Since I am currently supervising student teachers and teaching online graduate courses at Grand Canyon University, I am blessed to be able to do this no matter where I travel (for work or pleasure). Online teaching is fine, of course, unless the internet does not work at a travel location, which is my current situation. I used the word "fine" intentionally because I simply don't love it nearly as much as I do teaching in person (or watching teachers teach in person versus via Zoom or watching videos). Why? To tell you the answer to that, I could simply share my dissertation with you). The research I did was about teacher trust in school leaders, but it is so applicable to any supervisor/supervisee relationship. I am blessed (again) to be friends on social media with so many of the former staff I worked with when I was a principal in Florida. Of course I was careful about the "friendships" when I became a principal, and as much as I miss being the principal of that near-perfect school, I love that I can be friends on social media with former teachers, staff, parents, and even students. 
I feel the same way about any former students at Grand Canyon University and at Trinity University. What a Godwink to find out that one of my former Trinity University students is now a choral director at a school district near us in Texas and just happens to be the choral director at our church. Other students from Trinity made the concerted to keep in touch with me, as well, and I even got mentioned in the acknowledgements of a book one of those students wrote. Who keeps in touch like that with their teachers and professors? Oh! I kept in touch with my own professors, as well, after I graduated from my bachelors degree, masters degree and doctoral degree. Why? Because we had formed relationships that graduation from the particular institution would only make better!
Becoming a colleague with my students has been a precious gift I have been given quite a few times. One of my students who graduated from Grand Canyon University (GCU) with his masters degree in Educational Administration found out I was going to be teaching a workshop for school leaders in upstate New York, and he asked if he could attend the workshop . Luckily, his Superintendent felt it was a worthy cause and paid for him to come. What a joy it was to meet him in person! Another student became a principal in a charter school in New Jersey, and he asked if I would come up and teach his teachers how to improve their skills in engaging their students in the learning. No hesitation on my part---what a pleasure to meet him in person after teaching him for his last semester at GCU. 
In fact, I have become colleagues and friends with students I mentored through their dissertation process, and it is so rewarding to change roles, even though we all know it was the gift of education that brought us together in the first place. Now, getting them to stop calling me "Dr. A" is another story, but I suppose I understand that problem. Almost 30 years had passed since Dr. John Moore (the former chair of the education department at Trinity University who passed away this past year) had been my professor when Dave and I went up to Sedona to spend time with him and his lovely wife, Suzanne, but there was no way I could call him anything but Dr. Moore (Dave could call him "John" but not me! That respect and loving rapport he earned from me in college was not going to change because I was almost as old as he had been when he taught me). 
When my student teachers or my graduate students leave my tutelage, I always say, "Once my student, always my colleague" and I have had the distinct pleasure of staying in touch with several of my students for years (and having the joy of watching them earn the roles they had only dreamed about when I was their professor). 
Who is a teacher or professor you remember the most and with whom you still remain in contact? 
Just for today, perhaps consider letting them know how grateful you are to have learned from them and likely taught them a thing or two, as well. 

Happy Communicating,
Shelly 

When I was six years old, I lined up my stuffed animals and taught them. Looking back on that time, I realize that they were all very well behaved. I get it, by the way, all of you who didn't know what you wanted to be when you grew up. I have friends, family members, and students who didn't know what they wanted to do until they were already grown up.

Me?? Who knows why, but not only did the stuffed animals get math and reading lessons, I even begged my sister to let me do her homework for her when we were young girls. What a school nerd I was...and still am. I asked Dave a month or so ago what he thought about the idea of me going back to school to get my doctorate in something else as well as the current education doctorate I have. He vehemently said "No, we don't need to get another doctorate". 
 
Fast forward to 5th grade, when Claudia Edgerton, my beloved teacher who still has to put up with silly Facebook posts every year when Teacher Appreciation rolls around. My parents were divorced, we'd go stay with my dad on weekends, and every single Monday morning, there would be a note on my desk from Mrs. Edgerton, written in her beautiful handwriting on her green and cream colored-stationery, saying something like, "Dear Shelly, I know it must be tough going back and forth from your mom's and dad's homes, but if anybody can handle it, I know you can. Let me know if you need a hug.  Love, Mrs. Edgerton" And when she read to us every day after lunch, I dreamed of being able to order as many books from Scholastic books that I wanted. When I started babysitting, all my money would go to a book order at school. There was a brief time in 6th grade that I set up my tape-recorder and used an old newspaper someone had thrown away in the apartment dumpster (did I really dumpster dive for a newspaper??) that I used my hair brush as a microphone because I thought it might be fun to be a newscaster, but I honestly believe that was simply preparation for teaching Professional Development (PD) sessions to educators. 

When it came time to start looking at colleges, I obviously looked for ones that might offer a scholarship maybe for music (I had decided in my junior year of high school after watching my choir directors in San Antonio teach us so brilliantly that I was going to teach Music---maybe also a decision made in part because my step-mom who I loved so dearly was a music teacher). I even had the chance to do a practicum at the elementary school down the street from my high school with the music teacher, and she taught me a bunch. My parents wouldn't be able to pay for four years at a college where I couldn't get scholarships, grants, and loans, and I didn't want to live too far away from San Antonio, because my sweet mother would have missed me too much. Since I had an extra credit hour I didn't need for academic course work, I got to be an assistant in the Guidance Counselor's office at my high school in my senior year. So, in the spring semester, I saw an announcement go up in the counselor's office for Trinity University looking for about 20 San Antonio high school students who wanted to go into teaching and get a scholarship. Of course I applied, but San Antonio was a big city, and 20 selected? I got asked to come for an interview, and I remember Dr. John Moore, the Chairman of the Education Department at Trinity, and several other faculty members welcoming me into the room for the interview. Mother had saved up money and put a beautiful dress on lay-away at a consignment store in Alamo Heights (kind of the swanky area of San Antonio), and I walked into that interview, terrified and then....not. Why? I was talking about what I was made to do---teach! A short time later, I received a letter from Trinity University, telling me that I had been awarded a scholarship to be a Brackenridge Intern. The money paid for most of my school, room, and board, which was amazing because Trinity University is not a university my family could have ever afforded for me to attend. The internship came with a promise from us that each of us would teach in a lower income school/district in San Antonio for two years after we graduated (with an added bonus for those first two years of teaching)! Mother and I splurged and went out for a nice dinner that night, with Mother telling me she always knew I was going to become a teacher and how proud she was of me. She was always my biggest encourager---believing in me when I wasn't able to, sometimes----at least until Dave came along to become the best husband in the world. 

Trinity University was, and still is, one of the biggest Godsends in my life. It's where I met some of the best friends in my entire life (42 years later, and we still can't get enough of one another), and it's where I found out that, in order to get a minor in Music, I was going to have to compose a piece of music in Music Theory 2. Ummm....this is not what I signed up for. I could already conduct music (I think my dad, who was a lifelong band director, taught us how to do that when we were little girls while my mother was trying to teach us to play piano), but compose music??? Yikes! Let's just suffice it to say that the grade I got in that class was the sole reason I do not have a higher GPA on my transcript. But lo and behold---right about that time I was trying to finish that semester of Music Theory 2---a senior friend of ours at Trinity asked me if I was interested in working at a camp outside of Dallas for that summer after my freshman year for people aged 6 - 60 who had any type of physical or cognitive disability. I'll just suffice it to say I came back after that summer, walked in to Dr. John Moore's office in the education department (where I was also now working for 10-12 hours a week), and told Dr. Moore I wanted to change my degree to Special Education (and I also continued working at that amazing camp for 5 years where I met some more of the best friends in the world and learned so much about advocating for the rights of people with disabilities).
 
I taught special education in San Antonio and then in Dallas (where Dave and I met, fell in love with dancing and each other, and got married). Then Dave's job took us out to New Mexico, and I was blessed to be able to go back to school full time to get a Masters degree in Counseling and Educational Psychology. What fun to get to be a full-time student (and getting to substitute teach in every level of schooling in Alamogordo, New Mexico).
 
When next we moved to the panhandle of Florida, I became a guidance counselor who got to go in every classroom every week and teach lessons on character education. After about 10 years of doing that, I was further blessed to get hired as a principal at the best elementary school in the panhandle of Florida. The teachers, staff, students, parents, community, and I learned about relationships, love, and the beauty of education...together.  Eight years of getting to continue teaching later (just to teachers now, more often than to students), and having gotten my doctorate in education, Dave and I moved to Tucson, and another dream of mine was fulfilled---becoming a professor for teachers who wanted to become administrators---at the same time as getting hired to do professional development for teachers and administrators internationally. 

Twelve years later, and some of my work has slowed down a bit, but I still teach continuously at Grand Canyon University for all the Educational Leadership courses and a bunch of courses for teachers who want to get their masters degree in Special Education or to become curriculum specialists. And while I may not have my stuffed animals to teach, we also love teaching obedience to our Labrador Retrievers (who, unlike those stuffed animals of the past, do misbehave just a bit, at times). 

I thank God for the calling to teach. I thank God for all of the opportunities of a lifetime I have been afforded, and I simply pray that when I get to Heaven, God has some teaching and learning for me to do, because that has been Heaven on earth for me to do, and I don't want it to ever end. 

Just for today....maybe think about what you are called to do, and don't ignore the call! 
Happy Communicating, and I've missed blogging for the last few months!
Shelly
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     I have been blogging on this website since January of 2012. I know that, for continuity and for people to continue to "care" about my blog, I'm supposed to blog weekly. I was really good at that for a number of years, but life happens, and the last two years have given me loads to blog about but the lack of desire to do it because of illnesses, surgeries, blah-blah-blah. I feel like blogging is a lot like jogging (not just because it rhymes).
     For those who might be new to my stories (and suck it up if you've heard this a time or two :) ), I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015. While it was extremely scary and it rocked the world for Dave (my husband of 33 years) and me, there were so many blessings that came from that. First of all, other than having to have a double mastectomy, I did not have to have chemo or radiation. Next, even though Dave made sure I was okay with putting it all out there on Facebook, I found out that three of my friends who had not had mammograms in too long (every year, ladies, for the ladies!) went to get them. Two of them had lumps that needed to be dealt with. They said, quite honestly, that had it not been for me sharing my story, they likely wouldn't have gone for even longer, then what? Now, there's a blessing that cannot be denied. Then, Dave and I found out that humor was one huge way we dealt with stuff like this. After finding out that I needed a double mastectomy (we thought the cancer was just in one breast at first....au contraire), I went straight to one of my favorite AA meetings and talked about what a blessing it was to have caught it in time such that I didn't have to have lymph nodes removed, AND we could do the surgery two days later (no lie----two days----that meant less time to fret and worry). Some of the ladies in the meeting were baffled and said things like, "How can you laugh or be grateful when you have cancer?" Ummm.....because I could have Stage 4 cancer instead of Stage 2? Because I could not have a husband who makes me laugh? Because I could not have an AA program that helps me deal with all my crap? Because I could not have two best friends from college who immediately volunteered to come down right after my surgery and help (Dave was still working at the time---he's now retired, which means he is on the golf course at least 5 days every week). 
     The moral of that long story was that I changed...a lot. My body changed, my gratitude changed, and yes, my irritation at having cancer crept in a lot.  A couple of years after all the surgeries were completed (for then), I began jogging 4 miles a day. I felt good; my body felt like it looked a lot better than it had in a while (except my ladies, who looked a bit like they had been worked over and sewn and cut.....oh wait, they had). L.C. (our middle Labrador Retriever, whose name is pronounced Elsie) was a COVID-bought dog. Dave and I had rescued, fostered, and adopted out about 25 Labs over the course of 4-ish years. But during COVID, we couldn't do home inspections, show a dog to people, etc., so fostering sort of was put on hold. "But what a perfect time to get a puppy!!" (or maybe that was just me saying that), and we bought a little yellow girl. Who knew she was going to be one of those pups who needed to burn off a TON of energy? Well, running with me was her life. We continued to do it when we lived in Tucson, come rain, sun, sleet, or snow (okay, who am I kidding? I think it's about 350 days a year that Tucson gets sun), then we continued when we moved to Boerne, Texas waiting for our house in Bandera (the heart of the hill country) to be finished being built. 
     But then it happened! In 2022, I was traveling up to New Jersey for three days of work in three different places. I got off the plane, and I felt like I had a fever, aches and pains, etc. Dave found me an Urgent Care close to my hotel and I promptly went. The doc came in, I told him my symptoms, and he said, "I think you have Covid but I'll do a test to check." I kind of laughed and said that I had gotten all my Covid vaccines, and then I promptly threw up on his shoes. The Covid shot came back positive, so I had to call three different school districts and tell them I wouldn't be able to come see them. Once home, I was really sick for two weeks, to the point that medical staff came to the house to give me IV infusions. So, I thought that was it. I thought I was done with Covid and all its symptoms until I began getting upper respiratory/pulmonary issues on a regular basis (at least every three weeks). I used inhalers, a nebulizer, a spirometer, and a myriad of antibiotics. Uggghhhh.... The last 18 months in particular have been rough as I have had double pneumonia on top of scar tissue that was left from the Covid love, kidney infections, and so much more fun, it's tough to remember it all. 
     All of that is to tell you that I have not been active, and I love my bed more than I ever have before. But one thing has not altered. I get down on my knees every morning (I used to have an iron-footed prayer stool inherited from my late grandmother until one leg of it gave up, and I have since gotten an actual wooden kneeler (like a miniature pew) so I can pray for gratitude of all the blessings I have been graced with. No, life is not perfect, and L.C. can't wait until I am back to being able to jog a little bit, but I am blessed with so much, I can't express how grateful I am. All of THAT to tell you that I am trying to get my butt back to writing my weekly blogs. If you feel so inclined, you can poke me on Facebook, LinkedIn, and/or Twitter to remind me if I miss a week.
     Thank you for reading what I write, and I pray that it is helpful in some way to you, even if a line gives you a giggle every once in a while.

Happy Communicating,
​Shelly

This is Fathers' Day weekend, where dads get ties they will never wear or they get visited by kids who only come once a year to see them. It's also a day that families go to church then gather for a meal and talk about all the things about their fathers for which they are grateful. I suppose it looks different from family to family and from year to year. 
This year, a few of us will be going to visit my dad in a "health care center" where he has been for over two years. In the beginning, the intention was to get him healthy and walking well enough to go home. His legs are so atrophied now, he will never walk again. But guess what! He is 93 years old. I love my dad with a fierce vengeance that cannot and will not waiver. But guess what (again)! It wasn't always that way. He and I were estranged pretty much most of my high school and college life, while he was busy with a new family (my parents divorced when I was 11). I honestly have no young memories of Fathers' Day with him, but I do know this. We will go tomorrow, and I will say a semblance of what I say every time I hug him and kiss him goodbye:  "I love you so much, and if you are not here tomorrow, I will have absolutely no regrets".  I pray for all families to feel that way, although I know it is likely a pipedream. 

My dad is not my only father figure, however. I gained a Godfather and Godmother, who Dave and I would take my mom to visit often. When we bought a little house north of Houston for my mom to live in the woods (her dream), Uncle Bob and Aunt Bonnie were within an hour from her, so they could help her out when she needed the help. When Aunt Bonnie passed away, I saw the brightest of the oh-so-bright lights that would shine in Uncle Bob's eyes fade just a bit. After my mother passed away, Dave and I made a point of going to visit Uncle Bob (and go eat Mexican food) every chance we got, but he was in Texas and we were in Florida at the time.  When I got the word that he was in hospice condition, Dave and I immediately booked flights to Houston. We went straight to the hospital and the first thing he said to me was, "Howdy, Dr. Arneson. What all are you up to?" There were pauses between words, but it didn't matter. I heard it loud and clear. We talked for awhile, and he told us that other family members wanted to move him somewhere else. I leaned over and whispered to him, "You want to go see Bonnie, don't you?" A tear fell from both our eyes, I think, as he slowly nodded. "Don't stick around for us", I said and held his hand as he held mine so tightly and looked me directly in the eyes and said, "We are so damn proud of you and Dave and the life you have made". The next morning in our hotel room, we got a call at 5:00 saying Uncle Bob had passed away peacefully in his sleep. What an amazing role model of a father he was to me and to so very many people----he gave everything he had and would do more if he could. I always thought he was "beautiful", and I know that might sound a little odd, but picture George Clooney with a thinner, less rounded face, and that was my Uncle Bob.

Three days ago, I found out that my very favorite professor of all time and former Chairman of the Education Department at Trinity University had passed away last Saturday night in Sedona (where he and his absolutely stunning and lovely wife live now). Ouch! That one hurt. In my senior year in high school, I was working one period a day (I had too many credits already) in the counselor's office, and my counselor told me about a unique scholarship opportunity at Trinity University called the Brackenridge Interns. Dr. John Moore was the one who had pushed to get money to offer scholarships to students who lived in San Antonio and wanted to be education majors (of any sort). The stipulation was we would then work in one of the lower income school districts in San Antonio for two years. Trinity University? Me? No way!! I had already figured I would go to UTSA and pay my way through college. This scholarship got me into the most elite program in one of the most elite schools I could possibly imagine. Dr. Moore changed my entire world. Were it not for him, I would not be where I am today, I can promise you that. The funniest part about being a student of Dr. Moore's was trying to decipher the writing and feedback on my papers. I could get most words but I just couldn't get them all. I was amazingly blessed to get a school-to-work job (the scholarship was a LOT, but it didn't pay for everything) in the education department. I worked exclusively for Dr. Moore and his secretary, Doris. I loved running errands around the beautiful campus; I loved sitting in his office as he talked with me about educational policy; I will never forget being in one of his courses when the Challenger exploded and Astronaut Christa McAuliffe and the other astronauts perished. We talked about what it meant to have a teacher go to space and we grieved.  Dr. Moore was famous for his wide smile, silly jokes, and enormous hugs that I treasured deep within my heart. He and his wife Suzanne (who was equally lovely, by the way) would invite education students over to his house for a happy hour every so often. We kept in touch every single year at Christmas time, and this time, I had Dave there by my side trying to decipher what word Dr. Moore had written on the card. It made me laugh outloud (and cry a bit, too), as I just now found some of the papers I wrote in his courses in which he said things like, "A good review of San Antonio schools, Shelly. If we _________________________, we will be ___________." I love it just the way it is. I will keep those papers and cards forever. Dave and I were blessed to go up to Sedona a couple of times when we lived in Tucson and go visit Dr. Moore and Suzanne. He gave us a tour of a monument at which he was a docent and guide. Watching him talk to the children there made my heart swell with pride. This was my former professor, aging, yet still teaching in ways each kid could understand. Good thing he didn't give them anything in writing----they'd probably still be trying to decipher it. We also got to go to church where Suzanne played the piano and organ and Dr. Moore sang. I was in three choirs while at Trinity, so he knew I sang, to say the least. He made me come up and sing with the choir, and he beamed when he introduced me to the congregation as one of his favorite students ever. I raised my hand, and shyly asked out loud, "Did you just say "ONE OF"?" We all laughed. Seeing their beautiful home and the life they had built in Sedona post-retirement was a trip to a museum. Everything there had a story----it still does. 

Who are your father figures?
Be sure to let them know how much they mean to you (and if they have passed away, maybe consider telling them from your knees).

​Shelly
P.S. This picture was one of my papers Dr. Moore graded in 1986. And this is an EASY one to read. 

I have to admit that, while I am in the middle of several surgeries that I need to get through (hopefully by the end of the year----we've already maxed out our "out-of-pocket", so bring on the surgeries, hospital rooms, etc. before the end of the year). But lots of people I know have stressors in their lives, and somehow we mostly live through them. How?
For me, it is within three things where I find peace:

• God---I can find Him when I kneel down and pray every single morning, then I read three meditation books that I have partners with so we text about our thoughts regarding the readings; I can easily find Him in church when I am sitting next to Dave, holding his hand and listening to a sermon that feels like it was hand-picked for me---or when it's my week to sing with our Praise and Worship Team and the music and lyrics almost lead me to tears; I can find Him when the breeze is blowing in the backyard and the dogs and I are outside, sitting in the sunshine (the dogs are either on my chaise lounge with me or on their own----spoiled rotten!).
• Talking and Listening to my own personal Spiritual Advisors---If you don't have one of these people in your life, I pray you find at least one. Last year, God and my three spiritual advisors told me I needed to focus on my health (I have had double pneumonia with sepsis twice in two years) and quit working for three months. Whew! For a girl who is hooked on my work so very much (traveling to schools and districts across the country working with teachers and administrators), that was like a stab in the chest. But you know what? Their advice paid off. During that time, I did still teach one online class at Grand Canyon University at a time (the semesters for Ed. Leadership courses) are 6 weeks long, so they are compact and I could do a few during that time. Shhhh.....don't tell my Spiritual Advisors I may have cheated a little bit. Through those three months, my time with God became richer, as I spent a lot more time doing spiritual things with spiritual people. Again, do you have at least one? If not, you don't have to believe in God or belong to a church. You just need the willingness to open up from the heart (not the head, so much; I can intellectualize myself into or out of anything) to another human being.
• Quiet time---I know I alluded to it before but taking time to read (I absolutely love fiction books----in fact, I have a t-shirt that says "I stand with the banned" as my favorite author is Jodi Picoult whose books have been banned in so many high schools, it breaks my heart) is one of my biggest passions. That need for quiet time for me is what pulls me over a bit into the Introvert side, although being an Extrovert is so easy when I am with family and friends I love. Sometimes I sit in my library and stare out the wall of windows that face Bandera and the road to Kerrville just to remind myself why we moved to the hill country of Texas (it might have just been a bonus that we are in the land of Tex-Mex food as well, which is my favorite food). The dogs have a great life. They have a 25 acre park that runs along the Medina River (which is dry in our development but still runs in many places) where they can chase deer, turkeys, have run-ins with armadillos (and I mean literally dog and armadillo both in the air run-ins, and they can play with other dogs----there is a leash requirement, but instead of a traditional leash, we use a collar and a buzzer. It is beautiful to watch them run and we can be satisfied that they are living their best life ever!!

What is it that brings you peace? Writing? Teaching? Birdwatching? Gardening? (Whatever it is, I'd love for you to write to me a comment in Facebook, Twitter, or LinkedIn and tell me).

Happy Communicating----this brings me peace, as well!!
​Shelly

One of my master's level students (a teacher who wants to become a principal) wrote a discussion post about what he's learned this semester. He said, "Leaders must display the expectation, not preach it" (personal communication, G. Tootle, 2025). I read that a bit ago, and thought: this is not just for leaders but for all of us. 
Education: Obviously, as an educator of educators, I know this is critical. My own dissertation for my doctorate (you can take a look if you need a book to go to sleep by :) ) was all about teacher trust in school leaders. If I had a nickel for every time a teacher wrote something like "He says he has an open-door policy, but his door is always closed" or "I'm pretty sure my students don't even know who our principal is", it would be like winning the lottery. We can't just hang out in our office. We have to be where our students' parents likely want us to be, which is in classrooms as much as possible. Yes, I know, it takes time and it takes lesser important tasks to others, but it is so well worth it.

Marriage:  I think this is another space in which my student's phrase makes so much sense "We must display the expectation, not preach it". If I am an affectionate person by nature, I need to reach out for Dave's hand to hold it, because it might just not be in his DNA to instigate that hand-holding. I'm modeling the behavior I truly want and need. While Dave understands that I am always working. There is always someone in one of my courses or contacts from districts with whom I work who needs a question answered. If Dave and I are on vacation, we have to set those boundaries about work time versus play time.

Parenting:  I'm treading  on squishy ground here, as I am not a parent of human children, only the canine kind. However, having been a principal and having a student sent for the office for using my Mother would have made me wash my mouth out with soap or a racial slur of some sort, I know the ramifications of modeling what we want to see and hear at our school. So, I used to have the student call their parent (I did give them a choice), even if they are at work, and say the word or sentence they said.  Most of the time, this worked amazingly well. The dad would say something like "We don't ever talk that way at home, so I don't have an f'ing clue where he got that." Wow! If only I were kidding. But at least half the parents would say, "No Playstation for a week for you, and apologize to Dr. Arneson, your teacher and to _______, who you hurt with your words".

We do simply have to model what we want to see in the people around us.
Sorry for the lapse of time. I have had some health issues that are all being taken care of, but I'm going to model joy today.....because I want it, too!!

Happy Communicating,
Shelly

What's new? The date, first of all, which I am highly likely to forget for the first few weeks of signing anything. I'm sure I'll be writing 2024 until February (ugh). I've talked to several friends who say, "I think I gained 10-15 pounds over the holidays", so the change is likely to hold off on all the sweets and get some more exercise. Dave decided to change the golf course he belongs to that will be only 10 minutes from us versus 35 minutes from us. That will be a big change.
Other than one week that Grand Canyon University didn't have us (professors) correspond with students, I've been teaching two or three classes, so I'm not sure about anything new with me. I'm still waking up and praying every morning on my prayer stool, doing my morning meditation readings, and walking the dogs typically twice a day. 
Hmmmm.....what about this I.V. girl we adopted? 
We already had two Labs (Kirby and L.C.), so we didn't need another Lab. But somehow, God had a funny way of showing us that there was a little girl who needed us. The back story isn't pretty at all, so readers beware:  her dad was a Great Pyrenees, and her mom was a Lab. They were found on the south side of San Antonio,  strangled to death and tethered to this litter of puppies (I think there were five to start with but once they were found, only two survived, and even one of those died likely because of drinking bad milk from the deceased mom). One girl survived this heinous situation and was taken to a rescue near us. A friend told us about her, and while she didn't seem very Lab-like, she seemed really sweet when we met her at the kennel where she was being boarded until someone volunteered to foster her. The moment our kids met her, she began bouncing around a little bit and showing some personality.
We said we would take her home and foster her at least for the time being. She promptly threw up in the back seat of the pick-up on the way home, and since I love the name Ivy, we decided to name her I.V. for "I vomited".  Stick with Ivy for a minute or two.....
In the last three months we have had this girl, she has thrived to excess. She does not need a leash, because she knows she is part of our "pack".  She sleeps right between Dave and me (much to the frustration of L.C. and Kirby, I think), and she is absolutely beautiful and loving and all the things you would want in a dog. I am not sure when the fostering turned into adopting, but I'm pretty sure it was withing about three days. While the others in her litter, unfortunately, were not able to "thrive", she was thriving for all of them. 
I did a DNA test on her, and it came back as: 56% Great Pyrenees; 22% Akbash; 14% Lab; and 8% Greyhound (which I, personally, think she looks the most like). She runs free out in the meadow down by the river, chases deer for hundreds of yards then comes right back to us (L.C. is currently more interested in searching for golf balls, as someone set up a driving range out in the fields), and is living her absolute best life.
What's new with you? 
I'm hoping it's half as great as what is new with I.V. (now stands for "I'm Victorious").

Happy Communicating,

​Shelly

The sermon alluded to change today, and I figured it was a perfect time to talk about it.
The amount of changes in my life are extraordinary. As a child of divorced parents, I changed schools seven times in twelve years. I don't look at that as so much of a negative thing, though, as it taught me how to make friends. I had a best friend in 3rd grade, another one in 4th grade (in New Braunfels), and then a really great best friend in 4th, 5th, and 6th grade when we moved to San Antonio. Then we had to move again, so I made another best friend in 7th grade. Then we had to move again, and I made friends with lots of new people, including a new best friend. High school brought new friends and a best friend who is still one of my best friends forever. And then came college. Talk about change. I basically had the same roommate and suitemates for three years, until several of us became RAs (resident assistants). One of my best friends from college became my near neighbor in Dallas, and we were each other's maids of honor in each other's weddings. Change was abundant in friendships, that's for sure, but there are 9 of us from college that get together every fall for a long weekend. Have we seen changes? Most certainly....three of us have had breast cancer, one brain cancer, and one colon cancer. But one thing stays constant----we are there for each other despite the changes in hair color, weight, children, divorces, and so much more. 

I can't help but be reminded of one the most significant changes in my entire life (besides accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior in 8th grade), and that was when I married Dave in 1992. He was 31 and I was 26 (no need to do the math, please), so we had already established some routines of our own. Meshing those together was an interesting task. I remember the first time I had made potato salad for dinner. After dinner, I asked if there was anything Dave would have done differently (danger, danger!). Dave asked why I didn't peel the potatoes. I tried to explain that their jackets were the healthiest part. He said he had never had potato salad with "jackets". Game on----for 32 years----we still talk and laugh about this. You see, we had been single long enough to have our own ways of doing things, and it was time for change and compromise. Change isn't always bad, but it sure made for a great story for years and years. As our Episcopal priest said today, "No matter who you voted for, change is coming." She talked about change brings new life and it brings challenges. I totally agree.

In 2012, I resigned from my position as principal at the best elementary school in the world, Edge Elementary School in Niceville, Florida. Dave and I were moving to Tucson (change from a wet sauna to a dry sauna), and I had a decision to make about whether I wanted to apply for principalships in Tucson or if I wanted to do something totally different within the education world. I became a consultant for Charlotte Danielson's Framework for Teaching, that we had just adopted in Okaloosa County. For 12 years now, I have traveled the world, working with schools, districts, and universities, helping teachers grow in their practice; helping principals grow in the practice of coaching teachers; and helping university professors grow in their ability to help grow effective teachers and school leaders. I will never forget the first day of school that I was a principal no longer. I cried like a baby when I saw school buses picking up kids. But a few weeks later, I was in upstate New York, where one of my favorite principals (who is now a Superintendent) came up to me and said, "It is clear that you miss being a principal. You obviously made an impact and it made an impact on you. The thing is: you were at one school. Now, you make an impact on so many people at so many schools." Tears fell down my cheeks as I hugged him and thanked him for his kind words. What a change!!

Just for today, think about the changes in your life.....some good, some not so great. What would you change if you could do it today?
I wouldn't change a thing, as I do believe that change brings progress, no matter who we voted for or what we believe in.

Happy Communicating!
Shelly

Wow! This is a tough topic to discuss right now, as people are geared up to vote, or already have, and there is such tension in society. I just spent a glorious weekend with 8 other Trinity University graduates from 1988 (please don't do the math), and we reveled in the fact that we have continued to be besties for 40 years. I know for a fact that if I got into a hefty bind, every single one of them would have my back. Guess what! We didn't talk politics the entire weekend. There was no need. Republican or Democrat, we love each other, and our political views don't alter that love in the least. That brings me such joy!
Schools are feeling a lack of joy (let's be honest) since COVID. Why? Students came back to brick and mortar schools a full year (in many cases, more) behind. But those teachers are still expected to teach that grade level standard since the state test will be based on that. In my humble opinion, because I choose joy, I would have said, "If you were about to start 2nd grade when COVID hit, you will be coming back as a 2nd grader". I believe that would have been the best thing we could have done for students and teachers. If I were a part of the U.S. Department of Education (which I truly pray remains in existence after this election), I would insist that we make a level playing field across the country. Isn't that what we tried to do with Common Core, and it became a bad word (or phrase) for so many who didn't even understand the impetus for it. Choosing joy also means I choose to understand the good behind something as important as this. I was a principal in a district that was in between two military bases. Students came and went, not always be choice, but by what the next assignment was for the military parent. The result was that students would move from one state to ours (Florida) and would either be ahead (even a year) or behind (even a year) simply because of the state standards that were being taught at specific grades.
Imagine if we had federal standards for students: all students in 1st grade must pass these standards in these subjects to move on to 2nd grade. Then, if families have to move around, the pacing of the teaching is not so "off" as it is now. Folks, "Common Core" was not a bad word. Many just didn't understand it. Here's another example: A parent complains that their child is being taught that they have to draw out or "show their work" on a math problem that they have memorized (8 X 8 = 64). Why should I have to learn the reason WHY that works? Well, I choose joy, so I am more than happy to tell you. At what numbers did we stop memorization of numbers? Typically at 12 X 12, right? At least that's what the racecars in 2nd or 3rd grade show on the bulletin board. The problem is unless we learn HOW multiplication works, we can't rely on our rote memorization once we get to 3-digit multiplication. I love that students can reason through the fact that 128 X 346 couldn't possible equal something like 475. Why? Because they have been taught to reason through multiplication. "Use a calculator", you say? Or your cell phone? Sure, but I love to watch young minds be able to reason through something we weren't taught ourselves.
How do we help bring joy back to schools? I see it all the time as I visit schools and districts around the country (and the world, actually). First of all, I believe every school should have a regular fellowship snack or meal together. Getting together with food encourages relationships and trust. I have research to back that up, by the way (Arneson, 2012). Next, we need to allow teachers to teach without frequent disruptions (I, myself, have been annoyed when teaching PD in a school in which someone came on the intercom at least once every 30 minutes). Let teachers teach!! And can we please agree that piling on PDs that are not authentic, relevant, and sustainable is a waste of everyone's time? I love what I do because the PDs I teach about new strategies in questioning and engagement, etc. are welcomed with open arms (mostly), AND I get to go in teachers' classrooms and watch them teach, resulting in a reflection conference in which they are the ones who do the bulk of the talking. Teachers want to talk about teaching. They just don't seem to be able to find the time to do it. Let's help them find the time to talk about teaching. I believe with my heart and soul that it will bring some joy back into the teaching profession.

In times of trouble, we have a choice. We can wallow in self-pity and flail our arms around in helplessness or we can choose joy and a way forward.
Just for today, think of one thing you could do to choose and act on joyful things.
Happy Communicating,
Shelly

​Arneson, M. S. (2012). Character and Competence: A Mixed Methods Study on Teacher Trust in Principals in a Midsized County in Florida (Doctoral dissertation, University of West Florida).