Lent – April

“Do you have a cold?”

“No. It’s just allergies.”

Hay fever in the desert? Or is it spring fever? Or is it allergies?

As early as the 1800s, Arizona became known for its therapeutic powers over those suffering from a range of maladies including tuberculosis, asthma, arthritis, and allergies. But as cities in this Southwestern desert grew, human transplants also brought with them non-native trees, plants, and grasses. Today, the droves of people who continue to migrate across the Mississippi do not necessarily seek cures for health conditions. Instead, they seek communities where the weather is perpetually dosed in sunlight, where opportunity prevails, and where the cost of living remains lower than in other areas of our country.

In the late 1980s, I remember the county in which I live declaring war on pollen by banning future plantings of olive trees – trees I learned were first imported to California by Franciscan missionaries in the late 1700s. By the way, my research shows me that some of these hearty fruity-bearing trees live an average of 500 years…and some even as long as 2,000 years! The pollen continues to fly!

When I was younger, my Dad always had a handkerchief ready to stem his sneezes triggered by everything from ragweed to milkweed. He called that “hay fever,” even though I recall him suffering the same seasonal “colds” in March and April too. When our family subsequently moved from Maryland to Arizona, hay fever followed us. At one point or another, each of our family members has, without a doubt, suffered from these inherited allergies. Manifestations have evolved to include distracted behavior, staring at nothing, forgetting to meet deadlines, and feeling lightheaded when exposed to the fragrant intensity of orange trees blossoming outside open windows.

This seasonal disease does not discriminate by age. Much like my own family, I have observed that high school students tend to cough and sneeze through almost the entire second semester. Add to this their own brand of symptoms to include springtime romances, late-afternoon lethargy, and seriously stuffed noses. The only diagnosis – Spring Fever.

Principal’s Ponderings – Honey Bees and Allergies

Honey bees are busy doing what honey bees do as they drone in and among the orange trees blossoming on our campus. Ah-choo…it smells so (sniffle, sniffle) good!

Ah, it is spring in the desert and the blooming citrus is only one sign of the season that has emerged almost overnight as April makes its debut in the desert. A short walk around the school reveals dashes of color evidenced by the translucent buttery daffodils and orange-tipped tulips that students planted in October and that now fill a planter in front of the Administration Building. Yellow rose-like clusters defy gravity on the bushes crawling up a pillar leading into the courtyard. Students and faculty alike grab tissues and stifle their sneezes even as they lean in to breath the sweet perfume of the flowers surrounding them.

These signs of spring – from bursting buds to full-bloom allergies – seem to parallel the symptoms our students are showing too. We are witnessing the full spectrum of student response to academics. On one hand, creativity abounds in video presentations of Stem and Sustainability “prototype inventions,” and dialogues from British Literature that have students walking through Dante’s circles of the Underworld. On the other hand, the technology coordinator recently joked, “…the amount of brain stoppage is staggering.” She noted a recent assignment she handed off to five groups in her computer class. Of those groups, only two met the minimal requirements of a simple rubric.

April’s progress reports signal the beginning of the final six weeks or so of the school year. Fortunately, this reality check of grades tends to spur most students into positive action to either maintain or buckle down through the last days as they turn in missing assignments, study more intentionally for tests, and show up more often than not for tutorials. Athletes juggle their time along with their baseball bats and volleyballs to meet the demands of their hectic schedules. Thespians memorize lines and choreographed steps as they prepare for the upcoming musical while completing homework between practices. Even the faculty struggle to meet curriculum goals while also keeping up with devising lessons that engage weary learners!

Our calendars are full. Sports continue for the next several weeks, AP exams are just around the corner, as is Easter, the Sports Banquet, Prom, Senior Breakfast, the Awards Ceremony, Graduation, and final exams. Just like the bees as they pollinate the orange trees, gathering nectar along the way to make their honey, we too, continue to make the best use of our own resources in order to ultimately bear the fruit of this school year’s labors.

William Shakespeare said it best when he stated that “April hath put a spirit of youth in everything.”Pass the Kleenex please!

Lent – March

 I endeavor to pull the weeds up from their roots. One by one, I dig my hands into the dirt and tug, slowly releasing the green stems from their tenuous earthen hold. Spring has certainly imposed its way through the desert floor, literally pushing its straggly blossoms through the rocks that decorate our yard and around the carefully cultivated cacti placed in and among the paths of strategic landscaping.  

Honestly, weeding seems an exercise in futility. With patience and time, the soaring temperatures over the next few months will force this raw vegetation into submission. The little suckers will literally turn brown and recede back to where they came from! Yet, we must “cultivate our garden,” I muse – thinking of Candideand remembering my literature classes from high school. “I am pretty sure Voltaire was being sarcastic,” I mutter.

“What did you say,” my husband asks. He is near me, bent low, and as intent as I in picking each and every weed in our path. 

“Just thinking out loud,” I respond. 

We are mostly quiet in our pursuit to rid the backyard of the invading sprouts. Some of the weeds test me with yellow and purple flowers that have crowned their sticky, thorny stems. Do I pull them or leave them? There is something hypnotic about this chore. My focus is on such a small territory. It is quiet in the afternoon heat and despite the tension in the back of my thighs, I feel other emotionally stressed muscles giving in to the work at hand. The sun casts it rays on my shoulders, and I feel embraced in the warmth. My mind (already distracted by quotes from classic literature) drifts to metaphors about weeding, sorting the wheat from the chaff, spring cleaning…and Lent.

Principal’s Ponderings – Weeds or Wildflowers

Are those weeds or wildflowers? When spring blooms across our Sonoran desert, I marvel at the sash of yellow blossoms that carpet the landscape. Upon closer look though, I also begin to notice the weeds. My yard is filled with them.

As a result of an unusually rainy (and snowy!) winter, the earth has unleashed millions of dormant seeds and has empowered them to push through the crusty soil as they strive to reach inch by inch toward their source of light and warmth.

The visual image of flowers and weeds is a great metaphor for Lent. After all, we are given these weeks before Easter as an opportunity to “weed our gardens,” to clear away what holds us back from reaching our own source of light.

Students – especially during this time of the school year – struggle with the parts of their routines that potentially stymie their personal growth. Their “weeds” tend to stem from not managing their time effectively, forgetting to turn in assignments, getting caught up in social issues, and becoming so mired in the day-to-day that they forget they are working toward good, solid goals that will launch them into their futures. Over the years, I cannot count the number of students who have asked me questions like these: “So, how is this going to help me? Why do I have to even go to school? I can still work if I don’t graduate, right? What is the purpose?”

Don’t we all ask questions like this? As adults, we think we must have all the answers even when we don’t. Instead of ignoring the questions students ask about the reasons they have to be in school, I encourage parents and teachers to draw upon our own experiences and help students discover that this time of curiosity and growth in their lives is truly worthwhile. In lieu of answering the questions for them, I challenge students to venture their own responses. The inspiration to cultivate their lives will come from those who support them, but they begin to realize that much of the “gardening” has to be done by themselves, and that this requires self-discipline and hard work. They ultimately learn that much of their growth includes the flowers and the weeds.

Lent – March

Tackling another Sunday afternoon, I am not sure if I should fold the laundry or do the bills first. I have completed my lesson plans and the school newsletter draft is in its final stages. The pasta sauce is simmering on the stove and I think I just need to water the plants inside and outside…then, relax. Maybe. Whatever happened to Sunday afternoons? When I was a child, those hours between church and dinner were the most creative afternoons of my life. I remember spending hours during my “artist” stage carefully drawing in my sketch book. At other times, I filled journals with little girl dreams. If the weather was nice, my sisters and I would join our neighbors in heated games of marbles or riding bikes to our fort under the lilac bushes down the street. We would glue sequins to crafts, bake oatmeal cookies, read library books. 

I also remember quality time on those days with my parents. Dad might watch football or putter in the yard. I am sure Mom made the sauce and prepared for our dinner, but I remember her taking time to play Monopoly with us or help us to sew clothes for our Barbie dolls. Some Sundays, we would take a family day trip to Washington D.C. After Mass at the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, we might go to a Smithsonian museum or grab sub sandwiches and chips for a picnic at one of the parks. To this day, I crave pistachio ice cream – a special treat we enjoyed when we visited the National Zoo. 

This was before we plotted our days via electronic calendars, before our telephones buzzed with reminders and notifications. I miss those Sundays.

Principal’s Ponderings – Scheduling Time for Lent

To some of us who track the liturgical seasons on our Google calendars, Lent often appears as a transparency superimposed over work schedules, sporting events, and academic semesters. We assign colors and notifications that pop up on synched devices. Chimes and banner messages remind us to get to meetings on time, pick up our children, and pay our bills. But not once have I set up an alert to remind myself to get to morning prayer at school or to avoid meat on Friday! The purple of Lent seems to get lost in the orange of a weekend barbecue and the red of weekly meetings and upcoming events. 

Not that He has to, but God has proven to me once again that He has our best interest at heart! During this time of year, the calendar honestly gets so overloaded that I often choose not to look at it, knowing that whatever I must do will eventually cross the threshold of my office. This week, however, it felt like time slowed down – if only during our scheduled daily all-school chapels. And for that, I thank God and I thank the school community.

“Your goal is not always your destination,” our social studies teacher recently shared with the students. As chapel leader, he talked about his own journey and how he eventually landed in his teaching position at St. Augustine. Although he said he is convinced that he is meant to be here, “it was never part of the plan.” His best story was about how nervous he was during the interview process that included teaching a sample lesson in front of students he had never met. He shared “stomach-wrenching” details that do not require further description.

That made me think about my own life and the lives of the teachers and the students who have come together one way or the other to create the family of our school. I am fond of saying that I believe every single person at our school, to include myself, is destined to be here. 

I felt that connection later in the week when we did the Stations of the Cross. As a teacher in a Catholic school for the past many years, the Stations have always been part of the Lenten routine. But for some reason, this year’s reflections seem to have hit a chord with the school and with me personally.

Using the best in technology, the words are projected on the front wall of the chapel and everyone participates. When I noted to our school’s deacon that the reflections seemed especially relevant, he nodded and said he wrote them. At first, I thought he was kidding. He wasn’t. He told me he adapted them, using the more traditional writings as a guide. He did this when the students seemed to be facing some particularly challenging trials. When he shared this with me, I felt blessed in two ways – one that Deacon gave us the gift of this resource and in another way, so thankful that I had been shaken a bit out of my routine and could see the Stations from a new perspective. I think we all felt that way. Here is an example from the seventh station when Jesus fell for the second time. I believe everyone listening to these words during what was the end of a very hectic week, was touched in meaningful way.

“This is the second time you have fallen on the road. As the cross grows heavier and heavier it becomes more difficult to get up. But you continue to struggle and try until you’re up and walking again. You don’t give up. Sometimes things get me down. Others seem to find things easier to do or to learn. Each time I fail, I find it harder to keep trying.  I find myself wanting to just give up, to quit instead of continuing to work to the end.  Sometimes I think I should know more than I do. I become impatient with myself and find it hard to believe in myself when I fail. It is easy to despair over small things, and sometimes I do. Help me when things seem difficult for me. Even when it’s hard, help me get up and keep trying as you did. Help me do my best without comparing myself with others.”

Deacon Andy Corder

 …and help us Lord, to remember that Lent is not a time to “fit into” our schedules, but a reminder of who sets the calendar of our lives. Amen!

Some gifts just keep on giving. Nearly a decade ago (nine years to be exact), my husband presented me a package wrapped in paper emblazoned with bright yellow sunflowers. Tucked under my pillow for me to discover on the eve of my fiftieth birthday, I was rather underwhelmed to find a paperback book extolling all the rules and tools I would ever need as a manager and leader. I had just accepted a job as the principal of St. Augustine Catholic High School after having spent the better part of the last decade as a teacher then principal of Immaculate Heart elementary in our Diocese of Tucson. I was excited and nervous about my pending transition from kindergarten hugs to freshmen bravado, from junior high anxieties over pre-Algebra to seniors counting credits and writing college essays. Still, did I really need a treatise on leadership skills for such a career progression let alone a milestone birthday?

Today, I glance up from paperwork on the desk in my office and there it is…that book, tipped ever so slightly as it braces two other books on that shelf – the Catechism of the Catholic Church and the New American Bible. Slightly worn by time rather than use, those three books are probably the most important in my office if only as reminders of the profound opportunities I have every single day as a parochial school administrator and even more importantly, a forever student of life. The Word of God will always nourish my soul, the Catechism goes beyond the school handbook when I need the foundation of our church’s policies, and the other book…let’s just say school principals always need resources.

My husband redeemed himself when he also surprised us with a family trip to Italy to celebrate my half-century birthday, but I have to admit that the book on leadership skills has become one of my most treasured gifts. I can’t recall the number of real-life scenarios I have tackled over the past several years that have required objective yet empathetic, sound yet thoughtful, and difficult and often heart-wrenching decisions that often remind me my job is not defined by Monday to Friday and hardly constrained to hours between 9 to 5. I can build all the consensus in the world, but I stand alone with a final decision. 

Dinner time conversations have been lively, sometimes filled with laughter, other times tears and frustration.  My husband bears it all as he listens to my emotional cadence. “Just remember your rules and tools,” he reminds me with a smug smile.  “By the way, where is that book?”

 “Would you like to borrow it?” I reply.

There is absolute joy in what I do. I am sincere in saying that I always look forward to going to school. I work with an amazing faculty and staff all dedicated to doing what is best for our students. I tell friends that I am enjoying high school more now than when I was a teenager. I love the noise, the basketball games, the bake sakes, student council meetings, dances, brainstorming, faculty meetings, daily chapel, morning announcements, theater productions, fundraisers, and free dress days. 

I first wrote about my husband’s prophetic gift in (Extra) Ordinary Time, Ponderings of a Catholic School Principal, which I self-published in 2013. That short book of essays within essays was a compilation of experiences I gathered as an elementary principal. Before I ever became an educator, I was a journalist. Compelled to document the stories richly born in the classrooms and hallways, I began then what I continue to do now – write, not for publication in a newspaper, but for our weekly school newsletter aimed at offering students and parents a glimpse into the everyday happenings in school. When I was “promoted” to high school, I knew I had to continue this practice, so I created my own newsletter, the Wolf Prints, where my audience has now expanded to nearly 500 readers ranging from freshmen to school benefactors and personal friends who allow me the privilege of sharing my high school Principal’s Ponderings with them each week. 

In 2015, I proudly handed out diplomas to the first group of students who entered St. Augustine when I did. While I still have not graduated, I am planning for the next chapter in my own life. Will that be retirement or a slight turn into a new area of my career? What I am sure of is that it is time for me to gather my stories of this decade and create the next edition. I have always loved the rhythm of our church calendar – a journey that takes us from the ordinary to the extraordinary each and every year. 

So here goes… Still (Extra) Ordinary, Ponderings of a Catholic High School Principal. I share these experiences not because they belong to me, but because I have discovered that most educators tell the same stories from different vantage points. My desert landscape is someone else’s city street, my school Mass might take place in a gym and another’s in a chapel, my electronic textbook is another’s torn paperback. Just as our God gives us the same sun which rises just after the alarm clock buzzes each morning, our collective words gather to become the gift of stories that we most certainly must unwrap and share with one another.

A Note to Anyone Reading This:

My first and still only book,(Extra) Ordinary, “Ponderings of a Catholic School Principal,began in Ordinary Time” – in August when the academic year begins. Since I am doing things a little differently this time by “drafting” my next book through a blog, my goal is to post an update each week with a short essay and a Principal’s Pondering. If I don’t start now (during Lent), I am afraid I will never begin! Eventually, it will be August again, and then I can rearrange everything into a true draft of a “real book” once I catch up next year.