As I wrap up my fifteenth year of teaching fifth graders, I’ve taken some time to make a few reflections. I have taught for thirteen years at a Classical Christian school and two years at a Christian school, but everywhere fifth graders are the same. They are awesome, and I love them!

Recently I ran across a former student who was then in upper school. During the course of our short conversation he quipped about my still teaching fifth grade: “They haven’t let you out yet?!” haha I thought, “No, no, they haven’t, and I hope they never will.”

When my own personal children were in middle school, one of them remarked one day that I used to say that whatever current age or grade they were in was my favorite age. Nope. Not any longer. I stalled out in fifth. I have camped out in fifth grade and remained there. Why? Let me tell you.

Fifth graders can tie their own shoes AND hold a conversation with you, sometimes even simultaneously.

When reading and discussing literature with fifth graders, their initial responses as stories unfold are pure. When something critical is revealed or a connection is made, you see it on their faces. The light bulb moment. The reaction. The understanding. It differs from conversations with adults about books. We tend to over analyze. Over critique. We often miss the point. With fifth graders, you see the raw and real reaction to human endeavors. They call stupid things, stupid and beautiful things, beautiful. They help keep me seeing things with fresh eyes.

I learn from them every day. Every single day.

I remember being a fifth grader and ALL the deep, tumultuous emotions of my 5th grade year. My parents got divorced. My mom and I moved in with my grandparents. I started a new school. I missed a whole week of school in the spring. I had been hospitalized for an unidentified sickness (later deemed to be stress related) meanwhile my classmates were learning fractions. “What is THAT?” I thought upon my return to class. I felt behind for the rest of the year (until 6th grade which was awesome!). Unbeknownst to me, God would sovereignly use every one of these experiences to prepare me to relate and empathize with my future fifth grade students.

Fifth grade was the year that I discovered a love of literature. Betsy and Henry and Ramona and all of the gang. We took weekly visits to the school library (think wooded walls lined with books–two whole rooms). The highlight of the week. It was heaven.

I love the excitement on a student’s face when they “get” it!

I love the joy of the learning and the learning of the joy. Sometimes it is a process. These two things do not always arrive concurrently. Once the joy arrives, it’s almost unstoppable.

Teaching keeps me learning. I need to always be prepared. Locked and loaded with fresh and ready learning. An inquisitive fifth grader can throw you for a loop if you’re not ready for it. They keep me on my toes.

Teaching keeps me humble. Learning to gracefully make mistakes in front of my students. Yes, strive for excellence, but when we fail, and we will fail, do so with grace, and a twist of humor. Learn to laugh at yourself.

Fifth graders are full of potential, yet they are already who they are, who God has made and shaped them to be. It is a beautiful thing watching it unfold along His plan. Human flourishing.

Seeing my former fifth graders fly and soar and fully embrace their fellow man as they follow His path for their lives. Doesn’t get much better.

During summers, I love walking on the trail and watching the sun rise. It is the highlight of my day (no pun intended). When summer ends, transitioning from the lingering morning routine to a rushed earlier schedule is a bit jarring. I LONG for and LOVE teaching. But arriving at school before daybreak prevents the leisurely sunrise walk on the trail. I can’t have it both ways. I love both things but both things cannot exist simultaneously.

Hence the cake idiom: You can’t have your cake and eat it too. When I was a kid, this is one of those sayings that really baffled me. Why would you want to “have” the cake? How do you “have” a cake? What’s even the point of that? Cakes are meant to be eaten!

So, during this pandemic time, I have been able to take walks in the morning about the time I would be heading out to drive to school. I have enjoyed some beautiful sunrises. Each time with a little stab of pain. I’m getting to see the sunrises, but I’m not getting to be with my class. I can’t have it both ways.

In one of our fifth grade novels, Johnny Tremain, a talented boy who is apprenticed to a silversmith, badly burns his hand and can no long work at his craft. He is bereft. There is a scene in the book that this pandemic time has made me remember. Since Johnny is unable to work and do his usual routine, he decides to take a walk down Hancock’s Wharf as he has always longed to do:

The boy was accustomed to working from eight to twelve, sometimes fourteen hours in a day… He had often imagined to himself the pleasure it would be just to stroll once down Hancock’s Wharf, as he was strolling now. Nothing to do. His hands in his pockets. Other boys—friends of his—would look up from their work, envy his idleness. (Forbes, p. 47)

But now Johnny was walking through this longed-for wharf while being pitied, not envied, and excluded rather than included in the community to which he once belonged. He couldn’t have it both ways.

We all go through different seasons of life. You can’t live in the crazy chaotic kid stage and the calmer empty nester stage at the same time. Your kids can’t be both pre-walkers and post-graduates at the same time. You can’t enjoy the baby stage and the adult stage with your children at the same time. They each belong to their own season.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1 ESV)

So, what does all of this have to do with cake? Having (keeping) the cake is a fleeting thing. If you keep the cake, you don’t get to enjoy it. Then it just disintegrates.

Enjoy each season as it comes and make the most of it.

Be present in the moment.

Enjoy surprising and unexpected seasons.

Take a picture of “the cake” as a photo memory/keepsake. But, then eat the cake and enjoy it!

As summer time approaches once again, I am going to be thankful for the sunrise walks while they last, but then I will be ready for and delight in the wonderful times of teaching the students that are in my care.

Enjoy the sunrises. Eat the cake. Do each thing in its own time. Sounds like a win-win to me.

As a child, I was obedient. I could follow the rules. I could get the gold stars. I could do the check list like no other. Give me a rule, and I would comply. Sound much like a Pharisee? Or, at least a good “One” on the Enneagram chart?

There’s no quicker way to a total crash than by obeying rules for the wrong reasons. Just because they’re rules.

As an adult, I still love rules. But now I have fallen in love with the Ruler Giver. The Lover of my Soul. The Author of my Salvation. The rules now bring delight.

Delight is found in following the commands of God.

I will obey your word.

Beauty is found in obedience.

I have loved the Word of God for many years, but now I have come to deeply love and delight in God’s Word, not only for it being the Holy Word of God, but also because of its beauty.

I love the beauty of God’s words, not just for the sake of following a command or out of fear, but also out of delight. Sheer delight. I want to run in the path of his commands because he has set my heart free (Psalm 119:32 NIV).

Encountering words that would have formerly struck terror in me and caused me to fear, now cause me to trust in the beauty of God’s sovereignty. To savor it. To stand in awe of it. To delight in it. I find great hope in God’s words in Job 38, as He proclaims His presence from the beginning, marking out the foundations of the world and establishing boundaries.

The image of God halting the waves and commanding the sea brings beautiful trust in the sovereignty of God. Thus far shall you come, and no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stayed (Job 38: 11 ESV).

I love Psalm 119. It is my favorite psalm. We often memorize some of the verses in Psalm 119 about storing God’s Word in our heart, seeking God with our whole heart, and lighting our path with His Word.

Yes, let’s continue to store up, seek, and stay on His path, but all while following the One who is leading and knowing why He is leading us there.

Psalm 1 calls us to meditate on God’s Word both day and night. The tree being nourished by streams of water is both beautiful and life giving. Meditating. Contemplating. Pondering.

Jonathan Edwards, the colonial American pastor-theologian wrote in his Personal Narrative (WJE 16: 797) of his overwhelming joy in Scripture soon after his conversion. “I had the greatest delight in the Holy Scriptures, of any book whatsoever, often-times in reading it, every word seemed to touch my heart … I used often-times to dwell long on one sentence, to see the wonders contained in it; and yet almost every sentence seemed to be full of wonders.” Dwelling. Delighting. Longing. Lingering. Loving. The Word of God.

So, let’s continue to hold the terror of the law in tandem with its beauty. Savor the beauty and delight in it. When the law becomes beauty, love the law. It is the path to freedom.

I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word (Psalm 119:16 ESV).

“About Me” lists always crack me up. They are so “I” focused. We all do seem a little shortsighted or myopic about ourselves. But, it’s a quick way for someone to tell you about themselves or at least tell you what they want you to know. So, ironically, here’s my “About Me” list. An introductory bio page if you will. So here goes. I:

1. Live at The Kelton, but I shop at Aldi and eat soup straight out of a can.
2. Go to the movies at Clearfork AMC, but usually with a gift card or on a $5 Tuesday.
3. Live in a studio apartment, but most of my stuff is in storage.
4. Attend The Village Church (with the cool young kids), but we are considered salty.
5. Write, but I’m not a writer; I’m a feeler who needs an outlet to express words and thoughts. Which may or may not be in complete sentences. Maybe only fragmented thoughts or feels.
6. Love books, but usually check them out at the library, buy them used, or purchase them with an Amazon gift card.
7. Love to walk outside on the trail, but I am not an athlete or a marathon runner.
8. Love taking photographs, but I am not a photographer.
9. Love art, but I cannot draw or paint.
10. Love music but my favorites range from Handel to 80s rock.

Paradox? Well balanced? Confused? Mixed bag? Conflicted?

I always feel like a bundle of conflicting ideas. For example, on the Colors Personality Test, I’m a gold blue. Which means I’m all about the check list, but I have a bleeding heart as well. “So, yes, you better get that assignment turned in on time. Oh, your fish died? Give it to me next week.”

Making snap misjudgments of how things appear: We all do it. The “blink” that Malcom Gladwell speaks so well of in his book by the same title, most often is true, but not always. People are deeper than that. We are not just surface creatures. We have layers.

In the historical fiction book, The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare, one of the main themes is misjudgment based on appearances. This happens because of a lack of knowing or understanding a situation. The story is set during Colonial Times, but it is timely and timeless. The main character, Kit Tyler from the fringed blue shores of Barbados, sharply judges America as she approaches its bleak, unimpressive shores. She “blinks” and her first impression is not a positive one. This colors her entire existence as she lives among the New Englanders. Conversely, they strongly judge her as well. Neither side took the time to get to know or understand the plight of the other. They continued on in their snapped judgments. Until the end of the story. You should check it out.

This all ties in to some pandemic thoughts: Everyone is experiencing these strange times differently. Everyone’s situation is unique. This is not a one-size-fits-all pandemic. Hopefully, it’s a once in a lifetime one.

Some people regardless of a pandemic or not, appear to have it all together while others look at the point of collapse. You. Never. Really. Know. You can’t know. How can you know the depths of someone at a glance who is doing their best to just hold it all together? Not let their true inner situation show. Lest a single tear open the floodgate of waters which stand ready to break forth like Niagara Falls.

I recently read an article entitled: “Everyone Around You is Grieving. Go Easy.” That hit me like a ton a bricks. Everyone is grieving various things of sorts. Yes, the loss of a loved one is definitely at the extreme top of the list. Yet, we are all grieving the losses of something, whether it be tangible or intangible, large or small. The loss of normal things is still a loss. Not being able to see people that you love or do the things you usually do is a loss. A range of losses exists.

We need to not be in the habit of sizing up situations and decreeing that “My thing is harder” or playing the comparison game (like the commercial with the two old men at the pool comparing their past surgeries and the “you win” going to the one whose last surgery went “through the nose”) because you don’t really know the depth or complexity of the thing. You are saying that their pain isn’t real or important, or that it doesn’t even count. It does. Acknowledge pain. It is human.

Everyone is grieving in one sense or another. Everyone is experiencing some type of pain, large or small, imagined or realized, so let’s be quick to be kind. Smile. Love. Encourage. People need people. AND people need people who will listen and empathize, not judge and criticize.

So when we do our “blink” snapshot of others, let’s remember there’s more to the picture than meets the eye.

In 2005, our family moved back to seminary in June. It was summertime. So, right after we moved in, we took a trip. To Virginia. I was so excited. Our first real family vacation. Just the four of us. I researched it. I planned our trip. I purchased a package deal. It was the “Historical Triangle” tour. The triangle included: Williamsburg, Jamestown, and Yorktown. We were set to go.

We drove all the way to Virginia. In July. It was hot. After several days in heat-laden Virginia at The Williamsburg Hotel, we were all tired, sunburned, and a little historically worn out. We had visited all the sites at Colonial Williamsburg, including the Governor’s Mansion, the Capitol, and all of the shops and colonial tours in between. We had eaten at the King’s Arms Tavern. We had even attended church at the Bruton Parish Episcopal Church. One day we walked around the beautiful campus of The College of William and Mary, and every day we hung out at the Barnes and Noble/Starbucks for a break from the heat.

We took the bus to Jamestown and saw an archeological dig, toured the ruins of the old church, and took pictures by the Pocahontas and Captain John Smith statues. We visited the gift shop, bought the playing cards, looked at all of the upcoming preparations for the big 400-year celebration, toured the Jamestown Settlement and climbed aboard the replica ships from 1607.

We had one more day for our stay in old Virginny. We debated taking a quick trip to DC, but decided to keep to our triangle trip. Triangle. Right. We still had a third site to visit on our historical triangle tour. Yorktown. Right, Yorktown. What was that anyway? Was it really that important?

Confession: I’ve never told anyone this outside of family, but, I didn’t know what it was, so we opted out. What? Opted out? Opted out of the place where America’s freedom was finally secured? Opted out of the place where the final battle of the American Revolution occurred? Opted out!? I did not realize the significance of this place. This place in history. It was so close, yet so far away.

When did I realize the importance of it? It was during my first year of teaching at a classical school in 2006. One of our history cards for the year was Yorktown and the Treaty of Paris. (1781, 1783) What?!

When I read about it, I was dumbfounded. (Insert intense cringe here.) How could I not know about such an important historical event?

Now, when I hear of Yorktown, I smile and I think: it’s my favorite Revolutionary War moment to teach, my favorite battle scene to picture, and even my favorite Hamilton song.

But, each year as I am preparing to teach about Yorktown in Fifth Grade, I always feel a little twinge down deep when I remember that only fifteen years ago, I did not even know what it was.

So, that’s a big part of what this site is all about.

It’s important to know history, so you don’t miss it!

I love a good origin story: how someone discovered something or a “how it all began” story. Everything has a beginning.

So, how did “HuzzahBoss” begin? Let me tell you.

During our school’s Distance Learning Plan days, teachers made digital lesson plans and increased our used of technology for communicating these plans. We gathered resources. We embedded links in Google docs. We made interactive learning tools.

I wanted to keep and easily locate these resources again later. I hoped to transfer the things that I learned and the insights that I had gained for future use in the classroom.

I needed a single location that was easy to find and easy to use.

Additionally, aside from gathering a reservoir of resources, writing became an outlet for me during these days as well, so I wanted a “place” to freely write thoughts and ideas (not necessarily history related) – other than making Facebook posts.

During one of my more insightful technological moments, I was delighting over turning an ugly URL into a beautiful link in my Google doc. It looked clean and beautiful. My husband replied to my glee with a chuckle saying, “Next you’ll be wanting your own website.”

I chuckled as well.

But …

The very next day during a faculty Zoom meeting, the question was posed about what we had learned during our Distance Learning days that we could take back to the classroom. Comments were made regarding empathy and technological growth and transference back to the classroom. All of these things I felt and desired as well.

So early the next morning, I thought about: a website.

For two purposes only:

1) A place to house resources

2) A place to write my thoughts and ideas

I told my husband. He immediately helped me get started.

We looked up a few website names, checking for availability.

I wanted something along the lines of history or boss or my name or thoughts. Several that we tried were unavailable. Then he suggested StephanieJBoss. Boring, but available. “Let’s get it.”

But, the host let me know it was available by the typed word “Huzzah!”

Huzzah! Huzzah … I love the Revolutionary War era and it was a little play on words with Boss … so I said, “HuzzahBoss … check that one.”

“Yep. Available. Let’s grab it.”

So we chose the name, purchased the dot com, and then my husband began to help install WordPress on the host. At this point, I had a decision to make. I had to become a learner. Before I did not feel the need to learn; now I did.

I determined to be a good student. It was a choice.

In that moment, I realized that I had been the problem whenever he tried to “teach” me technological things. I was a bad student. I always wanted it right away and did not want to take the time to learn. Up until this point, I had always said, “Just show me this or do that. Just show me only what I need to know.”

If this was going to work, I was going to have to be … teachable. I would need to listen, submit, be patient, wait … Aaah so hard … “Get to the point already.” (“Ouch, my poor students. Is this how they feel?” Yikes, so convicting.)

Defining moment. I chose to sit and listen. Quietly.

I pulled another chair up to the computer to watch a 40-minute WordPress tutorial (for non-techy people haha). I watched all of it. AND I took notes. I even paused a few times to go back and listen.

It was hard, but I patiently waited to ask questions instead of jumping ahead – let it unfold.

We went to the WordPress dashboard and chose a theme. He helped me position the artwork that I wanted to use.

We had a conversation about widgets. That was a first.

I made a first post. It was going well. I was listening and learning.

Thus HuzzahBoss.com was born.