Ohana Cupcakes

In the past three weeks, I have been in seven different states, teaching at a variety of yearbook and journalism workshops. It was a hectic period of traveling, meeting new kids and advisers and being constantly on the go. When I finally made it home on Monday, I was more than ready for the short break that I will have before I'm off for my next set of camps.

I spent my weeks presenting to students and advisers about a variety of topics, including everything from interviewing and news writing to ice breakers and community building. Despite being constantly on the move and living out of a suitcase for three weeks, I loved every second of my work. Working with kids, whether they were my students or not, is always exciting and rewarding. Networking with other advisers and sharing war stories and feel good moments always reminds me why I love this profession. When I am on campus during the school year, I am the only person who really gets what I do. There isn't another teacher who works with kids the way that I do, runs their classroom the way that I do and oversees the kinds of projects that I do. In a way, that's a blessing--there isn't anyone telling me what to do, or clamoring after my job... But at the same time, it's incredibly isolating. When InDesign does weird things to your text, the school server crashes or the cameras start eating memory cards... There isn't someone next door, or across the hall, or even on the other side of campus that really understands how that impacts your work.

But being able to share my experiences and what I have learned over the years, both with students and other advisers, keeps me going. Sure, I was tired. Sure, losing my voice two days into the first camp made things a little rough. Sure, discovering I have allergies pretty much everywhere except San Diego was an unpleasant surprise... But none of that mattered. I was getting to talk about what I love, with people who get it. People who understand why pizza DURING deadline tastes different that pizza any other time. People who understand why a smile from a snotty teenager can make your day. People who know what it really means to put a project to bed.

Getting to be around so many other dedicated, hard working and motivated people recharges my batteries better than any day by the pool ever could. Since my first workshop in Kansas City, I have been flooded with emails from students and advisers, asking questions, asking me to share my resources and thanking me for reminding them that yearbook (and school) can be fun. I can't deny that I get a little teary eyed every time I read one of those emails. Knowing that drawing a pig, playing rock paper scissors or wrapping clumps of kids in saran wrap made a difference for someone else is rewarding. I have my own kind of crazy, but it works in my classroom. I know it doesn't work for everyone, but I love giving the tools to others so that they can define their own sort of chaos.

I am inspired by the ebb and flow of ideas at the camps I participate it. I get a chance, as a relatively new adviser, to rub elbows with people who have been kicking ass in the yearbook business longer than I've been alive. I get a chance to watch people work their magic with kids, getting them excited about everything--from singing "I'm a little teapot" to going nuts with the "Interlude." I get to see a kind of passion that is, sadly, missing from my day to day work environment. Yearbook people are special people. We're a bunch of crazy weirdos, but we get each other. We support each other. And we get damn excited about fonts, picas, kerning and margins with each other.

Despite the fact that camp after camp after camp is exhausting, I'll never stop doing it. I'll never give up the opportunity to watch others inspire students, or to be inspired by them. I'll never stop sharing my resources or my ideas. I'll never stop loving what I do--because it's never the same. It changes every year, with every new set of kids. Every time I think I have a recipe for a perfect year figured out, I hear a new idea from someone at a workshop, and my mind is blown.

I don't think there is a perfect way to build a yearbook staff. I don't think there is a perfect method for working with teenagers. But I do know that my summers are perfect, just the way they are... Crazy, busy, hectic, frazzled... And inspiring. Not only do I get the opportunity to inspire kids far beyond the confines of my classroom, but I get to work with folks that I have an incredible amount of respect for, and who I look up to.

Since I started advising, many people have taken a chance on me. It started with my administration, being willing to let a new teacher juggle both yearbook and newspaper (on top of an English load). Then my yearbook rep pushed for me to teach at my first workshop--which required a good amount of faith on her part, and a huge leap of faith on behalf of the workshop coordinator. From there, pieces fell into place. JEA allowed me to work with students through their conferences. Other camps opened their doors to me. Other people saw me teach and told me they were impressed, inspired. And that motivated me. It motivated me to keep going, keep doing what I was doing, and keep working to make it better. It's been an amazing experience so far, and I am so grateful for what I've been able to do, because it has made such a difference for the kids in my classroom. From my supporters from my yearbook publishing company, to my fellow advisers, to their students... All of these people have become my extended yearbook family.

Just as I am inspired by my fellow teachers and their students, I am also inspired by other bakers, bloggers and photographers. I follow several cooking blogs, and when I need inspiration or ideas, they are the first place that I look. When I need an idea to run with, I know I can check a few sites and have a meal planned in minutes. I know that my circle of blogging bakers will always come through when I need a recipe... In a way, they've become my virtual, constantly available, kitchen family.

So what better recipe to share than one, to me, says, "Family"? I made these cupcakes to take to yearbook camp last week, so that my Yerd Family could have a homemade treat to enjoy before all of our craziness ensued. The recipe is one that I adapted from one of my fellow baking, blogging diva contacts, so it's a perfect marriage of things I love coming full circle. I've changed the recipe a bit, given it a new name and made something delicious in the process. Just sharing the love for, as Stitch would say, my "Ohana."

Ohana Pinapple Cupcakes

photo provided by cupcakegarden.com

Epic fail on my part... I forgot to take pictures before everyone ate them.

Pineapple Cake:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour*

• 1 1/2 cups sugar*

• 1 tablespoon baking powder*

• 1/2 cup non-fat dry milk*

• 1/3 C. melted butter, cooled

• 3 eggs

• 1 1/4 C. crushed pineapple with juice

• 1 tsp. vanilla extract

• 1 tsp. lemon extract

*These ingredients can be omitted if you would prefer to just buy a box of yellow cake mix. But that is totally cheating and I will judge you for it.

Cream Cheese Frosting:

• 1/2 C. butter, softened
• 8 oz cream cheese, softened
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 3-4 C. powdered sugar
• Dried pineapple for garnish

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line pans with cupcake liners.
2. Sift dry cake ingredients into a small bowl and set aside.
3. In a large bowl combine butter, eggs, pineapple and vanilla extract. Mix on high until fluffy.
4. Stir in cake mix until smooth.
5. Fill cupcake liners 3/4 full and bake for 17-22 minute or until and inserted knife comes out clean.
6. Let cool.
7. Frosting: Beat butter and cream cheese for 2 minutes until smooth. Add vanilla extract and slowly add powdered sugar until you reach your desired consistency. If it becomes too thick, whipping cream.
8. Dollop onto cooled cupcakes.