My Personal Journey Towards Creating The Philosophy

Dear Diary,
Here I thought it would never come! I am leaving for college tomorrow. Emotions are
high but I am excited to expand and further my perspective of the world. Loud girl from a small,
quiet town entering the big city of Brotherly Love. I can feel it. Its where I belong. It is where I
will find myself, confident that my lifelong career goal and college in Temple Dentistry will
beautifully unfold. My future has never looked so bright and am set on the road to exploration.
With high school behind me, I realize that the learning and growing has yet to begin. Here I go,
certain of my choices, my path, my journey. Now, lets just hope I like my roommate. Until next
time.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: There will forever be new doors of opportunity waiting
to open your eyes to possibilities that you never knew existed.
______________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
Between classes, open lab, thirsty thursdays, and late night fourth meal I can honestly say
the diary has collected some dust. College is eye opening. My narrow minded ways of thinking
have expanded and exploded to make room for new ideas, people and culture. It is like I see
more color in the world than before. I share a room with a mennonite who broke free from her
authoritarian religious beliefs to become the first woman of her family to not only receive a
higher education but to be offered a full scholarship. I took a women's study class and had the
pleasure of meeting my first lesbian in the flesh as well as the other 45 in the seminar. I eat
lunch with a beautiful black dancer who has spent summers in Bali practicing yoga, deep
meditation and spiritual healing. My heart feels full knowing all the new love I have found in the

five by five block immersed in North Philadelphia. Now, while I passionately write about all my
breathtaking moments I have ever so luckily stepped into, there was one in particular that truly
took my breath away and that diary is why I am writing.
It all began on a rainy night in April. Rain anywhere in April makes me angry. Rain in
the city, crossing Broad for my Thursday night class really struck a nerve. I had about two
minutes to go almost 4 blocks under sheets of rain that literally began to drown me. This class
was killer and each second I waited for the stale green to change I got more annoyed at the beads
of water dripping off my nose and knowing my mascara was running. I looked left, right and
made the quick executive decision to do what I like to call the city sprint. Two things that I
quickly, mid-dash forgot go together just about as good as napping after a Starbucks trip, white
intersection lines and precipitation. Before I knew it my feet were up in the air as my arms
frantically swung about looking for anything to lighten the blow that was soon coming. I hit the
pavement slowly, than fast and hard all at the same time. Without looking up, I swiftly regained
balance and continued my walk not sure what hurt more, my butt or my ego. I got to class
soaked, cold, yet humbled. I defeated my first real fall. I was still alive, still learning and despite
being gravely vulnerable I was confident this wouldnt be the first time I had to deal with soaked
socks and a nasty bruise. You are thinking what is the point of this story? Well, as I walked
home still air drying I decided it was only fair to have a small self-celebration for the night I
endured. When in doubt always choose chocolate. I head into seven eleven, pick out a sleeve of
Dove Dark Chocolate squares and a chocolate milk smiling as I head to the counter handing the
cashier my credit card. She looks at me and I vaguely make out her words...she is now staring. I
wonder how bad my mascara looks from my earlier endeavors. I look around and she repeats
herself and the words are strangely similar to your card is declined. She is lying, talking to

someone else. I begin to worry I have someone elses card. Maybe I accidentally gave her my
driver's license. She swiped it wrong, too fast, backwards. She tries again and I see the words
bold faced on the register head. Panic sets it along with vague feelings of confusion, shock and
disappointment. Again, my head is down as she slowly places the card back into my hand and
slides the chocolate duo across the counter for re-stock. I call my dad in tears telling him my
story as he quietly giggles and breaks the news...I believe the words of the father were, Hunny,
good news is you are beautiful even as a wet drowned rat. Bad news is you are in fact broke.
Time to get a job bubs. I got home, changed and got in bed staring at the ceiling with no more
tears left as I self-loathed in despair. Diary, dont tell anyone but that night I fell asleep
upset...not because I was told I needed to get a job but more because I really wanted the
chocolate.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Morals: When it rains it pours so learn how to feel the rain
instead of just getting wet. Always be stocked in the area of chocolate for times of despair and be
ready to get the wind knocked out of you at any and all times.
______________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
The rain inevitably got me to fall, which led me to get back up taller and stronger. That
Thursday night was the beginning of a new journey that led to many more full days of sunshine
and dry, warm socks. Through some class friends I got a job with a mentorship program that
hired college students to work with underprivileged adults with disabilities. I had absolutely no
idea what I was doing but the job description required charismatic, patient and outgoing people
who are willing to explore the city, create friendships and help others find confidence. I was
assigned Tanea, a 28-year-old woman who had both learning and intellectual disabilities. I did

not know what that meant other than knowing it would require me to find creative ways to
connect with her. The second I sat down with Tanea I knew this moment in life would be one
that stood out. Frozen in time, engraved forever. The moment we shared was small, nothing
particularly notable happened however it was the wave of comfort I was overcome with. She
immediately embraced me and I found comfort in her. We became friends...we gossiped about
boys, I taught her how to order a Starbucks Frappuccino and count change. I helped her get her
first job at the local grocery store and we took a crocheting class together. I would read to her
and she would make me re-read it so we could laugh at the rhyming words. She taught me how
to ride the L and cook authentic fried chicken. She also taught me patience, challenge and
showed me the ugly side of the world, filled with discrimination, prejudice, and welfare.
Through it all I fell in love with the art of service. I fell in love with watching growth, progress
and being an active part in other lives in a social and emotional aspect. This job became more
than a paycheck to buy my seven-eleven treats. This opportunity was given to me. It was a
calling. This job led me on the path of a quick decision I am confident I will never regret...to
drop my major and placement in the Dental Program and switch into the field of special
education. My whole life dream of pearly whites and fillings were brushed over by the passion
for education. It was the easiest decision I never had to make because I believe I didnt have a
choice. I believe this is what I came here to do, all along. Tanea told me to not be afraid of telling
my parents of the switch because its ok to change your mind. The woman had a point.
Simplicity and innocence at its finest. Either way, I waited for what I felt was the perfect time to
break the newsat tooth hurty. I figured a small dash of humor would suit him well. Turns out
he knew the whole time and was waiting for me to be called. He explained that even as a young
girl he always saw my heart most when I was helping others seek personal growth. The

conversation led to an enlightenment, sometimes you just dont have a choice of the whys, a
philosophy that I was unaware in the current moment would help me defeat and conquer some of
the toughest times in my life to come. I swear, the man is way smarter than he looks.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: ALWAYS follow your heart and let it be led by
passion, for it will guide you to exactly where you need to be.
______________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
It has been quite some time I had the time to pick you up to write leisurely and
pleasurably. It always amazes me how much change can occur in such a small amount of time.
Looking back, all that I was walking on campus for the first time and to who I am now. My first
night barely sleeping on the hard single bed that molded itself to my safe haven of daily naps,
curing all hangovers and late night giggles with my roommate, who became my best friend and
lifeline. Falling in the rain to gracefully dodging Temples risk factors, knowing all the alternate,
secretive routes to classes that avoided freshman crowds, stinky manholes, and a few exs. I was
comfortable in my choice to pursue teaching and claimed a major in Elementary Education,
Special Education and English graduating with a 3.9. Throughout my journey I made lasting
relationships, saw Taneia graduate and receive her GED, worked throughout North Philadelphia
in some of the most poverty stricken schools from K-12, student taught remediated English in a
wealthy suburb and worked along side my favorite professor as a teaching assistant for a
freshman education diversity class.
My teaching assistant program extended a few weeks past graduation so I stayed on
campus with my roommates for one last hoorah. On a warm spring night, walking into my
diversity class beaming with pride and accomplishment I feel a wave of heat. I was finally at the

finish line of a marathon I persistently pushed through with passion, dedication, tears and hard
work. As I gain focus, I find myself in front of a hundred plus mostly familiar faces looking at
me wide eyed. I looked back and was worried I had forgot to zip my pants, or wear pants at all.
A shy, serial front sitter girl whispered that our professor emailed she was unable to come from
an emergency. The heat now became a burning sensation of panic knowing tonights 90 minute
class revolved around racial inequality. While I had experience working in classrooms and whole
districts where I was the minority, this content heavily petrified me. At that point the burning
heat turned into pure nausea. Without thinking, I ran out and barely made it to the hallway
trashcan and threw up. In that moment, holding my hair back with my face buried in a disgusting
trashcan filled to the brim on energy drinks and Starbucks lattes, I knew I had two
options...cancel class and avoid or put on my big girl pants (which i did in fact remember to put
on and zip) and teach. Lacking all materials except a book I stole from the front seater, I
managed (barely) to hold the attention of a hundred freshmans minds on a Thursday night
despite a Phillies playoff and all night bar specials currently being held blocks away. Dont get
me wrong, it was rocky and there was many long, delayed silences where I swore the boy in the
background could hear my heart racing but as painful as I thought it was, I tried my best and so
did they. It was subtle for sure, but in the air I felt the compassion. I felt like the students truly
cared, silently rooting for me to succeed. They never blatantly gave me the thumbs up but they
actively shared, gave input, questioned and even debated. I remember letting them go ten
minutes early and as all freshman do, ran as fast as they could. Walking home I was filled with
mixed emotion and curious if my thoughts of support were just my way of self-affirmation. I
thought about the fact that each of those students, probably miller lite in hand by now will never
know they were the reason I chose to become a high school teacher. I walked into my vacant

quiet off campus house (like my students, my roommates too were celebrating Philly sports) and
headed upstairs. With each step I felt heavier with emotion, the heat was back and I swear by the
top I was sweating. Sprinting to the bathroom, dry heaving in the toilet I then contemplated
teaching altogether if this was going to be my ongoing reaction. What if I couldnt handle the
pressure and anxiety? What if these feelings outweighed the joyous moments? I was fogged,
confused and mostly extremely irritated. Here I was certain of my field and moments ago
confirming my desire to teach young adults. Still kneeling on the cold tile floor I felt compelled
to pray for clarity. Well Diary, fortunately the clarity came, however unfortunately the nausea
also came...and stayed. I was pregnant.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: While I may become nauseated by unreasonable
expectations, boundless responsibilities and anxiety driven IEP meetings, I will always choose to
pick my head up for my passion to teach. All of my students deserve the chance to learn their
value, ability and potential with someone on their side who believes in their worth enough to get
their head out of the toilet.
______________________________________________________________________________
Dear Diary,
Many of my teaching days are filled with, I cant, I wont, I dont care and why. One
day I sat down with my students and made them break it down. It was amazing to see it all
unfold. Simply put, these statements are what my students feel towards school, education and
learning. The conversation was eye opening and I believe it helped us all in looking at education
in a slightly different perspective. Through this single conversation I discovered my belief and
opinion on the essential responsibilities of an educator.
Conversation Breakdown: I took notes-

The whys? They so desperately seek the meaning to learning about East Asias
government policies in the 1700s and how memorizing the periodic table will benefit them in
their lives. There was many more stated whys. Some students even went as far as asking not
about specific content but whole classes, Why the %&$* do we even need Earth and Space
Science? This was alarming to hear some students did not see the meaning of core classes being
relevant in their personal lives.
The I dont cares. The whys usually turned into the I dont cares because sadly
so many times their whys are never answered. I am still working on this skill because
honestly, sometimes I cant think of a why. However, when I do have it, I almost always get
positive results as well as less I cants and I wonts.
The I cants. They heavily carry this notation that they cant learn, so in return.
The I wonts. Since they believe they cant they say, I wont. My job is to not just tell
them they can, but make them believe they can. This is difficult, and I have learned it takes
patience, dedication and consistency. I start small, giving them as many opportunities to have
success that immerse it with small challenging tasks where they may fail, but all for the benefit
of learning. They told me their learning happens most when I let them take control in teaching
me what they have learned. I told them my learning happens most when I give them control in
teaching me. It was one of the few times we agreed.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: I believe that today, the essential responsibilities of
educators are to create opportunities for students to authentically experience learning through
failure, success, and problem solving. Challenging students to raise the bar, expand their thinking
and take educational risks while giving them the support they need in maintaining confidence

will naturally unfold in showing them the whys, which in my opinion is the most important
responsibility of educators today.

Dear Diary,
I love to learn, dig deeper, wider and expand my skills day in and day out. In my first
year of teaching I realized my natural desire to learn was not shared by all. It took months,
relentlessly trying innovative lessons to open up the minds of my students. One day, out of tricks
I stood on top of my desk (a very common Miss Miner occurrence) and sighed. Friends.
Honestly, all I want is a pizza. They all gazed up at me silently and then to each other. One of
my toughest behavior students cracked a half smirk and responded, So lets do it. My dad owns
Double Decker. Everyone else chimed in, giving options, opinions and devising a plan on how
we would pay, order and get it in time before class ended. I agreed and so, on that Friday I
watched in astonishment all ten of my students (who barely ever conversed with one another)
work together to budget, manage time, laugh, agree and make connections. As the boy took out
his cell phone ready to order, he looked at his classmates and they all nodded. Hey, Miss Miner,
we agreed to two plain larges but wanted to see what kind you liked. Together, we sat in a
comfortable light hearted discussion, eating pizza together that began our traditional Monthly
Pizza Extravaganzas. After months of exhaustion and frustration one word was all it took to
spark the flame. Pizza gave way to creating common ground, learning about students lives,
initiating thoughtful dialogue, problem solving and practicing wide-ranging skills from math to
speaking and communicating. They had the power to make decisions, choose, learn and work
together to successfully reap the reward of enjoying pizza that we all agreed always tasted better
when worked for.

Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: For me the purpose is simple, knowledge is power.
(PS This turned into a very intricate and serious all year project, where students blogged,
researched, and even followed an online pizza crawl throughout America with our last pizza day
making our very own!)

Dear Diary,
This student who keeps making poor choices and decisions was provoked in the cafeteria
and chose to retaliate. Weve had meetings, evaluations, behavior plans and constant
communication with mom. He was suspended, came back and within two days cut class and
cursed a teacher out. Suspended again. When he came back, I had the hardest conversation to
date. The next strike was expulsion. Beyond his anger, he is intelligent and a solid candidate for
Williamson Trade School. He cried, I cried and later that day someone called him retarted in
the hallway. I was told he got closethen walked away without saying any words, just a good
old middle finger ignore. Was I proud of the gesture? Not particularly but what I was proud of
was his statement walking back in my class, I was about to punch him but then I remembered
how much you care, and that makes me care.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: Some expectations need to start basic, such as not
punching someone in the face. I try each day to positively influence those I work with by
believing in them. I give them daily responsibilities, big and small and hold them accountable to
expectations I know theyre capable of even when they dont believe it themselves. The most
essential skill I hope to create in my students is belief. Without believing in their knowledge, in
the system, their learning, capabilities or themselves they cannot make any strides of progress in
becoming better students/learners or people. It may seem basic that my influence does not

directly relate toward learning a specific skill in a specific content area but I chose to teach in a
field where the standards of success look and feel different than the AP psychology course across
the hall. Building a strong foundation of self-confidence, self-control and desire to grow and
improve is what I hope all students can possess by having Miss Miner their freshman year.

Dear Diary,
Through writing these entries, I have learned that single moments can become rocks.
Sometimes you choose which moments to turn into the rocks and sometimes they choose you.
Each of my rocks have been thrown in the creek of life, sprinkled throughout and sit just enough
above the surface so I can balance. These rocks are deeply rooted in the creeks ground, stable
and trustworthy. Sometimes, pebbles of adversity will get tossed, making the water choppy or a
gust of ignorance hits me and Ill lose my balance or fall altogether. Sometimes its sunny and I
am warm, comfortable and secure. However, I have grown to learn that while it may feel good in
the sun most progression comes from when youre treading in the deep watered creek. It may be
exhausting, and some days I find myself drowning with the wonder if anyone would care if I just
stopped swimming. However, seemingly every time I find myself flailing my arms, screaming
SOS, I find myself eye to eye with one of my rocks waiting for me to embrace, climb and
prevail. It is the rocks that create foundation, the inevitable struggles that attempt to drag me
under and passion along with people that silently keep me afloat in finding and creating new
rocks to stand upon. Trust in them, believe in them and most importantly stand tall in fighting for
them.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: Even when you are tired, treading or comfortable never
forget to live. It is only with living full days that are able to create new moments and new rocks.

Knowing this, remember that everyone has their own creek with their own rocks and pebbles. I
live to be the one in others creeks silently guiding, lifting and supporting them to new rocks of
safety, security and confidence.
Warning: Some pebbles of adversity may actually be huge boulders or even worse, deceive
themselves as rocks.

Dear Diary,
I now am in the midst of receiving my masters degree and have been assigned to write
my philosophy of education. I have purposely pushed it off in having in be the last assignment I
complete. Perhaps I was overthinking it or because it pushed me to prioritize. As a newer
teacher, I still teach a tad naively and risky as my older colleagues have so unsubtly voiced.
I am optimistic and unreserved. I care, sometimes way too much. I am also in the midst of an
extremely difficult year with a challenging caseload, tough department and personal issues that
only add to the seemingly uphill battle. However, I do belief that while the days seem tough, I
often find myself looking back, evaluating, breaking it down, asking the hard questions of why
and how. Through thoughtfully thinking, I realized despite the hardship I was shedding light on
the foundational ideologies that influence me to not only teach, but to keep going: to progress,
change, evolve. Like so many of my revolutions in the past, I concluded that single moments in
time are solely responsible for drawing the blueprint of my current philosophy. I also found it
interesting that my main rocks of teaching are vastly similar to my core values in life.
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: Dont procrastinate, it gives you anxiety.

Dear Diary,
For the philosophy statement I went to my kids for help. I told them I thought I knew
why I taught and it was definitely not for the paycheck but it got more difficult in finding that
platform, the meat of the teaching sandwich. They didnt quite get that analogy so again, I stood
on my desk and proclaimed, If my desk was the truest set of what I believed in, what would it
be. They all understood, took a post-it note and wrote. I was highly impressed with the outcome
Some direct post it note quotesThe thing you stand on is hoping we are ok
You dont have a lot of rules, but the ones you do matter like be the best you all the time and
respect
You pull us and push us sometimes literally. We wont tell.
We all have issues and needs but instead of seeing it as a disadvantage she works closely to help
give us advantages
She teaches for the well-being of her students and to never take advantage of an opportunity to
learn.
You care about everyone all the time everywhere. You are the best.
My personal favorite: You make connections with students, between students and what we learn
that guides us into becoming better students and teenagers
Diary, Im not perfect and I never will be. I make mistakes and am criticized often on the
tactics and decisions I make within my teaching. Its tough, but at the end of the day I keep my
promise to never teach the way someone told me to but to stay confident in my beliefs of
teaching my way, which is always based on the what I feel is best for my students. The post-its
served as a reminder that I did have a philosophy all along, I did have the meat to my sandwich,

the desk I stand on. My days of giving students choice, freedom, letting them express their
creativity and find their strengths and weaknesses dont go unnoticed. I was finally able to stop
overthinking and created my simple philosophy statement:
Personal Diary Self-Evaluation Moral: Everyday find ways to show you care through
meaningful experiences and opportunities for students to learn in their lives, within the realm of
education and beyond.

Dear Diary,
Once I found my statement, I needed the legs it stood on. Looking back, on brief
encounters I was able to find the pillars of my philosophy, the legs to the thing I stand on.
First Leg: Never identify or judge based upon a number grade.
Once I had a student crying in the corner of my room. I asked him what was wrong and
without picking up his head he slowly raised his arm holding a paper with a huge F in red
lettering. I am a Failure. F for &*%$ up. His words hit home. I exhaust much energy talking
anxiety driven students off the ledge. I find myself up close and personal with regular education
colleagues and parents who dangle a letter over my student that holds much more weight than it
should. So many times I watch let a score of a lab, forgotten homework, a difficult test drive
student's confidence into the ground. I watch as they so quickly check out, give up and question
their competence. I watch the massive destruction that small circled score creates. I watch as my
students sometimes outwardly but mostly secretly compare their scores to one another generating
obvious hostility within the classroom community because sadly they learned early on to believe
their number holds the power to success. It is heartbreaking to observe this generation of learners
who are so convinced that a grade is the truest representation of their intelligence and worth. Too

many times I find myself looking into the watery eyes of teenaged boys broken down and
humiliated by a daunting single letter they cannot seem to run away from. I choose to dedicate
myself in finding new ways to show students their value, ability and understanding so that they
stay empowered and self-reliant because their is a difference between challenge and frustration.
Second Leg: Always continue to raise expectations that are individualized and progressive.
Go into my classroom and usually you will find me one on one while others work
independently or are peer teaching. Once, I worked with a student on writing who needed extra
support and at the end of the class I was told that I wasnt fair. Before I had time to respond
another student said, Miss Miner isnt equal but shes fair. I teach students the difference
between equality and equity by giving them access to the same opportunities but supporting them
in individualized ways. It may not seem fair at first, but by the end of the journey most
understand. Some never do..in which case I say sometimes, for no reason at all life just isnt fair.
Third Leg: Create a community with a common understanding that at the end of the day we are
a team who works together. Everyone is protected, supported, valued and respected as young,
responsible adults with individualized talents.
o A win is successfully figuring out how the talents can work together to benefit all.
o Always trust the coachs (educator) choices and decisions knowing they have the best
intentions for their learning and welfare at heart.
Even in an affluent district we have much diversity. My kids come from different
backgrounds, family life and experiences. In my room they are treated like the sixteen year olds
they are. I am tough on them, but I care. I treat them like young adults with the expectation they
at like it. Its an understanding we take much time to build and practice through leadership roles,
mock interviews, discussion, journal writing and team building. Once they feel like a valuable

piece of the team, they own it. They want to be wanted, to have that person on the sideline
cheering them onIm that loud baseball coach wind-milling my arms telling them to round
third and bring it home. When they have the trust they dont even hesitate as they full sprint
ahead and slide into home plate. The best feeling? When they get up, the dust settles and they
realize they are safe.
Fourth Leg: Only because there are four legs that hold up the desk which I am standing on.
Trust. Trust yourself, your philosophy and your passion for the art of teaching because
without it, no one else will.