Saying Goodbye

Today I said good bye to my best friend, my second mother, and third grandmother to my children.  She was pure beauty, full of grace and wit and will be missed so much.  I was comforted to see so many people at the service, full of guilt when I looked into the eyes of her son and daughter in law, and at peace when I heard all the wonderful stories about her. 

Those of you that know me know I am a crier.  It doesn't take much to get my eyes to flood.  As we sat together during the service the Middle, who never wants to cling to me in any way, reached for my hand and held it.  I looked at her face, she smiled, and started playing games with my hand.  It was a welcome, and needed, distraction.  I enjoyed watching her youngest granddaughter move impatiently around the pew, comforting her mother and father, and watching all of the people around her.  We caught each other's eyes several times and shared smiles.  I saw her grandmother in each smile.  I cried a lot today.  And yesterday.  All week in fact.  I've still not come to terms with the loss of my friend.  This was not the ending I had written for us and I don't like that someone else is changing my story.  I know I will be grieving for quite some time.  I know that I will miss her always.  But, I saw so much of her as I looked around the church.  Children she cared for and taught (including my own), adults that were blessed to know her, and family that loved her.  She lives on. 

She fought that cancer hard, gave it her all, and in her words "it is what it is."  I'll miss you my friend.  You're forever in my heart and I will endeavor to make you proud. 

This song was played at the service today.

Hate, Love and Loss

Hate is a word used sparingly in our house.  The number one rule is that we do not hate any living thing and the word is used only in extreme frustration or for very serious things like hating lima beans or Mondays.  I’ve been struggling with those rules in the past day and a half.  My emotions are up and down, left and right, and they all keep traveling back to hate.  Right now the feeling is overwhelming me.  Right now I can honestly say that I hate cancer and I hate myself.

I’m also feeling loss.  I’ve lost a best friend, a mother figure, and a role model.  She watched me grow up, guided me through college and career, and later through marriage and motherhood.  She was that calming influence.  The person you could go to with any problem.  She would pray with you, laugh with you, cry with you, and help you find the best path.  You always felt like you could do anything after talking to her.  She had a wicked sense of humor.  God could she make me laugh!  She was so caring and loving.    She had the purest soul, the biggest heart, and I am blessed to call her friend. 

There was always something to get in the way of our friendship though.  Basketball games, dance classes, Girl Scout meetings and t-ball.  Then came work, lesson planning, training and studying.  There was laundry, and dishes, and mopping and sweeping.  The list was endless.  The list was also meaningless.  I let life get in the way of being a good friend.  I put myself first and what I needed above others.  Mostly above her.  I neglected our friendship.  I neglected her.

And now she’s gone.  This beautiful, amazing person was taken from us.  I never got to tell her one more time how much I loved her.  What she meant to me.  What an amazing gift she was to me.  I never got to say good bye.  Or hug her one last time.  Or pray with her again. 

Since I heard the news I’ve found myself going back and forth between sending thoughts and prayers to her and feeling an immense amount of guilt.  I hope she knew how deep my love for her is.  How much she means to me.  How I will forever hold her in my heart.  She is a piece of me.  She helped me to become what I am.  And see what I want to be.

I’ve learned a lesson from my neglect.  You can’t take your time here for granted.  Willing someone to live forever won’t make it a reality.  You can’t guarantee that they will be here for you to love, hug, and laugh with tomorrow.  You have to accept today for what it is, to embrace it, live it, and be happy in the moments that we do get.  My heart hurts for the loss and for what I never got to say, and I don’t intend to make that mistake again.   

Today while driving the Big to an appointment we heard the sirens of a fire truck as it raced past us.  I heard her say “Please bless the firefighters and those they are going to help.”  She taught my Big how to do that.  It’s one of the many pieces of her that will live on.  And I love that she is still here.          

Small Moments

On of my favorite units to teach in Writer's Workshop is Personal Narratives.  The definition that I teach my kinders is that a personal narrative is a "small moment that you stretch out".  It's not just telling me you went to the zoo with your aunt, it's telling me about feeding the giraffes and how silly their tongues felt.  It's about focusing on that one Christmas gift and how you felt opening it.  It's how the smell of your mom's chocolate chip cookies make Snow Day's awesome.  I also tell them that it's something that seems so insignificant, yet so important that you want to remember it.  I was struck by that feeling the other night as I watch my Big do something so insignificant that I had to share to avoid losing the memory forever.

The Boy was sick for over a week and his demanding, feverish ways kept him permanently attached to my body for the duration of the fever.  I couldn't even escape him in sleep.  He would pull my face close to his, one hand on my hair, the other on his blanket before laying down to sleep.  If I tried to pull away to take care of the girls, the cats, or even myself he would put a death grip on my hair and whimper "No Mama!" before pulling me close to him.  His hot, sticky breath on my face, hands tangled in my hair, and body securing me to my spot meant that I was stuck.  A lot.

I was thankful that the girls were older and capable of being independent during this week.  They didn't suffer from having to do a bit more for themselves, each other, and for me.  They did it happily, loving to help out.  It was one of those nights that the Middle asked for some ice cream.  She knew her Papa had snuck in some mini ice creams against mommy's wishes and the chocolates were calling to her.  I said yes, but asked if they could wait a few minutes for their brother to untangle himself from me so I could grab them.  Stay where you're at, I was told by the Big.  I can get them.

Seriously?  When did she get so tall that she could not only reach the freezer, but pull things out without causing an avalanche?  I hesitated before saying okay, then turned my body, baby growth attached, to watch her expertly grab two chocolate ice creams, spoons and paper towels before heading to the breakfast table.  She swiftly pulled the lids and plastic wraps off of both containers before putting them in the microwave for 10 seconds (my girls hate ice cream that's too hard) and placing them on the table again for her and her sister to enjoy.  I was struck in that moment at how big 9 years old can really be and it hit me like a ton of bricks that this young lady is MINE. 

She is just one year away from middle school.  She is going to the "senior prom" at school with her Papa in five days.  She takes showers alone, empties the dishwasher, and carries the Boy around like an expert.  All these small, seemingly insignificant things that "big kids" do and yet, I've continued to look at her as my baby girl.  I got so caught up in the Boy turning two, I forgot that my Big would be double digits in a few months.  Where the heck has the time gone!?!?!  Wasn't she just two a few months ago?  Pigtailed, milk in hand, watching The Wiggles? 

I've made a promise to myself over the past week.  I'm going to really slow down and take in the small moments, to write some personal narratives in real life.  Because when it's all said and done, that's really what it's all about.  It's all those small moments that you don't get a rain check on if you don't enjoy them the first time around.

    

Bring It

Many of you had so many kind words and supportive things to say after the rant that was my last post.  A PM from a family member started it all.  I was basically told I was a socialist, union loving brain washer and that "these" types of things are what I'm teaching my students.  Normally I would have let that message roll off my back and down into the pit of their despair.  But this time, it struck a nerve.  This time, I decided to not hold in my anger.  This time, I stopped being the doormat and fought back.

I'm often the person people will come to if they need something done.  Not because I'm good at it mind you, but because I won't say no.  I struggle with disappointing others.  I want to be the problem solver that takes care of everything.  I enjoy helping my friends and family out but sometimes it bites me in the behind because I'm also the person people go to when they are ticked off about something (or someone) else.  They know I will put up with their abuse because I'm "too nice" to fight back.  The gloves had to come off sometime and because my integrity as a person and an educator was questioned, they not only came off but were slammed to the mat. 

I stand by everything I wrote.  I have no regrets having put those words out there and if that makes me a socialist, union loving, brain washer then so be it.  But, at least add in articulate and educated.  Because between you and I, we both know my response kicked your PM's ass.   

What's in a community?

Today, thanks to a blizzard that never roared it’s ugly head, we had a snow day. It was a nice relaxing day with family. I caught up on laundry, worked on lessons plans, and watched reruns of Project Runway all day.  I also cleaned out the four (yep, that's right, four) bags of books, plans, and assessments that I had lugged home from school yesterday.  I might only have to bring two back tomorrow.  I was taking a break and checking in on Facebook later in the afternoon and noticed a video that several of my family members had posted on their walls. Here is the link. Most of the posts were very concerned about her message. Some comments compared the message to Hitler, to a liberal biased media telling us that they want to shape our children into soldiers of the left. I interpreted it in a very different manner than they did. It actually brought me back to a turning point in my teaching career. A point when one small decision turned out to be the biggest of my professional career.

I was ready to move on from the private preschool that I had been teaching at for 8 years. I knew I wanted more professionally and sought out some positions that could do that for me. I was blessed enough to find two that fit the bill. One was a pre-kindergarten teacher at one of the most prestigious private schools in the city. The interview process was rigorous. I was interviewed first by the teaching team (five teachers all from the Early Childhood Education Department) and then the Dean one-on-one. Then I had to create a lesson plan for the morning (two and a half hours) that fit in with their current unit of study (arachnids) that included eight different centers and a large group lesson. I had four different teachers and administrators observing me. After that, I was interviewed again by the head teacher and the Dean. I was offered the position.

The other was at the local Head Start agency. I was interviewed for over an hour by a panel of ten people that included teachers, board members, and administrators. They called my references the next day. That was it. It was not as intense as the private school. I was offered the position.

Two more polar opposites could not have existed. A position at a private school; a school parents sought out for their child because of the excellent education and high standards it presented. The school full of parents invested in their child’s education that would be active participants. A school with children that wanted to come to school and had very high expectations placed upon them for their academic career. Then there was the Head Start position. Children below the poverty line who needed a Family Advocate to help them find clothing and food. Parents who wouldn’t, or couldn’t work, and who didn’t know enough about education to make the right choices for their children because of the cycle of poverty had left them undereducated. There were foster children, abused children, and neglected children. And I would be expected to teach them.

One position would be a lot of work, yet easy. The advanced development of the children in the private school would make my job easy as far as planning. The plethora of activities that I could plan and accomplish with them would be a dream. The parents would be more demanding, but I felt I could handle the pressure. The other would be full of children who were far behind the curve developmentally. I would have to differentiate like I’d never done so before. And oh goodness the government paperwork I’d have to fill out each day for that position would be a nightmare. Decisions, decisions.

Many people (especially those that don’t know me very well) would be shocked to learn that I picked the Head Start position. I picked it because I felt it was my calling. I was put here to be an active engaged member of my community and I fill that role by being an educator. The private school job would have been a cake job. I’m sure I would not have had DHS on my speed dial had I taken the job there, that I would not have watched parents be arrested, that I would not report abuse one day only to find the family had run off in the middle of the night and I’d never see that student again. I’m sure I wouldn’t come home most nights on the verge of an emotional break down because of what I had experienced at work that day. But I also would have missed out on the joy of hearing a four year old, selective mute student’s first words. Or watching former students score proficient on state assessments even though the statistics said that they shouldn’t. I would have missed on watching family’s change their lives with the help of their community. I was a part of something amazing. Had I not gone to Head Start I would not have become involved in legislation that changes the face of education in my state. I would not be an active member of several professional organizations that fight for children in my community each and every second of the day. I would not be a warrior for children.  I would not know the power of a community.

So, back to the video. I did not take it to mean that my children do not belong to me, as many are interpreting it. I took it to mean that education in our communities is ALL of our responsibility. There’s nothing I hate more than to hear “It’s not my school/my district/my state so it’s not my problem”. It IS our problem. When we don’t as a community invest in ALL of the children around us then we have failed. And our failure is as parents, as community members, and as human beings. I don’t take this video to mean that it’s a community’s responsibility to raise my children, to indoctrinate them into their beliefs, to do MY job for me. It’s my job to raise respectful, responsible, and empathic children. It’s my job to teach my children how to be contributing members of the community and how to care for those around them. To care about what happens in the world and to work hard to achieve great things. But it’s also my job to create a community that supports families and education. And I can’t do that if I refuse to accept what is, or is not, occurring in my neighborhood, city, and state. I have to accept blame if I choose to bury my head in the sand and not be a voice for my children and their peers.

I took the video to say that we need to accept responsibility for that and for the children in our communities, whether we gave birth to them or not. To fight for them, encourage them, and be present for them.  To also FUND them! It’s far too easy to say public education sucks so I’ll put my kid in private school. Then those issues will be someone else’s problem, not mine. At least MY kids will be okay. I think that is, to be perfectly honest, a really shitty way to look at it. Whether you have children or not, I feel it’s your duty to invest in education, to care about the next generation, and to do right by them. Because if you don’t, who will?

There is a war raging in public education right now.  And we will all suffer the consequences if too many of us choose to look the other way and focus only on the needs of our own family.  Decisions are being made by companies that contribute millions to politicians who push their agendas through our system.  They create Race to the Top and NCLB in the guise of "what's best for children" without consulting a single educator (except for a few that lasted one or two years in the classroom before moving up to admin).  They stand to make thousands off of each child that is pushed through their testing system, create huge databases (with your child's personal information) of successes (and excuses for the failures), while not one of them accepts responsibility for educating our children in a relevant and appropriate manner.  They throw child development and appropriate educational goals out the window to make a buck.  And we sit there and worry about a video that calls us to action?  One that asks us to invest in ALL of our children?  Now I understand why they are winning.