End It

I'm not sure how many of you were aware, but today was the day to show support of End It. End It is a coalition that supports people stuck in slavery; whether that be human trafficking, forced labor, or boded labor. Today was the day to stand against it and say "no more."

As I have walked through my life post-Cambodia, things have been a lot different. I have seen things happening around me that aren't quite right, and have a stronger desire to participate in movements such as this one. I know that simply drawing a red X on my hand for one day in the yearnwon't solve any more issues than the act of sharing a page on Facebook. The real difference is made when people who were previously unaware are made aware. The real difference comes when the 23 students in my class show curiosity about the new body art or when other teachers ask what it's all about. When I'm given a platform to talk to others about real world, close to home issues...things slowly start to change.

One specific moment in Cambodia still sticks with me to this day: I remember sitting in a small room in Svay Pak talking casually with one of AIM's (Agape International Missions) lovely ladies. She was telling a few of us about her day, and it slowly turned into an educational session about sex exploitation. After quite some time of her telling us stories and fun facts (it's weird to call them "fun" facts, but they were so interesting and I can't think of a better term) she came to something that struck a cord with me. She said, "You know, about 60% of the men that come here to buy sex with children are Americans." I'll give you a minute to let that sink in.

Sunk?

Great.

Sixty percent. 60% of men that are buying children for sexual purposes and/or torture are coming from our back yard. They are our neighbors, relatives, coworkers, and business men. Friends, this is a wake up call! This cannot continue on our watch. We have real control over what is happening in places like Cambodia. If we stand together to say "NO MORE" eventually we're going to strike a cord. I remember Don Brewster putting it this way: "We could solve the issue of human trafficking TODAY if we really wanted to. You know how? We could just kill all the men." Obviously, that's not a plausible option. But in all reality, couldn't we just commit ourselves to educating them?

I took this challenge on one day in the most tangible way I knew how:



I wore this shirt all day and all night. I wore it to my nannying job, to the store, I think I even went to the bank...But the real kicker was when I got to volleyball open gym. I got onto this team with 5 grown men and myself, and played with them for about 4 months before the wedding. We got to know each other pretty well, and had a ton of fun playing the game we all loved so much. It was amazing how shocked everyone in the gym looked when I walked in sporting this shirt. Maybe I'm just un-observant, but it usually takes me a while to take in all the logos and punny lines on people's tee shirts. But it honestly felt like the whole gym hushed when I walked in wearing this. One of my teammates even said, "Well if that's not a punch in the gut, I don't know what is." It made people uncomfortable and it made them squirm. But that's exactly what it was meant to do. I wanted people to notice and recognize that what's happening around this world (and even in our own backyard) is not acceptable. I wanted them to ask questions and to be more aware. I think it's safe to say: mission accomplished.

Now it's time to continue this task. Even if you missed February 25, 2016 it's not too late to make a difference, and it's definitely not too late to check out these amazing sites to learn more about the issues. Click on the name of the organization you want to learn more about to be redirected to their home pages.

End It Movement

Agape International Missions

Together, we can end this. Join me.

An Open Letter To My Students

Room 17 kiddos,

Hey babies! Mrs. Coburn here. I just wanted to write an official letter to you explaining some things that you might not understand yet.

1. You guys are so important to me. I studied so long and hard in college to do what I do. I stayed up late and woke up early. I read books and wrote reports. I want you guys to know that I don't come to school to teach you because I have to - I come to school to teach you because I want to. This is something that is important to me, and each and every one of you holds a special place in my heart.

2.  I understand how difficult it is to see other children treated differently than you. So many of you have come to me in the past few months asking why there's a "special class for kids that are different." "Why can't they be in normal classes like ours?" Kids, you don't even know how special you all are. You have the desire to take care of everyone and see EQUITY and EQUALITY in this world. Don't ever lose that. Those students are in a different room so that they can be taken care of the very best way we know how. Their teachers love them all as much as I love you guys. The fact that you will share your PE time with them so that they feel included has made me laugh, cry, and burst with pride. You have all far exceeded my expectations. Never stop asking questions - that's what led you to your AMAZING solution!

4.  Just because I'm an adult doesn't mean I have all the answers. You all know that I didn't really know how artificial lights work - I told you that before we started our unit about it! Sometimes you ask me questions that I don't know the answer to, and then we research it together. I will continue to be honest with you when I don't know something. I never want you to think that I know everything, and I especially never want you to expect someone else to know everything. We are all learning together. Always.

5.  You all know that our number one rule is "Take care of each other." But the way I've seen you do that this year has blown my mind. I have a secret for you - I have NEVER seen a class so caring and loving as you 23 kids. You encourage the students who are having a bad day to turn it around so that I can call their parents with good news. You love on others who are crying or sad and try to understand what it is that would make them happy again. You have EMPATHY - when you see someone sad or angry about something you've experienced, you tell them your story and help them feel better. When someone falls down, I see you run to help them up and tell an adult they might need a band-aid or an ice pack.

6.  Continue doing exactly what you're doing. You are sweet, loving, compassionate, understanding, empathetic, strong, hilarious, and energetic kids. Those are qualities you should carry with you for the rest of your lives. Don't forget about all of us teachers that believe in you and want the very best for you in all things. We will ALWAYS be here for you.

7.  Kids, please know that I'm not perfect. Every day when I come to school, I tell myself exactly what I want to be that day. I want to be patient, kind, loving, understanding, calm, and organized. But come on...you all see me every day! I'm definitely not all of those things all of the time. But just like I tell you: I am not perfect. You are not perfect. But we can learn together to be better! Thank you for accepting that and allowing me the space to become a better teacher and human being.

8.  DO YOUR BEST, FORGET THE REST. Always.

I love you guys. Thank you for changing my life.

~ Mrs. Coburn


PS - Keep dreaming up these bright ideas! ;-)

In N Out -n- NCU

It's hard to believe we graduated college almost 2 years ago! NCU was the place I got my fabulous education in education. It's the place that allowed me to represent them on the volleyball court for 4 years. And it's the place I met my husband. So being able to meet up with some of our favorite faculty members at In-N-Out today was a huge blessing.

Being able to re-connect with people we haven't seen in over a year was so amazing! It was like no time had passed at all. We could talk about campus life, current jobs, and people we all know. I guess that's the beauty of going to a small university: you never really get forgotten.

I know so many people that went to a larger university and once they graduated, they were done with the whole system. I'm not even sure that would be possible with NCU. I'm Facebook friends with a ton of my professors, I met my very best friends there, and every day I have a tough day at work I think back to the encouragement I got from Brian and Viv. It's hard to believe that almost 6 years ago I went to Eugene to try out and told my parents I would NEVER go there. The rain? Yuck. Only 700 students? Ew! Tiny dorms? No way. But now, 6 years later, I can't imagine my life without NCU as a part of it. Just the other day I emailed one of the staff members asking if they would send my students some t-shirts for College Gear Fridays. And wouldn't you know it, less than a week later there they were (in a chip box....true NCU style) in my classroom.



I may not be known by the current students. My volleyball career may not mean anything now. I may not have been the bright and shining student professors will be talking about 5 years from now. But NCU changed my life...and that's good enough for me.

It makes me think of the love God has for us. Sometimes it feels like we are SO far away from Him. I often think "Does He even remember I exist? It's been so long since I talked to Him." But God will never forget me. My cousin posted this photo the other day, and it hit me like a ton of bricks (in the best way possible)



NCU is a place where I still have friends. I still keep in touch with professors, friends, and faculty members. It will always hold a dear place in my heart. But the love God has for me far surpasses anything I could fathom. I can't fall out of communication with Him because it's not in His nature to let go. It's not his style to give up. And it's not my right to turn my back on the one who gave me life (and this amazing one at that).

The adventures of Room 17

Well it's official. We're 5 1/2 months into the school year, and I'm almost through with my first year of teaching.

Let me start by saying this: I love teaching and I love first grade. Everything about it is a blessing from God. I have 23 little people in my care for 7 hours a day. I help them get set up to eat their breakfast in the mornings, I teach them all the skills they'll need to be successful in the future (or at least that's the goal!), and I hug them goodbye in the afternoons. I get to dry their tears and wipe the snot off their faces. Alright...so it's not all glamorous.

But teaching is a gift.

I remember this past summer when I first got the keys to my classroom and I would just sit in there and be still. I would thank God for giving me the opportunity to follow my passion and be a part of these kids educations. I put up posters and bulletin boards. I planned where they would put their work when they finished it and how I would deal with no name papers. I got a homework system figured out and thought up different ways I would communicate with parents throughout the year. But what's funny is I never really thought about the kids that would come through that space. I didn't think about the grueling IEP processes or the endless RTI meetings. I didn't think about what the geographic location of the school would mean. I honestly never thought about how I would take care of the kids' needs aside from the academic ones. So when I had my first day with the kids, I realized nothing would actually go the way I had planned. I had students flipping desks over and flipping each other off. Others would glue papers to their desks and slap their friends. And still others wouldn't use their voices at all; and still won't to this day. I realized very quickly that almost none of my "cookie cutter teacher things" were going to work here.

What was I going to do with these kids?

To this day I'm asking myself this question. Am I doing everything I can to support them? Am I taking good enough care? I'm trying to teach them how to read, and all they can focus on is where their next meal will come from. How can I expect them to focus on Ben and his dog named Duke when their mom is missing and they haven't had a home cooked meal in weeks? How can I expect them to respect others when they've never seen their role models show respect to anyone? How can I, in my Orange County-raised white skinned ignorance, try to understand them? I can't!

But what I can do is this: Look at them through the lens of Jesus. I can recognize that they are precious, intelligent, sweet children that need to be shown some love. I can hug them more and criticize them less. I can be more understanding and less demanding. I can value them more. Love them more. Appreciate them more. Laugh with them more.

So in the midst of all this thought, an interesting scenario took place: As we were walking back to class after lunch on this sunny Thursday afternoon, I observed my kids from the back of the line. Usually walking in line respectfully and quietly (yes...that's a humble brag!) they were off the wall crazy today. But instead of shouting out at them to "Straighten up! That's not a line...it's a blob!" I watched them...In their natural state. Joyfully skipping through the halls and talking to a friend. Grabbing the poles and swinging around them in order to catapult into the person walking in front of them. Tickling each other. And I thought: "They are a bunch of goofballs." But you know what? They're MY goofballs. And I wouldn't trade them for the world.

It's not much. Just a thought. But what could I do in the lives of these kids if I could take that thought and turn it into a new style of teaching? What could we accomplish in Room 17 if I stopped harping on reading levels and started doing emotional check-ins with each student? What kind of influence could I have in their life if I stopped worrying so much about their understanding of stupid number bonds and instead focused on how to make the learning tangible and useful?

So in the next weeks, months and years I hope to build on that thought: instead of looking at them only from the stance of an educator, what would happen if I let the lens of Jesus show me my students?

I love these goofballs, they're MY  goofballs.