One day to be easy. That's all I ask. And it's asking too much.

I took today off. Yesterday, as I sat in my desk chair and looked around my room I felt so... defeated.

My kids had cried all day. Tears were being shed left and right. The teasing was out of control. I got bit on the hand by an upset student. Bit. by a third grader. It shocked me more than anything. I was in total disbelief that I needed to be aware of biting. Students punched, students hit, students yelled, students teased, students bullied, students slept, students cried and there was me. Standing up there battling to teach all while recognizing that the emotions that spilled over from whatever happened in their little lives this weekend... I realized this battle was over and I was the loser. Defeated.

The room wasn't a mess, but as I looked around I could see where one kid had sat earlier with her head tucked crying because another had just socked her in the stomach. I saw another child in the opposite side of the room picking her nose and rubbing her boogers on other students as they cringe and yell at her to stop. She laughs. I'm appalled. Another child is doing the same thing near her. They both find it funny now. In the middle of the room sits another child who grabs my arm, only for me to realize that she had been sucking on her hand or something because it is soaking wet. When I tell her that's gross and I don't appreciate it, she just looks up and grins.... because in her world it's comical. I wonder when I will ever transform from a babysitter to a teacher. I wonder how I'll get through the rest of the year.... and then another.

Sometimes life out here catches up with me and I have to stop and take a moment. As I sit here, I listen to the silence in my apartment and smile. It's a sound I've missed for so long. When you look out over the frozen tundra, you can see for miles and the world seems so peaceful. When you look into my classroom, the contrast is transparent. I am startled by the stark differences.

In my head, as I tried so desperately to fall asleep last night, all I could think was: For once, I just need one day - one day - that's all I ask - one day to be easy. The reality is that no one's lives out here are easy, not even just for a day. My life is proving to be no different.

Jenny and I walked to the store the other day and I took pictures of life out here. My children sleep in hurting houses that are often unfinished and crowded. I claimed to be taking pictures of the snowdrift, but in actuality I was taking pictures to show you what life is like in this part of 'America.'

Not all houses are like this, but a vast majority are. It's incredible to think about how people live in these houses in such harsh conditions. People are cold, but they survive. Amazing.

I recently wrote in my journal: I don't want life to be 'normal.' I want to feel it. I want it to remind me every so often that yes, this is it and this is worth it. And I do exist. I want to feel the highs and lows. I want to have to hold on tight at some points while feeling my hair blow in the breeze behind me at others. I.want.to.feel.life.

I'm holding on tight right now, but come June when I'm sitting in on the beach at Folly, that breeze will sure feel nice.

To those of you remembering to feel and not just live, I raise my Cherry Coke.

Cristina