Reflections Art Award!

Okay, peeps.

HAPPY FREAKING SPRING BREAK!!!

Our crew is soooooo excited to launch a week off school—complete with a few days away on an adventure that begins tomorrow! Woohoo!

But before I get lost in the vortex (that’s a hint for our destination) of packing suitcases and getting us out of town and deep in the weeds of gloriousness and vacay trip posts (tehe), I wanted to share the fun news of a recent Chica accomplishment.

After all, it only seems fair to round out my braggadocios Mama posts since I did one for Little Man (for his Habit Hero award), and one for Chicklet (for her rockstar reading benchmarks).

So, without further delay…here’s some bragging about THIS lovely lady!

She recently received an honorable mention award for her literature entry in a school-sponsored art competition!

WOOHOO!



The event is a PTA-sponsored, 50+ year, nationwide event called Reflections Art Competition. Each year, a theme is assigned (this year, it was “Show Your Voice”), and students have the option of submitting an entry in any of the following categories:

Dance Choreography

Film Production

Photography

Literature

Music Composition

Visual Arts

It’s an entirely voluntary competition, and I was tickled to bits and pieces that Chica was interested in participating—especially when she selected Literature! :)

The entries were all submitted in the Fall; around January, we received word that Chica’s entry had progressed to district level; then a couple weeks ago, we received word that she’d been granted a district-level award!

We had the fun (and anxiety, on Chica’s part, as she did not want to have to walk across the stage in a big auditorium to receive her award) of attending the district-wide ceremony to celebrate all these talented kiddos, and it was a really lovely and eye-opening evening! So much talent, right here in our district!

During the presentation of awards, I learned there were more than 3,000 entries at the individual school level, then only the top twenty percent progressed to the district level, like Chica.

Across all grade levels and all categories, district-wide, there were about 200 awards given out that night, and I was SO proud of my girl for her achievement. :) There were only about 7-8 students from Chica’s particular school who received awards, and it really felt like a special acknowledgment.

In addition to her recognition at this district-wide ceremony, Chica was also recognized today at her school-wide, end-of-nine-weeks assembly. She received a few additional tokens to go along with her medal: a certificate, a ribbon, and two gorgeous, gold-trimmed books, in honor of her category of submission. :)

I luuuuurv this look she gave Chicklet during some hysterical photobombing this afternoon, tehe.



All smiles and silliness, in the end. ;)



I’ve mentioned this before, but it bears repeating: one of the personality traits I most admire in my beloved firstborn is her willingness to participate.

She constantly puts herself out there for school clubs, activities and recreational events. From art competitions to tech team, to school choir, the strings program, tennis, or PALS (a school mentoring program), she is so often game for trying new and different things, and it could not thrill me more.

Truly, the joy is in the process and the challenge. And what a lovely thing for her to receive minor recognition as an unintended result.:)

If you’re interested in reading, I’ve posted Chica’s short literature entry below. It’s titled “The Day I Learned,” and again, the theme was “Show Your Voice.”

Hi, I’m Leanna, and I’m in second grade. I’m dyslexic, and at first, I wasn’t happy about it because I didn’t know how to read that well, and things that were easy for other kids were hard for me. But one day, I learned that even though things can be difficult, you can take it at your own pace and you’ll get there, eventually. Here’s my story:

My dyslexia teacher, Mrs. Johnson gives us a short story that she wants us to read out loud to our parents. She gives us all a short passage, and then we go back to our homeroom class.

Later that day, it’s time to read to my mom for homework.

“Alright,” Mom says. “You ready to read to me?”

“I guess…” I say. I’m not really sure if I want to read the passage, but I do it, anyway. I start to read: “The t…tour…um….” I wasn’t sure how to pronounce the word. “Uhhhh….”

“Tortoise,” Mom says.

“Oh. The tortoise…and the…hareee?” I question.

“Hare,” Mom says. “You’re doing great, keep going.”

“Like the hair on your head?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “Hare as in, rabbit or bunny.”

“Oh,” I say. “Okay. But why is hare spelled with an e?”

“It’s a silent e,” she says. “Continue.”

“Okay.” One day the h…hare?”

“Yeah.”

“The hare said you can’t run fa…s…t…fa-st. Fast?” She nods, and I continue: “And the tor-toise said…yes, I, can…I…I…ill?”

“I’ll,” she corrects me.

“I’ll do a ra-ke.”

“Race,” Mom says.

“To-pr-oveee….”

“Prove,” she says.

“Ugh! This is too tough! I just can’t do it!” I run off downstairs and into my parents’ room.

A couple minutes later, Mom comes into the room and sits down beside me. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“It’s j-just all too tough!” I say, sniffling.

“What’s all too tough? The reading?”

I nod, blowing my nose on a tissue.

“Well…” she pauses to think, then continues: “Have you ever heard the story The Tortoise and the Hare?”

“N-no,” I answer.

“Well, the tortoise and the hare race and the tortoise wins.”

“I don’t understand. Why would the tortoise win? They’re, like, super slow,” I ask.

“You’re right,” she answers. “But that’s part of the moral.”

“M-moral? What’s a moral?” I ask.

“A moral is a lesson in a story,” she answers. “It’s something the book teaches you. A life lesson.”

“Oh. And?”

“And the lesson in this one is: slow and steady wins the race,” she explains.

“Oh,” I say. I think about it about that for a moment, then say: “Let’s try reading this again. I think I’m ready, now.” She smiles, then we head back up to my room.

After we read the story, I write my name, Mom signs the paper, and she gives me a high five. “You did it, Leanna! Great job. And you learned something valuable. That’s the true reward,” she says.

“Thanks,” I reply. “I did learn something valuable. And I’m proud of it.”

I had finally found my voice.