Real Christmas Magic

 The Real Christmas Magic

I am so thankful for this night and all the magic it holds. Sure, there is the commercial magic of sparkly Christmas lights; perfectly wrapped packages filled with all our material hopes and desires; little kids peering out the window to catch a glimpse of Santa and his magical flying reindeer. That is some awesome Christmas magic, but not the real deal Christmas magic.

The real reason the air is a little different on Christmas Eve is because all of heaven and nature knows this is the night the greatest of all miracles took place. 

When I think about the magic of the most wonderful Christmas miracle, I am completely overwhelmed.

Just think about the common, overlooked absolute miracle of every baby being born. But that baby, that night, was miraculous in a way no one, even those "in the know," could possibly conceive.

And those people "in the know." Wow! How awesome that must have been. Think about how exciting it is when you know about something BIG; I mean HUGE, before everyone else. Your heart beats a little faster, everything is sharper, more vivid. 

Think about those shepherds hanging out in their field one night, minding their business, watching their sheep, when out of the blue and angel of the Lord appears because God himself decided they were worthy enough to know this great secret before everyone else in the entire world.

And the wise men - half a world away, worked and studied and were the first ones to break the code of the bright, new star. Just think how cool it is when you are the first one to figure something out. These men broke the greatest of all codes, and were the first to feel compelled by this baby king to leave their world behind to come and worship a new born king.

And just the image of the entire scene itself, the cold night; a virgin mother; a new baby sleeping in a lowly manager, surrounded by the animals of the field, who too must have known the magnitude of what they were witnessing; the mystical, inexplicable new star, the angels heralding the birth of a king... all of it is just so magnificent it is breath taking.

And all of it covered it the mystery of secret and the understated grandeur of something so great it doesn't need to be yelled and screamed at the top of anyone's lungs.

Yes, the shiny packages and Santa magic is fantastic, but the magic of the paradox of that simple yet grand, miraculous night over two thousand years ago is the real, bonfide Christmas magic.

It is the stuff of spine tingling, hair standing up, goose bump producing magic. I know we have all heard the story so many times it seems mundane, but on this night, the night when the air is just "a little bit different," take a moment and revel in the true Christmas magic. 

As one of my favorite Christmas hymn versus says, "Sing choirs of angels, sing in exultation. Oh sing all ye citizens of heaven above. Glory to God, glory in the highest. Oh come let us adore him. Oh come let us afore him. Oh come let us adore him, Christ the Lord."

Remember, we are the Herald angels. It is our job to sing the glory of God every day. We are to exalt Him and spread the real Christmas magic and joy throughout the world.

What greater magic is there than the power we have to share the love of God to everyone we know everywhere and remind each other and reach out to those who don't yet know the only magic anyone needs is the joy of having the love of God in your heart.

Silent night. Holy night. All is calm. All is bright. 

Merry Christmas, friends. Come, let us adore him. 

First written December 24, 2010

Mourning

 97% of the time, I am perfectly content with my life. I love wearing all the different hats I do to so many different people. Most days at 43, when I see parents exhausted chasing children, I am so thankful to be just me. I love doing what I want, when I want, for how long I want. 

But then there is that other 3% of the time. Recently someone was talking about a child being like their mom or dad, and in that random moment the 3% showed up. All of a sudden I was slapped in the face with the sadness that I will never meet a little version of me. 

I will never get to share my magical view of the world, my imagination, my love of all the fun things with my real mini. 

I will never get to pass on the wonderful lessons my parents taught me. I will never get to know what kind of parent I would be. I will never know what it is to do anything doing with the most basic purpose of being a woman. 

I fully understand I am not less of a woman for this deficit. That is not what I mean. I simply mean every now and then the 3% sneaks in and clouds up the clarity if the 97%. It’s kind of like how I heard once something like a tablespoon of moisture can create enough fog to cripple an entire city block. Yeah it’s like that. The fog lifts, but for a moment, it is impossible to see. 

So, as I lie here in the early morning hours of what I consider the most magical day of the year, I can’t get the image out of my head, an image simultaneously unclear and perfectly clear of a little brown haired girl with big brown eyes full of wonder and merriment at the excitement of Christmas tomorrow. A little girl, or boy, who will never exist, who lives somewhere deep in my soul. I will never truly understand why I didn’t get to pass on my joy to a little me, but I have to believe there is a positive reason God didn’t see fit to put a little Regina in the world. 

That is what is in my head at 12:56 am on Christmas Eve; a tad of remorse and a huge dose of resilience, and a belief in magic that will never end.

All Heart

I wrote this Facebook status in response to Ron Clark talking about how fearful he was of one of his students becoming the next hashtag.

I have been thinking this same first statement throughout the day.

I also read somewhere today that white people who do not comment don't care. I am one of those people who have not commented. I have not commented for a myriad of reasons, but none of them have nothing to do with not caring.

Mainly I am at a loss. I have no idea what to say because words really can't do anything. I have no idea what actions to take. I'm not political. I'm not an activist. What I am is a teacher. That is where I try to do my part.

I tell my kids every year on the first day of the semester that I will probably not be the best social studies teacher they will have, but most of that they can look up in a book. However, after 90 days when they leave my room I want them to be better thinkers and better people.

And over the 32 semesters I have stood in front of a classroom full of teenagers my life has been touched by young people of all different races, socioeconomic backgrounds, sexual orientation, and cultures. Each of them has taught me something. Some things I can name to you off the top of my head. Others are lessons I probably still don't know they've taught me. Because yes, they have taught me as many lessons as I have taught them.

The thought of any of them having to fear for their lives scares me so badly. As a woman, I have the tiniest bit of that fear. When the Stanford rape case was all over social media it made me feel a way none of these other things did or have. Why? Because I could easily identify with the victim.

I have been to my fair share of fraternity parties, and I remember sometimes being just a little uneasy or more aware of my surroundings because while I knew most of the guys there, I was well aware that I could easily be in a situation that could lead to awful things happening. I don't know if most people knew it at the time, but that is one of the reasons I didn't drink at these parties. I knew I needed to be alert. If I wasn't who knew what could happen.

I still feel the same way when strange men approach me in a store or on the street. My defenses go up. I become aware of my surroundings and escape routes. I worry about my girls going out now and facing these things.

The struggle black men go through when a family friend, a young, kind-hearted, intelligent, well-educated, professional black man was pulled over on the street for some made up reason of suspicion and after containing himself well during the interrogation was left in tears, humiliated on the side of the road after the police left. When I think of this guy I love like a little brother being treated like this, a father, a son, a doctor, a ray of sunshine in a dark, dark world, it makes me so angry I want to hit people. And I have taught young black men who could be interchangeable in these headlines, and when I think of them being the hashtag it is frightening.

When The Pulse shooting happened I thought of all my students, my friends, my family, who could have been in a similar establishment and have their life ended enjoying themselves on a weekend night. It made me sick to my stomach.

No, I haven't been silent because I don't care. I have been silent because I honestly don't know what to say, but I do know there is a problem. Some of it is ugly hearts. Some of it is institutional. Some of it is ignorance and denial, and some is fear.

That is why we need to open up and see the people we know and love in these stories. I was having a conversation with some friends the other day about the fact that when the story moves out the media and becomes human by involving someone you know and love, it changes the way you think.

I also read a great article that said something to the effect that when those who have been persecuted begin to be treated equally, it can feel like persecution to those who have been in the majority. This scares people. People don't want to see the ugly stuff in themselves. It makes us uncomfortable, but we all have it.

In the Broadway musical Avenue Q, there is an awesome song called, "We're all a little bit racist."  the whole show is done with puppets, so they can talk about a lot of things that may be too uncomfortable if real people were doing it. The song is so awesome because it is so true.

We are all going to have biases and issues we have to deal with, but the key is to deal with them. We all need to interact with a diverse population. Take the labels off and put the human heart in its place. When you get to the heart, none of is are really that different.

We Need to Do Better

We are playing games at the river and norbit is on. I have never seen it and am barely watching it now. However, I can tell by the way that his plus size wife is being portrayed that all it would do would piss me off even more if I watched it.

I get so tired of it being okay to make large women be the butt of the joke. They are always portrayed as gross, lazy, bossy, nasty, ugly, and pretty much plain awful.

I dream of a world where truly larger women are portrayed in movies as smart and desirable and beautiful and elegant. Plus sized women, really plus sized women, not size 10, do exist who are confident and beautiful and funny in a positive way.

It's no wonder women have the body issues we do. It isn't just about perfect photoshopped women in magazines or unrealistically proportioned Barbie dolls. It is also about how women of any size are shown in the media.

How is a larger women supposed to feel truly confident about herself when the women who look the most like her are shown as a big fat joke all the time. I mean all the time.

We are shown over and over that we aren't worthy of being seen as desirable by men. We are shown over and over that we are the ones picked up by the men who will take anyone just to have a women. We are shown as the left overs.

Even on an episode of the Big Bang theory, Raj, who is so scared of women he physically can't speak to them, hooks up with a woman he picks up at a bar after getting drunk enough to talk to any woman. In the morning he has this smile on his face. He rolls over and she's who he hooked up with. All you see is her arm and it is obvious she is larger. He looks at her. His eyes get big and you see how disgusted he is by the fact that this woman he brought home is a larger girl.

Oh I just get so tired of it. It is drives me crazy. Not too long ago someone posted a picture on Facebook. It was s split screen. On one side there was a man and on the other a woman. Under it it said something about, "To be attractive a man must have..." And a long list ensued about having a job, being responsible, funny, smart, etc. etc. etc.

The same thing was under the woman and it said something about the woman having a body or being pretty or something of the sort. It was supposed to be something about how hard it is to be a man. I just rolled my eyes and commented saying that yeah, but a woman can have/be all those things and still not be considered desirable because she isn't hot or pretty or whatever it said,

Basically I just want media to be responsible once and awhile snd realize how gorgeous inside and out all women of all sizes, shapes, and colors are and stop adding fuel to the fire that large women aren't attractive.

As one of my former students told me once after I had lost a lot of weight and began to gain it back and he saw me out and about and he said, "Miss graham I like you better like you are now cause any man can drive on a straight road, but it takes a professional driver to handle curves like that."

The Perks of Being A Teacher

It is Teacher Appreciation week, and I just wanted to take a moment to say how proud I am to not only be a teacher but to be a high school teacher.

There are days and moments like this morning between 9:30 and 11:20 that I thought I was going to go insane and wanted to just pull my hair out, but for every moment like that there are the moments when the same kids get so involved in a group project that they create things far above and beyond anything you could ever imagine.

I can't imagine any profession more rewarding that spending your days with teenagers, being a part of their melodramas and tears, their triumphs and their joys. I love going to their games and concerts and proms and ceremonies. I love listening to their outlook on life.

Teenagers are so much wiser than many people give them credit for. True, they say dumb things and don't know things I think should be obvious, their fresh outlook on the world teaches me just as much as I teach them.

I could just go on and on about all my students, past and present. Because of them I am the woman I am today. Each of them has left a foot print on my life and memory, and for that I am forever grateful.

And I am also grateful to my teachers and colleagues who instilled and continue to instill in me a love of education. So many teachers and professors touched my life as a student. I remember Mrs Poston's kindness in kindergarten and Mrs. Molly Robertson in 2nd grade. Mrs. Julie Varn installing my love of vocabulary and all things crazy in gifted and talented, and Mrs. Harwell teaching us intro German in 4th grade. In 7th and 8th grade Mrs. Vicky Bishop was the first teacher I remember treating us as "grown people" and making us responsible, and yes Denny Eaddy taught me more about the Civil War than any other teacher, even in college and I have a degree in history. Then in high school Mrs. Brock taught me to be unique and myself no matter how crazy others thought you were. Ms. Finn taught me that class could be fun, entertaining, AND educational. Chief taught me about opportunity cost and that "there is no such thing as a free lunch," and Ms Silvernail taught me how to harness my writing and showed me how to be really good at something that I love.

More than that, she showed me the type of teacher I want to strive to be. I try not to compare myself to her, one because I know there is no success in comparing ourselves to others and two I know how different our teaching styles and personalities are. However, if my daddy is the voice in my head guiding me every day in my life, Ms. Silvernail is the voice in my head in my classroom. I always find myself asking, "How would Ms. Silvernail handle this?"  I know my over emotional, hyper self will never fully grasp her cool, confident, calm demeanor, but when I find my blood pressure rising and my crazy boiling out, remembering how she treated her students and herself with respect I calm back down. She will always me the epitome of the perfect balance between respected professional and lifelong friend, and those are her qualities I aspire to the most.

So thank you for inspiring me long after my student days are over and for still be my friend and role model who I know I can call with any question or turmoil professional and personal 20 years after being in your class for the last time

So to all my students, teachers, and co workers who taught me, teach me, and inspire me everyday,"thank you" you are appreciated more than you can know.

Thoughts from a Sea Side.

A little something I wrote sitting on the beach the last night of vacay in July.

I am sitting on the beach listening to the waves crash. How something can be so majestic and so powerful, yet so calming and peaceful at the same time is one of life's great oxymorons. Living so close to the ocean I often take its grandeur for granted, but looking out at it this week I am filled up with its breadth. It amazes me that sitting here in this sand on Surfside Beach I could theoretically jump in a boat and travel east and end up on Spain. I could travel north to look for Santa or south and play with a penguin. It is breathtaking.

Taking my daily walks this week I couldn't help but think of the generations and generations of people who have walked this same stretch of sand: Native Americans, women in hoop skirts, teenagers in polyester bell bottoms. This water and this sand is the home to an infinity of stories and adventures.

Just this week alone I have watched daddies and daughters fly kites and play games. I have seen young moms take pictures of their toddlers splashing in the surf for the first time and grandparents dig tide pools for their precious grandchildren. I myself have sat and reminisced about coming here as a child and a teenager. I have remembered old friends and made new ones. I have talked about how this sand and this water is a gift of love from God.

Seriously, think about it. He made this ocean and this sand for us to come to and enjoy, to unite generations, to wash away our stresses, to create family memories and friendships, to marvel in His unending power.

We as humans can do A LOT of amazing things. We can create beautiful works of art, shower each other with love and kindness, but none of us;  not the richest, the smartest, the most powerful can build an ocean. We can't create the tide. We can't paint the sky as pink and blue as carnival cotton candy and have it reflect into the mirrored waters of the sea.

I felt the same way two weeks ago in the mountains. I looked out across the giants and realized standing in North Carolina I was seeing mountains across three states. It was awesome in the true sense of the word. Standing at an overlook taking in rows and rows of interlocking mountains I was floored by God's power and majesty.

Do you realize how much He loves us? In life, most people's great quest is to find that one person who makes them feel like the most special person in the world. The thing is we have that already. We just don't take the time to see it. We take it for granted.

God loves us like that. He loves us enough to create mountains and oceans, to create gorgeous flowers and amazing animals to color our worlds. He loves us enough to let us hear and create beautiful music to speak what our spoken words can't. He loves us enough to carry us through life's toughest, boggiest sand traps. He loves us enough to give up His one and only son so we could have eternal life with Him free from doubt or pain or loneliness. No man can do that. No woman can do that. No child. No parent. No one. The only One who can fill us up with unlimited and unending joy and love is Jesus.

As I look up from writing this the sun is almost gone and right in my line of sight is one little hermit crab dancing across the sand. No one saw it but me.

See, God gave me that moment. He gave me that sweet, precious small moment to fill my heart with joy and to let me know He is listening to me write this.  It wasn't a grand gesture. It was one of those little sursies, those small, unplanned moments that always end up being better than the ones you plan for to let me know He is smiling at me for recognizing and acknowledging His great gift of love.  Those moments are all around us if we will just stop and take the time to see them and appreciate them.

Remember we only know how to love because God first loved us, and the only real way to show someone true love is to share with them the great joy and perfection that is God's love. Everything else pails in comparison.

Post Election Thoughts 2012

More thankful than ever for never ending reruns of Friends on Nick At Night.  I don't usually partake in political rants.  I don't consider myself a political person.  I vote, and I have strong opinions about things.  However, I have never deemed it necessary to yell and scream my political agenda to others.  I know many people may not agree with me, but that is just me.

Today I was listening to 89.7, and they were talking about marriage and arguments.  The station was saying that normally when we argue it is about winning.  You win, the other person loses.  However, when you argue with your spouse you can't think of it that way.  You are a team.  You have to work together.  You can't think of it being you against them.

I feel that is analogous to the Presidential election situation.  The polarization of sides is never the answer.  As Americans we are a family.  We fight with each other.  We "hate" each other.  We complain about what the others are going that get on our nerves.  However, just like with family, when someone else threatens us, we are ready to protect our family.  We CANNOT make this Republic vs. Democrat, Black vs. White, Red vs. Blue.  Being at opposite ends of the spectrum never does anyone any good.

At this point it doesn't matter who you voted for.  It doesn't matter what your stance.  The people have spoken.  Our voice has been heard, and the man, who as defined by our Constitution, won the election.  Some of you may agree with the electoral college, some of you may not, but like it or not, it is there.  It is there to protect us from ourselves.  We are the people.  We do get a vote.  The electoral college is not to "fix" the election as I saw on here today.  The electoral college was set in place to protect us from the greatest threat to democracy, the uninformed voter.  Now, I by no means would ever claim to be an informed voter, but I have the clarity, courage, and conviction to admit that.  The electoral college is there to protect the country from the people who vote more for what is good for them than is good for the majority of the people (and how many of us does that include.)  It protects us from the people who voted for candidates because the last name sounded like a type of liquor.  It protects us from the people who voted for candidates because of the letter beside their name.  It protects us from the people who voted for candidates because of the color of their skin, their religious affiliation, their checking accounts, their promises; whatever.

See, the thing is each of us vote on what WE think is right; what WE want; what makes US happy.  Very very few people vote on what is best for ALL the people of this country.  There is no way that all of us will every be happy.  There is a great quote that says, "Too many people expect miracles from democracy, when democracy itself is the miracle."

It is a miracle and an anomaly that we, as average citizens, get to vote simply because we turn 18 and register.  The job of a democracy is not to make all the people happy.  The job of a democracy is to represent the voice of the majority of the people.  Sometimes you are going to be on the winning side and that will be great.  Other times you're going to lose, and it is going to SUCK, but just as we have a responsibility to go vote, we also have a responsibility to each other, our family.

We have a responsibility to respect each other, even if our opinions are different.  We have a responsibility to show grace to each other whether our side wins or loses.  We have a responsibility to respect our elected leaders because they are our leaders.  No matter if you are red or blue, our leader has been chosen, and from this moment on, it is our responsibility to pray for him to make the best choices to guide our country in a manner that will help us grow and prosper.  We have a responsibility to not call each other names (If you heard your children call each other names like I have witnessed my friends call each other names on here, you would punish them.)  We have a responsibility to raise ourselves above the simple mindedness of others.  If we hear people on the "other" side saying racist, ignorant, offensive comments, we do nothing but belittle ourselves and "our" side by stooping to that level and retaliating by doing the same thing.  That does nothing but speak poorly for the quality of our character when we can't actively decide when the best thing to do is to shut our mouths.  Haven't you ever heard of, "It is better to be thought a fool than to open your mouth (or unleash your fingers) and prove it."

There is a great thing called grace.  Grace is something that seems so simple, but at the same time is so illusive to so many people.  Grace is about kindness, even to those who do the hokey pokey on your very last nerve.  Grace is about knowing when to speak and knowing when to be quiet.  Grace is about displaying humility in both victory and defeat.  Grace can't be bought; it can't be won; it can't be passed down from generation to generation.

People, we have to show each other grace.  We have to show people respect.  We have to show people love, even if they don't have the same political views as our own; even if they don't share our religious views; even if they seem to be the biggest idiots on the planet.  We always teach our kids about being good losers, but we also have to teach the importance of being good winners.

Without grace and respect for our elected leaders and each other, it doesn't matter who is in the White House; who controls Congress; what amendments pass and fail.  Too easily we have become a county that is no longer free.  We are prisoners to pride and vanity and pettiness .  It will not be, until we can get back to treated others like we would want to be treated and better, "that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." (Abraham Lincoln)

Because from what I have seen on facebook that past months, it is not our leaders who are going to cause our nation to perish, it is those of us who can't see past our own agendas; our own desires; and get greater joy from the degradation of others than from lifting others up.  As Gandhi said, "We must be the change we want to see in the world," and the only way to change things for the better is to suck it up when we lose and show kindness to our victor and/or remember to be kind to those we defeat not rub salt in their wounds.