Google’s Failure to Revise Content Policy Unsatisfactory

I cannot find a way to contact Google in regards to the revoking of the new content policy, so I decided to blog about it instead.

Their decision to allow potentially harmful and pornographic content haunts and disappoints me, knowing that it will negatively impact thousands of individuals for the rest of their lives. Not only are adults - and children: however much Google might argue they’ve made provisions for their protection, research continues to find they are exposed to pornography without parents’ knowledge from a young age due to the accessibility Google and others provide - affected, but their exposure to such content will impact their contributions to and interactions with society in the highest degree.

I must say that I am sorry I did not reach out to praise Google’s decision before they retracted their new content policy. I will also begin an active search for a new blog domain if Google does not revisit and reconsider the revised content policy.

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To learn more about Google’s ongoing relationship with pornography and the effects of pornography on the brain, individual, family, and nation, visit www.endsexualexploitation.org or check out some of these links:

http://endsexualexploitation.org/dirty-dozen/
http://endsexualexploitation.org/articles/google-praised-for-cutting-porn-sexual-exploitation/
http://endsexualexploitation.org/articles/google-recants-and-continues-to-allow-porn-on-blogger/

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad (To)day

   Have you ever seen "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"? I have, twice: once on the big screen and the other on Saturday, February 21.

   Ironically, Saturday the 21st began with Brad claiming early on, "Today is a good day." If you were needing proof that the claim the promises route does not always deliver, look no further - that statement coupled with the events of today tell it all.

   Dishes lounging in the sink, begging to be loaded into the dishwasher, piles of clothes groaning to be taken through a wash cycle, and my floor screaming, "VACUUM ME!" greeted my tired but determined frame as I hopped out of bed at 7:40am. Did I mention my alarm had been set for 7am? I should have been warned. Hurriedly, I prepared my caramel apple pies for the oven and placed them inside the inviting heat box.
Mental reminder: check them at half the time, cover the crust. 

Mental moment: those are the best looking pie crusts I have ever made.

Returning half an hour later, my nose was the first to sense the dilemma. The "meat" of my pies perfectly prepared, the crusts did not fare near as well. Burned to a crisp (and not one, but both), I have officially ruined a bridal shower. 

Mental moment: Don't panic.

Assuring Brad, I quickly pulled out the remaining refrigerated pie crust to rapidly form small sections to add to the pie while cutting the burned section off. Goodbye, my beautiful darling... The crust was in the big black bag now. Brad had begun to help me, so we added the caramel to one of the pies and threw them both in the oven for another 10 minutes (Note: these pies are absolutely scrumptious when prepared correctly. You can find the recipe here ). 

   I bounded to the mirror. I had lost precious time remaking the crusts and needed to curl my hair. Somewhere along the way, my curling iron ended up on my lap, and now I had it, a large red blister, sure to scar in later days. 

Mental reminder: But the pies!

Throwing everything aside I ran to the kitchen and pulled out the pies. Including the pie with the now-burned caramel, yum. Well, here I was. Rushing to put on makeup, get my dress, prepare to leave, I realized there was more to life than pie crusts and scars. Today was still going to be a good day. With Brad and thankfulness on my side, I packed up my car and drove swiftly but carefully to the shower. 

   Mental moment: and only a smug ten minutes late. 

I thoughtfully decided, after parking and scoping out the situation, that I would carry only one pie in at a time to ensure the highest degree of safety for both the treats and myself. How do we talk ourselves out of brilliance so easily? But I did. A few short moments later, and I found myself with one pie in my left hand, half of another on the ground. Where was the other half, you may inquire. Alas, the other half, my dear friends, now gracefully adorned what they would call the "OOTD," also known as my chosen attire for the morning. The tears threatening to spill at any given moment (the staring picture window was of no help), I left half of the pie where it lay wallowing on the pavement and with the half ounce of dignity left inside, scraped myself up to the front door. 

Mental reminder: Today is a good day.

Mental moment: At least it was the uglier pie... At least your pie pan did not shatter...

Daring not to ask the infamous "could it get any worse?", I shamefully walked through the dining room and into the kitchen with my one wilting pie. Maybe no one else noticed, but I think that pie actually felt sorry for the other's sad fate; I could have sworn she - I mean it - quivered as I finally was rid of her - er, it. 

   This moment should be the climax of the story, hmm? One more faltering tale, perhaps a fender bender on the way home to change clothes, the dramatic realization I did not have enough gasoline to get back, or a sudden outburst of sobs right in front of the put together, organized, on time, homemaking women filling the house. Instead, everyone was quietly sympathetic, I managed to hold in the tears until I could get them down with a few eyelid squeezes and tissues, and the host of the shower happens to be right about my size (and of good taste) and encouraged me to wear something of hers that actually matched my shoes quite nicely. The shower went off without a hitch: my pie was devoured right along with the others and I made it home to my ever-loving, gracious husband. Later that evening, we dressed up and went to the rodeo with a sweet and incredibly gracious couple for Brad's first ever bull riding experience. I felt pretty, Brad looked great, we made it there on time, the funnel cake was yummy, friends were at the fair, the seats were awesome, and nobody got hurt. Crazy, right?

Mental moment: this day ended up ironically similar to Alexander's day...

Here's the thing, though. I didn't learn an extravagant lesson through this day. I went to bed much the same person that I woke up as, excepting for what you would call a couple of flesh wounds (or curling iron burns, depending on your pain tolerance). I had experienced a day filled to the brim with grace. A day containing so many "what ifs" and "should haves" that I really do not care to remember them. My day does not match up with my latest Bible study or mirror my devotion time in John. Neither did I hear audible warnings or encouragement from the Holy Spirit. Before arriving at the shower, I had even been listening to the book of Colossians, hoping for some spiritual truth about why I experienced the day I was having. Yet by the end, I was encouraged. Not because I found the "answer," but because in the end, everything was okay. God is always working in the middle of my messes. He's always leading yet walking beside me. I don't have great insight into the ways of life, but

I have peace.

Peace like a river.

Not always smooth, flowing easily up and down, without waves or rocks or waterfalls. Peace like a river. My peace remains while my heart races. The tears fall, but I still have my peace. Everything is turned upside down but my peace continues to flow. My peace is Christ. My peace is "It Is Finished." My peace is I AM. 

   I have absolutely no great look into how Saturday the 21st took place or what will come of it. I am not even sure it was meant for a lesson - maybe I'm just too slow to see it. I absolutely see, however, the Foundation of my hope, joy, love, grace, patience, and peace. 

1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
   When sorrows like sea billows roll;
   Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
   It is well, it is well with my soul.
   • It is well with my soul,
     It is well, it is well with my soul.
2. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
   Let this blest assurance control,
   That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
   And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
3. My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!—
   My sin, not in part but the whole,
   Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
   Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
4. For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
   If Jordan above me shall roll,
   No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
   Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
5. But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
   The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
   Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
   Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!
6. And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
   The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
   The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
   Even so, it is well with my soul.

[Hymn from Horatio Spafford]

The First and Last of Christmas

This Christmas was full- the new and the old, traditions and memories. 

Brad and I celebrated out first married Christmas this year, and all of the season culminated today in our first real holiday. 

We have not had a chance to slow, breathe in the crisp winter air, and enjoy God's goodness since the break began, but today was our set aside day to do so. The timing was perfect; Brad preached the three services at our home church yesterday for the first time.

The day was full of joy, but the weeks of preparation were both humbling and challenging as we felt God's call on our lives. Today became our Sabbath, a day of rest and remembrance of Christ. 

The tree twinkling, skirt sewn (finally!), and home decorated all a couple weeks before, our sweet little day actually began the night before with a trip to HEB resulting in a frozen pizza for Brad and red roses for me.

We tried a "healthy" cola soda, made in Austin, that turned out to be horrid, ate way more than we should have, and played dice and card games till our bellies hurt from laughing.

Friendship in marriage is precious.

This morning, sleeping in, Brad's yummy breakfast, and a clean home made for a lovely start before we made it to the celebration: Immanuel, God With Us. 

This name for The Lord is my favorite, and I have loved the gentle reminder this season of Christ's nearness to us. We began what will hopefully become a tradition: remembering the promises of Christ's coming.

Genesis 1-3. Genesis 15-17. Ezekiel 36. Zechariah 2-3. Matthew 1. Luke 1. 

How good is our God to give us His Word! After celebrating the Presence, we opened our presents and spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the peace and rest of being home together. Brad surprised me most of the day, and the evening was no different, as I was warned to "dress warmly" and promptly found myself at the Trail of Lights, an old family tradition I am excited to begin anew.

Home again then homemade bacon mac and cheese before settling in to watch football and Wreck-It Ralph. Thankful for a husband who loves cartoons with me.

I know that today was just one day. Tomorrow we'll put away the ornaments, put the tree outside, take the movie back, and most likely eat leftovers. I know today is only a day. Tomorrow Christ's coming will be just as real, I will have the opportunity to give gifts to others, and the earth will continue to orbit. Yet this 24-hour, normal day will remain precious to me for a very long time. 

This day was Christmas. 

On The First [Year] of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me...

A freshly-cut, Afghan Pine tree.

Brad and I cut down our first Holcomb Christmas tree together earlier this week. The farm closed at 6:30, so Brad and I drove out as quickly as we could after work. 

My family has cut down and had live trees in our home before, but this event was a first for Brad. The farm carries both locally grown Afghan Pines, a more traditional, long-needled tree, and imported Fraser Firs, a tree with short, thicker needles and a strong Christmas scent. While the Fraser Firs are lovely, Brad had a hankering to cut our own, and I had never had an Afghan Pine. The patient owner handed us a handsaw - complete with a brand new blade, a large red wagon, and giving us a good-natured chuckle, sent the #happyholcombs to find their perfect Christmas tree. 

The dusk made us run around like madmen all the while Jack Johnson sang "some night for Christmas" or something of the sort from my coat pocket. Brad, assured that we would "know" when we found "the one," traipsed through the trees, and, squinting to keep what little light was left in the sky for our eyes, we came upon it - there. A tall, slender, and slightly tilted, beautiful tree, complete with (an empty) bird's nest and all (which Brad carefully moved to a different tree). 

This tree was the one.

Brad deftly cut our little tree down and loaded it on the wagon while I held the phone light, so we would not perish on our way to get it bagged.

He looked pretty good chopping our find down, too...

We made a record-time trip to Walmart for a base and some lights before getting home to put the Pine up.

[insert story where Brad uses rusty saw to salvage a cross-section of the trunk for an ornament, only to bring about a little bleeding]

After a little more scavenging, puzzling, and laughing, we had our 4" diameter tree trunk held firmly in place between the screws meant for no smaller than a 5", and the lights all in place. No ornaments yet, but we'll get there! God is so good to give us this time together; loving this new and first season of marriage in our cozy little home.

Happy First, Married, Fun, Joy-filled, Holcomb Christmas! 

Reflection #4: Stereotypes

     I believe that teachers have a tendency to stereotype on a daily basis. We unknowingly make little comments or subconsciously use body language to reveal our prejudices, whether through race, gender, religion, or otherwise. The secondary classroom can be worse than elementary programs when it comes to stereotyping students; their personal feelings are beginning to emerge in a new way as they become independent and their parents give them freedom in a way they have not experienced before. Even secondary students have a fragile sense of self-esteem, and they need someone mature enough to overlook behavior, attitude, and appearance. I noticed this tendency in myself from the beginning of the year. With students who looked Hispanic, I tended to assume they spoke Spanish. I was surprised when I would connect a grammar concept to Spanish grammar with little response from the students, and I began to realize that they did not speak the language simply because it was associated with their appearance. I never showed my surprise to my students, but it did teach me to be on the lookout for “hidden stereotypes” I have that I might not even recognize yet. I have seen teachers assume that students who came from a different continent work harder than students from the U.S. Such stereotypes take place without teachers even realizing it. I believe that if most teachers knew how often they were stereotyping students, they would quickly change their minds and interactions with students. It is a difficult challenge to overcome.

     Treating each day as a new day is one of the most successful ways to avoid stereotyping students. If I enter the classroom with none but the highest expectations for my students and myself, I have noticed I treat them as equals. The days I am dissatisfied with events from the day before or allow personal troubles and worries to shadow me into my classroom are the days I struggle to see students outside of stereotypes and social perceptions. I must choose to focus on the content I want the student to master rather than the opinion they have of things outside of academics. My role as a teacher does not include judgement. Even grading is assessment instead of judgement. My students need unconditional love if they are to listen and learn. This semester, I have worked at walking into the classroom each day with a smile, regardless of the events transpiring in my own life, outside of the building walls. For a teacher, each day has to be a new day, as if you have never met each student, or anyone like him or her, before. As I have started to begin each day anew, I have really learned that it helps me work with students for that day instead of becoming frustrated over a buildup of past “failures” and frustrations. 

Reflection #3: No Child Left Behind

     As a student teacher, I have mixed feelings on the issue of inclusion. Addressing the needs of all students is not an option for schools and teachers – every student should have the opportunity to excel in education. However, how the needs are addressed for the students is a complicated issue. While inclusion has given some students the opportunity to become a part of a “regular” classroom, I feel that inclusion could have just as big of an impact on non-disabled students as they also learn how to help and work with students who are considered part of “special education.” On the other hand, inclusion creates difficulties for teachers who are already struggling to reach all of their students. Once they are put in the “regular” classroom, students with special needs are treated, along with education in general, “as an assembly line” (Randolph and Wilson-Younger, p.5). Although the No Child Left Behind Act and teachers across the country have strived to help students succeed, the assembly line of inclusion is “contrary to the belief that each child needs to be treated as an individual and have their education tailored to fit their specific needs” according to Randolph and Wilson-Younger (p.5). As I have spent time both observing and teaching throughout the semester, the need for smaller classes has become apparent. One day in class, we were working on expository essays with our students. We used the same prompt for each period, reviewed how to write an expository essay with the students, asking questions to check for understanding, and then we allowed them the rest of the class period to complete the essay. After each period, my cooperating teacher and I looked back over the essays to see how the students had done. Each period, all but three to five students had failing grades, so we would revise the instruction, but to no avail – the students were still failing. For the last period, acting in desperation, we decided to split the class and each take half, going over each part of the essay with the students. Because the class was smaller and at the end of the day, the task would be less complicated. At the end of the period, all but one or two students had essays that would receive a passing to high grade. That experience drastically affected the way I viewed the classroom. Inclusion is a wonderful idea, but only if the teachers are well equipped, given fewer students and more time. Another important aspect of inclusion is parental involvement. According to Simpson et al, “parents and families are thought to be an integral educational resource and alternative” under NCLB (Simpson et al, p. 69). Parents and family members are the ones who make inclusion possible for their children. If the parent works with the student because they want them to succeed in a “regular” classroom, the teacher has the added support needed to help the child in every way. The No Child Left Behind Act was monumental; “It expanded the federal role in education and took particular aim at improving the educational lot of disadvantaged students” (Education Week). The plan is not foolproof, however, and many parents, educators, and administrators are dissatisfied with the results. Although meant to help students who have been “left behind,” students still fall through the cracks; only they are lost in a “regular” rather than “special” classroom.
     This semester, my goal is to take the time to create individualized instruction and use every learning type for every lesson as often as I can. Having students who are succeeding in the classroom come alongside and aid those who are not is also important, and often students can reach their peers in ways I never could. Learning to harness that power and use it for learning will be a challenge that I am eager to overcome.

Randolph, K., & Wilson-Younger, D. (2012). "Is No Child Left Behind Effective For All Students?" Parents Don't Think So. Online Submission,

Simpson, R. L., LaCava, P. G., & Graner, P. (2004). The No Child Left Behind Act: Challenges and Implications for Educators. Intervention In School And Clinic, 40(2), 67-75.

"No Child Left Behind." Education Week. N.p., 4 Aug. 2004. Web. 9 Mar. 2014, <http://www.edweek.org>.

Success Journal

"Success of the Day" Tweets:

2/24/14 - "A student who usually sleeps completed writing a thesis for me with little coaxing AND made a passing grade on it! @mrtechyteach #edsuccess"

2/25/14 - "My rowdiest class responded quickly to directives, and my coop. teacher praised my discipline of the loud student! @mrtechyteach #edsuccess"

2/26/14 - "My humor sparked with my afternoon classes & they loved it. They are beginning to respect & admire me as a teacher. @mrtechyteach #edsuccess"

2/27/14 - "My cooperating teacher wants me to begin STAAR grammar with the students Monday even though she'll be out of town! @mrtechyteach #edsuccess"

2/28/14 - "Survived the Friday in spite of having a sub in my classroom. 4th period stayed on task & worked hard for me today! @mrtechyteach #edsuccess"

     Writing the "Success of the Day" tweets did have a positive impact on my week. Each day, I found myself on the lookout for moments that were successful. In the midst of grading, keeping students focused, and trying to take on more responsibility in the classroom, negativity lurks so sneakily around the corner. I began to recognize the temptation to complain about someone or something was coming more easily than it had before. This assignment has played a large role in curing me of what could have become a bad habit. The classroom is a difficult place to work, and the pressure comes from all sides. Students, administration, and even other teachers bring about frustration for various reasons, but if I cannot handle the "real world," how will I ever expect that I can teach my students to? Choosing to encourage myself and others affects every aspect of my day- whether interacting with those around me, planning, completing a duty, or giving instruction. I am thankful for this reminder, and I plan on continuing this practice every day although not necessarily through Twitter.
     Two areas are my primary focus for "success" in the classroom at this point. While I have many areas to improve, two have been on my mind as of late. Discipline and revised instruction. Because of my petite frame, I was afraid teaching my students to follow my directives would be a constant battle. I am learning how to control the classroom, however, and my hope is that I continue to grow in my understanding of how to reach students. I would love to reach the point that I did not have to use verbal cues to warn my students, but nonverbal cues take quite a bit of practice. The other area is revising instruction throughout the day. I would like to successfully pick up on how my students respond to my instruction. While I have no trouble recognizing when there is a complete misunderstanding between my students and me, immediately recognizing when there are slight confusions regarding the material is still difficult for me. I would love to get to the point to where I am not even finished with my 1st period before I see what I can do to improve my lesson for the day.