Who Deserves the $10 Bill: Part 4

(Check out Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3)

The first three parts in this series evaluated the merits of Rosa Parks,
Susan B. Anthony, and Clara Barton. Now it's time to judge Chris Christie's suggestion for the woman who deserves to be featured on the $10 bill, Abigail Adams.

Remember, to be considered, each candidate must be:

1. Dead
2. Female
3. American

Candidates will then be judged in the following 4 categories:

1. Popularity Index: name recognition
2. Symbolic Value Index: status as an icon or symbol for a movement or cause
3. Achievement Index: overall contribution to "our inclusive democracy”
4. Irreplaceability Index: unlikeliness that another person could have made that same societal contribution

In each of these categories, candidates will be rated on a scale from 1-10, and the scores from all four categories will then be added together to declare a winner.

Here's how the first three candidates scored:

1. Susan B. Anthony—32/40
2. Rosa Parks—30/40
3. Clara Barton—29/40

How does Adams compare?

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Abigail Adams

Basic Bio:
Abigail Adams (1744-1818) was a female activist and abolitionist who provided counsel to her husband, second president John Adams. Abigail’s wit, intelligence, and passion are evident throughout their extensive written correspondence.



Popularity Index: 8/10
Though they may be unaware of the extent of her influence on her husband, most have heard of the former first lady. If you were raised in New England (like me), you have heard A LOT about her.

Symbolic Value Index: 6/10
When the First Lady is seen as an equal partner in her marriage, the ripple effect is felt throughout the country. The couple’s letters showcase the deep respect President Adams felt for his wife, not just for her role as a mother to their five children, but as an intelligent political mind. She set the standard for future first ladies such as Eleanor Roosevelt.

Achievement Index: 5/10
It’s difficult to quantify the effect Adams had on her husband’s politics, but she was labeled “Mrs. President” by critics who felt she was over-involved in his job. Some may discount Adams because her national influence was largely dependent upon her powerful husband, but she should be recognized as an intelligent and resourceful woman who took advantage of her position at a time when few women were given a voice.

Although she had no formal education, she was an avid reader who was well-versed in politics, literature, and the like, and much of her success stemmed from the grand legacy of her writings, in which she advocated for equal public education for women, female property rights, and the abolition of slavery.

In a letter largely recognized as the first major step in the women’s suffrage movement, she urged her husband to “remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If perticuliar care and attention is not paid to the Laidies we are determined to foment a Rebelion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice, or Representation.”

Later she wrote to him, “If you complain of neglect of Education in sons, What shall I say with regard to daughters, who every day experience the want of it . . . If we mean to have Heroes, Statesmen and Philosophers, we should have learned women.”

Also, her role as mother should not be overlooked: She raised five children, including our sixth president, John Quincy Adams.

However, Adams did not establish any schools or serve as president of any major organizations. She did not run her own newspaper or brave the frontlines of a war. As much as I love Adams (we’re both from Weymouth, MA) and admire the relationship she had with her husband, her list of actual accomplishments is relatively short.

Irreplaceability Index: 7/10
At the risk of sounding antifeminist, I must admit that most of Adams’ irreplaceability comes from her marriage to a man with political power and an attitude toward women that was far beyond his time. However, at a time when the most powerful role a woman could have was to be married to a man of prestige, Adams earned the intellectual respect of her husband and used her advantageous position to advocate for the rights of women, children, and African-Americans.

Final score: 26/40

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After thorough evaluations of the four (famous American) women listed by the Republican candidates, Susan B. Anthony came out ahead with a score of 32/40. So does she deserve to be on the $10 bill? Does Rosa Parks, Clara Barton, or Abigail Adams? Or another woman such as Harriet Tubman, Amelia Earhart, or Harriet Beecher Stowe? Let me know who you think should grace the $10 bill.

Who Deserves the $10 Bill: Part 3

(In case you missed them, check out Part 1 and Part 2.)

Welcome to Part 3 of our mission to choose the best woman for the $10 bill!

Again, to be considered, each candidate must be:

1. Dead
2. Female
3. American

Candidates will then be judged in the following 4 categories:

1. Popularity Index: name recognition
2. Symbolic Value Index: status as an icon or symbol for a movement or cause
3. Achievement Index: overall contribution to "our inclusive democracy”
4. Irreplaceability Index: unlikeliness that another person could have made that same societal contribution

In each of these categories, candidates will be rated on a scale from 1-10, and the scores from all four categories will then be added together to declare a winner.

Rosa Parks and Susan B. Anthony have already been evaluated. Now it's time to put Scott Walker's choice to the task. (Here's to hoping she fares better in her campaign than Walker did in his).

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Clara Barton

Basic Bio:
Clarissa "Clara" Harlowe Barton (1821-1912) founded the American Red Cross in 1881. Prior to that, she worked as a teacher, patent clerk, and field nurse in the Civil War.






Popularity Index: 6/10
Barton’s name is easily recognized by anyone familiar with American history textbooks, but—as with Anthony—most people probably couldn’t tell you much about her.

Was she a suffragist? An author? Did she make the American flag? 

(That was Betsy Ross, of course). 

Symbolic Value Index: 7/10
Known for her courage and compassion, Barton is the leading icon of volunteerism. The American Red Cross carries on her dedication to public service as it continues to provide relief to those in need. The organization's website states, “Barton’s legacy to the nation—service to humanity—is reflected in the services provided daily by the employees and volunteers of the American Red Cross throughout the nation and in troubled spots around the world.”

Achievement Index: 9/10
Barton served as a teacher for over a decade, established New Jersey’s first free public school, and became the first woman employed by the federal government. During the Civil War, she served soldiers by bringing supplies, writing letters, and praying with them. In 1862, she gained permission to head to the front lines. Known as the “Angel of the Battlefield,” she fearlessly served men injured in the war, writing, “I always tried . . . to succor the wounded until medical aid and supplies could come up—I could run the risk; it made no difference to anyone if I were shot or taken prisoner.”

After the war, she founded the Office of Correspondence with Friends of the Missing Men of the United States Army, for which she helped to locate over 22,000 missing soldiers. She also identified almost 13,000 graves of Union soldiers who had died in Georgia’s Andersonville Prison.

She founded the American branch of the International Red Cross in 1881, serving as the organization’s president until 1905. According to its website, the American Red Cross annually helps 150,000 military families, responds to nearly 70,000 disasters in the U.S., provides more than 40% of America’s blood supply, and offers health and safety training to over nine million Americans. Its 13 million volunteers work in 187 countries.

Irreplaceability Index: 7/10
From a young age, Barton was able to relate to boys and gain their respect with her athleticism, paving the way for her to become the first female employee in the federal government. She enjoyed equal pay, too—at least until the administration of James Buchanan eliminated her position because of opposition to female government workers (re: sexism).

She also learned basic nursing techniques while caring for her brother as a child, which allowed her to provide medical aid during the Civil War.

Barton—who studied writing and languages at the Clinton Liberal Institute of New York—was a brilliant writer and charismatic speaker known to bring audience members to tears. She used her linguistic talents to garner support for her various causes.

Few possessed her combination of charisma, intelligence, medical knowledge, grit, and compassion, making her uniquely fit to challenge gender roles, serve on the front lines, and establish the world’s biggest volunteer organization.

Final score: 29/40

Check out Part 4 tomorrow to see how Abigail Adams fares.

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Who Deserves the $10 Bill: Part 2

(Click here for Part 1.)

Welcome to Part 3 of our quest to choose which woman should be featured on the $10 bill. Since the Republican presidential candidates struggled with this question during the second GOP debate, here's a brief recap of the judging criteria detailed in Part 1:

A. To be considered, each candidate must be:

1. Dead
2. Female
3. American B. Candidates will then be judged in the following 4 categories:

1. Popularity Index: name recognition
2. Symbolic Value Index: status as an icon or symbol for a movement or cause
3. Achievement Index: overall contribution to "our inclusive democracy”
4. Irreplaceability Index: unlikeliness that another person could have made that same societal contribution

In each of these categories, candidates will be rated on a scale from 1-10, and the scores from all four categories will then be added together to declare a winner.

We already graded Rosa Parks; now it's time to rate Rand Paul's choice.

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Susan B. Anthony

Basic Bio:
Susan B. Anthony (1820-1906) was a prominent suffragist and abolitionist who was arrested for voting in 1872. She co-founded and presided over the National American Woman Suffrage Association, helped create the International Council of Women, and served as the New York Stage agent for the American Anti-Slavery Society.


Popularity Index: 8/10
Most people born and schooled in the United States have heard of Anthony; however, many Americans could not tell you what, exactly, she did, as she is often confused with other prominent white women, such as Clara Barton, Betsy Ross, Lucy Stone, and her good friend Elizabeth Cady Stanton.

Most Americans know Anthony, but aren’t entirely sure why.

Symbolic Value Index: 8/10
Anthony is one of two women to have appeared on US currency—Sacagawea is the other—but the commemorative coin was only in production for about a year. (The Treasury originally wanted to put the Statue of Liberty on the coin, a suggestion which—rightfully so—did not go over well with women). Since the US Treasury is seeking to salute the 100th anniversary of female suffrage, putting the movement’s biggest star on the $10 bill would certainly make sense.

Women’s suffrage can hardly be talked about without mentioning Anthony, the movement’s unquestioned pioneer: After all, the Nineteenth Amendment, which granted women the right to vote, is also known as the Susan B. Anthony Amendment. But whereas Parks is the unparalleled female icon of the Civil Rights Movement, Anthony shares her icon status with fellow suffragists such as Stanton and Stone.

Achievement Index: 10/10
Anthony was an ardent supporter of both abolition and women’s suffrage, and it’s difficult to overstate her many achievements.

As an agent for the American Anti-Slavery Society, she organized meetings and circulated abolitionist pamphlets. She co-founded the Women’s National Loyal League to petition for the 13th Amendment and published her own newspaper, The Revolution, in which she highlighted lynchings and other racist acts. After the Civil War and the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment —which abolished slavery—she turned her attention to women’s rights. She traveled the nation speaking and passing out leaflets, and she appeared before every congress from 1869 until her death in 1906—that’s over 35 years—to ask that women gain the right to vote. She served as president of the National American Woman Suffrage Association and the International Woman Suffrage Alliance, and spearheaded the World’s Congress of Representative Women at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair.

Anthony fought for women’s rights beyond suffrage, too. She campaigned for female educational opportunities, battled for a woman’s right to own property, demanded equal pay for women, and served as the founding president of the Workingwomen’s Central Association. With large thanks to her, the New York State Married Women’s Property Bill allowed married women to own property, make their own money, and take custody of their children.

She also called for an eight-hour workday and co-founded the Women’s New York State Temperance Society.

Anthony said in 1894, “We shall someday be heeded, and when we shall have our amendment to the Constitution of the United States, everybody will think it was always so, just exactly as many young people think that all the privileges, all the freedom, all the enjoyments which woman now possesses always were hers. They have no idea of how every single inch of ground that she stands upon today has been gained by the hard work of some little handful of women of the past.”

Irreplaceability Index: 6/10
As discussed earlier, Anthony was not alone in her efforts, working alongside Stanton for most of her career as an activist. But though other women (and men) joined in her crusades, none had more success than Anthony.

In Century of Struggle: The Woman’s Rights Movement in the United States, Eleanor Flexner wrote, “If Lucretia Mott typified the moral force of the movement, if Lucy Stone was its most gifted orator and Mrs. Stanton its most outstanding philosopher, Susan Anthony was its incomparable organizer, who gave it force and direction for half a century.”

Anthony was born to a Quaker father who encouraged all of his children—sons and daughters alike—to be strong and self-supporting. She was a persuasive writer who published her own newspaper and a fearless fighter who forced others to hear her voice. Others may have taken her place, but her fighter’s mentality could not be easily replicated.

Final score: 32/40


Check Part 3 to see Clara Barton's score.

Who Deserves the $10 Bill: Part 1

Toward the end of the September 16 GOP presidential debate, Republican candidates were asked a simple question:

“What woman would you like to see on the $10 bill?”¹

Referring to the Treasury’s plan to put a female face on non-commemorative U.S. currency, the question was an easy chance for a party headlined by Donald Trump—who has been accused of making sexist remarks— to gain favor with women. After all, women have made up the majority of voters in the past nine presidential elections.

Essentially, moderator Jake Tapper threw the party a 70 mph fastball right down the middle—and the majority of the candidates didn't even offer up a real swing.

Of the eleven candidates asked that question, three chose family members,² two listed non-Americans,³ and one—Carly Fiorina—refused to answer. Not exactly a great showing from a party already struggling with female voters.⁴

The American women actually chosen? Rosa Parks (three times), Susan B. Anthony, Clara Barton, and Abigail Adams. Much has been said about the GOP’s failure to name more than four deserving American women, but those four are at least reasonable options.

Ted Cruz also deserves credit for arguing that instead of joining first Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton on the $10 bill, the chosen woman should land on the $20 bill as the replacement for Andrew Jackson, who dismantled the United States Bank and enforced the Indian Removal Act (colloquially known as The Trail of Tears).

Still, though, the question remains: Which woman should be placed on the $10 bill?

To find out, we must first look at the criteria established for the preexisting faces gracing US money: According to the Department of the Treasury, “the portraits on our currency notes are of deceased persons whose places in history the American people know well.”

So, to appear on US currency, one must be:

1. Dead
2. Well-known to Americans

By those standards, Al Capone and Charles Manson could have their mugshots adorning our money, and even Michael Jackson fits the bill (pun intended).

Since we clearly need to be a bit more specific, the following qualifications must be met in order for a candidate to be considered as our next monetary star:

1. Dead
2. Woman
3. American

It’s easy to see if those qualifications are met—cryonics, gender assignment, and Donald Trump’s denial notwithstanding. But the Treasury also announced they are looking for a woman “who was a champion for our inclusive democracy,” so candidates will be judged in the following four categories:

1. Popularity Index: name recognition
2. Symbolic Value Index: status as an icon or symbol for a movement or cause
3. Achievement Index: overall contribution to "our inclusive democracy”
4. Irreplaceability Index: unlikeliness that another person could have made that same societal contribution

In each of these categories, candidates will be rated on a scale from 1-10, and the scores from all four categories will then be added together to declare a winner.

A celebrity like Oprah would have a popularity index of 10, whereas Douglas J. Pattison would receive a score of 1. Who is Pattison? He’s the CFO of Oprah’s company, Harpo Productions, but I didn’t know that until I Googled “Who runs Oprah’s company?” Point proven.

Jackie Robinson would have a symbolic value index of 10 because he is the leading icon of the movement to integrate professional sports. William Edward White would have a symbolic value index of 1—despite actually being the first black man to play major league baseball—because he is not widely recognized as a symbol of the movement.

Apple cofounder Steve Jobs would have an achievement index of 10, while Kim Kardashian would have a score closer to negative 13 because her biggest contributions to society have been the “duckface" and a baby whose name belongs on a compass.

Finally, Martin Luther King, Jr. would have an irreplaceability index of 10 because it is highly unlikely that someone else could have come along with the same set of traits required to successfully lead the Civil Rights Movement.⁵ However, my great-uncle—who was honored for his bravery in World War II—would score low in irreplaceability because there were, presumably, thousands of others who also would have jumped on that bomb if given the chance. Both of these men were heroic, but there is a much lower chance that another individual could have taken Dr. King’s place than that of my great-uncle. Dr. King, therefore, is more irreplaceable.

It’s important to note that “irreplaceability” is not synonymous with “significance.”

(In her hit song “Irreplaceable,” Beyonce sings, “I can have another you by tomorrow, so don't you ever for a second get to thinking [that] you're irreplaceable.” Though I’m not saying an award-winning soldier is an everyday commodity, this song captures the basic idea of him being more easily replaced than a once-in-a-generation leader like Dr. King.)

Okay, without further ado, let's begin with the first of the four women listed by the GOP candidates:

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Rosa Parks

Basic Bio:
Rosa Parks (1913-2005) was an African-American woman whose refusal to give up her seat ignited the 1955 Montgomery Bus Boycott and brought her prominence as a civil rights activist.

Popularity Index: 10/10
Parks is the only woman on this list who can realistically be labeled a household name. After her arrest, she became one of the most recognizable figures of the 20th century.


Symbolic Value Index: 10/10
Thanks to her leading role in the Montgomery Bus Boycott, Parks has become a symbol of peaceful protests and, after Dr. King, she is perhaps the most iconic figure of the Civil Rights Movement. She represents not only the struggle of black women in America, but also their significant role in ending the racist idea of “separate but equal.”

In 1999, the U.S. Congress honored Parks as the “first lady of civil rights” and the “mother of the freedom movement.”

No woman on this list possesses more symbolic value than Parks.

Achievement Index: 6/10
In a 2012 CNN article, historian Danielle McGuire argues that “it’s time to free Rosa Parks from the bus.” McGuire explains that before Parks’ arrest, the civil rights icon served as secretary of the Montgomery chapter of the NAACP. In that role, she investigated the gang rape of a black woman named Recy Taylor and organized a committee in the victim’s honor, which the Chicago Defender called “the strongest campaign for equal justice to be seen in a decade.”

After her arrest, Parks continued to fight for the rights of the black community: She supported the Selma march, was active in the struggle to end housing segregation, co-founded the Rosa L. Park Scholarship Foundation and the Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self Development, and was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

But this is where it gets tricky: We’ve just established that Parks is a) the most well-known figure on this list, and b) a leading member of the Civil Rights Movement. But it’s difficult to siphon out her achievements from those of the movement in general; essentially, despite her long list of honors and awards, it’s nearly impossible to determine what percent of the movement’s success actually belongs to her.

Irreplaceability Index: 4/10
On the night of Parks’ arrest, the Women’s Political Council circulated a letter throughout the local black community, writing that “the next time it may be you, or your daughter, or your mother.”

The letter continued, “We are, therefore, asking every Negro to stay off the buses Monday in protest of the arrest and trial.” This was the start of the Montgomery Bus Boycott, of which Parks was more an instrument than an organizer.

Parks was not the only, or even the first, woman to boldly refuse to give up her seat; there were, unfortunately, many prior cases of black women (such as Mary Louise Smith) being arrested and/or beaten for simply remaining seated. In their book This Day in Civil Rights History, authors Randall Williams and Ben Beard write that “. . . African American riders were often involved in incidents on the buses. For various reasons, none before Parks became the rallying point for the mass boycott of buses.”⁶

Among those “various reasons” is the fact that the NAACP saw Parks as the ideal candidate⁷ on which to center the movement: She was a married, employed, well-educated,⁸ and respected member of the organization. Dr. King described her as "one of the finest citizens of Montgomery—not one of the finest Negro citizens—but one of the finest citizens of Montgomery.”

Parks showed extreme discipline, resilience, and courage, but so had many other black women before and after.Although she was seen as the best choice, it is difficult to imagine that—had she not remained seated that day—another woman would not have stepped in to take her place.


Final score: 30/40

Check Part 2 and Part 3 to check out the grades for Susan B. Anthony and Clara Barton, respectively.

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1 To hear the candidates’ full answers, check out the GOP debate transcript.^↩
2 Mike Huckabee, Ben Carson, and Donald Trump chose their wife, mother, and daughter, respectively, in apparent efforts to win over the GOP faction that’s hoping for the Nicholas Sparks version of a president. (Trump also chose Rosa Parks, since she and Ivanka Trump are apparently of similar cultural significance.)^↩
3 Jeb Bush chose former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, while John Kasich chose Mother Theresa, who was born in Albania.^↩
4 However, Fiorina’s non-answer was the perfect response: “I think, honestly, it's a gesture,” she said. “I don't think it helps to change our history. What I would think is that we ought to recognize that women are not a special interest group. Women are the majority of this nation.”^↩
5 Speaking of Dr. King: As one of the most influential people in U.S. history, why is he not already depicted on our currency? It’s pretty difficult to think of a more deserving candidate.^↩
6 Click here to check out more of This Day in Civil Rights History.^↩
7 According to the New York Times,“ They had begun to build a case around a 15-year-old girl's arrest for refusing to give up her seat, and Mrs. Parks had been among those raising money for the girl's defense. But when they learned that the girl was pregnant, they decided that she was an unsuitable symbol for their cause.”^↩
8 Parks earned her high school diploma at a time when 93% of African-Americans hadn’t.^↩

Reflections of a Rookie Teacher

I recently finished my first year teaching elementary students, and I've never been so frustrated, so encouraged, so exhausted, or so thoroughly entertained.

Here are 9 lessons I learned from my students this year: 



1. Kids can be blunt.

During my first week on the job, a 2nd-grader raised her hand and told me, “Your makeup makes you look like a clown.”

Later in the semester, a first-grade girl asked, “Did you even brush your hair this morning? Because it’s sticking out all around your head.”

“Yeah . . . like a lion!” a boy piped in.

Granted, I’m sure they were right—my makeup area doesn’t have the best lighting, so getting ready in the morning is literally a shot in the dark.



2. Kids can be sweet.

Thankfully, my kids know how to boost my confidence, too. Whenever I walk down the hallway, I’m attacked by surprisingly forceful hugs and cries of “Mrs. Steelsman!” (no typo). 

On my birthday, the first-graders gave me handmade cards, most of which showed my hair sticking straight out to the side like Pippi Longstocking. And for the first time in my life, I was actually the tall stick figure. (Dreams really do come true!)

I got one card that read, "You are the best techr usr." I also received a picture of me and a student on a sinking submarine. If it was meant as a metaphor, I'd rather not know.

(Pictures at the bottom of the page!)

Another day, after a lesson on Daniel, an all-too-naive 4th grader looked up at me through his rose-colored glasses and said, “Mrs. Steelman, Daniel sounds a lot like you.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’m afraid of lions.



3. Kids can be politically-incorrect.

At the start of each class, I allow my students to say one fact about themselves—their favorite LEGO pack, what they did over vacation, how many hours of video games they played last night, etc. Because kids tend to be followers, the first student to answer usually sets the standard for the rest of the class; if she names her favorite sport, the rest of the kids name their favorite sport, too.

In one of my more diverse classes, the first student chose to share about her ethnic heritage, declaring “I’m Haitian and Irish.” And, of course, her classmates followed suit.

Student 2: “I’m Jamaican and Irish.”

Student 3: “I’m Haitian and Irish.”

Student 4: “I’m Puerto Rican and Irish.”

Student 5: “I’m from Trinidad . . . And I’m Irish.

You get the point.

We go through the whole class, each student proudly proclaiming Irish roots, until we get to the last student in the room, a quiet girl with pale skin, blue eyes, blonde hair, and freckles.

“I think I’m just Irish,” she said shyly.

The rest of her classmates stared at her in utter disbelief.

Finally, the first girl declares, “I’m sorry, honey, but you are not Irish.”

Later in the year, that same freckle-faced girl missed class two weeks in a row. I told the rest of the class that it had been so long since I last saw her, that I couldn't even remember what she looked like.

Since most of the students don't understand sarcasm, they all stared at me in complete shock and horror.

One boy shook his head angrily, exclaiming, "How could you not remember what she looks like? Just look in a mirror and you'll see her!"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Frustrated by my lack of understanding, he stood up and yelled, "You're practically twins! You both have blonde hair, white skin, and YOU'RE NOT BLACK!"



4. Kids can be surprisingly mature.

I made the mistake of trying to play Bible trivia with my first-graders. After about thirty minutes of re-explaining rules and reminding students not to repeat answers that have already been guessed (ten times . . .), I gently told them they weren't acting like very good listeners, and that maybe we'd have to save the game for next year, when they were a little older.

As soon as I finished talking, one of the boys stood up and said, "Mrs. Steelsman, thank you for rebuking us."

"Yes," a girl added. "We know you're only disciplining us because you love us and want us to become better people." 



5. Kids can be way off-topic.

I've always believed that school should be discussion-based because that allows students to share ideas and to be actively engaged in the material. So, early on, I tried to provide my students with plenty of opportunities to speak. I encouraged them to give answers, ask questions, and share from personal experience.

Rookie mistake.

See, teachers and students have a bit of an unspoken agreement: I call on you, and you offer up a relevant comment or question. But I've learned that most younger students simply can't handle this responsibility.

Let's say I ask, "Have you ever accomplished something that nobody else thought you could do?" These are the types of responses I'll get:

"I scored six goals in my soccer game."

"Can I please go to the bathroom?"

"I like to play soccer, too."

"I just wanted to tell you that Joey keeps bugging me."

"When are we gonna play a game?"

And each class has at least one student who tells the longest, most-detailed stories—all in one breath. 

I watched a movie on Tuesday, or Wednesday, I think it was Tuesday, and there was a dinosaur who destroyed I think it was New York City, and everybody was running from him, and there was a little boy eating ice cream, and it was mint chocolate chip, and while I was watching it my younger sister started to cry but I kept watching it because she cries about everything, and she always wants to use my iPod but I never let her...

Oh, and another thing: You can NEVER let students give prayer requests. You end up taking twenty minutes to learn about kittens, Minecraft levels, Little League games, and cuts that don't actually exist.



6. Kids can be realistic.

One of my third-graders was misbehaving a bit in class, so I half-jokingly told him, "I hope I don't have to tell your mom that you weren't a good listener today."

He just shrugged and said, "Eh, she's pretty used to it."




7. Kids can be naive.

Another day, that same boy announced that he was simply too lazy to do his work. 

"You know, it's not very good to be lazy," I said.

"I don't care. I'll just get a butler."

"How are you going to pay for a butler?"

"My mom will pay for it."

After I told him that I doubt his mom is going to pay to get him a butler his whole life, one of his classmates joined in on the conversation.

"Yeah," she said, "your mom will probably stop paying when you're, like, 25."



8. Kids can be touchy.

Early in the year, I announced to the class that my voice was weak because I wasn’t feeling well. One boy raised his hand and said, “Aww, Mrs. Steelsman, I wish I could come right up and just rub your belly to make you feel better.” I politely declined his offer, but a week later, as I was standing in my classroom talking with another teacher, I suddenly felt something touching my stomach. I turned around to find that same boy rubbing my belly from behind.

So yeah, kids can be affectionate.

In fact, my students are so affectionate that I didn’t have to initiate a single hug until March.

One of my younger students struggles with sitting still—okay, they all do, but he regularly sprints around the classroom like he’s RoadRunner, so he takes the can’t-sit-still trophy. One day, he asked me if he could color, so I handed him a piece of paper and a few colored pencils and relished the peace that came from quieting him down for a few moments. As I continued on with the lesson, he walked over to me and showed me his picture.

“I am a 0” was written in black and gray.

I took him aside and asked him what the picture meant.

“I’m a zero. I don’t have any friends and I’m not good at anything, so I’m just a zero.”

Now, I was boy-crazy as a little kid, but this was the first time a first-grader had ever broken my heart.

I opened up my arms, and he burrowed his head into my shoulder, his small body shaking with every sob. If you know me, you're probably aware that I’m terrible at consoling people; I usually give them a pat on the back and offer up an awkward attempt at a joke that falls painfully flat, ensuring that they will never again seek solace from me. So here I am with a 6-year old boy crying in my arms, and I have no idea what to do. I just want to show him that he’s loved.

I remind him that he is smart, and fast, and funny. I mention the classmates he normally plays with. I tell him how much I enjoy having him in my class. I assure him that God loves him and thinks he is wonderful.

After class, I showed his teacher the drawing and discovered that this was not the first time he had drawn/written something of this nature.

That night, I came home disappointed with myself because I had no idea how to help this kid. I didn’t know what else to do, so I began praying for him and begging God to give me wisdom.

The next week, he again asked if he could color. I said “yes” but spent the rest of the class anxious about what he would draw this time around. Toward the end of class, he came up to me and proudly handed me a colorful drawing of “Lego Batman.”

“Can you hang this up?” he asked with his huge, proud, handsome smile.

I now have a small collection of his drawings taped to my chalkboard, reminders of how wonderful he is, and reminders that every kid needs to feel loved.

So I guess the third piece of knowledge I gained is this:



9. Kids can steal your heart. 

It’s impossible not to fall in love with your students—at least when they’re as awesome as mine.



Oh, and I also learned that first-graders give the best birthday cards:

Is that heart half-empty of half-full?

This card shows a lot of careeder.

A perfectly relevant birthday question.

Okay kid, that's a false dichotomy.

We all live in a sinking submarine.

I apologize to the polar bears for the amount of hairspray this required.

No neck, no problem.

I don't think this transparent skirt is "school-appropriate."

That's some WNBA height.

Kind of personal, don't you think?

I always announce that "I am here!' before climbing onto the roof.

This kid knows the way to my heart.

 

I'm sorry, but this one is just too unrealistic: My hair never looks that great.

Learning to Laugh (at my Dad)

Note: I was going to post this on Father's Day, but I figured my dad would be confused if I was actually on time for something.

Let me tell you about my dad:

A few years ago, he went out and bought a bus. Like, you know, an actual yellow school bus. Why? Because he wanted too, that’s why. Stop asking questions.  

(Real answer: because he's insane).

Maybe someday Matt Damon will play him in We Bought a Bus, dedicated to ADHD-ers everywhere.

Actual footage of my dad out for a joyride

Last month, our youth group piled into that bus and rode to a nearby trampoline facility for a night of dodgeball, dunking, flipping, and bloody lips (it happens).


To my husband and me, spending a Friday night supervising 40+ slushie-fueled teenagers is fun ... yet brutally exhausting. As we drove home in that metallic microphone on wheels, I was counting down the minutes until I could lay down on the couch in stationary silence.

My dad? To him, the party was just beginning. One girl said she was hungry, so my dad—whose love language is junk food—decided to head to Dairy Queen for a late-night snack. After spending an hour waiting in line as everybody ordered their Blizzards, we finally made it home around 11, five hours after our journey had begun.

So yeah, that’s the kind of guy my dad is.

He’s also the kind of guy you call when you need to be driven to the airport at 4 am. Or when you need to borrow a car because yours is in the shop.

He’s the kind of guy who gives second, third, and fourth chances—who still thinks you’re awesome when everyone else has given up on you.

He’s the kind of guy you go to when you have a question about either basketball or the Bible (both of which, I think, were inspired by God).

He’s the kind of guy who hugs you, and calls you his little girl, and tells you that you look too cute when you dress up for a date. Okay, at least he’s the kind of guy who does that to me—I hope he doesn't do that to everyone else.

Written by Moses in conjunction with John Wooden.

Unless you hate generous, non-judgmental people, you can probably see that my dad is a pretty awesome guy.

But he also has his flaws.

Sometimes he says “yes!” to so many obligations that he overbooks himself and ends up letting somebody down.

Sometimes his ADHD is so bad that he tells you a long, in-depth story about what someone said about you—but then he can’t for the life of him remember who said it. Do you know how frustrating it is to hear a detailed explanation of how someone complimented/insulted you and then never hear who said it? My dad is like the door of a middle school bathroom stall, informing you that you’re either “hott” or lame, but not letting you know who thinks so. It’s terrible.

His forgetfulness has also led to many nights of a young, cellphone-less me waiting outside in the dark as the last person to be picked up after basketball practice.

My dad is too kind to intentionally hurt someone (except for the time he stabbed someone with a fork over a helping of roast beef. Who says men can’t be hangry?) but sometimes his thoughtlessness can drive me crazy.

Last month, I was in my classroom waiting for my 8th graders. Only two students came in.

“Where is everybody else?” I asked.

“Oh, they’re out to eat with your dad.”

I should explain that I teach at the same school as my dad—and that it’s the kind of school where it’s completely acceptable for teachers to take groups of students out for lunch. 

Most of the time, working with my dad is great; I love when he stops by my room to talk with me or when he gives me a hug as I walk down the hall. But it has also forced me to deal with my dad’s flaws not just as a father, but as a co-worker.

Thirty minutes later, the rest of my students walk into my class with boxes full of pizza and calzones. Apparently, they had been planning this all week but had never thought to tell me.

I scolded them a bit, but then told them it wasn’t really their fault. Their teacher should have known better.

“Are you mad at your dad?” one student asked.

“Yeah, I’m mad!”

“Are you gonna yell at him?”

“Let’s just say I’m going to have a nice, stern talk with him.”

My students could tell I was angry. The school year was ending in less than three weeks, and we were running out of time to create our 8th grade yearbook. I really needed the class time my dad had stolen from me.

Class ended ten minutes later, and I sat at my desk taking my rage out upon my poor computer keys. 
 

The brutal aftermath

My uncle stopped by to set up for his next class (Yes, my uncle teaches at the same school, too. We’re not a cult, I swear. Just cult-ish).

I told him what my dad had done, and my uncle just laughed.

“Wait—are you really surprised that your dad did that? You know what he’s like. But, come on, you have to admit he’s pretty awesome, too.”

After we traded some funny stories at my dad’s expense, my uncle left, and I began reflecting on the chapel service we had the day before.

The speaker focused on changing your perspective: You can either get mad or you can learn to laugh.

I realized that while my dad shouldn’t have stolen kids out of my class without telling me, it wasn’t that big of a deal. He was rewarding them for how hard they had worked to clean up the school earlier that week, so even if he was a little misguided, he had good intentions.

I’m too much of a pessimist sometimes. A lot of times. Maybe most of the time. I need to learn to let things slide, because I can’t spend my life freaking out about every tiny thing.

There are plenty of aspects of my dad that I’d like to change—I wish he’d eat more vegetables, watch less Fox News, and maybe, just maybe, pick up a book that wasn’t written by Tolkien. But ultimately, I know he’s a great guy.

Now, my dad also likes to talk tough. He routinely comes home with stories like this:

"I went in to talk to [insert name] and I said, 'No, YOU need to do this. This is YOUR job, and I'm sick and tired of it being put on other people.' I really told him off. I was ripping."

("Ripping" is his go-to word for angry).

The thing is, though, he never actually tells people off like this. He likes to brag about how he's always riled up and scary, but he's really just a big softy. 

Due to his unique combination of thick skin and a thick head, he's the least sensitive person I know. When people toss insults his way—either jokingly or bitterly—he never seems to care. The hate just rolls right off of him. He usually just smiles and says, "Come on, I can't believe you're all making sport of me!" 

Nothing bothers him.

I'm the opposite: I'm overly sensitive, care way too much about what people think of me, and make every situation out to be a way bigger deal than it actually is. Instead of taking the good with the bad, I need to learn to just take the good and leave the bad behind.

I need to be more like my dad: I need to learn to laugh and shrug and realize that not everything is a big deal. 

So Dad, thanks for working five or six jobs at a time, for coaching me through hundreds of games and practices over the years, and for driving me everywhere I needed to go, without complaining.

Thanks for instilling in me a love for the Bible, a love for basketball, and a love for working with kids.

Thank you for showing me that serving God is all that matters, and that everything else—honestly—is not that big of a deal.  


And now here's a meme in your honor:

"Better than X-ray vision"

No Filter: What Social Media Doesn't Show You

In my last post, I argued that your testimony is more than just your conversion story; it is a constantly-evolving narrative of what God has done and continues to do in your life. I also wrote of the need for people to share their testimonies, no matter how “boring” they might be.

Our brains are actually hardwired to respond to storytelling: When people share their experiences with us, we release Oxytocin, which increases our ability to connect to and empathize with those around us.

Stories can make us view and treat people differently. I have been unfairly critical of certain people whom I didn’t know very well, but once I actually talked with them and heard their backstories, I was able to connect with them in much more meaningful ways. 

For millennia, storytelling has been used to make sense of the world and to understand the human condition. By being honest and vulnerable, we are able to make valuable connections and forge deep relationships.

But we fake our stories every day.

 

Our social media profiles present idealized versions of ourselves, highlighting only what we want  the outside world to see.

#nofilter

My Facebook albums display weddings and vacations and holidays, not Friday nights spent grading papers and eating Cheerios. I Instagram pictures of my husband making me breakfast in bed; I’d never post a photo of the piles of dirty clothes currently taking over the apartment.

My online presence lacks honesty and vulnerability.

I like honesty, sure, but I'm not too fond of vulnerability. I don’t want people to know that I’m struggling. I don’t want them to know that I cry, that I’m anxious about the future, that I’m not perfectly content with the right-now.

I want people to think my life is all parties and smiles and breakfasts in bed. I don’t want people sniffing around my dirty laundry—I don’t want people to know that my dirty laundry even exists.

But we know that true community can’t be built around superficial social media profiles. I’m not asking for more pictures of dirty diapers and more posts about how much you hate your boss—seriously, just get a Diaper Genie and a diary—but I fear that this lack of honesty and vulnerability is too easily carried over into the real world.


See, I’m from New England: We don’t even speak to our neighbors, never mind tell them everything we’re going through. Like a good New Englander, I try to hide my personal problems from even my closest friends. My college roommate still believes that I’ve never cried—surprising, considering that I like to get in a good sob session at least once a week. But I always made sure to cry when no one else was around beacuse I didn’t want people to know that I actually had feelings.

I also spent over a decade playing point guard. As the “coach on the court,” the point guard is never supposed to show fear; even when your opponent goes on a 10-0 fourth quarter run, you have to maintain your composure. Your teammates need to be able to look at you and know that everything is okay. Showing vulnerability is not an option.

There’s something to be said for that in real life, too. In some ways, this "fakeness" can protect us from seeing how broken our world truly is.

But it can also be disheartening to feel as if you’re the only person whose life isn’t just yoga and coffee and sunrises. We need to know that other people have struggles, too.

Just an average day in the life of your Instagram rival.

If we want to build true community, we need to be willing to put ourselves out there. We need to be honest about who we are and what we are going through. We need to be vulnerable.

So, this is me without the makeup and the Instagram filters to cover up my flaws. This is me, beyond the tweets and posts and statuses that I want the world to see. 

This is me, struggles and all.

This is my real story, the one you won’t find on my Facebook page:

I’ve been a Christian for as long as I can remember. I grew up in a Jesus-loving family, went to a great church, and attended a Christian school from the time I was three years old—but it wasn’t until high school that I really began to seek Christ and take ownership of my faith.

When I was a senior in high school, one of my friends started asking me questions about the Bible, and I was giving her the “typical Christian kid” answers that sound good but often lack substance. Then she started asking harder questions—about sin, about hell, about why God created us in the first place—and I didn’t know how to answer her.

The right answers to any Sunday School question

When I got home that night, I was ashamed of myself: I had been given the perfect opportunity to share my faith with a friend and I blew it by not knowing the reasons behind my beliefs. I decided that I needed to know more about the Bible, so I began a quest to read it straight through, from Genesis to Revelation. 

As I read, I came across some challenging passages that made me question my faith, but by immersing myself in the Bible every day, my faith grew deeper. I was no longer a Christian simply because that’s how I was raised; I now had a faith of my own built on my relationship with Jesus, which was growing stronger every day.

The next summer, after my freshman year of college, I volunteered as a counselor at a Fellowship of Christian Athletes camp. During the final chapel service, something really weird happened to me. 

The gospel of Luke tells the story of a woman who loved Jesus so much that she got down on her knees and washed his feet with her hair. As the band played one of my favorite worship songs, I suddenly got the image of this woman stuck in my head; throughout the whole service, all I could do was picture her washing Jesus’ feet. I know that makes me sound crazy, but it’s the truth. That image hit me in a powerful way.

I wanted to love Jesus that much. But how? I was desperate to show my love for Him, but I couldn’t literally wash his feet with my hair.
 

How could I show Jesus how much I loved him?

This question gnawed at me for months. And then one day, as I was sitting in my college chapel, it hit me: I can show my love for Jesus by showing love to his people.

So I set up a foot-washing booth and began using my hair to wash people’s feet—for a small fee, of course. I made a lot of money that year.

This is basically what I was picturing.

Okay, I'm not that weird.

I realized that the best way to love God is to love others, and the best way to love others is to serve them. I wasn’t about  to give people Tresemme-powered foot scrubs, so I looked for other opportunities to serve. I joined the student government, I started a Bible study, I taught Sunday School, I helped out with youth group. God calls us to be servants, so that’s what I tried to be. 

That’s what I’m still trying to be.

Those who know me best are aware that I don’t naturally have a “servant’s heart.” I’d much rather be home relaxing than out doing things for other people. But right now, that’s how God is working in my life: He’s challenging me to be a servant, despite my selfish nature.

He’s also teaching me to trust in His plan. About a year ago, I graduated from college and had no idea where I was going to live or what kind of job I’d have. I’m a control freak—I am constantly writing up calendars and to-do lists—so not knowing what the future held was terrifying for me. Since then, I was lucky enough to land a teaching job and find an apartment just a block way from the school, but I still struggle with worrying about the future. My husband is heading into his final year of law school, and the uncertainty of landing a job is an ever-present stressor. This produces constant anxiety in me, but I am slowly learning to let go of the reins and trust that God knows what he’s doing—even if my husband and I don’t.

I am also learning to find my joy in Jesus.

This year was exhausting: I was working, coaching, helping out at youth group, and taking grad classes all at the same time. On top of that, I had just gotten married and was living on my own for the first time. I was overwhelmed by all of the changes being thrown at me and insecure in my ability to handle everything.

To make matters worse, most of my best friends were scattered around the world—Pennsylvania, New York, Colorado, Illinois, Indiana, Uganda, South Korea, New Zealand, and Australia—so they weren’t exactly available to lean on. Similarly, most of my husband’s friends and family were somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon, leaving the two of us to rely on each other for most of the year. 

Even though Austin and I love spending time together (he even makes washing the dishes fun, as long as he's the one doing the washing) we found ourselves craving those outside friendships that were suddenly absent from our lives. Spending so many Saturday nights with just each other left us feeling lonely, something neither of us were used to. We had to realize that while we are social beings, we can’t depend on other people to keep us happy. 

I’m thrilled that most of my friends will be around this summer, but I’m also thankful that I have been forced to find my joy in Christ, even when things seem tough.

My friends thought it was cool to travel the world without me.

Finally, I’ve been learning to relax. I have a tendency to get all worked up about things that don’t actually matter, so my new life motto is “laugh it off.” But I’ll talk more about that in my Father’s Day blog.

Those are just some small parts of my story. I know my testimony is not nearly as exciting as the Apostle Paul’s, but it’s important for me to share the story of how God is working in my life.

By allowing ourselves to be honest and vulnerable, we can break through the facades to make deep and lasting relationships.

By opening up about our struggles, we can encourage others to do the same.

Psalm 66:16:

“Come and hear, all you who fear God; let me tell you what He has done for me.”