I’m driving my cute little bug to school on a beautiful spring morning and the only thought in my head is “in 12 hours this will be over.  I can do anything for 12 hours.”  I was thinking about the craziness of the day ahead, knowing there would be equipment to move, little issues to take care of, changes in class structure since my room is the stage and dealing with 75 really excited 3rd graders.

Yes, I know this isn’t rocket science and that I’m very fortunate not to have something really serious to stress out about.  It’s not really stress even, it’s just knowing how tired I’m going to be when this is all over.  I woke up thinking of things I needed to fix today and had a list going when I got to school.  Rehearsal this morning went really well and we were able to fix all of those little things in plenty of time.  Then, this afternoon, the unthinkable happened.  They had a great dress rehearsal in front of the school.  I knew then that something would happen tonight because, as the superstition goes, good rehearsal, bad performance.  And while it wasn’t a crash and burn by any means, things happened tonight that had not happened before.  It’s a good thing kids are cute!

But today did get me thinking.  I was literally counting the hours.  How many times do we do that?  Counting the hours until a big event, or for something to be over.  Counting the days, the weeks, the months, the years.  And then we sit back and realize we’ve used up another 12 hours of our lives and wonder if it was really what we wanted to do or was it just surviving the usual?  Were we paying so much attention to the big event that we forgot to pay attention to the little things that happened during those 12 hours?  Was the big event everything we hoped it would be after all that expectation?  What else could you have been doing that you really wanted to do instead of watching the clock?

I remember way back to my second year of teaching at a little parochial school and I had decided to do this little vaudeville style Christmas show.  We worked and worked on that thing, SO many props, on a little stage, trying to make enough room for the kids to move around on it.  I was so stressed.  And then came the evening of the show and at the end we sang “The Christmas Song” in a beautiful little tableau.  As it finished, the crowd of appreciative parents applauded loudly and I’ll never forget the look on my kids faces.  It took everything I had not to break down in tears, looking at the pride and wonderment on their faces.  And for awhile, every concert and program was like that.  And now, I count the hours.

Maybe it’s because I’ve done so many.  Maybe I’ve created a formula that works pretty well and I need to try something new.  Maybe it’s unrealistic to feel the same things I felt 25 years ago. Regardless, it became just another thing to mark off of the list of events for this year.  It made me wonder how many of us list makers just keep marking things off until there are no more lists to make.

My husband is not a list maker.  Oh sure, he puts things in his calendar, but he doesn’t write things down and mark it off like it’s just one more thing to do.  But then, he loves what he does.  Oh, not every single thing, but working with his bands and those students is what gets him up in the morning.  What would this world be like if everyone just stopped doing the things they tolerated, the things they made lists for and did whatever it was they were passionate about?  What a wonderful place this would be, full of happy people, doing what they loved to do.

And then I think about my kids.  The little girl who just sat on the floor when it was over this afternoon and cried because it was so wonderful.  The kids who didn’t think they could do it and they did.  The shy kids who only had that one line but they did it at the right time and they did it well.  The girl who filled in on a little solo at the last minute for someone who couldn’t make it.  The smiles, the squeals, the laughter, the excitement.  My job was to help them feel those things, to create an event that they might remember for years to come.  Something that is so routine to me but not to them.  And each year, I get to do it again for a new group of kids, maybe sparking the same passion I had for music when I was younger.

So here I sit, two hours after the event has ended and I’m tired.  However,  I have one more event next week and the opportunity to give kids another exciting life experience, and perhaps get them to feel a real passion for music.  And I’ll probably wake up that morning thinking “12 more hours.  I can do this”.

 

 

Tis another busy season for music educators everywhere as we all prepare final concerts and plays to be performed for judges, parents, students, fellow teachers and administrators.  For the last several years, my husband and I have had performances to do on the same nights so unfortunately we don’t always get to see what the other is doing.  For many years, before I finished my degree, I would attend his high school concerts and take however many number of boys we had at the time.  When I began doing my own concerts and plays, especially the plays, I would actually put him to work, usually backstage or in the pit. And the assumption was that we would attend each others events unless there was a conflict.  Then one night he asked, do you mind if I don’t go?  It’s just a little elementary concert.  As you can imagine, my reaction was not the best and needless to say he’s done his best to suffer through many elementary programs since then.  However, there is always one thing we never fail to do with each other after every event and that is pie.

Years ago, I’m pretty sure it was ice cream, but somewhere along the line it turned to pie.  Maybe when we moved here and there were Village Inns on every corner with Award Winning Pie advertised right on the windows.  So tomorrow, he will do his campus band concert at the university and I will do my 3rd grade play at school and we will meet afterwards to celebrate with pie.  And then next week, when I have my choir concert, we will celebrate again.  With pie.

So our dilemma tonight?  Wednesdays are free pie night.  Knowing full well we’re going to go back tomorrow to do our traditional pie celebration we gave in to temptation.  What is it about pie anyway?  Well, the filling is obviously important, but for me, the crust is my favorite.  It worked out really well for my brother and me growing up because he liked the filling best and I liked the crust, so we would share a piece.  I’ve grown up some since then which is a good because I’m pretty sure my husband wouldn’t be as accommodating and yes, I will eat the filling now.  However, each bite must have some crust in it.  Ok, maybe that didn’t sound so appetizing….

But back to pie.  We always say “as American as apple pie” but I’m not sure it’s really American.  I’m pretty sure that in my German DNA there’s a requirement to love all things pastry, like strudel for instance.  I obviously can’t help it.  But having pie together is more than just eating.  It’s a time to unwind after something stressful that we both understand intimately.  I can sit and spend time talking with someone who can empathize with me and talk me down if I’m taking a mistake too seriously and vice versa.  Like all music educators/facilitators, there’s a bit of personal risk that’s taken every time we put our students on a stage.  You see, THEY won’t necessarily be judged on any mistakes that are made, but as the teachers, we will.  The audience will judge our  work based on things like its entertainment value, on the intonation of our group (whether they really understand what intonation is),  or maybe on how well the group behaves (for little people anyway).  They’re seeing a one time snapshot without seeing all of the months of work that went into it.  They’re not standing or sitting on that stage feeling the butterflies and hoping they or the students don’t forget something major or make an obvious mistake.  And sometimes, a conversation over pie helps.

So maybe tonight was preemptive strike, a little deescalation before the concert.  Or maybe it was free pie night and it’s a few days before pay day and we wanted a cheap date.  Who knows? Regardless, we’ll be back tomorrow, celebrating yet another concert and play, maybe with a different kind of pie this time.

 

It’s just a little half hour 3rd grade play.  I’ve been doing plays of all kinds for close to 30 years and you would think by this time there would be nothing to be stressed about.  Sure, there is the “unknown” factor when you put 75 eight year olds on a stage in front of an audience, but hey, what’s wrong with a little improvisation once in a while?

Years ago, I did this cute little kindergarten play and all the kids had stuffed animals with them standing on the risers.  The singing and movements were well rehearsed and the cuteness factor was on overload.  Until the first kid threw up.  All over the riser where he was standing and the stuffed animal he was holding.  The other kids kept singing and dancing.  The a second kid starting crying because he thought his friend (the one who threw up) was dying so a teacher had to take that one away too.  And still, the other kids kept singing and dancing.  I’m pretty sure I remember a third kid doing something and despite all the craziness where homeroom teachers were removing some kids, the others did their job.  Preparing the kids is not the issue.  It’s that improvisation I spoke of, like a stomach virus, that you can’t prepare for.

I was so fortunate to work with a dear friend who has since passed, who taught me a lot about the tricks of the trade.  I watched how he auditioned kids, how he set up rehearsal content and schedules, how he taught kids to use a microphone and how to bow.  I learned how to take care of and store equipment and how to get good people to help and how to delegate, all while keeping his finger on just about every facet of the production. Just because the actors/singers were young did not mean he didn’t expect excellence. Watching and learning from him has served me well and helped me avoid some things that others may have difficulty with.  For instance, I followed a teacher once who would  place large trash cans on either side of the risers for kids who needed to throw up during a performance.  When I told the kids I wasn’t going to do that and taught them how to stay loose, breathe, when to sit down if needed and rehearsed them to the point where they knew it cold, I didn’t need trash cans.  When I can look kids in the eyes and tell them I will be there with them, no matter what and they trust me, we don’t have to worry about these kinds of things.  I’m so grateful I was able to learn so much from my friend.

Then come the “what if” questions.  What if the main character gets sick?  What if something breaks?  What if I forget my lines?  I tell them I don’t answer “what if” questions and everything is going to happen the way I say it will.  I had a child perform one night after breaking his arm between the school day and the play and he showed up with it wrapped and the show went on.  I’ve had kids show up with temperatures and everything else because they were invested in what we were doing, not because I made them do it.  And well, honestly, there are just some things I can’t do anything about.  No point in telling the kids that – I’ll just take care of things as they need to be taken care of.

Then there’s technology.  What can I tell you?  When I have to deal with technology, there’s always a glitch of some kind.  I can have it all set up before a rehearsal and darned if something stops working between when I did the sound check and when the dress rehearsal begins.  That’s probably the only thing that stresses me out at this point in my career.  I know exactly what I want to happen, but if the technology doesn’t work in terms of the iTunes on my laptop or any kind of visual presentation that goes with the production, I’m at a loss.  It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I work with the equipment, invariably something won’t work the same way it always has.  The good thing is that this is a great way to teach kids that everyone makes mistakes and sometimes things happen that are out of our control, right?  I’m just hoping it won’t happen in front of an audience this time.

So why keep on doing these things?  It’s not a part of my contract – I don’t have to do any performances technically.  Despite the occasional unexpected improvisation or technical difficulty it’s the final product that gets me every time.  It’s the look on their faces when the audience applauds enthusiastically for their efforts.  It’s the look of pride on the faces of those parents, especially those surprised parents who couldn’t imagine their son or daughter speaking in public, much less singing by themselves.  It’s the tears from the parent whose special needs child was included just like every other child. It’s the amazement of adults when they see what kids can do together when working on a large collaborative project and making a success of it.  And it’s about those kids who say things to you like “that’s the best thing that every happened in my whole life!” and you know they mean it.  All 7 or 8 years of that life.  And my hope is that they’ll continue to pursue these different art forms to help them grow in their self assurance and to see that hard work and collaboration with others can be a great thing.  So, on with the show!

 

 

Just when you think things can’t get more ridiculous in terms of educating young children, I read an article the other day about a preschool in Massachusetts who is banning the words “best friend”.  They believe the term excludes other children and leads to the development of cliques and outsiders.  Heavy sigh….

At a time when children are developing socially, yes, it is important for them to learn to include others and to be kind.  However, for just about everyone, there’s that one person that we just “click” with.  The one who feels like a kindred spirit, who understands all of our quirks, perhaps shares a few of those quirks themselves and likes us anyway.  Can you imagine a world without your best friend?

And whoever said everyone has to like everyone?  That’s not to say that we shouldn’t be kind and considerate and learn how to get along with everyone, but there are going to be those people in life that you disagree with, that rub you the wrong way, or that you’re uncomfortable with.  A great life skill is learning how to get along with and perhaps work with this person if need be, but it doesn’t mean they have to be your friend.  Teaching kids to be empathetic and pushing them into relationships are two different things.  Yes, we need to make kids aware of those who feel isolated or alienated and teach them how to show kindness, but telling the child they have to be friends with everyone and can’t have a best friend just makes no sense.

I will agree that I have seen some of my students struggle when a perceived “best friend” decides they want to play with someone else.  Again, it’s a learning experience and a time where an adult can say to the child that it’s okay to share friends with other people.  It doesn’t mean that you aren’t their friend anymore, it just means they might want to hang out with someone else for awhile.  A difficult concept for a child, but also an opportunity for learning, if we allow it.

What this article says to me also is that we are allowing children to wallow in their insecurity and focus more on themselves than on others.  It’s hard when the cute little blond with the ponytail or that little boy with the puppy dog eyes comes up to you and they’re just so sad that their friend has chosen not to play with them today.  I believe our first instinct as adults is to fix it for them, which usually means telling the other kid to play with them.  However, there ARE other options.  Maybe we teach them to find another child playing by themselves and start a conversation.  Or we teach them the concept of sharing our friends or how to verbalize to their friend how they feel and help them work it out themselves.  It’s important to teach them that they can be independent AND have a best friend.

Kids very quickly figure out the kids they don’t want to hang out with and surprisingly it’s not usually what we might consider to be the quirky kid.  Kids figure out who the mean kids are, the ones who get physical and say awful things to them and they just don’t want to be with them.  I’m not sure this is such a bad thing.  Kids are protecting themselves from someone who can harm them. The problem is, once that child who is struggling is perceived this way, it is even more difficult to get other children to feel empathetic towards them.  It’s a bit of a catch 22 in that the angry, mean child, when excluded will get even more angry which pushes the other children away again.  And I understand the concern all too well.  Will this kid be the one who grows up to come back and take things out on those same kids who excluded him or her?  Or should adults in this child’s life have worked harder to help them develop the kinds of traits that others want to be around or even better, help them deal with the anger issues?  It takes a long time to build up trust with someone once they’ve been hurt but it can be done and relationships can be built.  But until that trust is rebuilt, there is nothing that says they have to be friends.

I can think of those best friends I’ve been lucky enough to know throughout my life, who have been there just when I needed them and I hope they felt it was mutual.  But I can also think of those people who lost my trust, who hurt me and  made me feel small and it was okay to let them go.  It took me a long time not to feel guilty for letting some people go or walking away from them.  It’s up to me to decide who I need to have around me and if I want to call them my best friend, then so be it.  It’s important that adults teach children how to develop healthy relationships, kindness and empathy towards others, but also that it’s okay for them to chose who they want to be with.  Even if one of them is a best friend.

 

 

I have a friend, now retired, who always knew exactly how many days there were left of school and how many Mondays were left.  Whenever someone was having a difficult day, they might go to her and ask “how many more days?” and my friend would tell them and everyone would laugh and/or say “we can do this!”.  It was encouragement and understanding among those of us who love what we do, but some days are almost more than we can deal with.  And so yes, I know exactly how many days I have left and the number of “events” I have to deal with before the end of school.

Those of you not in teaching might be saying, well, lucky you, at least you have the summer to look forward to, and yes, to some extent you’re absolutely right and we absolutely need it.  In the next couple of weeks I have rehearsals, a play and a concert to do, which in essence is a assessment of what my kids have learned and are able to do in front of parents, other teachers, my administration and the public.  They will look at what my kids are doing and judge me based on what they see.  In my first few years of teaching this was excruciating as the judgement really bothered me and people were quick to say something.  In hindsight, most of it was trying to be helpful but I looked at it as criticism and would make it all about me.  Nowadays, I know what I’m looking for and if you like it, great, and it not, I already know what we did well and what we didn’t do well and we can live with it.

As a teacher, and especially a teacher in the arts, I am intellectually, emotionally and artistically invested in what I do, how I do it and who I do it with.  It is exhausting.  Some days it’s a true love/hate relationship where I wonder if being a greeter at Walmart might be a better place to be and others days I feel a joy I can’t explain.  By the end of the year, this year long roller coaster ride has taken its toll and I’m ready for solitude, a different routine and time to replenish for the next ride.  I get to a place where I don’t want to hear any music because throughout the year I literally wake up and go to sleep audiating the music I deal with every day.  Oh sure, things rotate in and out depending on what I’m working on, but it gets old waking up to a combination of Charles Ives, a song from our current musical, the chorus from a choir song and Five Green and Speckled Frogs taking turns in your brain.  I much prefer to wake up to the sound of windchimes and birds in the summer.  My brain needs a break.

Not that the brain won’t get interrupted this summer.  I know I have professional development I am required to do in music and in student supports and I will go to Washington to learn more of what is going on at a national level in music education and how we can make those on the Hill more aware of the importance of music education in the lives of children.  I will also teach a professional leadership workshop for young teachers and prepare several sessions for this coming fall and next spring that I will be teaching as well.  This is not unusual.  Most teachers I know rarely are able to just do nothing during their summers.  Just because the kids aren’t there, doesn’t mean the job ends.

So yes, I am counting the days.  23 days to be exact and one of those is a field day.  I know I have to cross off two play rehearsals, two play performances, another choir dress rehearsal, two choir performances and a final graduation performance. All this while finishing up assessments for the last quarter and making sure I’ve covered all of the essential learning outcomes for the year satisfactorily.  And then I will rest.  Just enough rest so that I’m ready to take on the next year and do it better than before for the next 191 days.

Something really cool happened yesterday in the most ordinary way.  Friday mornings are our 4th and 5th grade choir rehearsals and I currently have 54 energetic students who are willing to show up an hour before school starts once a week to sing together.  Unfortunately for them, I do not play piano well, so I tend to use recordings as accompaniment.  They are usually great arrangements, but are obviously inflexible so I have to go with the tempo of the recording rather than interpreting on my own.  However, at our last concert, one of the parents at my school approached me and said he would love to accompany for us if I was interested, so I said yes.

So yesterday, he came to our rehearsal to help us get ready for our concert which is a little over a week away.  One of the pieces we’re doing is an Italian aria/chorus from one of the operas we’ve studied in 5th grade but the students had never sung it with the accompaniment before.  When the piano began with the downbeat from my student teacher, I watched my students’ faces as they heard themselves accompanied for the first time. At a particularly dramatic point in the music as the piano played a couple of loud, dramatic chords, my students grinned and their energy matched that of the accompaniment.  I found myself smiling with them, so happy that they were having this experience.  When the piece ended, the students broke out in spontaneous applause.  It wasn’t perfect, and we went back and worked on a few things, but all in all, a challenge and a success.

So, why so extraordinarily ordinary? Well, the parent accompanist just happens to be a Steinway Artist and the Director of the School of Music at the University of Nebraska.  I happen to teach his children and he came to the concert because he son plays in the 5th grade band.  He is a busy man, just finishing up his first year at the University and it would never have occurred to me to ask him to accompany a bunch of 10 and 11 year old students.  However, he didn’t hesitate to ask if I would mind if he did.  So, if you could imagine the musical diversity in the room yesterday morning; a PhD Steinway artist working with my student teacher accompanying a bunch of kids preparing for an elementary concert.  All working towards the same goals, all doing their best at whatever level they had attained so far, all of us taking turns at making mistakes – and I mean ALL of us.  (I won’t embarrass my guest by telling you what they were : ). All of us, making music together.

As music educators, when we say Music Making by All, so many times we talk about diversity in terms of things like culture and race, but there is also diversity in experience and age and none of it matters with music.  Making music is making music, no matter your background or level of expertise and everyone is working towards the common goal of creating something beautiful and exciting, something that is never the same way twice; art created in the moment.  Musicians at all levels, encouraging and applauding each other.  It is really an example for all in terms of how to work collaboratively with everyone working towards a common goal.  Pretty awe inspiring actually.

I have to admit, that it was so ordinary, that the extraordinary didn’t hit me until later.  Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t always see this kind of collaboration in other academic areas outside of the arts, the kind of opportunity where kids and adults work together on a creative project, all of us responsible for doing our jobs, and where not only are adults leading but actually participating in the music making with the students.

So, in about a week and a half, we get to share our collaboration with an audience.  My hope is that they will begin to see and understand that music is something that transcends all areas of diversity and is truly FOR ALL.

 

When someone asks me what I do, I tell them I’m a teacher or an educator.  So, while I’m pretty sure I know what I do, I decided to look up the definitions of both of those words and of course it’s a person who teaches or educates. But when you look up the words teach and educate, here’s what you get:

Teach: show or explain to (someone) how to do something.  From Germanic/Old English meaning to “point out, show, say”.

Educate: give intellectual, moral, and social instruction to (someone, especially a child), typically at a school or university.  From the Latin meaning “lead out”.

I was a little disappointed because if that’s all an educator does, does that person really make difference in how a child learns to learn?  Does an educator instill a love of learning or just lead by pointing out, showing and saying?  This makes me think of all of those lecturing professors I ever had who never left the front of the room, the all important “sage on the stage” as we tend to refer to them.  Okay great, so they’re a fount of impressive knowledge, but other than requiring students to memorize what they said in class, do they really do anything else?  Do students have opportunities to apply this knowledge in a meaningful, personal way? Or is this all education has become, to stand up in front, spout information and impress?

Notice that neither definition mentions learning on the part of anyone. I suppose it’s implied in that you’re showing something to someone, but that could just mean they’re listening, not necessarily learning.  As teachers, we’ve all seen it.  We have those times in front of the class when we see the eyes glaze over or they start staring at their shoes or up at the ceiling or they’re poking a friend just for fun, and we know we’ve lost them.  But there’s some comfort in that place for us up on that stage, right?  It’s the job of the student to listen and learn, isn’t it?

The problem is, learning involves engagement and if they’re not engaged, then all the great knowledge we have is worthless.  They need to get excited and WANT to learn and that is what our job should be about.  It’s during those excited, organized chaos times in our classes that real learning happens.  It’s that time when we let go and let them try things out, experiment, make mistakes and try again.  It’s loud and messy and not at all the organized world most of us work so hard to achieve.  After all, classroom management can become very precarious and what if an administrator walks by?  Do I have control of my class?  Maybe it’s not all about having complete control, maybe it’s all facilitating so THEY can ultimately have control.

As music educators, I think we’re under the mistaken idea that just because there is an instrument in their hand or they’re singing the notes on the page or participating in an activity that they’re learning.  Oh, maybe they’re engaged because they’re doing, but are they really learning or are you doing all of the work for them?  Are you directing every dynamic level, every tempo change?  Is everything done by rote your way? Are you correcting all of the wrong notes and bad intonation?  What’s going to happen when they eventually leave you?  Unless they have someone in front of them who is showing them what to do and saying all the right things and pointing out all of their flaws, they will never do this on their own.  They may be having fun, they may be engaged, but is this learning?

I’ll admit that I’m a control freak who wants to have complete control of my class and the content I’m teaching, but then, there’s that word again – teaching.  However,  I also know from experience that my kids learn more when I let them go – within parameters of course.  So maybe teacher or educator isn’t what we should be called.  Maybe I’m a professional learning facilitator or a life long learning coach instead.  Or maybe I SHOULD be.

I think philosophically, we all want kids to become creative, engaged, independent learners and we may feel that we’re stuck with making sure kids have the prescribed curriculum stuffed into their heads for the never ending assessments that follow.  However, what if, once in a while, we allowed a little organized chaos to invade our classrooms just to see what happens.  Same content, different delivery perhaps and not necessarily all from us. Maybe it’s time for us to match our philosophy with our methods so that students get excited and take charge of their own learning. And as for me, the self proclaimed control freak, I’ll just make it a two (or three) diet coke day and watch the learning happen amongst the chaos.

 

 

 

Intuition. Discernment.  Going with your gut.  Some say it isn’t logical and they would be the ones to make the pros and cons lists.  I’ve tried that and I just get distracted.  A pro or con might lead me to thinking about an entirely different subject and that just gets confusing.  As new age as it may sound,  I just need to get down deep and see how I feel about something, whether it’s a piece of clothing I want to buy, a job decision or a move I want to make.  While it may seem illogical, if I follow my gut, it tends to go well.

Moving to Nebraska was a total gut decision for both of us.  Thank goodness my husband thinks with his gut as well, all jokes aside.  Sorry Doug – I have no room to talk.  Anyway, he was offered two graduate teaching assistantships when he decided to go back to school.  One was a reasonable driving distance away from where we were, we wouldn’t have to uproot the kids, family was still close and I could find any number of jobs in the area.  The second offer was in Nebraska, 800 miles away from all of our friends, family, schools, and jobs.  It was an interesting idea, but it certainly made no sense at that point in our lives.  We visited both schools, came out of one visit saying, no, it just doesn’t feel right and the other saying, yep, this feels right.  So here we are, 18 years later in a totally illogical place.  However, in hindsight the response to move here based on that gut reaction proved to be one of the best things we could have done for many reasons.  I wonder how many people stay stuck where they are because they try to be safe and “logical”?

Oh, I’ve tried to do the safe, responsible, logical thing and at the very least it was a mistake and at the very most, a complete disaster.  Early in our move to Nebraska, when we were struggling a bit financially, I needed to go from a part time to a full time teaching job, even though I really liked the part time job I was doing.  It made more sense to make more money to take care of our family.  So I interviewed for a choral job at a private school and left feeling a little uneasy.  When the phone call came that I had gotten the job, I was relieved but still feeling uneasy, and didn’t know why.  As the year progressed and I found myself ridiculed for my chosen church denomination and conversion experience, among other things, I realized that the gut reaction had been correct.  No money was worth the harassment I received from both the staff and students.  I left after a year with no job prospect.  It was a scary time, and another illogical thing to do.  Until I was recommended for a job soon after that I eventually took and stayed at for 12 years.  Sometimes doing something illogical, like quitting a job before you have another one can lead to something even better.

I’m sure most people would say that this is a totally impractical, irresponsible way to live your life.  Others might say it’s an example of how to live by faith.  And just how bad could it be?  If I fail at one thing, I just try something else, right?  I heard a quote from Jennifer Lopez today that got me thinking.  I’m not some huge fan or anything, but some show was listing off all of her accomplishments and when asked about it, she said, when something comes up, she just tries it.  If it works – great.  If it doesn’t work, do something else.  It’s very simple.  No fear, just go for it.  I wish I had figured that out earlier in my life.

Two years ago, I made what might have been seen as an illogical move.  I left a school full of friends I had worked with for years for the experience of opening up a new school.  At my age, I think it was perceived as being unusual because I actually had people ask me why I decided to make this change now.  My answer was that I was doing something different, making me get out of a rut or safe place, and making me learn something new.  And it has.  I’ve learned new skills, met great people and saved tons of money in gas.  Did I make the right decision?  The years will tell, but I went with my gut.  It will be interesting to see where this illogical path will take me in the future.  After all, you only live once.

We are all products of our environment.  I am a freak about keeping your mouth closed when you chew, using adverbs correctly (notice the -ly there), asking MAY I go to the restroom rather than CAN I (my usual response being, “I don’t know, CAN you?”), checking for fire hazards which means moving anything flammable away from any electrical or heat source, and using my turn signal BEFORE I turn or change lanes while driving. It’s all my father’s fault of course. They’re the kinds of lessons he pounded into my head as I was growing up and I can honestly say, to this point, I’ve never had a fire in my home, oh, except when my youngest decided to find out how much tissue it took to make the flame higher on a candle – sigh,  AND, I have never had a ticket or an accident while driving in traffic.  I have however, backed into Doug’s car coming out of the garage  and hit a stationary pole and a stationary pay phone, which tells you how old I am and that traffic must be moving or I could hit it.

We were not a church going family, however, my father instilled in me respect for God, authority and adults.  He taught me to respect and take care of property, to pick up after myself (I’m still working on that) and not to use inappropriate language because with all the words in the English vocabulary, surely you could find something else to say.  You were to treat others as you wanted them to treat you.  My father spanked me only once that I remember and that was because I used a word I had heard at school and even though I had no idea what it meant I used it at home.  Note to self….

All this prologue to say, things have changed.  A LOT.  This has been an interesting year, to say the least, as I have more and more students who have a complete disregard for property, authority and each other.  I’ve talked about this before, but I’m starting to figure out, when we say to them “be safe, be respectful, be responsible”, even with some kind of explanation, they have no idea what it looks like.  And how could they?  Back in the day, there were boundaries.  Those who crossed the boundaries, whether it was familial or societal, incurred consequences, no matter their age.  However, we live in a time when, at least in our country, behavior doesn’t seem to matter.  It is a non-issue.  Inappropriate and disrespectful behavior is all around us and we’re complaining about it, but we’re also condoning it.  There is no black and white anymore as it has all become many shades of grey, allowing anyone to do anything and it must be accepted.  The problem is, when you adopt an “anything goes” attitude, others get hurt in the process.

So, where do we draw the line and are the lines different?  Among family and/or friends?  Workplaces?  Communities, Cultures, Churches, Country?  Where are the lines that if they are crossed, we know there will be consequences?  I’m afraid nobody seems to be able to answer that anymore because, pardon my language, we’ve become a nation of weeny butts.  Yes, you heard me right – weeny butts!  Everyone is afraid to draw lines when there is a point where behavior becomes unacceptable.  Oh sure, your tolerance level may be much higher than mine, but for the good of our society, for our KIDS, there has got to be a much more black and white solution to the problem of disrespectful and irresponsible people.  We just become a part of the problem when we don’t speak up.  I really think there are a lot of great people out there who want to speak up but they’re afraid of being judged and ridiculed, and in this culture, that could actually be unsafe.  So many of them pretend that it’s okay, saying it’s just the way things are now.  Words aren’t that important and it’s all about me. At least it seems that way, but it doesn’t have to be.

Here’s a silly example.  When I was a little kid (and kids are still this way), potty humor was hysterical, right?  Saying words like pee and poop brought out tons of giggles.  After a while, I began labeling it middle school humor, because now it seemed it was okay for middle schoolers to hang on to that elementary mentality.  Now we have adults watching things like Bridesmaids and The Hangover – parts I, II and III, about adults acting like – wait for it – middle schoolers and it is box office gold.  And let me tell you, there’s nothing like a middle school mindset of legal age.  We call ourselves adults, but it’s hard to tell when we’re still behaving like children.  No wonder kids are confused.  In a lot of cases, they’re just mimicking the behavior they’re seeing in the adults around them.  They don’t understand what we mean when we ask them to respect adults because there are fewer and fewer adults for them to see.

Today I used an analogy for one of my classes that was displaying disrespectful behaviors like heavy sighs when asked to do something, eye rolling, whining, etc.  I asked them about our current president and if they thought he misbehaved.  They all said yes.  Then I asked them what kinds of things does he do to misbehave?  They came up with quite a few things.  I then asked several questions; do you think people like him?  Do people want to be his friend?  And then I posed this scenario to them.  Don’t you think it’s a little sad that nobody taught him how to behave?  And the room got quiet.  And because nobody taught him to behave and gave him consequences when he behaved disrespectfully, look what we have.  And he probably has no real friends.  Isn’t that sad?  This is when I explained to them that I was trying to teach them how to be respectful so that they would do the right thing, treat people and things well and people would like and trust them.

I’m not speaking politically here, just behaviorally.  Isn’t it a shame that I can use the president of our country as an example of how NOT to behave and how boundaries/rules need to be set for everyone, including people like the president so that everyone has a better life?  So, I ask you, when did wrong become right and right become wrong?  How can we right the wrongs and become real adults, not just fake “adulting” so that our kids have great examples to look up to and learn how to respect?

Life is a funny thing.  One day you think you’re on one trajectory and the next – BOOM!  Things can change overnight.  Highs and lows, joy and sorrow, daily reminders of how all the details in our lives can go in any direction at any time.  God closing doors and opening windows.  How do you choose to go through the right windows when the time comes?  Are you going blindly or on blind faith?  Little knowing if that one decision is the one that either turns your life around or throws you to the depths.

I was speaking to a friend of mine at lunch duty today, and she said that social media tends to be the “highlight film” of our lives.  Most people put all of the wonderful family gatherings, the exciting trips, the happy additions and changes in their lives on social media, always posed to look their very best, of course.  And it’s fun to live vicariously through them for a while.  Or be jealous,  Anyway, very seldom does someone get real and say,  I’m struggling and I need help.  Not in a complaining way but in a way that tells others, I’m human like you and I can’t do this on my own.  Most of us don’t want to do that.  We feel like others will think we’re just trying to get attention and that’s uncomfortable.  And maybe we are.  That tells us something real as well.

I needed help yesterday and I hesitated slightly before putting it out there for the world to see.  What I received in return were promises of prayers, offers of help, offers to get together, texts and friends stopping me this morning to ask how I was.  I had friends who also kept it real by sharing similar struggles and how they not just sympathize but empathize. That’s what could and should be the power of social media.  It’s humanity in the midst of what seems like constant inhumanity.  When we’re real and honest with each other, you find out who those people are who really care, and I mean REALLY care.  It’s humbling and yet eye opening when you realize that these people you see or read about every day  who always seem to have it together, maybe in reality, don’t.

How many times during the day do you ask someone how they’re doing?  They say “good” and then they ask “how are you?” and you also respond with “good”.  Happens all the time.  Some of it is just time management, sometimes how I am is nobody’s business, sometimes it’s really just “good” and sometimes I’m afraid of judgement if I share the truth.  Not everyone is empathetic to each person’s efforts at keeping it real.  I mean, how do you tell someone, for instance, that someone said something to you that made you flashback to a moment with an abusive parent?  How do you say to them that you’re having financial difficulties or marital problems or issues with your children that you don’t know how to deal with?  It’s just easier to say “good” and hold  it all in when the “how are you doing” opens up a Pandora’s box of issues too heavy for someone to handle in a casual greeting.

That’s one of the reasons why when I see a child who is struggling or having a bad day and I ask how they are, if they say “ok”, I ask again and add, “are you sure?”.  Just those three words can be enough to let them know that I’m ready to listen to whatever it is.  Sometimes it’s something small like they miss mom while they’re at school and they need a hug.  Sometimes it’s something much bigger and then we can get more help.  It’s important that adults are there to allow them to keep it real when they need to.  Of course, you take the chance of having them tell you all about their loose tooth or their hangnail, but those things are important too.  After all, those are the things we can empathize with.

At lunch today, some of my 4th grade girls were talking about a film they have to watch.  You know – “the film“.  Anyway, they were talking about how embarrassing it was and how they had to read a book with their mom and now it was even more embarrassing with their teacher.  So I took a minute with them, as a mother and as a woman to assure them that while they might be uncomfortable now, we were all a family of women who have been strong enough to survive this time of life and as time went on, they would be okay too and we were all in this together.  They seemed a tiny bit reassured as they smiled at me.  Maybe they were just humoring the old lady, but for a 4th grade girl, it doesn’t get more real than that.

So for my friends and family who came to my rescue yesterday when I needed it, I am grateful for you allowing me to keep it real.  Everything is better today and I was able to sit down and think more clearly about details and next steps.  I’m choosing to step out on faith and if a door closes, a window will open somewhere else.  Life is full of adventurous details and you just never know what will happen next.  But I do know where I can go if I need help during the journey.