24 June, 2020

The, Feral and Wicked Intelligent, Airhead


I have ADHD, and I am pretty sure I have dyslexia (although, that has not been diagnosed).  Recently a dear friend whom I’ve known for many years referred to me as “feral and wicked intelligent”.  It is perhaps the most meaningful compliment I’ve ever received. 

The truth is,  I struggled with academics in elementary and jr high school.   Reading did not come easy to me-  I learned differently than my classmates and staying on task was challenging for me.  I needed more stimulation than sitting at a desk with books offered me.

I remember 8th grade science and the shame and embarrassment I held in my heart when Mrs. Johnson (who was a wonderful, kind teacher) engaged our class in “popcorn reading”. Popcorn reading was a game where students read from the text and then called on another person in class to read.  If you were called on to read and were not following along, you lost 2 points from your grade and the student who called on you gained 2 points on their grade.  

Does Heidi ever follow along? Do I even stay on task now?  That is a hard NO.  

But dammit, I tried.   I tried so hard to follow along in that 8th grade science textbook.  There were just SO many things that were more interesting and important to me than reading about mitochondria and triphosphates.   

Many of my peers were keen to my inability to follow along.  One classmate, who was somewhat competitive, had little regard for the shame and embarrassment  I felt when I was called on to read.  He seemed to receive great satisfaction when he got the chance to earn 2 points at my expense.  
And not only did not follow along, but I was a very poor reader.  It was utterly humiliating to me to read aloud in front of my peers.  I earned the name “airhead” among my classmates and to me that meant I lacked intelligence, and value.  It really hurt.  Even worse, it shaped the way I viewed myself and my self efficacy.  
I barely graduated from high school, and was lucky to get into our local state college- Idaho State University.  
College was different for me.  I got to choose classes I was interested in (for the most part).  There were powerpoints- creating a visual perception to go along with lectures.  I had lab work opportunities to test the theories I was learning in practical settings.  And perhaps the greatest difference was, I was driven and wanted to succeed.   After two years, I transferred to University of Idaho in Moscow and graduated with honors with a BS in psychology.  I applied to grad schools.  I studied Special Education  (BYU- Provo)  and moved to Kansas for a MS in Counseling (Kansas State University).  When I started my PhD, I was teaching full time and my partner Eric and I  adopted our son Elias.  After years of schooling, I made the decision to take time with my son.  Although disappointing in some ways, it was fulfilling in so many other ways.


I now teach at the University of Minnesota.   I work with teacher candidates on how to engage ALL students in meaningful ways.  Using multiple means of engagement, hands on activities, nature experiences, kinesthetics, verbal, audible, and visual ways to enhance learning in the classroom and beyond.
I love teaching.  I love my students.  And I am thankful for my {albeit painful} experiences that have shaped me into someone with empathy, desire, and courage to drive meaningful change.

Maybe I am not so different from  Jewell, Steven Spielberg, Cher, Whoppi Goldberg, Justin Timberlake, Michael Phelps, Keira Knightly and so many others with ADHD, Dyslexia and other challenges.

05 June, 2020

Texas and the Introvert

My Peeps went to Texas.   
I Love them.
And now I am alone.
Gloriously Alone!
After months of lock down,
with my favorite people as cell mates.

ALONE AT LAST, ALONE AT LAST,
THANK GOD ALMIGHTY.
I AM ALONE AT LAST.

25 May, 2020

George Floyd #ICan'tBreathe


Christmas 2013
Yesterday would have been my daughter’s 8th birthday.  She was born in Minnesota, the twin cities.  

Today George Floyd was murdered in her place of birth.   
Tomorrow marks one month since I was awakened at dawn by my neighbors chanting from their roof top “White Power”.

It's been a hell of a month.

Although my daughter died of natural causes,  the loss of a child is a pain I wish for no one.  


What does it feel like to be suffocated?  Air cut off,  begging for help, begging for release?  Pinned to the ground, handcuffed, with people standing around watching as you suffocate to DEATH? 
George Floyd is no longer alive to tell us.  And if he was alive. . .  who would listen? 
George Floyd and I are the same age,  would this same thing have happened to me if I spoke out against something I didn’t believe?   
We all know the answer to that.  
George Floyd got the death penalty because he was black. 
Racism is real.  He died because a white officer didn’t listen or respond to his repeated pleas for help, for air, for life.   Face your biases. 
BLACK LIVES MATTER.

29 April, 2020

My Lizzy

I still wrap myself up in her baby blanket sometimes.
Seeking comfort?  Or her?  Probably both.

As I watch myself travel this road of existence, I see how my grief has been shaped and changed me over the years.  I miss her still.  6 years ago seems like another lifetime,  and yet as May approaches I feel raw again.  It is a difficult month.  The month of her death, her birth, also Mother’s day.  

I ran through the cemetery this morning with tears streaming down my cheeks.  It hits me at unexpected times.   I let the tears flow, I’ve learned not to hold back, but rather to release the pain.

Opening myself to feel things… to really feel things has been one of the healthiest life choices I’ve made.  Being with the pain is not easy.  For me, grief has been like being in the ocean.  At first, the waves crashed around me, I could barely find my way up for air before getting knocked down by the next wave.  Storms come and go.  But now most of the time waves lap around my feet.  Every once in a while a big wave rolls in and knocks me down.  

Eventually,  I rise again.

One of the greatest pains as time goes by is that my memories of her are fading.  It hurts to even write those words.  I never want to forget her smell, her smile, her soft skin.   So now when the big waves come and knock me down with pain, it is her I am feeling.  Feeling close to my baby again.   I am able to open that place in my heart of hearts that remembers her.  That place that feels deep and powerful emotion.  It is a beautiful place.  A beautiful, painful place.  She is there, and I need her.


Madison Elizabeth Castle 2012-2014
May I introduce Madison Elizabeth Castle.  This little soul changed me for the better, and I will never be the same.  I love you Lizzy.

26 April, 2020

"White Power" = Pain, Fear and Frustration

The pain is real.
Living in fear of your children's safety hurts.
The fact that this is alive in my country, my state, my city, my neighborhood is devastating and frustrating.  

This image of a group of men and one woman on a nearby rooftop chanting "White Power" was snapped at dawn April 26, 2020.



01 April, 2020

Tiger King Madness


Tiger King madness, poor little kittens
Narcissist warning, they should all be in prison
Murder and mayham, madness and more
These are a few of the things I abhor.

Animals in cages going insane
As with his partners, Joe’s inhumane
Can’t think beyond himself, and he doesn't care
I wonder how he likes his new prison lair

Doc Antel’s compound, is more of the same
Not really a Doctor, just likes the acclaim
Pits of dead tigers, now too big to hold 
And don’t get me started on his household

When I’m locked up
When I can’t leave 
When I’m at home confined
I simply reflect on humanities shame
And then it blows my mind

Hey all you cool cats, and little kittens
Don’t forget Carol, wishin her husband good riddance 
She made up a meal for the tigers to eat
She can drop the facade, she isn’t that sweet.

Then, Jeff Lowe appears another train wreck
Saves the zoo with an embezzled check
Domestic abuser, murder for hire
He is the man to put fuel on the fire

Meanwhile Joe’s in a presidential campaign
With fraudulent funding from all the cocaine
Maintaining he marriage by withholding meth
His self serving nature is the cause of death

In seclusion
When I can’t leave 
When I’m at home confined
I simply reflect on humanities shame
And then
it blows my mind



Mourning Whales & Morning Wails

Today marks day 13 of Tahlequah, carrying the lifeless body of her new calf, born on Christmas Eve. Again she grieves. Tahlequah, an endan...