This post is inspired by a sermon from Joel Osteen called “Stay in the Game.” You might not be in grad school, but I think this applies to life as a game, as well. It doesn’t take a lot of faith to stay in the game when things are going our way. Many times along the way, I considered grad school (and life) as a game. Completing my dissertation, and getting a PhD was a win/lose type of situation, or at least it was for me. If I had given up, I would have lost at the game. Looking back, if I had effortlessly completed the classes and the dissertation, with no bumps, bruises, or challenges, that prize, being Dr. Hollingsworth, wouldn’t mean as much to me. If the grad school game were easy, it certainly would not have taught me all the lessons it did.

It’s easy to lose our passion when we’re hurt – our advisor is critical, a colleague does us wrong, an experiment doesn’t work, our families aren’t understanding of the pressure, the program changes to become harder, the environment on campus becomes negative or nasty, or we flat out feel the pain of stress pressing down on our lives. It’s easy to begin the negative talk. “This program is stacked against women. This research doesn’t mean anything. My experiments don’t matter. My advisor is a jerk. My committee has it out for me. They don’t like me. I chose a bad advisor. This program is doomed.” This negative talk is making excuses for why we MIGHT fail, and prepares us to shield our emotions, in case we do fail.  Shake off the pity, and get back in the game.

Some students make excuses to sit on the sidelines. You can still play, even in pain. “I’d rather be in the game in pain, than sitting on the sidelines watching.”

This is where the game became personal for me. Through my entire grad school career, I was having massive surgeries. Any one of them would have been reason to give up. In February of 2008, both of my retinas blew out. I had over 20 eye surgeries, the last two of which they removed my eyeballs, and scraped them out, and filled them with fake fluid. One of these surgeries was right before I was supposed to take a final. The other kept me from starting class for three weeks. Throughout all of these surgeries, I never once thought of quitting my program. I always was thinking “How can I get back to school, so I can get on with my life?” There were days I couldn’t see well, and my father drove me to work. There were other days where I laid face down on the floor in my office, waiting for my pain meds to kick in, so I could get back to writing. The last of my eye surgeries was January 11th, 2011.

Almost a year went by of me feeling horrible physically. I didn’t move a lot, because I was scared to hurt my eyeballs. I was depressed, I felt awful, but I stayed in grad school. It was the one thing that gave me solace from the pain. I loved the group of women I worked with, and was in class with, and they provided me with so much support. Reading and writing were two things I could do, despite my physical maladies. I bandaged up what was hurting, and I stayed in the game. I said, “I may be hurting, but I’m still here. I may have been knocked down, over and over, but I’m in this to win this, and I won’t quit.” In December of 2011, I had a massive abdominal surgery that left me in chronic pain, pain that persists until today. I’ve had surgery many times since that first one, for kidney stones, for a bowel obstruction, and for the wound that refused to heal.

At this point, it would have been easy to become bitter. I could have blamed my failures on my pain, my body, or other people. I didn’t. I let people know when I was hurting so bad I couldn’t complete assignments, but I never asked to not do the assignment. Sometimes I needed a week extension, sometimes I was past the due date, but I made up my mind to never quit. I saw some people in my program that were so sour, who wanted other people to be unhappy with them. They tried to bring others down. The ladies I surrounded myself with, however, were my rock. I could have hung out with the complainers and joined their pity party. There were definitely always people around me who were quick to grumble, whine, and nit-pick, to say why they couldn’t do this, to make excuses. I will admit – I did let these negative folks into my head a few times. And after I would talk to them, I would feel like I was run over by a bus. I had to actively choose to smile at these people, offer them a word of encouragement, and then go back to my group of girls who cheered me on. If you surround yourself with criticism, self-pity, bitterness, anger, hatred, and discontentment, don’t be surprised when that weighs down your soul. Get back in the game, and find your cheerleaders.

The best thing to do when you hurt is to go help someone else in need. You sow the seed to change your own situation. This is why I love to teach. No one would have faulted me if I had given up. I was injured, but I never left the game. When times were tough, and nothing was going my way, I was still good to the people around me. Even when my eyeballs or my guts hurt, I still treated my students well. And they knew that I loved what I was doing, and many approached me and told me that they were inspired by the fact I never gave up. This world has a great reward for people who are faithful in the tough times. My graduate school experience resulted in me winning the game, because I never gave up, even when it was rough. Because I have paid it forward, by helping students be successful, by cheering on my group of girls, and by giving my work my all, I won that game. Now, I’m on to the next game, The Superbowl that is my life.

I refuse to just exist. I will live. If I had quit, what would I have done? Become disabled? Planned my funeral? That wasn’t even an option. Even when I couldn’t do all the things I wanted to do on my own, I could still offer friendship, hard work, and dedication to the people around me. When you put yourself in the right position, when you coordinate your game plan so that you are in success’s path, that’s when the universe pays you back. You position yourself for good karma. I never stopped searching out new friends, looking for new opportunities, and searching for ways to get past my pain. Grad school was never meant to end a person, even though it may feel that way. It’s meant to be a beginning. An awakening of your spirit, a challenge to your mind, the seed of your dreams. It allows you to have double what you had before.


Nobody knows the battles you fight when you take on this program. When you defy the odds, when you play despite the pain, the most powerful force in the universe breathes in your direction. You may not be able to do what you used to, but the wind fills your sails, and you stay in the game. Just being here, that took an act of faith. Part of the game of academia is its critical nature. It will crush you, if you let it. It’s easy when people are criticizing your ideas to feel as if you are the one who has it all wrong. Eyes on the prize, stay in the game. Keep the game ball moving forward, run with your ideas, allow them to blossom, and take on that fight. No one knows your battles, but everyone knows that you can’t win the battle if you don’t show up in the first place.


My biggest and best quality is the fight I have in me. I never give up. I keep on going, because I love what I do. I allow others to achieve their dreams, and I can’t do that from my bed. I need to be in that game. I need to be a positive role model for my son. I needed to fight.


People can’t look at me and know that I’m in pain. I don’t look sick, even though I’ve been diabetic 30 years and have had all those surgeries. I’ve had people tell me “You don’t look sick. I had no idea,” or “You seem so happy! I had no idea you were in pain!” It’s one thing to go through a struggle that everyone knows about, or can view you going through. But my struggle is all inside me. I struggle with my feelings, with my body, and with figuring out who I am. Despite my pain, I persist. I go to work, I’m kind, friendly and compassionate, I help everyone I can, and I never give up. There is no way I could sit back, nursing my wounds. I’m hurting, but I’m still here. I can still smile, and be kind, even if no one knows what kind of horrible pain my body is in. If I can do this, I have no doubt that other women can get through the game of grad school, too. Play on, despite the pain.

Life is full of tests. To be a doctor, you take many exams through medical school. You take the MCAT to even get into med school. In fact, EVERYONE who goes to med school must pass the MCAT, and almost every US and Canadian medical school requires it. I went and clicked on one of the six topics and skills that are assessed by the test. Just the Biology section had 17 pages of outlined topics you would have had to have studied for YEARS in your undergraduate program. Even as a Biologist myself, there are some topics I would want to go back and review before I’d ever take that kind of test. I am glad that every one of my doctors has had to pass that test, and tests like it, in order to take on the responsibility of being a doctor.


If I want to get into law school, I have to take the LSAT. The LSAT is a standardized test that measures reading skills, analytical skills, and logical reasoning. This test is described as “providing a standard measure of the acquired reasoning and reading skills of law school applicants.” When a student has taken and passed the LSAT, the law school has a reasonable understanding of what this applicant is able to do - read, and reason. I am glad that every lawyer has had to take that test, in order to understand and comprehend the law, and all it's intricacies. 


What, then, do we want from the professionals that are part of our daily lives - our teachers? When I wanted to become a teacher, in Texas, I took the TExES, or the Texas Examination of Educator Standards. As I remember, there were two parts - one part about the subject matter, and one part about understanding teaching. I actually remember the day I took that test. I was living on the Mexican border, and I had to drive to San Antonio for the proctored, secure examination. There were two other teachers with me in the car for the 2 ½ hour drive - one was a teacher’s aide who had completed her coursework, and wanted to move up into a teaching role. The other was an “emergency certified” teacher, like me, except that this was his third time taking the test, and his last try before he would be let go from his teaching position. When you were on an emergency certification (I was, because I had a Biology degree, but no teaching experience. I took all the classes while teaching full time) and you had three years from when you started to pass all the classes, and take the test. If you couldn’t pass the tests, you lost your job.


I had always accepted that this was how the system worked. I was never angry that I had to pass a test. I was never mad at the test, or fearful of the tests. I knew that if I did all the practice tests, reviewed the materials, approached my professors at school about anything I was unclear of, and just took care of business, I’d pass the test. Sure, it wasn’t fun to study. It was tedious. It was boring. It got in the way of some fun stuff I wanted to do on the weekends. But, if I wanted to be a teacher, and I did, I would pass that test. I invited friends over to study. I made binders full of material about each topic, flashcards, even read my study material out loud so I could record it and play it in my car on the way into work. I knew I had it.


(Beware, this paragraph has swearing in it) At the time, I was living with a person who wanted to become a federal agent. He also had to pass a test. He went through 3 months of intense academy to learn to shoot, learn the law, learn the job, and learn Spanish. Then, he had one year from when he started working as a recruit, until he took the test, and would either pass, or get fired from his job. Our attitudes about “the test” were a million miles apart. My attitude was “If I want this job, I take this test. Obviously it’s a test I can pass, because most of my fellow teachers have passed it, so I just need to buckle down and do this.” His attitude was “I hate this f**king test! It’s so unfair that some of these guys are Hispanic, and we are both being tested the same way on if we know Spanish. It’s not fair. If you’re a native speaker, you have an advantage. And what if I’m having a bad day, and can’t shoot? What if I’m sick? What if I can’t remember a stupid little law, or mix it up? I mean, I know the laws in general, but what if they pull out an obscure law and I miss it? This whole test is bulls**t! And my job depends on it! What if I fail, and I have to go get another job? People will know I failed. F**k this, no F**K THIS!!!!”


The closer we got to his year, the more angry, aggressive, and paranoid he got. He didn’t settle in to study - he spent a lot of time bitching with the other recruits. His first topic of conversation at every meeting with another recruit would be “The test… blah.. blah… angry blah.” I noticed that several people, especially the native Spanish speakers, stopped hanging around us. He was mad all the time. He would take his weapon with him everywhere - to the grocery store, to Walmart, to friends’ houses. He treated me in an increasingly hostile manner, because I would ask him if he wanted to study together for our tests, go out to meet new friends I had at the school and their husbands, or go to the gym and exercise (he said all the walking from the job made him miserable and tired). He became known as “Amy’s angry boyfriend.” I made excuses, “He’s just upset about this test. It will pass. He’ll pass the test, and then everything will be fine.” Finally, I broke up with him three months before his test, because I couldn’t live like that. Being surrounded by hostility about the test, anger over studying, constant anxiety about failing, fearfulness about losing a job, and test-aggression was making me physically sick. It was like a disease to all those around us. It weighed on our lives, and broke us apart.


Friends, there are teachers who's attitudes are like mine, and teachers who have an attitude like my boyfriend in your child’s school, who's emotions feed into your child, who are preparing them to take their tests, and ultimately, to graduate. I actually used to be the one designated science teacher who would be assigned every student who hadn’t been able to pass their graduation exam. I worked with these students a period a day, after school, and on Saturdays. I had material for them on EVERY CONCEPT that would be on their tests. I meticulously scoured through old, released graduation tests, figured out which standard the question applied to, and then made mini-tests for my students to take on each assigned topic. I bought them all green highlighters (somewhere I read that if you liked green, you were smart, I don’t know if there is a smart color, but it sounded good) and peppermints (I read that peppermints helped you concentrate), and so any time you came to me for test prep, you got a green highlighter and a peppermint. Somewhere I read that yoga helped people de-stress and focus, so on test days, I would lead my class in yoga pre-test.


One semester I started off with 128 seniors who had failed their senior science graduation exam. I read, re-read, practiced, encouraged, cheer-leaded, and gave them tips and tricks to beating multiple choice tests. I became known as the test whisperer - I could help you pass the test. I knew everything there was to know about that damn test, and I knew how to help students pass it. That year, I got every student to pass except SIX. And I remember those six, very vividly. One girl had such negative talk, that she refused to even read the test. She marked her scantron, and then fell asleep, every time she took the test. She repeated to me often, “I’m a failure. It’s OK, I know I’m not going to graduate. I don’t care anymore.” She set herself up for failure, and no matter what I did, she refused to even try. Another girl refused to speak English. We were on the Mexican border. Even though I never taught in Spanish, I understood it, and she understood me in English, but she would never answer any question in English, no matter what I did. All her other teachers just allowed her to speak Spanish (80% of the teachers on the border are Spanish speaking also), so she refused to do anything but speak Spanish. Another boy was a gang leader, and was only at school to attempt to sell drugs. He was suspended so much that I barely got to see him. When I did have him in class, he was sulking, in a foul mood, and staring into space. He was preoccupied, and wanted nothing to do with me or the class.


Even the best of teachers can’t reach everyone. I consider myself one of the best, most professional teachers there is. I was part of an amazing group of teachers in my department who worked together the make the science experience amazing for our students. And by everything you hear on the news today about students, we should have had utter failure in our school. We had 99% Spanish speaking students. Most of our kids were on free lunch. We had gangs, drugs, students with children, and troubled students. But we all said, “there is no reason we can’t get everyone to pass the graduation tests.” And we were right. We pulled our resources, at our department meeting each week we would each bring our best lessons on a given topic, and then make a plan so that each teacher in the department did that best lesson, and then we revised it together to make it better, make rubric answer keys, make common powerpoints, find labs that worked with that lesson, and made sure it aligned to the standards. We got to be so good at it, that in three years, we went from 39% passing the graduation tests, to 89% when I left the school. We were professionals at getting kids to pass the tests.


And never would I say we “taught to the tests.” We taught everything that was ON the test, sure, but we also got to highlight the topics we loved (one teacher loved plants, and another loved evolution). The labs we did with the students were fun and hands on, and we loved that our lesson planning was a collaborative effort. We never felt alone, because we were professionals who met regularly and took each person’s strengths, and highlighted them. Some days, all the Biology teachers would meet in the lecture auditorium, and bring all their classes of students, and one of the teachers who was really good at the topic would put on an exciting production with multimedia presentations, an outline for the students to take notes, and the other teachers would be out in the “audience,” helping kids who had questions, kids who were sleeping (you all know it happens), or helping students who needed assistance. Mostly, though, these production days were looked forward to by the kids, because it was like watching a concert, with a rockstar teacher leading.


What it took to make this happen was a collaboration between our school, and the UT Charles A Dana Center at The University of Texas in Austin. We did what was called “The Professional Teaching Model.” I plan to write more about it in the future, because it was that program that helped us turn ourselves from troubled, tired teachers, to professional teachers. We were amazing. And it was HARD! But as we all know, teaching is HARD, whether you’re succeeding or failing - so why not make it successful?


And for parents, who would you rather have leading your class? Someone like me, a professional teacher, who is motivating and fun, and hitting every standard and getting your child to pass those tests? Or someone who is constantly bitching about how unfair the tests are, how they hate the standards, and how burnt out and angry they are? A teacher who feels hopeless and angry, or who works with their department and school to be part of a collaborative, professional, efficient, effective team? Who IS your kid's teacher? If you ARE a teacher, who are YOU?


There is a popular author who has a blog that I often see shared who I absolutely despise. I won’t even mention her name, but she’s an educational historian who is what I’d label as a “critical theorist.” She is critical of education, and spends all her time breaking down how bad education is, how bad teachers are treated, how bad politics affect education, how bad the common core is, how bad testing is, and basically how bad EVERYTHING is. She offers no solutions that are feasible. She makes teachers despair even more. She amplifies criticisms, finds faults in the system that she says make it hostile, and writes books to terrorize teachers, and make them afraid. She’s a s**t-stirrer, s**t-flinger, and an irresponsible, critical, worthless hack (in my opinion). And I feel sad for every teacher who climbs on board with her, ready to complain and waste their time fighting against standards. And I plan to write, teach, motivate, and educate until she goes away. I will talk louder, write more, motivate, encourage, and enable success in the profession that I LOVE. Because I believe every school district, every single school, every department, and every teacher is part of this amazing profession called EDUCATION, and that people would prefer to be lifted up, instead of held hopeless to the ground. We all got into this profession to make our lives, the lives of our students, and the education in this country get better. And I, friends, am just getting the ball rolling.


Who’s with me?

Every day, in my email, I get a note from the universe (a personalized thought meant to stimulate me, inspire me, or otherwise make me smile). Some days, similar to reading your horoscope, they don't strike any chord. Often, however, they make me begin my day with a positive direction, with enthusiasm for new things - writing, creating, or dreaming big.

Here is my note today:

If you were able to look back at your most brilliant successes, stunning comebacks, amazing catches, and smokin' ideas, Amy, and you were to find that virtually all of them seemed to materialize out of thin air, when you least expected them, and that they had exceeded even your greatest expectations at the time, how excited would you be about the new year and whatever else I've got up my sleeve? 

Hubba, hubba - 
    The Universe

If you don't get started somewhere, then you'll never make it anywhere. Some of my most brilliant successes - my Master's Degree that I earned on the Mexican Border, my PhD that I finished despite numerous health crises and being a single mom, owning my own home, raising a handsome and well-behaved young man - involve looking into the future and deciding how to live my life NOW.

Putting in the hard work NOW is never the fun thing. Sure, there may be fun moments along the way - I call them EUREKA! moments - but often, the best things in life involve work. Lots of hard, lonely, not fun work.

But when that day finally comes, that you've put in the work,that you've researched the ways to be successful, that you've done all the right things - that day you walk across the stage with a degree, move into that new house, or smile proudly at your awesome child - WOW. Just WOW!!! You know life is worth doing the right things now, and reaping the rewards in the future.

Go for it! What are the steps you can take today, to make tomorrow (and beyond) worth it?