Teachers Who Helped: Believe in Your Students

Hi, folks, This is the last in my series of Teachers Who Helped.  Of course, I saved the best for last. In 1995, I moved to Kirkland, Washington. A friend of mine, Kathi Appelt, encouraged me that there was a vibrant group of writers in the Seattle area and recommended that I take a class on children's writing at the Bellevue Community College. Kathi said the teacher was considered very helpful.

I signed up for the class and met the teacher, Peggy King Anderson. (Those of my readers in the children's writing community are freaking out right now because I am dropping some names!)  Peggy is a teacher like no other I have ever known. She loves her students and her subject. She taught me that my best story is in my soul, curled up inside, and that it is destined to break out of its chrysalis and take flight. But the most important lessons I learned from Peggy were all about loving the journey of writing books, loving the people who write children's books, and actually letting the writing transform me, before it transforms anyone else.

Her Master Classes around her dining room table were magical. Bowls of popcorn, slices of apples, and generous heaps of conversation, I met Holly Cupala, Jolie Stekly, Meg Lippert, Allyson Schrier, Vijaya Bodach, and so many more in these classes. One thing was clear about Peggy: she nurtured excellence. Most writers entered her classes unpublished. Few stayed that way. Peggy encouraged me as a mom, as a wife, and as a student. She understood that people are complex and all the pieces of who you are inform your stories.  She taught me that in the midst of storms of life that writing is my safe place. She said, "Writing is saving you."

I'm a person of faith in Christ. With Peggy's gentle critique, I learned that there was a divine spark in in my work, something wholly outside me. Each book is lit by God and is part of a great fire of goodness. Faith is something beautiful that I share with Peggy. She taught me about holiness of my work, that it is important, and that children were hungry for my words. It is my sacred duty to make my words wonderful, to draw close to the bone, and reveal the hidden truth of the worth of every individual.

Finally, Peggy's belief in each and every one of her students buoys me. Do you have any idea how powerful the faith of a learned teacher is? Her unending encouragement lit a fire of encouragement in me that I try to pass it on. Peggy is no longer teaching classes to devote time her family. (Always keeping those priorities right.)  She does however continue to mentor. Check out the link to website above if you are interested.

My puny words are never going to reveal the total awesomeness of Peggy. If you read my post, and know Peggy, drop by her Facebook, and let her know what a difference she has made in your life. If not, thank the teachers who believed in you.

I hope you liked this series and will back with next week with a series I call Close to the Bone.

Here is a doodle for you.

Here is a quote for your pocket.

I am indebted to my father for living, but to my teacher for living well. Alexander the Great, (His teacher, Aristotle, who was taught by Plato, who was taught by Sophocles.)

Uplift: Maybe the Whole Universe is Alive

Hi folks, I love November. The air is getting a little crisp, and I might have to put away my sandals soon. This month I'm calling the series Uplift. The idea of uplift is to improve socially, culturally, morally, spiritually, etc.  We are all hungry, our hearts beating, struggling for contentment and a sweet spot to thrive. This week I'm going to respond to a quote by Stephen King article  in Rolling Stone because it got me thinking. 

I don't watch the news much because they are not in the business of sharing what is good and right about our lives. The bright light of gratitude and goodness doesn't seem to draw in the throngs like doom and despair. It's a little weird to me too, because everyone knows focusing on the positive is a sure way to success. You have to deliberately cultivate a life that sees good. I know I'm a broken pot like so many of us, but  I have seen glory in a rock on the side of the road. I've seen it in my cat rolling on the sidewalk. I've seen it in the tree growing next to my driveway. Why can't the Voice in Suburbia says something useful and uplifting? 

I find it helpful to put away the troubling thoughts in life, and do the Scarlet O'Hara thing, "I'll think about that tomorrow" and turn my thoughts toward lofty ideas. This desire has helped me respond positively to the suffering and degradation of life and find new directions. I think of this response like flinging open my arms and embracing the moment. I leap in faith. My deep-seated belief is good triumphs, death is not the end, and love never fails. I leap with these thoughts. 

This statement was the one that caught me though the whole article is good. I've thought about it a lot this week: "maybe all intelligent races hit this level of violence and technological advances that they can't get past. And then they just puff out. You hit the wall and that's it." Something deep with in me just goes all "Gene Roddenberry" at this statement, you know, that whole positive view of the future of the ending of wars, moving on from money, and  focusing on exploring the galaxy.  Maybe we rise up. Maybe be we do better. Maybe the whole universe is alive, and we just haven't found that way to perceive it. We started out with smoke signals back in the day and now we have interwebs. Who knows what is next?  

So what is the end game of this little rambling? There's an updraft, dear, perhaps you should jump in it and see where it takes you. Sounds good. 

I will be back next week with more on Uplift. 

One more chicken doodle: "Chicken Angels" from Chickens Take Over Halloween. 

And a quote for your pocket.

We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.  Abraham Lincoln