change

At the end of October of last year (2011) I had run 12 races in 9 months and I was pooped. I decided to take some time off and not worry about "the next run". Well, that time off turned into 2 months. TWO MONTHS! And just as running had become part of my routine, not running also became a part of it. So in January I decided to get back into it. Things are so easy to commit to when you're not actually doing them (i.e. I am going to floss everyday. I am going to be a vegetarian. Oooh. I will meditate EVERY morning with the sunrise). Did you know that it takes two weeks of doing something regularly to make it a habit? Ugh. And getting back into the habit of running has not been easy. Let's get all the negatives out of the way first- my running buddy, Courtney, moved. Not across town, but two states over. Seriously, who is going to simultaneously yell/encourage me? This whole motivating myself business can wear you down, just as much as the physical. Because I now run by myself I run in the early evenings, not the morning. According to Runner's World, it takes two weeks to acclimate to changing your regular running time (morning/afternoon/evening). I often feel like I'm competing with the cars and they always win. Plus, there are those weirdos who like to yell at me as I'm running in the bike lane, or worse, attempt to high-five me. And another thing, I think I hate my shoes. I know it takes awhile to break in shoes (sorry, couldn't find a stat), but I'm not sure if these are going to be my slightly muddy glass slippers. We'll see.
Now, on to the positive. Courtney and I decided to get on the same running plan and text/call/email in the results of our run. It's not to be competitive, but to have accountability to someone. So even though she's a two hour plane ride away, it helps to know that she's sweetly cursing at the same sky on long-run days. And while running during rush hour isn't my ideal, it has also given me structure to my day. I HAVE to do those errands right after school and it stops me from watching hours of lame tv. As for my running shoes, I've discovered that my foot only hurts when I'm running on an uneven surface, and they're pretty badass for trail running. Clearly, all of this points to the fact that I am resistant to change. I hate change. Scratch that. I hate change that is imposed on me. If you force change upon me, I become a petulant teenager. But given the choice and the chance I often want to do something radically different, if only for a little change.

Give it a try.

Growing up I had many different ideas of what I wanted to be. I wanted to be a lawyer, like my dad. I wanted to be a news reporter, like Peter Jennings. In high school, I had an amazing math teacher and thought, "I can be an engineer or an architect." In college, thanks to Dr. Saldivar, I thought about becoming a researcher. I also entertained for many years the idea of becoming a nun. Off and on the idea would pop up. When I was little it was because I had this romantic ideal of praying and living a pure life. After a year of volunteer work, I came back to the thought, but this time with the idea of committing my life to social justice and serving others. You see, I become so enamored with so many things, I often think "Maybe that's it!" But teaching? I never thought that that was what I wanted. Yet, somehow, everybody else seemed to know what I didn't.
I don't claim to have many gifts. I am patient, when I want to be. As a child I used that patience to hold grudges that would go on for months. I like to think that I am fair. I don't like choosing sides and I like to get as much information as possible before making a decision. But perhaps my greatest strength is my ability to love. I love being able to give my love to others and think that maybe this is better than getting love in return. Love can take many forms- a hug, a smile, a squeeze of the hand, one's constant and unwavering presence and just saying "I see you." And maybe this sounds self righteous, but I truly believe that I have enough love to give.
I work in special education and have been introduced to a number of kids who constantly make me smile, laugh and realize how lucky I truly am. One of my favorites is Peter. Peter is autistic and very gregarious. If he does not know you he will introduce himself but warns you that he doesn't like to shake hands because he doesn't like people touching him. When I first met Peter his parents were working on some of his social skills. And while staring intensely at people would seem rude to you and I, Peter didn't understand. After telling Peter that staring is rude, he adopted a stance of turning his head away and avoiding all eye contact. When we pointed out that that was just as rude Peter decided that perhaps alternating between staring and turning his head in 30 second increments might be the answer. When we stopped Peter from doing that he became exasperated. And as he questioned me, I had to agree that some of these unspoken social rules are fairly ridiculous.
Part of my job is to ensure that special ed. students get the support and assistance they need in regular ed. classes. Special education is divided into 13 subcategories. These include orthopedic impairments, speech and language, math computation, reading comprehension and autism, just to name a few. So when special ed. kids are in general ed. classes, I am there to ensure that they understand the material to the fullest extent. But with some kids, like Peter, I am there to also ensure that they acclimate socially. I would like to point out that Peter's peers understand he's different, but I have never seen anyone be rude or say anything rude to him about his behaviors. And he has some interesting behaviors. Teachers and students alike have learned that when Peter says Hi, you respond and look him in the eyes. A quick response without fully acknowledging him will result in Peter repeating Hello until you respond appropriately. Peter likes the desks in his row to line up properly. He always tries to be one of the first ones to class to adjust the desks. If you happen to be sitting in a desk that needs adjusting he will ask you to stand and then fix the desk. And while it might sound ridiculous and unnecessary to you and I, it is very real to Peter and fixing it means that the day can continue on. Some of the kids even help him out moving the desks, stopping to look back at him as he directs them which way to go.
Peter doesn't like math. He often gets frustrated and agitated when shown new material. His initial response used to be to scan the room for me and say "Ms. Rivera, this is too hard." Then, I would help him set up the problem, starting with the steps he knew and slowly incorporating the new information, all the while repeating "You can do this. Just give it a try." When Peter had a handle on the lesson we would do our version of a high five. Because Peter's autistic he is sensitive to touch and doesn't like to be touched- and he'll tell you. So we both put our hands into the "thumbs up" position and briefly touch our thumbs. And then he goes to work.
In the last semester I've seen a change in Peter. When he's confused he still looks for me, but when I approach he puts his hand out to stop me. "I'm just going to give it a tryyy." Sometimes it's hard to watch him try and not step in, knowing that he's doing the problem wrong. But I want him to try. Sometimes he'll even turn to a peer to ask for help, and now others know the "thumbs up" high five.
In December I decided to apply for my Masters in Special Education with a certification in behavior modification. I thought back to last year when I wasn't accepted to UCLA. I decided to reapply and to some other schools that also had strong programs. I also thought about how upset I was when I didn't get in and a little voice in the back of my head asked "What if you don't get in, again?" And then I heard Peter's voice telling me to "Just give it a tryyyy." So I did, I gave it a try.