Tag: teaching

For the Love of Handwriting

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

Can you picture in your mind the handwriting of someone close to you?

I can see my dad’s tiny angular script for lists and labeling. I can see my mom’s crisp, legible rounded letters almost connected like cursive (very much like her organized self). I can see my husband’s almost-shorthand with quick letters that make sense to him because he has to take so many notes for work and classes. I can see my own teacher-informed style written on whiteboards and handmade cards with equal parts legibility and could-be-a-font.

I started down this line of thinking because of a piece of paper my youngest daughter brought home form her Kindergarten co-op. I saw her name written at the top by her teacher, who by God’s eternal goodness, happens to be one of my college roommates. Seeing her script at the top of the paper was sort of like the cherry on top as I was already excited about her knowing my daughter as a learner in the classroom.

My roommate was an incredible elementary education major and hearing about all the passion, fun, and child-centered respect she brings to the kids in her class each week reminded me of all the notes we passed back in forth in education classes before the days of cheap personal laptops and WiFi being strong enough to carry the load. I still have shoeboxes of notes and memorabilia in my closet from each year of college, filled with the handwriting of all my friends from those 4 years.

Perhaps what I am encouraging all of us to do is to welcome being surprised by the little joys in life, like handwriting. When the people we love are no more we will hang on to many memories of how their life intersected with ours and one of the most unsuspecting things is through something that is uniquely them — their words scrawled on a piece of paper.

Featured Student Work: Poetry by Charis

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

“Mosaic” 
by Charis

Red, blue, gold, silver.

Shiny, matte, transparent, cloudy.

Rough, smooth, worn, jagged.

Look at all these broken pieces.

They have shattered.

They are useless. 

They are broken.

Abandoned. 

Lost.

Weary.

Afraid.

Alone.

There is no hope,

Not for mere shards,

Not for these.

What now can they produce?

What more can they give?

They lie defective on the ground,

Overlooked by the productive ones.

But defeated pieces have a purpose,

If only they will come together,

Unified

Under something larger than themselves

–Than their brokenness–

A Mosaic.

Different colors, tones, and textures

Now complement each other

Because shattered fragments are beautiful

When mortar binds, cures them together

These lives are changed forever

And create a lovely community.

Now there is hope. 

Red, blue, gold, silver.

Shiny, matte, transparent, cloudy.

Rough, smooth, worn, jagged.

Look at all these broken pieces!

Would you have thought that they could fit together

In such unimaginable, beautiful ways?


From time to time I will feature student work here on the blog (always with their permission). Charis wrote this poem in 2023 after one of our tutoring sessions that involved trying to use vivid imagery. I particularly love her use of punctuation in this poem — the variety brings the words and word-pictures to life! She is a talented writer who has a lifetime of word composing ahead of her.

Bushhogging Your Writing

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

If you’ve never been exposed to the verb bushhoggin’ (which spellcheck says is not actually a verb), it’s a great one, useful as a metaphor for so many scenarios in life.

The word actually came from two words “brush” and “hog” because of the nature of the machine — a tractor attachment that whacks big or stubborn plants like small trees and bushes down by sheer force of a dull rotary blade. To be clear, it’s not a tiller which has sharp blades to disrupt the soil and dig it all up. It is said that a farmer noted the machine worked like a “hog eating brush” and the rest is history.

Jill, the farm manager, has had her neighbor come bushhog our garden area twice before and we got to see it in full action for the spring. She said it’s about time for a summer cleanse against all the pigweed that is growing way too fast. I tell her it’s hard to see the crops get demolished.

The backstory… When I got to the farm this week, I was so overwhelmed by how bad the weeds had gotten in just 3 weeks since we left school. With no one to really help me, I just did what I could, but it still seemed like it was just a jungle of mess — a cluttered room of grass, pigweed, clover, random flowers, fire ant hills. This was the exact opposite of what I experienced in the fall with virtually no weeds to contend with. Ultimately, it seemed that the only logical option was to knock it all down so the plants could decompose (i.e. self-compost) on the land to be ready to plant in August.

But truthfully, I didn’t want it to be bushhogged. I just wanted the monstrous weeds to go away so I could hold on to all the hours of work we put into the kale crops. There are still so many greens that are viable in including some basil near the potatoes and various lettuces scattered about. The okra also has sort of popped up in between the strawberries. I just want to keep bits and pieces of the garden going, but that’s not how a bushhogger works. It’s a HUGE attachment, so it’s more like an all or nothing proposition. If I want a better crop in fall, I have to let go of the work that has been done that is not as fresh or organized as it once was.

Part of this “letting go” work meant relocating the fruiting strawberry plants we cared for so meticulously during the year. I salvaged what ripe berries I could to eat and had to say goodbye to the rest of the small white ones. My daughter and I dug them up after we located each plant in the middle of all the weeds. We then snipped all the runners and replanted them safely in a raised bed Jill donated to us. It took about 2 exhausting hours from wedging the plants out of the garden to watering them generously in their bed at the end. Now, even if they can’t produce anymore fruit this season, they can safely grow next year for my students to eat and tend and perhaps for nature journaling for the students at Ingleside (who use the farm before we get there in the afternoon).

I was telling a close college friend about having to say goodbye to the garden and we started discussing how bushhogging can be like the writing process. You have to be willing to knock down the labor you have already put in if it no longer serves your purpose or it’s got too many weeds. You may have to move your words to a new bed. It’s painful to see the words and imagery get deleted, moved, rearranged, saved for another piece in the future. Bushhogging your words means you will have to do some hard aspects of writing and revising all again.

However, there is a silver lining for both the garden and writing: having the plants decompose doesn’t meant they just die. Rather, through the plants you’re actually enriching the soil for the next go round. As I mentioned in a previous post, the garden already has magic dirt so the plants, through decomposition, are giving back the nitrogen and all the other goodness the soil already provided the plant. When you understand that bushhogging is not a zero sum game, but rather part of the process of enrichment and discipline it’s less heartbreaking and more like a tool to help increase your ability to write better.

But…next year, I also plan to be more proactive in staying on top of the weeds with some new strategies and more help. Learn as you are going, I say!

A Year of Experiments In YouTube Gardening

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

One thing that hobby gardeners don’t like to talk about is the cost. Sometimes it truly feels like your efforts outweigh your yield. That was us for so many years that we just stopped gardening all together when our kids were little. I really regret that I didn’t know to pursue some easier, realistic, cost effective projects during those years.

Now, our kids are little older and able to help and it’s been such a joy to start back up being a little wiser and lot cheaper. For instance, today our third daughter ate the first sugar snap pea out of the plants that our fourth daughter sowed along the chain link fence in our backyard thanks to some internet research. We probably have a 90% germination rate and the crop is about to roll in. It cost us around $2 for the pea packet. And maybe a $1 worth of water. The compost we mixed in was from the bin in the backyard.

The sugar snap peas success got me thinking, “What else could we do cheaply with “ingredients” we already have or are cheap to obtain?” Enter hugelkultur pots. Our college friends from Pennsylvania showed us their raised beds when we were visiting a few years ago and they had an incredible yield! We were wondering if the internet or their Amish neighbors showed them the wisdom of permaculture. Either way, we took the idea to heart and when we built our raised bed in the front, we put in the rotting log pieces from a dead tree we had cut down a few years ago. Following that we put in homemade compost, then soil.

So, since we already knew how to do that with a bed, watching videos on growing potatoes in pots showed me that I could take a similar approach. I had a leftover 10 gallon pot from when my mother in law had brought a hydrangea down one year. I had been using it to store compost, but I used so much of the contents it felt time to repurpose it. See the pictures below: rotting wood, compost, soil, potatoes, more soil, and hardwood mulch. The total outlay was probably $5 between the potting soil and mulch because I already had the rotting wood, compost, and sprouting potatoes. Also, I can use the filled pot again and again after the potatoes are done.

I have NO idea if this potato crop will turn out, but “gardening within your means” is a new challenge I have been pursuing. At the farm for the program we have done all direct sowing and aside from a metal trellis I can keep using year after year and a little bit of mulch for a path, no purchased additives of any kind. It’s literally soil and manure that was already there, watering, and some seed purchasing. I actually considered using cardboard for paths instead of mulch, but was afraid they’d blow away while we’re not there and I hear it kills the soil life underneath, so if I choose to do any, I will try some thin metal anchors to help me use that cheaper method next year.

If you’re looking for a YouTube Gardening channel that is relaxing and helpful, I recommend Huw Richards. He focuses on things like “planting from your pantry” or how to consider many options you have on hand for free compost. His passion for gardening is evident in how he has learned so much from being faithful to do the work and experiment. And he’s Welsh, so a fantastic accent and idyllic scenery as a bonus.

Seasonal Learning

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

One of the books we read each year is called Turning of Days by Hannah Anderson. She has 7 short essays for each season. Her stories are very accessible because they are taken from everyday happenings on her property or in her community. In the very back of her book she has a “Field Guide” section where she discusses some skills to sharpen the reader’s connection to the outdoors. One thing she mentions is seasonal observation. When are things blooming? What’s going on when they bloom early or late or don’t bloom at all?

Our family regularly checks our front and backyard. We have a quarter acre lot, so while a limited area keeps the management of plants easy, it also means perennials can eat up that space. However, I love having plants that I can count on year after year*. My family and I can stroll by the beds and because we know where to look, we can know the plant names and watch the seasons unfold together year after year.

Here are some of the lovely things in bloom for April in my Tennessee neck of the woods.

*I know the sugar snap peas among these pictures aren’t perennials, but I will definitely keep planting them in this spot each year, so close enough!

Gardening Trial and Error

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

Saying “we’re going to learn together” can be a scary thing for an adult to say. We are so conditioned to be arbiters of knowledge. I think it’s a double scary thing for teachers to say. Unless you’ve been trained by programs that have a child-centered focus, people expect you have the answers, show up, and deliver the product. Maybe that’s why I have enjoyed teaching writing more and more — there are so many ways to get to the finish line* and the work doesn’t come exclusively from me.

I’m discovering that teaching gardening is rather similar.

This year we are tinkering with plants I have never tried to garden: sugar snap peas. I remember helping plant them on the farm with Jill and a handful of farm enrichment students last year. However, it was more like supervising. She had already started the plants in the greenhouse and had the trellis ready for staking. The plants grew well and the Maple Key girls harvested a ton of them on the last day of our program in May.

So on the same plot we are trying to grow sugar snaps once again, but we chose to directly sow them and are using a red collapsible trellis.


I was so inspired by this opportunity my daughter and I even planted some along the corner of the back corner of our chain link fence (natural trellis!) at home.

As I mentioned, I have never grown sugar snaps peas, so I did some research and am hoping for the best. Depending on what website or YouTube channel you look at you get SO many different ways to have a successful crop. One person swore by pre-planting indoors and transplanting to the garden. Another person said the exact opposite — sowing directly was better for the roots than transplanting. Some suggest pre-soaking the beans before you plant them (chose to do this) and adding an inoculant to the beans as a microbial additive to help nitrogen processing (chose not to do this).

At first all this conflicting advice was aggravating, but then I was reminded about all the conflicting advice we received about our winter garden and it miraculously survived and thrived. Gardening is a chance to explain to the girls that we can do our research, but ultimately we just experiment, make the best decision we can with what we’ve got, and see what happens. The opportunity to be surprised or fail is much better than thinking you’re going to nail it because you know so much. Gardening helps brings into view a more humbling, realistic view of ourselves and the rhythms of life!

Another thing I learned about this year was “seed tape”. You can purchase it pre-made or you can get a roll of toilet paper and seeds to try it yourself. It helps keep the plants in a straight line, avoids thinning, and prevents using a ton of seeds. When I asked the girls about seed tape, no one knew what I was talking about, so we made some at Maple Key for them to try at home. I did also buy some at Ace Hardware and planted it now in February to see how that will turn out in 60 days. We’re in zone 7, so it’s a gamble but an inexpensive one.


Here’s to experimenting!

*To be clear, I don’t know that I believe there is a “finish line” when you write, but there is often a point where you have to turn in the paper or manuscript and stop tinkering.

Taking ChatGPT For a Spin

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

I did it. I caved. I read too may articles not to. Whether people in my profession like it or not, chatbots are changing the writing landscape and teachers and professors are adapting to the new technology seemingly overnight.

My husband’s cousin says its great for generating content for his IT newsletter. It has saved him time and energy and he can tweak it by asking it to do more specific things. My husband (whose co-workers generally have grad degrees or more) said that they have used it to generate blog post titles and the suggestions have actually been pretty solid. I have seen articles interviewing realtors who say it saving them a ton of time on content creation. I have seen it suggested that ChatGPT is also a fantastic “study buddy” who can help generate questions on a topic you’re going to be tested on. It does seem to have many uses in field of writing, so I tried to see if it could title a blog post I had been thinking about composing.

They all sounded like clickbait. So I gave it some feedback and its responses were way better!

I settled on #5 and then asked it to write a blog post based on the title. That’s where it got interesting.

Its first attempt read like a Wikipedia article — factual and logical but devoid of any voice. I suggested it give me more sophisticated syntax and poetic style. Its next attempt was markedly better in style, but still too broad. I said I needed more specific stories or narratives to incorporate into the ideas of the piece. It gave an example of “cooking grandmother’s lasagna” but that’s about as close as it got to being relatable. I asked it to write more like the New Yorker. It just shuffled sentences and paragraphs around. I asked it to write like The Atlantic and it did the same thing. In frustration I finally said “this needs to be more literary” and it just couldn’t do it.

What are my conclusions? Nothing definitive because my understanding is that these bots are only going to evolve and get smarter the more we use them and tinker. It seems to have the 5-paragraph-essay (blech!) down to a science, but it could not create a unique voice. I wonder how long that will last? Let’s just say, for now I am going to keep writing my own blog posts!

Becoming Placed

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

If you haven’t had the chance to meet Jill, you should. She’s the property manager for her family’s farm (High Point Farms) where Maple Key is located. She is by far and away one of the most generous people I have ever met. Hers is the kind of generosity that is rooted in interdependence, a true and mutual joy in sharing life and resources together.

Jill has been the incubator for countless other people like me including Morgan at Creekside Flowers, who got her business started at High Point. As a side note: Before starting Maple Key, I worked for the tutorial that meets at the farm on M- Th and driving in each morning my girls and I would see Morgan working hard on maintaining the health of her plants. I know she learned a lot from Jill, who also raises flowers for weddings and for individual sale. Hearing Morgan’s story (delivered impeccably, I might add) was inspiring and reminded me a lot of getting Maple Key off the ground. You play, tinker, research, and experiment when you don’t know how to do something.


Such has been the case with our late fall garden this year.

Jill suggested that we start a garden this year and I told her I would need help. My vague cries for direction were met with her voluntarily having a portion of land tilled by the tractor and two big piles of manure from the animals on the farm waiting for us. She even called her neighbor, Joel, who lives a mile up the road from her to come get us started with the garden. I laughed when she said she told him we needed a lot of help because we didn’t know anything 🙂

He came out to the farm as promised and skeptical though he was, worked with us for 3 hours (barefoot!) with no breaks talking to us about soil health and the basics of working with minimal tools and dirt since we clearly didn’t have a plan. After we marked off our lines, we used the seeder to ensure a straight row of plants. We watered it heavily and Joel prayed over the land.

Doing all this work in mid October (instead of August like the internet suggested we should have), we had no idea if the 2 month drought and coming cold snap would ruin our crop, but lo and behold we kept coming back to a new surprise of growth each week.

We only used one-third of the area Jill gave us to grow plants because Joel told us not to bite off more than we could chew. He was right in that trying to weed and harvest that much would have taken more time than we have in our 4 and a half hours each week. We did add some strawberries donated by one of our families though.

The time finally came when we had our last day at the farm for December. We decided to harvest some radishes, kale, and stray turnips greens that ended up in the other rows. It was more than a complete success. We have more food than we know what to do with, so this year we’re using it in our homes and giving it away to friends. Perhaps in the future we can still enjoy it for ourselves and friends while also selling it to give the proceeds to charitable organizations the girls research or fundraise for a special project.

Either way, there is such profound gratitude in seeing the Lord’s provision and work of your hands.


When it comes to risk, I like to think of myself as being a cautious personality. However, the constructive criticism I hear from other people is that I tend to underestimate what yield could come from faithfulness. I can definitely be like the servant in Matthew 25 that buries his talent and convinces himself he’s being a good steward. My faith in many areas of life is lacking because I hedge my bets to avoid the pain of embarrassment or loss. Modest success is better than no success, right? Reading one of my favorite naturalist authors, Robin Wall Kimmerer, helps me to see a path forward in demonstrating responsibility to something other than just keeping my ego safe. She says in her book, Braiding Sweetgrass:

“Being naturalized to place means to live as if this is the land that feeds you, as if these are the streams from which you drink, that build your body and fill your spirit. To become naturalized is to know that your ancestors lie in this ground. Here you will give your gifts and meet your responsibilities. To become naturalized is to live as if your children’s future matters, to take care of the land as if our lives and the lives of all our relatives depend on it. Because they do.”

When I showed my husband the pictures each week, he kept saying, “That dirt must be magic!” Though I know he was kidding, the truth is the dirt has been cared for for decades. They don’t use pesticides. Their compost is fresh. They make sure the pH balances. It is also reasonable to assume that the land was cared for by the Cherokee, a vital part of the history of this land.

The garden has reminded me how much part of “becoming placed” as essayist Wendell Berry says, means growing to love an area through being fully present and acting in faith and commitment to its history of care.

Coach 4 Life

Posted on by Rachel Lonas

Because I believe in asset based approaches, I recently took a strength finders test.

My top 5 were:

– Coach (supports others’ growth; dislikes wasted potential)
– Philomath (loves learning; dislikes know-it-alls)
– Strategist (sees big picture; dislikes slow decision makers)
– Catalyst (generates momentum from stagnation; dislikes wasted time)
– Brainstormer (idea generator; dislikes closed-minded people and practices)

In other words, I can get a lot done in short amount of time, but I really like to see the long term growth.


I was discussing this with my oldest daughter on the way home from a rainy cross country meet in Nashville. Her sisters were almost finished with their fall sports season with incredibly gifted and kind coaches. I told her my personality was definitely built like a coach and she was confused.

“I thought a coach was someone who screams at their team when they don’t do well after a game.”

I told her, who hasn’t had much sports experience, that unfortunately, some coaches do that but that her ideas were largely formed by TV sports tropes; coaches come in many shapes, sizes, and volume levels. I explained that life coaches don’t yell, but help adults stay on track to meet their goals. I said that asset-focused teachers are coaches because they know that they are only partly responsible for the results; the students is the one who must exercise their agency and make choices to propel their own growth.

She responded, “So you mean like an encourager?”

Exactly.

I have had those coaches that demeaned the players and being a sensitive child who had little tolerance for injustice, I was always demotivated and angry at them. I am thankful that organizations have moved toward placing the child’s needs above the competition through modeling community spirit. Seeing this posted on my old sports league’s website gives me hope that the community will hold itself (and all its coaches) to a higher standard and that’s just good for everyone.

I will never embarrass my child or [this organization] by verbally abusing/insulting participants, coaches, board members, other parents or officials.

Also, I understand that the stands are NOT the place to shout personal instruction.

If something occurs with which I disagree, I will calmly seek an appropriate solution, at the appropriate time.

I understand that instigating or participating in a confrontation in front of any child is NEVER appropriate and will not be tolerated.

I will never lose sight of the fact that I am a role model. I understand that children imitate their role models and by acting appropriately.

I will be modeling what I expect of my child as well as influencing others in the program.

When I look for people to help with Maple Key, I look for coaches though I don’t want their leadership profile to look just like mine. With the unique skills God has given them, these tutors see what can be when the girls in Maple Key learn over time the habits that are worthy of pursuit while knowing that making mistakes is a part of the cycle of growth.

Come to the Potluck!

Posted on by Rachel Lonas
Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com

An opportunity presented itself this fall at our church. We have been looking for practical ways to engage our community and after much discussion, being able to teach financial literacy to low-income participants made the most sense. I signed on to be the facilitator for the group which means I will help everyone engage the content every week. Each participant in the program will have an “ally” who comes alongside them as new concepts are shared and practiced. Everything about this program is based in best educational practices which affirm the dignity and worth of everyone in the room, so I love this program on a number of levels:

– Teaches basic money management skills, not just focusing solely on wealth accumulation
– Focuses on interdependence — allies, participants, and facilitators are are on equal ground (i.e. no hierarchy — everyone has something to bring to the “potluck”)
– Explains that people’s life outcomes are not just the sum of their choices and that broken systems do exist
– Dialogue and movement based education, not lecture style
– Encourages fellowship around a meal as often as is possible

Now, as a disclaimer, my husband works for the organization that runs this program, so I have been hearing about all of these principles for years. Not surprisingly, this training confirmed something I know very well about myself — it’s so easy for me to load up on book knowledge and have ZERO experiential knowledge. When I hear from the other people in my training cohort, many of whom work with consistently work alongside clients who can benefit from this, I realize I am handicapped by knowing all the “right answers”, but have never seen this program played out before in real life. In many ways, they and their clients have a greater understanding of this content than I do because they have felt it in their bones; the ups and downs of difficult financial circumstances live in their bodies. Meanwhile, I have a heart to serve, but am often stuck in my head with a financial safety net.

Honestly, I am excited to learn from the participants because I know too many people who are quick to invalidate experiential knowledge as a legitimate way of knowing things. If it didn’t happen to them or someone close to them it doesn’t count. What deeper understandings do we miss when we don’t listen to peoples’ stories? Can we acknowledge that we’re all broken and gifted in different ways and one kind of brokenness or giftedness is not superior to another?

My training to become a facilitator reminds me that one of my goals for Maple Key is to always have learning from one another in the forefront as a means of grace and understanding in all the activities we pursue.