots of your screenshots so I could always remember the ways you wrapped me with love to celebrate my accomplishment. Each day was like unwrapping a new gift under the tree, waiting to see what would connect with you as a reader, which stories would resonate most.

Local businesses and organizations welcomed me into their spaces for book signings and meet-and-greet events. Educators around the world contacted me to join them on their podcast shows or moderate their Twitter chats. I received invitations to create webinars and presentations. Dr. Gill, the superintendent of my school district, invited me to all four graduation ceremonies and mentioned my passion for kindness in his commencement speech with quotes from my book. I was even interviewed for our local CBS Channel 6 news station’s morning show and later chosen as one of their “Month of Giving” recipients at the end of the year.

Rob Cardwell from WTVR Channel 6 News surprised me at school as one of their “Month of Giving” recipients.

I visited Houston, Texas and Boston, Massachusetts then traveled out of the country to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada as part of my R.E.B. Award for Teaching Excellence, meeting dozens of kindness cultivators along the way. It was especially humbling to meet Barbara Gruener, Jet Stream Jax, Houston Kraft, Todd Nesloney, Wendy Hankins, Cathy O’Grady, and Annick Rauch during my travels. I was so inspired by those mentioned in my book that I turned one of my books into an autograph book so I could capture the signatures of those who made such a powerful impact on me!

Blessed by Barbara’s kindness to drive more than an hour to visit Todd Nesloney at his school!
Wendy Hankins signing her page in my book.
Barbara Gruener’s sweet autograph for my book.

Becoming a published author has been absolutely surreal!

What has resonated most about this entire journey of becoming an author in 2019 has been the ways in which my story has impacted yours. Every single day – without exception – I have received some form of contact from someone in the world: emails, text messages, private messages, voicemails, cards in the mail, even post-it notes on my desk and door.

You have shared in my joy. You have asked questions. You have poured out your hearts and taken time out of your day to describe your commitment to kindness. You have inspired me with your examples of ways that you make the world a better place to lead, love, and learn.

I have hugged parents who are completing kindness missions in memory of their children who have passed away. I have listened to students share the most wonderful things they have done for others and how “being kind makes a difference.” I have watched strangers come together for a common cause and enjoyed the viral sensations of kindness posted in our Passion for Kindness Facebook group.

When 2019 began, I was looking forward to the joys of becoming a published author. When I sit here now, as 2019 comes to a close, I realize I became something else.

I became a better person because of you.

You believed in me.

You encouraged me.

You picked me up when I got knocked down.

You hugged me when I became overwhelmed.

You shared my stories with others and embraced the knowledge that there’s plenty of room in the spotlight for all of us to stand.

All that I accomplished in 2019 was because of you.

You showed me the true meaning of having a passion for kindness.

Thank you for an amazing year!

Traditionally I share my accomplishments with links to blog posts and such, but this year I decided to create an infographic to summarize it all. A special thanks to Dave Burgess Consulting, Inc. for taking a chance on this first-time author. It’s been a year to remember!

Check back soon – my One Word 2020 post will be shared on New Year’s Day!

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kindness, writing

The Price of Service

Tamara

Each year his face surfaces in my mind, like a soft, gentle reminder of what could have been. He was a childhood friend sharing elementary classes and his silly grin is vivid now as if he was still sitting near me in class, whispering a joke he knew would cause someone to laugh at an inappropriate time.

I see reflections of him in the students I serve and I sometimes wonder if they, too, will choose a similar path.

A path of honor.

A path of distinction.

A path that may stop abruptly without explanation.

A little more than fifteen years ago, I welcomed my second child into this world, his birth a joyous celebration. The very next day, the life of my childhood friend ended, one of many casualties in a conflict fought on foreign soil.

There were no celebrations for his family.

When I returned home from the hospital, I wrote his parents a letter and filled it with memories of their son, as I sat in my living room holding my own son in the crook of my arm. The tears streamed down my face as I thanked them for their priceless gift to this world. As the wife of an Air Force veteran, I understood all too well the worries and fears of sending a loved one away to a land filled with hate, horror, and helplessness.

Their son made a difference in the lives of strangers.

Their son made a difference in the lives of those with whom he served.

Their son made a difference in me.

Today I remember my dear friend, J.R. Teal, and all the other fallen soldiers who have lost their lives protecting our country. Their price of sacrifice is greater than this Momma’s heart can bear to describe.

May we always remember those who serve bravely, taking risks to make this world filled with kindness, love, and peace. They are the heroes whose legacies live on forever.

Thank you J.R.

Thank you for being my friend.

education, family, mom, reflection, writing

For the Love of Reading

Tamara

“What kind of books do you like to read?”

I have to laugh when I hear someone ask this question, especially to children. Many will answer with a series or author name; a few will respond with a genre. Some will stare blankly with a shrug of their shoulders indicating disinterest in the question altogether. Even in elementary school, students have begun to label themselves by reading ability or interest. Have you ever heard one of these responses?

“I don’t like to read.”

“I’m not a good reader.”

“Reading is boring.”

My earliest memories of books revolve around my mom who was an avid reader. While we never had a formal bookshelf in our home, she would have stacks of books in her closet, under the coffee table, and in various bags in our spare bedroom. I can still see her now, curled up in a corner of the couch, covered in a blanket, hardback book opened with crisp, new pages waiting to be turned.

My mom’s passion for reading trickled down to me in small and meaningful ways. Unfortunately, my love for reading was a late discovery, as I was a product of the Red Bird, Blue Bird, Black Bird grouping of a decades-old educational system that judged my reading ability by lower-level comprehension questions and oral fluency peer comparison. According to my report card, I was an average reader. According to my passion, I was a skilled and reflective orator, retelling and correlating storylines to life lessons, emphasizing inspirational character traits with each story shared.

Since that time, I have easily read hundreds of books in a variety of genres that shift depending on my own life stages. No one requires me to take a test to prove my learning and I am freed from narrow constraints that dictate my reading selection.

I can read any book, at any time, without judgment or expectation.

I am a life-long reader.

From one of my first and favorite novels, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith, to the humorous and sometimes horrific insights of Iggie’s House and Blubber by Judy Blume, my early teen years found comfort in learning about people’s experiences: their highs and lows, successes and failures.

In high school, I discovered biblical inspirations, marking my favorite quotes with colorful highlighters that occasionally bled through the other page. Handwritten notes with personal references in the margins reminded me that I am wonderfully made and bound for greatness. I was drawn to personal narratives shared in Daily Guideposts, providing inspiration 365 days of the year. Many of those verses and stories still come to mind today when I face trials and tribulations of living in an imperfect world.

In college, I bought a kit to build my own two-leveled bookshelf. It was made of cheap particle board and a bit wobbly, but it was mine. I quickly filled it with Shel Silverstein poetry books like Where the Sidewalk Ends and A Light in the Attic and treasured young adult novels like Where the Red Fern Grows and Bridge to Terabithia. I vowed to never watch a movie until I had read the book first.

In my twenties, I found great escape in the twisted tales spun by Stephen King and Dean Koontz, developing empathy for characters like Christopher Snow in Fear Nothing. Then my interests took a complete turnaround when I transitioned to motherhood, with a focus on baby board books like Guess How Much I Love You capturing the unexplainable love I had for the newborn baby rocking asleep in my arms.

I read to my child.

For my child.

With my child.

As I had more children, I made sure each had a bookshelf in their bedroom. The first was built by my husband, a simple 2′ x 4′ storage space crafted from pine and custom-sized to fit baby books, which was passed along to each child as they arrived. When a child outgrew the baby bookshelf, another one would appear in their room, magically filled with early reader books, graphic novels, and other books I had found at yard sales or Goodwill.

While there may not have been money to purchase name-brand shoes or the newest game console, there was always money available for books. From Junie B. Jones lamenting her first grade woes to Jack and Annie sharing their treehouse adventures, I tried my best to pass along my mother’s love for reading to her grandchildren.

Years later, when that same mother who sparked my love for reading faced her greatest battle of Stage 4 lung cancer (at the same time my mother-in-law was battling Stage 4 colon cancer), I turned to books like Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant to guide me through my loss and grief. On the day after my mother’s death, I received a package on my doorstep: Driving Miss Norma, the book my mom had pre-ordered for me as a Christmas gift six months before.

Even after her death, my mom was encouraging me to keep reading.

I am now in a season of enriching my educational practice with books like Teach Like a Pirate, Blogging for Educators, Be Real, Make Learning Magical, Lead Like a Pirate, The Path to Serendipity, Lead with Culture, Professionally Driven and Social LEADia (and so many more – this paragraph could be a blog post in and of itself!) I am discovering the joys of reflective practice and learning from educators who stretch my thinking with their encouraging words.

I can also hear a new whisper on my heart:

“Write and share.”

In the journey from reader to writer, I see the interconnectedness of both, how words consumed and internalized are woven together into expressions and examples bursting forth to be shared. I have learned from writers before me how to scoop up fragments and phrases and mold them into visual experiences that unfold inside a reader’s mind.

To write well, you must be well read.

I am still perfecting my craft as a writer as I share blog posts like this, sparked by writing groups like #CompelledTribe who challenge me each month to keep writing, keep sharing, keep developing.

This time next year I will be an author myself with others holding my book to read. The thought is nearly incomprehensible. I am humbled to join the Dave Burgess Consulting, Inc. crew as an honorary pirate preparing for her maiden voyage. I can almost see in my mind’s eye my mom sitting on her sofa, wrapped in a blanket, reading my book A Passion for Kindness, her eyes brimming with tears of joy.

It’s a journey that will soon come full circle.

In celebration of #NationalBookMonth this October, I challenge you to share your experiences with books that have made an impact on your life. You may be surprised to discover that your words of reflection may inspire someone to add a new book to their collection! If you share a post, tag me, too – your words inspire me as well!

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family, kindness, reflection, writing

The Rocks

Tamara

Months ago my eight-year-old son found a Kindness rock hidden among the bushes at my school when we made a quick visit to play on the playground. “Look, Mommy!” he squealed, his voice filled with the magical wonder of innocence. “This rock is extra-special! We should keep it!” It was painted bright green with blue words across the top. The message contained three words I needed to hear right in that moment:

Seek the treasure.

I placed the rock in the console of my car so I could see it each day, a visual reminder that each and every day holds potential for moments to be treasured. I simply had to shift my perspective to see it materialize before me.

That weekend at church, our pastor gave a sermon about the power of a rock. “If David could slay a giant with one small object, what power do YOU have to overcome the giants in your life?” That question dove deep in my soul and shook me a bit as I tried to wrap my brain around the possibility that I, too, might be stronger than I ever imagined. As we left the service, we were given a large, black rock as a reminder that we could do great things. I placed the “David Rock” as I called it in the same compartment of my car console that contained my treasure rock from days before.

As winter turned to spring, and spring slid into summer, I battled some hefty giants. I was selected Teacher of the Year for my school, spent my Spring Break writing essay after essay, only to flounder in my district interview presentation with one technology glitch after another. I relived sorrow and heartache as the one year anniversary of my mother’s death approached then passed, the weight lasting longer than the date on the calendar page. A few weeks before the end of the school year I was informed that I would now be serving two schools after a decade of only serving one.

I gave my first out-of-district Keynote presentation in June, overcoming the constant battle of perfection and fear of failure. I then transitioned from a 10-month teacher contract to an 11-month technology contract requiring me to sacrifice many precious days of summer break with my children.

But perhaps the greatest challenge I faced during this time was pouring my heart onto the page as I wrote paragraph after paragraph, page after page, chapter after chapter, my manifesto about kindness and its impact on my life.

I am growing my wings from writer to author.

There were days I sat at my computer when the thoughts were jumbled in my mind like a 500-piece puzzle still wrapped in the box. There were other days when the words tumbled out like a waterfall, rushing so quickly I could barely contain the flow.

I cried out in frustration for the words that wouldn’t come; I went through a box of tissues for the words that eventually did.

For six straight months I wrote. And wrote. And wrote.

Edited.

Revised.

Wrote again.

I doubted my ability to share my story, then sat back in wonder when the puzzle pieces came together, the scrambled shades of blue finally blending together across the horizon. I sacrificed time, energy, and quite a bit of sleep, but what I gained in the process was so much more.

By writing my story, I discovered who I am meant to be.

I submitted the first draft of my book about kindness and now the wheels are in motion.

Early 2019.

It’s really going to happen! I am going to be an author and, perhaps, you will read my story. That is such an exciting, but overwhelming, reality to come! I am overjoyed; I am terrified. Short of childbirth, this is the most difficult thing I have ever done.

For now, I keep moving forward. Keep working towards the goal.

And each day I see the rocks in my console to remind me of my purpose, their shine and shimmer dulled by the sun, but still vibrant in their meaning.

Seek the treasure.

Overcome the giants.

Excellent advice indeed.

If you would like to be the first to know about updates of my book release, join our Passion for Kindness Facebook group or subscribe below. It’s going to be quite a journey for the next six months – I would love to share it with you!

reflection, writing

Forced Update

Tamara
It was inevitable.
I pushed “later” every time the pop-up appeared.
No. No. No.
Not now. 
 
Later. 
 
Remind me tomorrow.
 
I had broken the cardinal rule of tech savviness with more than a dozen tabs open in Google Chrome, frantically working towards a deadline when the inevitable happened.
I no longer had a choice to make. 
 
The screen went dark. A white apple appeared.
Forced update.
I stared back at the screen, the small white progress bar inching slowly to the right, my writing progress halted by the same technology that allowed it to exist.
I got up and walked a lap around my downstairs, then sat back down again.
Updating.
I refilled my coffee, knowing it would grow cold before I could finish even half of it.
Updating.
I went upstairs, put in my contacts, twisted my hair up and stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Work in progress.
I saw a few new freckles across the bridge of my nose as I peered closer in the mirror, then smiled as I remembered my childhood dream of having my freckles join together so I could finally be as tan as my friends.
Forty-five years worth of freckles. Still waiting on the tan.
I returned back to my writing desk to a screen that was nearly unchanged. Delayed updates equate to more time needed.
Time.
Summer time.
Family time.
My time.
Work.
This summer, my time is all mixed in a muddle. Nearly every second of every day is accounted for interspersed with planned activities to provide a sense of balance and reduction of guilt. I’m writing, which brings me immense joy, but working through tough topics that make my heart bleed on the page.
I am discovering I’m not as invincible as I thought.
As I look around my home, I see all the things that need my attention: the carpet needs to be vacuumed, the dishes washed, the laundry sorted, the toys picked up and put away. Then I look back at the dark screen on my laptop and ask myself aloud: “Is all this even worth it?”
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
It is worth it.
It is worth the time to tell this story. It is worth the heartache to share vulnerability. It is worth the schedule overhaul, the shift in responsibilities, the lack of sleep, lack of strength, lack of confidence to get these words to the world.
It. Is. Worth. It.
My writing journey is unlike anyone else’s and paradoxically just the same. I’m a small town girl with big city dreams and fears that rise higher than skyscrapers.
I am swimming in an ocean of change with no lifeguard on the shore. The ebb and flow of tidal waves that crush my soul and pull me under are the same waves that bring me back to the surface to catch my breath. I have to remind myself to swim with the current, not against it. I have to remember to breathe when I have the chance.
The light of my laptop is bright again, the cursor blinking for me to log in.
Update done.
 
Restart completed.
 
Back to writing again.
There are times in our lives when we need a forced update to renew and refresh. Today I chose to embrace that which I couldn’t control and find joy in the why.
I even took time to write a story about it, too.
Writing is joy.
Sharing is joy.
Today I am thankful for those moments in our lives that force us to pause and reflect.
Today I am thankful for you, taking time out of your life to read the thoughts in mine.

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education, writing

Your Story Matters

Tamara

Today was the first day I’ve been “back in the groove” following vacation and I was delighted to spend time with my dear friend, Courtney Jones (@PrincipalCEJ). We’ve known each other about a decade and in that time I’ve had the pleasure of watching her rise through the ranks of gifted education teacher, assistant principal, and now principal. She is a passionate educator, always willing to share her insights and motivates me in unexpected ways.

One of the first things she said as I sat down was, “How’s that book coming along?” I skirted the question with a laugh and told her she sounded just like my mom, always asking when I was going to share my stories between the pages of a hardback novel. Our conversation was free-flowing, one topic leading to the next. We talked about life-changing events like the passing of my mom and joyful moments focused on family and travel. Her eyes sparkled as she shared her experiences of attending the ISTE Conference in June.

It was during that conference that her virtual world of Twitter exploded as she had the opportunity to meet so many inspiring educators, including two of my PLN friends Jennifer Casa-Todd (@JCasaTodd) and Aaron Hogan (@aaron_hogan). It was heartwarming to hear the connection she made with Jennifer, sharing in a hug that was sent all the way from me in Virginia.

Courtney and I chatted about the impact Twitter has had on our professional learning, how the platform has provided an open door to connect with those for whom a connection may have never been made, and we shared a story or two about our “awestruck moments” of meeting our favorite authors in real life.

She told me how Aaron asked why she wasn’t blogging. His matter-of-fact approach in questioning Courtney resulted in a quick scroll through her Twitter page and commenting on what he saw. Listening to her retell the story had me laughing as she recounted all the excuses she gave him, none of which deterred him from asking, again, why she wasn’t blogging. When she finally admitted that she had started a blog for her school, documenting different events and activities, he looked her straight in the eyes and said these words that stopped her in her tracks:

“You need to tell YOUR story.”

Whoa! Wait… what? MY story? About my experiences? Who would want to read THAT?

The answer, my friend, is me.

I want to read your story. I want to know about your experiences. I want to soak up all the knowledge you have gained as an educator, a parent, a volunteer, a lacrosse coach, a surgical patient, a leader and a follower. You have life lessons that I need to hear!

Right now. 

Today.

See, your story matters. You took time out of your busy day to share your stories with me and now I am reflecting on your words, savoring the knowledge that seeps out as I relate your stories to my life. I walked away from our time together lifted up, inspired, challenged, and a bit humbled as I processed everything you shared.

We don’t live in the same town. I’m not sure when we will meet again. But I do know that your words inspire. Your experiences remind me that life is filled with highs and lows; it’s ok to be real, authentic, embracing the crazy, zany, exuberant people we are. It’s ok to fail, to feel the angst of frustration, to find joy in simple moments of the day. And if you start sharing your stories through written text, I can connect with you anywhere, anytime. I can share your story with others. I can refer to your experiences as I’m sharing my own stories and together we can learn and grow.

Your story matters and your story must be told! Jot those notes. Start that blog. Post that link. To quote the very words you spoke today: “You just never know the people you touch when you share your stories with the world.” Whether you are writing for #compelledtribe, #teacherswrite, or just #amwriting, your story can impact thousands with just a few clicks of a keyboard.

Thank you for rejuvenating me in ways I didn’t even know I needed. Now get to writing! You know Jennifer and Aaron will be messaging you soon asking, “Have you started that blog yet?” After all, to quote Dave Burgess (@burgessdave), “Only YOU can tell the story someone else needs to hear!”

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writing

Embracing Change

Tamara

Quote - Change

As many of you know, I have been sharing my thoughts as a blogger for almost five years now.

WOW! Five years? Surely that’s not correct.

Yep. Five years.

I began this journey in June of 2012, mainly to document the 40 random acts of kindness I wanted to complete for my upcoming 40th birthday. Of course, once I started to write, I couldn’t stop!

I’ve learned a lot about myself during this time. I’ve discovered my passion for kindness. I’ve met amazing people in the process and been blessed a thousand times over. I’ve been inspired by other writers who mentor me, encourage me, and push me to do more with my stories.

I have struggled as well.

I have been paralyzed by fear that I wasn’t good enough. I’ve been stretched so thin that writing took a backseat to life. I began to question, to doubt, to wonder if any of this even mattered.

It does.

I’ve learned that kindness takes shape in many forms. It can be an action that surprises a stranger. It can be a smile sent across the room. Kindness can be sharing of ideas or encouraging through empathy.

Kindness matters.

And now I’ve come to that place where I have to let go of the familiar and embrace the new.

I have decided to expand my sharing of kindness stories to include other stories from my life. I am a mom, an educator, a writer and friend. Now is the time to embrace all that I am and continue this passion for kindness in a new way.

This week I created a new website: www.tamaraletter.com. The time was right to branch out and take a risk – purchasing my own website domain and, in essence, starting over.

But I want to start over with YOU.

You matter.

You’ve read my posts and shared in my experiences. You’ve celebrated with glee and wept with sorrow. You have become a part of my story and I want that story to continue.

This isn’t goodbye forever, more like moving down the street!

I would love if you would visit www.tamaraletter.com and add it to your favorite sites. If you like email updates, there’s a place on the side and bottom of the new website where you can subscribe. You can also stay connected with me on Facebook and Twitter if that works best.

I will continue sharing my stories of random acts of kindness, so let’s stay connected so we can keep inspiring one another and making this world a better place!

You’ve already inspired me to embrace change and celebrate the new.

BeTheGood