Tag: family

Our Mom’s Choice Gold Award

Barbara Gruener

I find it so serendipitous that our book earned a Mom’s Choice Gold Award on what would have been my mom’s 88th birthday. Sigh. If only I could share that news with her.

We are honored, grateful, and excited to be endorsed by the MCA family.

After returning to TX from WI, this week included visits with 10 classes to read the book and talk about the writing process with budding authors and illustrators in grades four and five at Bales Intermediate.

The visits all began by talking about selecting a theme – mine is empathy! – and jazzing it up a little with this poem I wrote using the hand-jive motions. Then we talk about choosing a topic, and I share the back story of the unfinished slippers that we found in my grandma Larsen’s closet at her passing, and how, some 15 years later, I was able to finish them and give them to my mom for her stay in the assisted living home.

After reading the story aloud with the illustrations projected on the big screen, I take questions and comments from our listening audience. How it makes my soul sing to hear their feelings, thoughts, and reflections about the text and McKenna’s heartfelt artwork. One young man told me that he noticed I used a lot of literary elements; another asked for my autograph.

In a fun twist, my illustrator was their Art teachers in the primary grades, so they already love her and know so much about using color to convey emotions and mood.

At the end, the most thoughtful thing happened: Mrs. Dixon presented me with a plate of Monster Cookies, from the recipe that she found in the back of the book.

It touched my heart so profoundly that she would not only bake for us, but make Gramma Emma’s cookies. She’s walking the talk as she gives empathy, compassion, and kindness wings.

One last shot from a school visit that has imprinted itself on my heart …

… my wish for you, dear reader, is that you will forever be able to find and feel this kind of unbridled joy.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Barbara Gruener

So today I’m thinking about my name, in part because of the message on my Starbucks cup yesterday. First and foremost, it’s a sweet compliment, for sure. I love my SB baristas and we have such a playful relationship as I frequent the place. Being there actually feels a bit like the 1980’s television sitcom Cheers, when Norm walks through the doors and they all yell, “Norm!“

The magic of those moments made Norm feel like he belonged there, on that same bar stool, where he was among friends! It’s kind of like that when I go to my local Starbucks.

So it makes me feel really special when they write on my cup, a small gesture, I know, but a tiny thing that feels big to me, and I’m grateful.

Now, here’s where the conflict comes in. You know what a barb is, right? I looked it up and capture a screen shot, so we can see why Barb isn’t my first choice.

I touch on it in Birdie & Mipps, when Mipps asks if Birdie is a nickname for Barbara.

To be fair, it is a common practice in Wisconsin (perhaps all of the midwest?) to shorten names; in my family of origin Timothy became Tim, Barbara was Barb and Debra went by Deb. That’s just how it was, really until I moved to Texas and my mentor Cynthia called me Barbara. It sounded so elegant, so Southern, so fancy when she’d say it, and for the first time in almost three decades, I liked the sound of my name, which didn’t sound like a barb on a fence when Cynthia said it.

So, in my 30s, I changed it back to Barbara. But close family and friends, especially those from back home, still call me Barb and that’s endearing, but when I meet someone new, I don’t care to be known as Barb.

Monikers matter, so if you meet a Barbara, instead of dropping three letters from her name, ask her first if she goes by Barbara, Barb, Barbie or something else. It’ll honor her in ways you may not be able to imagine, until you get the backstory.

It just feels good to hang out with people who know your {preferred} name.

Dear {Younger} Me

Barbara Gruener

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a writer. My earliest memory is that my first-and-second grade teacher, Miss Natzke, used writing as a behavior-management strategy, to get me to quit interrupting her. Writing is, after all, just talking on paper. And I’m still so grateful.

I’ve got diaries that date back to elementary school and countless letters from coveted pen-pal friendships. Not only was writing a vehicle to whisk me away off of the family farm to the outside world, but it became a therapeutic resource for my personal and professional reflection and growth.

Today, my heart remembers my colleague Jim Fazen, the English teacher who mentored me in my first year out of college, forty years ago. I only stayed at that school one year, but we stayed friends (and Pen Pals) for four decades, until his passing earlier this year. As I think through the things I wish I’d have known all those years ago as a newbie educator under Jim’s tutelage, I’ve decided to update a Dear-Me letter I first drafted a dozen years ago.

Dear Me {Version 2.3},

Congratulations on becoming a teacher; what excitement and pride you must feel at the prospect of positively nourishing and nurturing, stretching and shaping the hearts and minds of our future even as you help them acquire English and Spanish skills.

As you start out, think about what you want former students to say about you at your retirement party and spend your days doing exactly that. Maybe it’ll be something like “She always smiled at us!” or “I love the way she made us feel.” Make those things a part of your daily routine. Be intentional. Make sure that people who cross your path know that they matter to you, because in the end, what will matter most are the connections and relationships that you’ve made and helped foster. They might even say something like this: I want to be just like you when I grow up. Crazy, right? True story: They are always watching you. Be the role model they need.

Find a mentor to walk alongside you and be a sounding board as you make your way into the world as a hope-dealer. Be a lifelong learner. Ask questions, lots of them, even when your counseling mentor says “I didn’t take you to raise.” Don’t take that too seriously; she really does love helping you be your best self. Soak in the wisdom of those who have gone before you. Then, when you’re ready, return the favor and be the mentor. Resist the urge to go it alone; there’s so much more strength in collaboration. Don’t forget that you have to teach people how to treat you. Make sure to do whatever it takes to advocate for yourself and communicate your needs.

Celebrate who your students are, each one special, each one unique. Work to individualize and differentiate to help them become who they’re meant to be. Give them ownership of their learning by turning some stuff over to them.  Ask yourself: Are my lessons for me or for them?  Where can I let go of the reigns? How can I foster voice and choice as I equip and empower them? Help them become the kind of leader they would follow, then get out of their way and trust them enough to let them lead.

Get to know your colleagues and their backstories. Listen to understand. Don’t shy away from courageous conversations; it’ll show people that you’re invested and that you care. Sometimes you’ll have to agree to disagree. Confront problems but carefront people.  Pick your battles and don’t sweat the small stuff. Trust me; you’ll need your energy for the big stuff.

Reach out to parents and community stakeholders. Invite them to be a part of your school family. Place day-maker phone calls so that they know how excited you are that their child is in your class and what you love about them. Do your level best to see your students through their caregivers’ eyes. Look for ways to make each one your favorite. Sometimes that’ll seem so easy; other times you won’t think there’s anything that could possibly make that child your favorite. Keep looking. Go deeper. Mine for it. It’ll be worth it; you’ll see. They are working in progress, diamonds in the rough. Help polish them until they know they have what it takes to shine like the sun. Even when it’s dark. Especially when it’s dark. 

Let go of your perfectionistic, people-pleasing tendencies and accept that there will be people who don’t like you and times when you’re going to mess up. It’ s okay. Apologize and forgive willingly. Lavish grace on yourself and others, then celebrate those mistakes as learning opportunities. Stay vulnerable and keep a growth mindset. There’s no obstacle you can’t overcome and no achievement that you can’t accomplish.

Show empathy, compassion and kindness to each and every learner. Step into their stories and be there with them. Sometimes that’ll be easy; other times it’ll be a really sad, sorrowful journey to take, over incredibly rocky terrain, in some shoes battered by trauma, grief and loss. That’s why it’ll be important, really important, that you connect with them, feel with them, help them heal. Then, at the end of the day on those really difficult days, make sure to physically and emotionally close every door between school and home so that their pain doesn’t follow you to the house.

Be passionate about your purpose and enthusiastic about your calling. Work hard to make things fun and engaging for yourself, your students and your school family, but don’t say yes to every opportunity that comes your way. You get about sixteen hours a day and it’s up to you to use that time wisely. Eat healthy foods, get a good night’s sleep, and exercise routinely so you have the physical and emotional stamina to go the distance. Feeding your spiritual side is also critical; consider guided imagery, body scans, nature walks, prayer or yoga stretches.

You cannot serve from an empty vessel, so take good care of yourself, mind, body, heart and soul.

Strive for personal best. Show up on time and be prepared. Dream big but be willing to take baby steps to get there. Patience always pays off. Make it a point to be in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. When you don’t know what that is, ask. Surround yourself with people of good character and they’ll always be there to help you when you get stuck.

Start every day with gratitude and end it satisfied that who you are and what you accomplished is more than enough. Use a mindfulness mantra as a daily touchstone: I’ve done enough. I have enough. I am enough. Keep a gratitude journal and write notes telling people that you’re thankful for them and explaining why. Make thankfulness a verb.

Live generously. Volunteer, serve, and donate. You’ll end up bountifully blessed in ways that you can’t even imagine right now. Savor every minute of these first few years and make the most of this amazing opportunity. Enjoy being the hero that you needed as a child and keep on crusading for good. Above all, your students will remember how they felt when they were in your presence. Light up for them; it’s a gift that will stay with them long after they’re no longer in your class family (even though they will always be yours!).

Finally, keep on singing, dancing, laughing, and praying your way through life. Time is non-refundable and life is too short to not live it wholeheartedly and with unbridled energy and love.

Be blessed as you bless,

Barbara {Version 6.3}

Birdie & Mipps’ Mom

Barbara Gruener

Our beautiful mom, Marilyn, died peacefully last Sunday after a five-year battle with dementia. She would have turned 87 next month.

The quintessential, modern-day Florence Nightingale, our mom served as a nurse in our community for 25 years during her younger years, first in the newborn nursery, then in hospice. We heard so many times how tenderly she’d given this baby its first bath, how patiently she’d pierced this girl’s ears, how compassionately she’d held that man’s hand through his passing and how lovingly she’d comforted the bereaved family.

She had five of her own children and seven foster children over the years, so our dinner table was always filled to capacity. The most beautiful thing happened the day after she died: One of our foster sisters from some 60 years ago actually reached out to offer to help pay for mom’s funeral expenses. How long do connection, compassion and kindness last? Sometimes a lifetime.

I was in the air, flying home to hold her hand and say goodbye, when she took her last breath. I like to think that I felt her essence as we hovered over the clouds and I’m pretty sure I got a soul hug from her on her way to her heavenly home.

You can read her obituary {here}; I was honored to have just written my mother-in-law’s obituary in August and I hope not to have to write another one for a while.

I found this treasure in her things while we were cleaning out her room; I remember it well because it was our first time to stay in a hotel, in Janesville, WI, because Dad and Mom were Easter Seals Ambassadors and we all went to their annual convention that year.

We will miss Mom like crazy, but we are grateful that she’s no longer feeling so lost and confused. Here’s a precious snapshot from July, when I got to read our story to her.

So I’ve spent the week in the farmhouse where she raised me, in the bedroom where she’d tuck me in at night. It’s very therapeutic as I relax and reflect.

This morning, I got the gift of this Midwest Book Review in my inbox. It’s from Suzie Housley, a thirty-year reviewer, who told me she found the cover inviting and the story excellent. And I’m grateful.

Have you read Birdie & Mipps yet? If so, what was your favorite part?

Together Is My Favorite Place

Barbara Gruener

After a long day of travel yesterday, I’m back home and reflecting on an incredible journey home. First up, a visit to my mom, to read Birdie & Mipps to her. Since she’s battling dementia, I wasn’t sure how it would go and as I reflect, I deeply felt the depth and width of her words: I don’t know why but this is making me feel really sad.

I explained to her that it was really sad, that Mipps is her little boy, and that he’d died a few years ago, but that it was also happy because a part of his story is now in our book, and that’s when she said, “Well, I’d really like to have a book like this.” Sigh.

And in that moment, I realized how important it was to always carry an extra copy.

Next up, off to visit my Aunt Elaine, who just turned 91. Since our youngest son, Joshua, and his wife, Ariana, were with us, I asked them to read the book aloud in the roles of Birdie & Mipps.

Here’s a snippet of them reading one of my favorite pages. What’s your favorite page?

Then, my mom got to meet her great granddaughter, a precious moment indeed.

What joy fills my heart to be together in this four-generation picture.

And finally, the reason for our trek home: To gather for Tanner and Callie’s big day. So blessed to stand with Tanner’s other two Godmothers in this shot.

Mipps was represented at the memorial table; Tanner wrote such a beautiful tribute.

In our family picture, Jacob is wearing Mipps’ jacket and one of his ties; Joshua is sporting one of his ties as well. Our Dad made this beautiful cross centerpiece for the wedding ceremony.

Together truly is my favorite place to be.