Terrifying teacher.

I dread the day before a break at school.  The students' minds are not in the classroom.  Their focus is on making plans over the long week.  Their attention is on how much sleep they will be able to catch up on over the next few days.  What I have to say, how much knowledge I am attempting to provide to them is of very little importance in comparison to their social agendas.

However, in the course of this beautiful Wednesday, a past student paid me a visit.  He is currently a senior who I had in English 11 last year.  After a few minutes of small talk, the conversation took a turn.  He told me, "It's crazy to think about how terrified I was of you last year, and now, this year, I actually choose to come into your room just to talk to you."

Yes, he used the word "terrified" which made me laugh.

This conversation brought me to think about the way relationships develop, change and grow.  I appreciate not just the relationships I'm able to have with my students once they are no longer my students, but I like to think about this idea in terms of friends, loves and family as well.

I consider how much my relationship with my mom has changed.  She is now my friend, when she used to strictly be my parent.

The relationship I have with my sisters has become closer and closer over the years, despite the growing distance.

My relationship with Kyle has bloomed in many surprising ways as well.

These changes are welcome and I believe they are indicative of the growth of each individual involved.  The more we learn about one another, the more our relationships are going to be impacted.

Thank you, dear student, for your genuine observation.  I'm happy I no longer terrify you, but glad I did while you were a student in my classroom.

Blessings.

My mom used to tell me that one of the wonderful things about having children of your own is that you can choose how you raise them.  She told me that I would be able to change the things I didn't like about how she and my dad raised me.  She would, obviously, recite these words when I complained about a rule, stipulation or decision that either she or my dad made that I was not particularly fond of.

Many years ago, I would have argued that were MANY things I would change when raising my own kids, but as I consider it now, I've changed my mind.

I consider myself extremely lucky because of the love, compassion, support and discipline my parents showed me throughout my life.

The reason I came across these thoughts today is because I found a picture that I've been searching for since the wedding.  A picture that, in many ways, will forever serve as a reminder of how much my parents care about me.  A truth that I can only hope, one day, my children will realize about their own parents.

When I was baptized, my mom saved and froze flowers from my christening cake, so that one day, I would be able to add them to my wedding cake.

When filing through our wedding pictures, I found many beautiful pictures of our cake, but none of them were from an angle that highlighted the christening flowers.  I inquired about said photograph in an email to my photographer, who told me she didn't get one from that particular angle because the DJ's table would have been in the background, and let's be honest, that would be an eye-sore.  She was right, I knew, but I was still upset, mostly at myself for not making sure this was on the "must photograph" list.

I explored the web, looking through the pictures posted on Facebook, my venue's website, etc.

It wasn't until this week, in a somewhat random turn of events, that Championship Catering posted a picture of our wedding cake on their Facebook page, describing how they enjoy working with Indiana Memorial Union Catering, the company that did our cake.

The picture happened to be from the perfect angle.

Sometimes it is the smallest things in life that remind us just how blessed we are.

Oh, and mom, I wouldn't change a thing.  I love you.

Monday love.

Rarely do I find myself enjoying a Monday, but today was one of those days.

Yes, it was the beginning to another week, but the fact that this week is fall break does not hurt.  Knowing I have to survive fewer days of work helped make the day easier to endure.

Secondly, Kyle is done with football.  As much as I LOVE spending my Friday nights cheering him on, I am so excited to spend the afternoons together during the week.  Any more time I get to spend with my hubby is a treasure.

I am happy to say that the last reason today was such a good day was because of my students.  We had some meaningful discussions, which I'm sad to admit is a rarity.  However, today I saw a different side of my students.  They were capable of holding mature conversations about a wide range of topics concerning life, adolescence and love.

I love little moments that provide me with a sense of pride in my students.  It's days like today that I am reminded why I do what I do.

Thank you, students, for providing me with that much needed reminder.

Here's to hoping the rest of the week can live up to today!  Happy Monday!

Pumpkins and football.

At the beginning of each season, in an attempt to avoid the pain of focusing on what is passing, I like to look ahead and consider what I most look forward to in the coming season.  Obviously we are saying good-bye to summer, and hello to fall.

I have to admit, I love fall.  The only thing I don't like about it is its transience.  It goes as abruptly as it comes and we are left with fallen leaves, bare trees and the whispers of winter.

While winter might be right around the corner, the beauty of fall is lingering and thus I still find it appropriate to foster the love I have for the season by praising the things I appreciate most.

1.  The colors.  It comes as no surprise that the Indiana landscape becomes an entirely new world in the fall.  The trees show their true colors as the cool breeze breathes life into their branches.  Poets and writers may use autumn to illustrate death, but the blushes and vibrant colors make it difficult to see anything suggesting a lack of life.

2.  The weather.  While I am a lover of heat and sunshine, there is nothing better than a wardrobe that consists of jeans, casual tees and cardigans.  A colorful pashmina is never a bad accessory either.  I prefer not to sweat through my clothes.  I prefer instead to rely on a hot coffee to offer me the perfect amount of warmth that a jacket is not yet required to provide.

3.  Football.  I may jokingly complain about having to watch football Thursday, Friday, Sunday and Monday, but the truth is, I secretly like it.  I enjoy Friday nights, under the lights, most.  There is just something about cuddling up under blankets, drinking hot chocolate, and cheering on your team.  I don't imagine it will ever get old.  It's a plus that I get to see my husband out there, doing what he loves, as well!

4.  The holidays.  Fall births holiday season.  Halloween, although not my favorite holiday, brings people out of their homes to hang decorations and greet passing trick-or-treaters.  I appreciate the neighborly charm that Halloween brings to the suburbs.  Then comes Thanksgiving, a holiday that celebrates the best things in life.  While we should always consider our blessings and be grateful for those bestowed upon us, it is too easy to forget.  I love Thanksgiving for the simple fact that there is a day devoted to forcing us to remember our blessings.  The food provides a deep comfort that cannot be forgotten either!

Welcome Fall.  Make yourself comfortable and stick around for a while.

Sincerely,
Kelsey

Words of Wisdom.

Today is International Day of the Girl.   To celebrate the event, CNN asked powerful women what they wish they had known at the age of fifteen.


Arianna Huffington, Editor-in-Chief of the Huffington Post Media Group, would tell her younger self, "Do not let negative experiences--and there are always plenty--get in your way...Many of what seem at the time to be your biggest setbacks will end up leading to your biggest opportunities, and in ways you can't predict."

Queen Rania Al Abdullah of Jordan offers the following words to her younger self: "Learn from those who walked the road before you, but carve your own path.  So be different, explore the twists and turns on your way, and don't fear the occassional fall -- it is part of every journey."

Fabiola Gianotti, a physicist, would tell her fifteen-year-old self, "Always find the time to do something for other people."

Robin Bernstein, a historian and published author at Harvard University, says, "Relax and let the future arrive on its own time and in its own way.  Allow yourself to be astonished."


Reading through these responses, these clever and endearing words, I was inspired to write a little advice of my own.  I think being surrounded by teenagers on a daily basis has provided me with an especially keen insight on the topic.  I am reminded daily of what I wished I had realized and known sitting in those high school classrooms.

If I could go back, I would tell the 15-year-old Kelsey one very important thing:

Don't be afraid to be different.

It seems so simple, but I realized that everything I would tell myself, could be traced back to this very simple fact.  I know that those four years would have been completely different if I hadn't worried so much about being the same as those around me.

While I think the desire to fit in is a pretty natural one of teenagers, I feel such pride in those students I have that go against the grain, the students that relish in their differences and quirks.  They are so interesting.

I know I was interesting, but I wish I had known it then.


View the CNN article here

A meeting of palates.

In the weeks that followed the wedding and honeymoon I endeavored to find a handful of go-to recipes that both Kyle and I would enjoy.

Knowing my husband, you'd know that this was not an easy task for me.  Not because Kyle is picky, but because we have very different palates.  Kyle grew up in a classic "meat and potatoes" household.  I grew up in a carb-loving, pasta-eating home.

In my attempts to appease both palates, I learned that Kyle was satisfied with pasta as long as it was accompanied by some sort of meat.  So, I did what anyone would do.  I turned to the almighty and wonderfully convenient Pinterest.

In scouring through recipe after recipe, I came across several keepers.  I've decided to share one of our favorites, mostly because it is just too good not to share.  Enjoy!


Cajun Chicken Alfredo

Ingredients
4 small boneless skinless chicken breasts (I buy the thinly sliced)
Cajun blackening spice
2 tbs of butter
Olive oil
2 teaspoons minced garlic
1 cup grape tomatoes, halved
1/4 cup dry white wine
1 1/2 cup half-and-half
1 1/2 cup shredded Italian cheese blend
3 oz. herbed goat cheese, crumbled **
1 tsp kosher salt (or more, to taste)
1/2 tsp ground black pepper (or more, to taste)
1 lb fettuccine noodles

**The herbed goat cheese is, in my opinion, the most important ingredient.  The flavor it adds MAKES this dish!  Just ask Kyle :)

FOR CHICKEN

Rinse chicken and pat dry.

If you do not buy the thinly sliced chicken breasts, you'll need to pound each breast flat with a meat mallet between two sheets of plastic wrap.

Sprinkle heavy amount of cajun spice on both sides of each chicken breast, pressing to adhere.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Heat 1 tbs of butter and olive oil in large skillet over medium-high heat, until butter begins to brown.

Place chicken in pan, and sear on one side until brown, about 3 minutes.  Flip chicken and sear on other side until brown.  Work in batches if needed.

Place browned chicken on a rimmed baking sheet and bake for roughly 10 minutes, or until chicken is cooked through.

Remove chicken from oven and thinly slice against the grain.  Set aside.


FOR SAUCE

If the skillet looks dry, add olive oil. Re-heat skillet over medium heat.

Pour in the dry white wine into skillet to de-glaze the pan.  Whisk all of the delicious brown bits off of the bottom of the pan (1-2 minutes).

Add the minced garlic and halved tomatoes to the pan and saute to soften and lightly caramelize, stirring occasionally (1-2 minutes).

Reduce the heat to medium-low and pour the half-and-half to the pan with the tomato mixture, stirring constantly for 1 minute.

Add the salt, pepper and the remaining tablespoon of butter.

Continue to stir the cream mixture while it simmers for 3-4 minutes.  The cream should reduce slightly.

Remove from heat.  Add the grated cheese and the goat cheese to the cream sauce.  Stir constantly until all the cheese has melted and the sauce is smooth.  Taste sauce and adjust seasoning.

Pour cooked fettuccine onto the sauce and top with sliced chicken.

Toss the pasta and chicken until well combined.

Serve immediately.

I hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

House guest.

Our night took a turn for the worse today.

It began with the simple suggestion for dinner:  steak tacos.  I like the idea of prolonging the grilling season as long as possible, mostly because that means more work for Kyle and less work for me.

This simple, and welcome, suggestion quickly turned into a discovery that both of us have dreaded as homeowners.

As Kyle stepped outside he spotted a chipmunk.  At the sound of Kyle's feet crunching the recently fallen leaves, the chipmunk darted towards the house.  The clever little sucker snuck through a hole in our vent leading to our crawl space beneath the house.

Yes, we have chipmunks, and who knows what else, living in our basement.

Kyle immediately ran to the hardware store, shared our story with a knowledgeable worker, and came home with the necessary supplies for catching our newest house guest.

Updates to come.

Sunday frustrations.

Adulthood brings with it both blessings and curses.

One particular curse that I am not fond of is the simple fact that Sundays are no longer a day of rest, but instead they have become an extension of the work week.

While I don't know Him personally, I'm sure God would not be happy.

If I am not grading papers or catching up on school work, I am grocery shopping, cleaning, doing laundry, or some other task that is required by real life.  Because, let's be honest, when else am I going to do these things?

I don't mind errands, but what bothers me is that I HAVE to do school work or else I am, quite possibly, in risk of losing my job.

One of our plan periods was taken away this year, meaning I only have plan every other day.  This cuts down on my ability to grade and actually plan during the school day, leaving me with more to do outside of the school day, time that I am not compensated for in any way.

And yet, the demands of teachers are increasing every time I blink my eyes.  We were told last year that we have two weeks to grade papers and get them back to students.  Seem feasible?  Well, what most don't realize is that every time I collect papers, I'm collecting 100 of them.  Usually those papers range from two to four pages.  I, therefore, have two weeks to not just read, but grade and comment on anywhere from 200 to 400 pages.  If that was all I had to grade, I think I could handle it, but the simple truth is that I have other enriching assignments that are handed in daily.  In a week, I collect at least six assignments, so another 600 pages to grade.

The simple solution would be to get rid of extra work, but I refuse to eliminate assignments that help my students develop the necessary skills required of them to become successful later in life.  Yet, I'm beginning to wonder how I am supposed to do it all.

My frustrations, I've found, are not just my own.

I was speaking with a colleague who told me she had to call someone to babysit her children, on a Sunday, so she could have time to grade papers.

The conclusion?  Something's got to give.

I love my job.  I love teaching.  I love interacting with the students, building relationships.

However, if teachers are not going to be properly compensated for the constantly increasing expectations, the profession will no longer attract the people it should.  We will see more and more excellent teachers, like my dear friend Betty, being forced to choose their families over the teaching profession, a profession that used to be one of the most family-friendly careers.

I am afraid this profession won't improve by the time Kyle and I decide to extend our family.  I'm afraid because I may be forced to say good-bye to something I truly love, for the simple fact that I refuse to let it come before my family.

A powerful voice.

Today, I wore blue.

Our school asked teachers, students and staff to wear blue as a illustration of our fight against bullying.

As both a teacher and a human being, this is an issue that I do not take lightly.  In my profession, I see the products of bullying every day - students with low self-esteems, slouched shoulders, and quiet voices.  I want to reach out a hug them, to tell them that they are loved and appreciated, but to do so might embarass them or make them uncomfortable.  I can only hope that kinds words and positive reinforcement are enough.

I am grateful that so many powerful people, women especially, have spoken out against bullying. Celebrities like Demi Lovato, the Kardashian sisters, and others are refusing to remain silent.  In refusing to remain silent, their messages are loud and powerful.

One of my favorite pieces of literature that I read with my sophomores is a speech that was given by Elie Wiesel, a survivor of the Holocaust.  In dealing with the greatest bully the world had ever seen, Hitler, Wiesel discusses the importance of speaking up.

He says, "...I explained to him how naive we were, that the world did know and remain silent.  And that is why I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation.  We must always take sides,  Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.  Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."

I wish I could teach this speech over and over again, until students finally realized the power in his message.

I wish I could go back and refuse to remain silent.

The best I can do now is wear blue, hope my actions speak for themselves, and continue to use my voice as a proponent for change.

Will you be a proponent for change too?

Welcoming change.

Familiarity is nice.  Familiarity is comforting.

So what's the problem?  It hinders the likelihood of change, adventure, and growth.

I look back on my life and I am grateful that my parents required, at different stages of my life, that I try new and foreign things.  I was put in situations that made me uncomfortable, but it was also these same situations that ended up teaching me invaluable lessons about myself.

My parents instilled in me the idea that being uncomfortable isn't always a bad thing, sometimes it is even necessary.  I like to think that I've taken that lesson to heart.  I've done my best to face change confidently, hoping I might learn something new about myself along the way.

Moving from Colorado, a place of comfort and familiarity, to Indiana, was perhaps one of the greatest changes of my life.  I knew it would not be easy.  I knew I was going to be forced outside of my comfort zone.  I knew I would have to make a whole new set of friends and build brand new relationships.  But I did it anyways.  My parents didn't tell me to, they didn't say it would be good for me.  I left my home.  I left my family.  I left my friends.  I left everything I had ever known and yet, it was the greatest decision I ever made.

I have a new home.  I can no longer rely on the Rocky Mountains to tell me which way is west.   Now I have to determine where Lake Michigan is, and then try to navigate from there.  Lake Michigan does not, for those of you that are unaware, break the surface of land, stretching thousands of feet in the air like say, a mountain range does.  I've been here for eight years now and I still have no idea where Lake Michigan is, unless I'm standing right next to it.  I suppose that, because I am the owner of a beautiful Indiana home, I can overlook these minor flaws in the Indiana landscape, and come to love the Hoosier State.

I have started my own family.  Becoming a wife and promising to love Kyle for the rest of my life has initiated a great deal of change, in both of our lives.  Change that neither one of us anticipated.  Despite the fact that there have not been any new additions to our household, the fact remains that after making those promises to one another and being bound together by God, the two of us have become a family.  Family means a great deal to both of us, and thus our love for one another grew out of the recognition that now we are the other's family.  I love that he is my husband, and I am his wife.  I love that we take care of one another, we actively choose to look past flaws, we forgive more easily, and we never go to bed angry at one another.  It is magical.

I am now Mrs. Becich.  I plan to share with you the stories of a wife, a teacher, a friend, a daughter, a sister and a woman proud of her newest change.