These, Our Lives...

Celeste and I wake up every morning between 5:15-5:45. I'm usually up by about 5:15 to give me ample time to read. Right now I'm in the middle of "Founding Brothers" by Joseph Ellis (which won the Pulitzer Prize in 2001, FYI). I eat a few bowls of cold cereal, do a few pull-ups, then get showered and ready for the day. Celeste usually packs our lunches, which are almost exclusively assembled from leftovers from the night before. Grilled chicken and rice is always on the menu.

We're at school before 7:00. The drive from Oxford to Henderson is short - about 10 minutes - and is usually complimented by a stunning sunrise over the kudzu and pine tree alleys. We usually listen to NPR (or National Communist Radio, as my father-in-law would call it) and get our fill of the current events. Absent from this year's daily drives is the overwhelming panic in our hearts that used to nearly cripple us as we'd approach each new day. It's been replaced by some strange sensation that we're still getting used to. I think they call it peace of mind.


When the kids arrive, Celeste and I become experts in the fields of American History and Earth Science. I tell my kids that Columbus isn't necessarily the hero their previous teachers made him out to be, and Celeste fills their head with crazy ideas like the earth is billions of years old. Pshhh...where's that in the Bible? This week I get to teach about the Boston Massacre and the American Revolution. Celeste is moving on to plate tectonics. You can even check out her class website at http://nvhsearthscienceolsen.wikispaces.com. Celeste's students use that website everyday because they've each been issued laptops by the school as part of a 1-to-1 initiative. Pretty cool stuff.

When the bell rings at the end of the day, I put on my coaching hat and hardcore sunglasses to make me look tough next to the other coaches. All of them played college football. All are 250 lbs. or more. All are black. All have arms thicker than my waist. What I lack in size, I make up for with confidence, football know-how, and that big golden championship ring I got in high school for being the 3rd string quarterback when my team took state. Good times.


While I'm out on the field yelling my throat soar, Celeste is usually in her classroom, helping kids keep up or catch up in her academically rigorous course. She's a tough one, that Celeste, but she follows her stern disposition and high expectations with empathy and compassion, and is more willing than most teachers to go the extra mile to help a student in need.

When practice is over, Celeste picks me up (we still carpool everyday, and still only have the one car) and together we head back to Oxford. Where we once came home to several more hours of work and lesson planning for the next day, this year we've been able to enjoy our evenings together, doing any number of activities: cooking elaborate meals, hanging out with friends, or going to sleep before the sun sets. We still have the occasional evening where the demands of our jobs require our attention, but it's a far cry better than what it was last year. We also have church duties that require a lot of our time and attention, but the thought of giving God more time and service doesn't bother us. I go to meetings, do service projects, play the piano a lot, and Celeste gets to teach cute little primary kids.



We close each night with a prayer of thanks, grateful to God for such wonderful lives. We make a living out of making living better for others. We get paid to improve the lives of others, in a very real, tangible way. That's feels good. Really good. It's a feeling I've got to chase.