Dear Students,

I was asked to write a "letter to students" as a course assignment.  The letter below is what flowed out when my hands began to type.  I submitted it to my professor and read it aloud to my classmates, but you, dear students, are the real audience.  I know that most of you will never see letter, but I hope that by sharing it here on my blog, some of you might have the opportunity to read these words intended just for you.   

To each and every one of you—I am writing this letter, because I want to say thank you.

My tiniest little dancers--Club Body Co, 2004

Thank you for inspiring me.  You are the reason I do what I do.  I could not imagine a more rewarding way to spend my days.  I know that there are many other journeys I could have chosen.  Yet, when I think about the other career paths I once imagined for my life, I am confident that none of them could be as fulfilling as being an educator.  Every day, I am inspired by the things you say, the things you accomplish, and the things you teach me.  My paycheck will never measure up to that of a doctor, lawyer, or even a politician, but thanks to you I will always have purpose, I will always have passion, and I will always be rich.

A few of my 5th graders--CES, 2005

Thank you for challenging me.  You’ve helped me learn how to stand up for what I believe in and to be a voice for those without one.  You’ve taught me what it means to overcome.  You’ve made me want to be a better teacher and a better person.  You make me want to aim higher.  You make sure than I never stop learning and that I never stop wanting to learn.  You ensure that I set goals and follow through with them, and you are always my biggest cheerleaders.  Your support means more than you could ever imagine.

Marathon congratulations from my 8th grade fan club--FSDB DMS, 2011

Thank you for being honest.  You keep it real, and I appreciate that.  You tell me when my outfit is “way old school”, my hair is “outta control”, my drawings are terrible, or my lessons are totally boring.  Sometimes your honesty is tough to swallow, but that’s okay—because it means even more when you pay me that rare compliment.  You’ll never know how much it means...when you tell me that you love my read alouds, when you tell me that you used to hate poetry but now you sorta-kinda-almost like it, or when you tell me, with tears in your eyes, that you’re going to miss our class next year. 

One of my readers--FSDB DMS, 2010

Thank you for trusting me.  Most of us begin the year as strangers, but soon enough we begin to build relationships.  We argue, we laugh, we cry, and we share our lives.  This takes courage. And it isn’t just me that you trust.  You trust each other.  The writing we do, the discussions we have, and the community we create would never be possible without your willingness to be vulnerable.  I admire you for that.  It isn’t easy.  I know. 

My crazy 7th & 8th graders--FSDB DMS, 2012

Thank you for making me smile.  I won’t lie--there are days when being an educator isn’t easy.  In fact, most days are difficult.  I don’t remember many days in the classroom that haven’t included some sort of challenge.  And yet, I cannot recall a day devoid of happiness.  When I’ve had a bad morning, you always have a story that brightens my day.  When I’m up late grading papers, your unintentionally hilarious stories make me laugh out loud.  And when I see you accomplish the goals you hadn’t always believed to be possible, I cannot help but smile and forget about all the struggles. 

Silly 8th Grade Girls in the National Sculpture Garden--FSDB DMS, 2011

Thank you for giving me hope.  I often hear adults grumbling about the youth of today.  But you have showed me that things aren’t always as they seem.  Your curiosity is proof that you want to learn.  Your kindness and compassion show me that you really do care.  Your perspectives challenge me to view the world in a new way.  You are the teachers of tomorrow—and that doesn’t scare me, because you’ve already taught me so much.  I believe in you, and I always hope that you know that. 

A few of my cottage girls at Ijams--TSD, 2007

Thank you for making me proud.  The time I have with you is always far too short.  After a year or two, you or I move on.   I once thought that meant that you would no longer be “my kids” and I would never know what you went on to accomplish, but I was wrong.  I’ve watched you chase your dreams...from joining the soccer team, to joining the circus.  I’ve witnessed your graduations from elementary school, middle school, high school and for some—even college.  And although I don’t want to admit that many of you are no longer “kids”, I’ve seen photographs of your weddings and your children.  And I couldn’t be prouder—of the things you’ve done, the things you’re doing, and the things you will do.  You amaze me.

Varsity Cheerleaders at NC State Camp--ACHS, 2005

I’m writing this letter because I want to say thank you.  Thank you for inspiring me, for challenging me, for being honest, for trusting me, for making me smile, for giving me hope, for making me proud, and most of all, for being you.  You have taught me far more than I could ever teach you.  And I couldn’t be more grateful. 

The 8th grade crew at Gallaudet--FSDB DMS, 2011

Thank you from the bottom of my heart,

Jen
(aka--Miss Jen/KP/Coach KP/Miss KP/Miss Kilpatrick) 

A Borrowed Poem

The Minimum Wage in Haiti is Five Dollars a Day

If you read my last post, you know I'm raising money for a missions trip to Haiti.  I have about a month until the total is due and I have just over $1,000 left to raise.  I'm so thankful to all of my family and friends who have donated so far.  I'm more than blessed to have people to partner with me in this mission.  I am so grateful to each of the persons who have already chosen to support me financially...but there is one donation I got this week that touched me the most.

It wasn't the amount of the donation that made it so special.  It was the person behind the donation.  When I saw the name, I was overwhelmed--with surprise, with gratefulness, with honor.  It meant more to me than I could ever explain to you or to the young lady who gave a gift of $5 to support my trip.

I haven't seen this person for over 6 years.  I didn't ask her to support my trip.  I didn't send her an e-mail, a message, or a letter in the mail personally notifying her of my plans to go to Haiti...but she saw one of my Facebook posts about my trip and decided she wanted to give.  And I couldn't be more thankful.

Why did it touch me so deeply?  Because she is one of my "kids".    Once upon a time, she was cheerleader, and I was her coach.  No she's not a kid (anymore).  In fact, she has a 5-year old kid of her own and is about the same age I was when I became her coach.  But my cheerleaders, my dancers, my campers, my students....they will always be my "kids" and I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to call them that.  To have one of them partner with me to help me fulfill a dream of mine means the world to me.

No, $5 isn't a lot of money in the United States.  You probably spent more than that on coffee,dinner, or the movies this weekend.  But if just one-sixth of my Facebook friends gave $5, my trip to Haiti would be more than paid for.  That's such a powerful thought.  Sometimes we're fooled into thinking that we can't make a difference.  We think that we can't do or give enough to make an impact.  But we all have the power to make a change.  If we were all to live our lives believing this simple truth, we would see that we can all make an impact greater than we could ever imagine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you know that the minimum wage in Haiti is $5/day?
What did you spend $5 on today?

Consider making a difference with the next $5 you spend by supporting my trip to Haiti.  https://my410bridge.org/jkilpat1

Haiti: Beyond the Headlines

(Alone, we can do so little. Together we can do so much.)

In January of 2010, a 7.0 earthquake focused the world's attention on the poorest country in the western hemisphere. The devastation was sobering. Over 200,000 Haitians died and 1.5 million people were left without homes. In the days and months following the disaster, humanitarian aid arrived from countries around the globe. Three years later, the headlines have faded, but the needs are still great. This is a story you are likely familiar with.

But there's another story you probably have not heard...Amidst the chaos following the earthquake, a large group of deaf individuals gathered near Port-au-Prince. Without access to the announcements regarding aide, these individuals were among the most vulnerable. They struggled to find enough food and water to survive. But they were determined, they worked together, they formed a community, and they survived. In 2011, the Red Cross replaced the tents they had lived in for over a year with temporary transition structures. Then, in January of 2012 with the help of the Haitian government, Mission of Hope, and The 410 Bridge a permanent community was established. This community, comprised of 500 families, is located in the village of Leveque, located one hour north of Port-au-Prince. Deaf leaders have risen up, homes are being built, construction has commenced on a church building, clean water is now flowing, and adult literacy classes have begun. Much progress has been made, but the story is not over. When the community is complete, there will be housing for 150 deaf families, a community center, a primary school, roads, and more. 

This summer, the 410 Bridge is sending a team of deaf educators from the United States to partner with the efforts in Leveque. I am thrilled to have a chance to be a part of this work, but I can't do it alone. The trip will cost over $2,000, and I have just under 6 weeks to raise this money. I am asking that you consider partnering with me in this mission. You can do this by giving a donation on my fundraising website and by praying for me and my team as we prepare to go.

A Consolation Prize

I miss the beaches and warm weather of Florida--A LOT!  But East Tennessee does have a few consolation prizes.  This morning, as I waited in the drive-thru line at Chic Fil A, I couldn't help but  take this picture.  Sure I miss my ocean sunrises, but I love that trees like this surround me all day.  I'm on a mission to enjoy every color and moment of Autumn.  It really is my favorite season.  It really is beautiful.  And I really have missed it these last four years.

Autumn

I’ve always loved Autumn.

Jeans, sweaters, boots

Friday night football games

Bonfires and S’Mores

Cider and Pumpkins

Corn Mazes and Haunted Houses

And of course, the breathtaking fall foliage

It’s always Autumn when thoughts of you,

like the leaves swirling in the breeze,

flutter around me beyond my control.

Memories of our days together

span the four seasons.

But It’s always this time of year,

when I miss you the most. 

Two October nights,

bookends to our time together,

play through my mind

like pictures of an outdated filmstrip.

You and me,

just two of the many teenagers

on a crowded bus

headed to Scaremare.

You-a deaf guy,

looking for someone to talk to.

Me-a shy girl,

working on her 9th grade homework.

You ask for paper,

I oblige.

You ask my name,

and I reply.

Two hours, over a hundred miles,

and countless pages later

a friendship is forged.

You and me

Just two of the many people

in a parking lot

leaving a revival service

You-a deaf guy,

unabashedly calling my name.

Me-a shy girl,

smiling as I stop to turn

You run towards me,

I wait.

You hug me tightly,

and I’m safe.

Several goodnights, twenty-four hours,

and one phone call later,

you’re gone—forever.

Fourteen years have passed

without you in my life.

Still you live on

in the memories,

especially this time of year.

I’ve always loved Autumn. 

...journey...

"Embrace the past.  Hope for the future.  But always live for the journey."

~Jen Kilpatrick

I know I'm not the first person to say these things, so I can't take any real credit for this saying.  These words, basically, just sum up the thoughts of some wise souls, who have gone before me.  Nevertheless, I like to refer to this quote as my mission in life.  I've always found that it's easiest to love your life (aka--be happy) when you are able to do these 3 things.  Of course, like all things...this is much "easier said than done".  

The first year or so that I lived in Florida, I had a difficult time following my own advice...particularly the part about enjoying the journey.   I could spend a lot of time detailing how I forgot that joy shouldn't be dependent upon circumstances or how I thought (and chased after) certain things (that I thought) would make me happy...but that's not the point of this post.  (You can read more about one of the lessons I learned from some of those experiences here.)  While I often admit that it was one of the hardest years of my life, I truly am thankful for the things I learned about God, about myself, and about life during that time. 

By May 2010 a lot had changed in my life.  I had bought a house, I had been given a classroom position, I had ended a relationship, and somewhere along the way I had found my joy.  I found myself thankful for the lessons (Embrace the past-check) and truly loving life (Enjoy the journey-check. ) But I realized that for the first time ever I honestly had no vision (Hope for the future-I knew I forgot something)  And I began to pray that God would give me new dreams.  (You can read more about that realization and prayer here.)

During that summer God really started to put it on my heart that I wanted to teach at the college level in the future.  By the time fall came I was confident that this was something I wanted for my future.  That semester I decided to apply to the Masters in Literacy program at UNF, knowing that I was hoping to one day pursue a PhD in Literacy.  What I didn't know was how soon that day would come.  

I can't even begin to explain all that has happened in the last 2 years. I have learned so much through 

• my coursework at the University of North Florida.
• an unexpected position teaching sign language to adults online.
• my experiences leading the Deaf ministry at Celebration.
• administrative and environmental changes at work.
• an opportunity that ultimately wasn't for me, but happened for great reason.
• lots of advice and encouragements from amazing mentors in my life.

and, of course,

• lessons from my students, who are always the best teachers.

In less than 2 years, God has given me a hope for the future that is exceedingly, abundantly above anything I could have imagined.  Not only has my vision for my destiny grown, but God's provision has been made clear through an amazing opportunity to follow my (new-found) dreams much sooner than I had planned.  

A month from now I will be standing on a stage issuing congratulations to my 8th graders, who will be moving on to high school.  And I will be keenly aware that I, too, will be moving on.  As this chapter of my life comes to a close, I know that I may never again teach deaf students in the classroom--a job that was, for me, a dream come true.  While goodbyes are always hard, I know that I am where I am supposed to be in life.  I am thankful for all of the moments that brought me this far, I am excited for what lies ahead, and I am loving every moment.  To put it simply--I am happy.  

"Embrace the past.  Hope for the future.  But always live for the journey."