About Me

A small collection

Greetings and salutations,

I am known by many names, wife, daughter, mother, teacher, and friend.  My first name means follower of Christ. My middle name is after my mother and my grandmother. Our middle name legacy lives on in our first of two daughters.  My maiden name means “to sprout” and the married name is a fruit.  The fruitiness name has accompanied me for almost 8 wonderful crazy years. During those eight years, I have taught at five different schools.  I was known by my first name at the alternative high school and as a Mrs. at the charter schools, public, and private elementary schools.  I am also known by my profession.

A big red arrow points to the place where I am found.  The reason for the big red arrow is that I am here to keep teaching what I love.  While looking to the side of the arrow you would find a small dream list: Masters in Art, PhD in Art Education.  Something I could check off of my dream list is to obtain my degree as a reading specialist.

Knowledge is lying at the bottom of the ocean in a locked treasure chest waiting to be opened and revisited.   Reading with adolescents and teaching reading is important and the treasure hunters are ready to set sail.

Students in my class adorn their chains and tangled ropes when faced with a reading challenge.  They defend themselves with rolled eyes, tongue clicks, heavy sighs, and I can’t words.  I take out my dental gear and start pulling until they have perfect teeth.

Interests abound in my habitual habits.  When wading through my hobbies you might find, scrapbooking, drawing, painting, gardening, photographing my family, gardening, camping, and traveling.

For those of you would would like to know more about me through images, please watch the short video of me in a nutshell.

 

Artfully,

Christy A. Berry

P.S.  I’ve added a poem about myself.  I also turned it into a Wordle.

Broken Mirror

By Christy Berry

Many pieces lay on the ground looking back at me.

I was not sure who I was until I started to glue the pieces together.

I cried when I cut myself on anger and sadness.

I laughed at the funny face behind the humor.

Laughter seemed to resonate throughout the pieces.

The child started giggling when the glue tickled.

Thoughts and ideas seemed to attach to creativity.

Leadership instantly stuck to others while stubbornness wouldn’t stick.

I found myself staring at half of who I was.

More pieces still lay on the ground, almost too many to count.

Soon others seemed to fit, family, friends, enemies, lost friends.

Relationships were stamped on each of them.

Enemies were the dirty pieces and family reflected back the most.

As I finished putting the pieces together;

I found that I was still shattered and missing my heart.

I looked high, low, and for some extra glue.

Finally I found it; it was there all the time.

When I glued Jesus into my heart I knew I was complete.

Lines disappeared and now many reflections now sung one song.

I was whole.