Teaching at an elementary school means that things happen that sometimes you just can’t anticipate.  Like a meeting I had this morning. There we were, sitting around the table, having a lovely discussion when we hear “I think I just ate some paper!”.  Totally out of context, having nothing to do with anything we were talking about.  You might think I’m talking about one of the kids, but I’m not.  I’m talking about a colleague.

Team meetings are lot like my classes – you just never know what’s going to happen.  Today we had nothing on the agenda, other than celebrating another colleagues’s birthday.  And, seeing that it’s us, of course we celebrated with donuts.  Doughnuts held by a napkin by said previous colleague. Napkin partially eaten with said doughnut apparently.

We’re an interesting bunch, this specialist team, and despite having been together slightly less than two years, we’ve created a pretty good bond.  This is not to say we’re all alike – oh no, not by a long shot.  We come from different backgrounds, are a variety of ages and different genders, with different experiences.  We all came from different schools, all run very differently and we’ve somehow managed to gel our ideas and experiences pretty well without killing each other, although I’m sure we’ve all thought about it at one time or another during this transition to a new school.

In this short amount of time, we’ve eaten together and had drinks together, we’ve  supported a team member during the loss of a parent and celebrated another’s engagement.  One of our team loves to bake, or at least bakes REALLY well and we all benefit from her talent.  We text each other with news, funny stories, Kentucky basketball and promises of those yummy baked goods.  Did I mention we like to eat together?  We talk about kids, possible grandkids, sports, wedding plans, parents and in-laws, usually with irreverence with just a hint of of sarcasm, a lot of humor and a pinch of love thrown in.

We’re the only ones in the building who understand the pros and cons of being labeled a “specialist”.  Not always treated like a “real” teacher but expected to do everything a “real” teacher does, teaching the “fun” subjects that obviously aren’t as important or as hard as the “real” subjects.  On the other hand, we get to teach the subjects where so many kids just shine, those kids who maybe struggle elsewhere, those kids who we can see have special gifts in our areas.  The kids we can encourage because we too chose an area  we have a passion for, despite the difficulty of teaching 400+ students.  We are the ones in the building who will get to work with these students for six years of their lives, watching them grow and learn, and building relationships with them other teachers will never be lucky enough to have.  We are also the ones who can see when strategies aren’t working for some kids over the years because we see them struggle with the same behaviors over and over.

We are a strange little family with the bickering mom and dad, the bullied baby boy and the sage old grandmother who is old enough to know when to stay out of stuff with a younger sister we don’t get to see very often but hopefully more next year.  We all work hard in our respective areas and tend to be control freaks about what we do and how we do it.  We are all consummate professionals who want to be the best we can be to represent our school, faculty and specialty area, sometimes at a state and national level.  There has never been any professional jealousy – we all encourage and congratulate each other for our opportunities and accomplishments.  Yes, we are your basic, loving dysfunctional family.

I’ve had the opportunity to work with some great specialists over the years and they have become wonderful friends.  But this bunch is special and not just because one of us eats paper.  This bunch has taken a leap of faith to leave something comfortable to join a brand new bunch of people to create a brand new family. And I for one am glad we did, if for nothing else, for the baked goods.

I had this grandiose idea.  You know, I was a relatively young parent, my first at 23, my second at 27 and my last at 30.  I was, to put it mildly, clueless.  The example I had grown up with of what parenthood should look like was greatly flawed and I fell right into what I knew. I learned more as I got older, but I have always felt guilty about my early parenting skills. So, back to the grandiose idea.  When my son and daughter in law made the decision to only work to adopt one child, I thought, Doug and I could adopt, right?  After all, I think I would make a much better parent now, and maybe I could make up for all the mistakes I made in the past right?

But this past weekend we kept our foster grandson overnight and he caught the flu.  And I remembered how hard it was, being so very responsible for someone, trying to make good decisions for someone’s life and just how plain exhausting it was.  It was a great reminder as to why lives have seasons and that season of my life has come and gone.  As much as I THINK I would like to step into the past a little, the truth is, I really don’t.  What is done is done and looking back does not help.

The great thing about life is that we DO get the chance for the occasional do-over.  I DID end up going back to school and finishing my degree after I quit the first time.  I also wasted time, sitting and feeling sorry for myself for awhile, looking back and regretting my decision, but then I decided to step forward into the future and do something about it.  The past can certainly be the impetus to go forward, but dwelling in the past can be a dangerous place to be.

All of the “I wish I hads” and “I should haves” don’t do us a bit of good.  Maybe you should have done something different, but what are you doing now?  Maybe your additional life experience is pushing you into a completely different direction than you would have taken before.  You never know.  Relationships for me are the big “what ifs” for me.  What if I have behaved this way or said this or been afraid to make a move?  Would it have changed my trajectory in life, would I have ended up with someone else, somewhere else, doing something else?  It messes with your mind a bit when you think about this, knowing that some people wouldn’t be here now if you hadn’t made the decisions you made, that some people wouldn’t have been touched in a positive way because you were there at the right time and that you would have probably missed some great people in your life.

As the control freak you all know I am,  it has always been hard for me to let go and let God.  As I’ve gotten older however, I think I’ve learned to listen better to that still small voice.  Or for me, because it’s ME, sometimes it has to be a booming voice that pushes me in another direction.  And I’ve also learned to lean on a special scripture;

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord.  Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.

It says nothing about dwelling in the past, only of hope and a future.  That has helped me so many times when something has not gone my way or when I start regretting things that have happened in the past or start dwelling in the dark recesses of my past.  I still have a future, with plans to prosper me and not to harm me.  It doesn’t say it will be easy and it doesn’t say I’ll always agree, but this is where the faith and trust part comes in because someone else much wiser than me can see the big picture.  To look forward into the future with hope is a wonderful thing – it takes quite a bit of the stress away.

I know now that trying to step back in time and become a parent again is not the road to take, but I CAN be the best grandparent I can be, maybe using some of the lessons learned to help a pair of new parents.  It’s a new season, one with new plans and new adventures and certainly no time to dwell in the past!

Yesterday as I clicked on the final link, I realized that this was going to be the last one.  When we moved to Nebraska almost 18 years ago, I laughed when I received my first one because I thought, what a waste!  We’re only going to be here a couple of years.  Boy, was I wrong!  It was a lot like getting my Nebraska driver’s license.  I was just going to have to get another one somewhere else soon.  But here it is, 18 years and I’ve applied for my last teaching certificate.

I’ve been avoiding the “R” word for some time now.  I received my first AARP notification at age 49 and I’ve ignored them now for almost 10 years.  Retired and AARP sound old and I just don’t feel old –  most days – so I’ve stubbornly refused to give in.  However, the last several years have been a bit of a struggle as I find myself at odds with current educational practices.  I struggle with whether or not I’m old school or if some of these practices are just wrong.  I struggle with the idea of less and less control in my classroom and more and more questionable job descriptions being added to my resume.  I’ve joked about technology for years and my computer teacher friends would suggest I just need to stay away.  But now I question the amount of screen time children spend, especially in light of some new research, I worry that there is less recess, more testing, scripted lessons, and well, the  list goes on and on.

I have friends who have retired; some were excited, some felt it was just their time but continued to sub, some looking forward to the free time, some dreading it, some already finding ways to fill it.  I think I’m looking at it as a new opportunity for a new direction.  Maybe another degree, maybe another career.  Maybe writing full time.  There are so many possibilities.  The last five years have gone so fast and I know the next five will go even faster.  I’m starting to feel a little pressure to make plans.

The passing of the torch will be a good thing.  There are so many young, passionate teachers who will do a great job passing on their love of music to our young people.  My fear is that they have no point of reference in terms of how education used to be.  I’m not saying everything was great, but I remember a day when teachers were more respected, when they were allowed to make decisions as to what needed to be taught when based on their students’ needs, and allowed to dole out consequences that matched their students’ inappropriate behaviors if need be.  I know the pendulum tends to swing both ways and I’m hoping we’ll eventually stop throwing the baby out with the bath water and return to  some of the things that just made common sense, those things that teachers just know inherently, but right now, things are, well, just a little scary.

In the meantime, I’m starting to get excited about the possibilities.  Last year, a young teacher asked me why I decided to change schools to open up a new school after I had been teaching so long and my simple answer was that I needed a change.  I needed something to make me a little uncomfortable and challenge me. The minute we stop learning and changing is the minute we begin getting old.  Getting older is inevitable, but getting old is definitely an option and I choose not to get old just yet.  So, we’ll see about AARP, but for now, I have applied for my last teaching certificate.

In terms of children, there’s not a whole lot that bothers or scares me.  I’ve raised three boys and I’ve taught school for 27 years.  There have literally been thousands of kids in my life and in my school environment, where at the very least I control the parameters of what they do, there are very few surprises.

In terms of relationships, I think I’ve been an okay wife, sister, mom, aunt.  Not great, but okay and as to how good a daughter I was, well the jury is still out.  But now I have this new relationship with a smart, funny, energetic red headed boy who considers me grandma.  I had the chance to watch him overnight while my son and daughter in law were busy and it was the usual stuff.  We ate fast food, went to a movie, watched him play video games, watched him get the flu – all things that I can deal with.  I’m good at the “doing” thing.  I do it all the time – ha!  When he got sick last night I kicked into take charge mom mode because that’s what I do.  But this morning, after he finished playing video games, he looked at me and said, I want to do an activity.  I asked, what kind of activity?  He said, I don’t know, something crafty.  Grandmas are supposed to do crafty things.  That scared me.

I’m going to share with you, as most of my friends know, that I am totally craft impaired.  I mean seriously.  Like any Pinterest fail you would ever see would be me.  I don’t make things, I don’t knit, I don’t sew, I don’t do art (unless you want something that looks like a five year old did it.).  I have no hobbies to speak of, other than this blog and I’m not sure that passes for a grandma craft.  The closest I had were coloring pages and colored pencils.  But according to my little red head, grandmas do crafty things.

Pretty sure if you’re going to be a crafty grandma you needed to be a crafty mom.  Or at the very least be able to do something with your hands.  However, even when it came to baking, this mom on occasion would make slice and bake cookies, or better yet, those Toll House cookies that come in the squares that you just set on a cookie sheet and they actually come out like cookies! I didn’t do crafts on rainy days or snow days, and I only recently began going to craft stores where, to be honest, if I don’t have something specific to get, I’m lost.  The last time I went I bought some blue yarn.  The lady at the register asked me what I was going to make and I told her I was going to cut lengths of the yarn for my elementary kids to use to demonstrate melodic contour on the floor.  The drawn out “okaaay” said everything.  Obviously I wasn’t using the material for what it was meant to be used for.

Now, if this kid would like to word smith a mission and vision statement or put together a leadership conference, I’m there.  I will never be the knitting/baking cookies kind of grandma as I was never that type of mom.  Sometimes I think I would like to be, but it’s just not my thing.  I would actually love to be the Auntie Mame kind of grandma, the one who takes the grandkid on great adventures to see and do new things.  That’s a bit more up my alley.  I can see myself taking him to movies or to play miniature golf or bowling or hitting balls in the batting cage.  I could see picnics in the park or taking a trip to the beach or visiting a museum,  but I should probably stay away from a glue gun because more than one of us would get hurt.

As I told my little red head this morning, I’m new at this grandma thing and it’s going to take me a while to figure it out.  What I HAVE figured out is that I just have to remain me while making sure he knows I love him and care about him, despite the fact that I’m not a crafty grandma.

I really didn’t think it was a loaded question.  I usually ask the kids what they thought of their symphony field trip and generally get positive comments in return.  Not today.  There was a mini-explosion of voices with all kinds of comments, very few of them positive.  The biggest word that kept coming through however was not really a word at all.  The word was “kiddish”.

My kids either mispronounce or make up words all the time but this was new.  When I asked them to elaborate, here was one of the explanations. “They didn’t talk to us like we were 4th graders.  They talked to us like we were 2nd graders or something.  Sometimes like Kindergarten or 1st graders.  It was too kiddish”.  Another said “they asked us easy stuff, stuff we already knew like we didn’t know anything“.

So much of the time we assume that kids are much more worldly than they used to be, whether it’s because of technology or whatever, but for some reason in music, we don’t give them enough credit for being the consumers of music that they are. After all, these kids aren’t listening to Sharon, Lois and Bram or even KidzBop like my elementary kids used to.  They consume the same music everyone else listens to, whether it’s on TV, YouTube, or Spotify and they can tell you in an instant if something is a bad arrangement of a song they know.  It’s what makes it hard to find the kinds of pop tunes they want to do in choir, for instance.  They have a certain sound in their head and if it’s done poorly they want nothing to do with it.  Of course, there has to be some explaining done in terms of music written with a soloist in mind versus with a choir, but in terms of the arrangement itself, kids are pretty savvy.  And it’s hard to find an adult arranger who doesn’t insult the kids by writing something too “cute”, just because they’re kids.

It’s the same when you get them used to listening to other genres of music and make them familiar with musical terminology. Once they learn the words, they don’t want to be spoken down to. However, the biggest thing that surprised me about our discussion was their take on the atmosphere at the symphony.

Now, don’t get me wrong, my kids are not always angels, but they remind me a lot of my own kids when they were younger.  Their behavior at home was sometimes ridiculous, but when they would go out in public to let’s say, a wedding or a concert, my kids understood that this was a circumstance where they needed to show respect and behave themselves.  I think this is what happened here.  They were floored by the behavior of other concertgoers, the yelling, the standing up by not only students but by teachers, the seemingly lack of preparation on the part of teachers in preparing their students for this event – their words. And here’s what I thought was interesting.  They put part of the blame on the “maestro” as they called him, for yelling questions at the students.  I mean, let’s be honest. I understand that we don’t want to make the symphony going experience a stiff, boring, older generational, class separating kind of thing anymore.  But at the same time, there needs to be respect paid to the hard working musicians and others who are there to hear the music.  That last statement came from my kids, not me.  I was pretty impressed.

Finally, the kids shared one more thing that surprised me.  They didn’t like the puppets, (they were “stupid” – I made them explain why and that set up another tirade), the adults talked too much and they just wanted to hear the music.  All of the music with no interruptions.  That’s the thing, we spent time studying each movement of the music in detail, we talked about respecting the musicians and how to behave at a concert, and how to dress for a concert and what they witnessed wasn’t anything they expected and they were disappointed.  I think it was because my expectation for them was to rise up to the occasion and for some reason there were adults who decided to lower their expectations because they were just kids.  It was made too “kiddish”.

We can see what happens to a society, even with adults when there are lowered expectations.  I’ve often found that when the expectations are raised that most people rise to meet them.  I know that I tend to up my game when expectations for me are high.  I consider it a challenge.  So instead of “dumbing down” things for kids, why not challenge them so that one day they will be adults we can all be proud of, capable of being kind, respectful and responsible who can also listen to and understand challenging pieces of music, none of them “kiddish”.

It has been two weeks since the shooting in Parkland, Florida and since that time I’ve seen articulate young people speaking out about the event and what they feel needs to happen.  These same young people have been referred to as “kids” by both the media and lawmakers.  I know how it is – I tend to call college students “kids” just because I’m older, and well, all of my own “kids” are older than that now.  It’s just easy to slip into.  However, it can also cause me to not take what they think and say seriously because they are so young and have so much left to learn.  After, I am the voice of reason and experience, right?

Well, here’s unpleasant truth.  The minute those “kids” were shot at and watched their classmates die horrible deaths, they were no longer kids.  They have been thrust into an insane adult world and the fact that they can function at all, much less organize themselves to speak out the way they have is beyond admirable.  And yet, it seems that the media and our lawmakers, while sympathetic (for now) don’t feel it necessary to take into consideration what these kids have to say.

I recently spoke to a couple of parents who have three boys.  Three very lively boys, who sometimes get along and sometimes don’t.  Loudly.  It’s frustrating, it’s exhausting and it can make parents feel like things are hopeless.  It makes you question if you have any idea as to what you’re doing. I know I once felt the same way.  But as my boys have grown to adulthood, I know I can honestly tell parents that yes, it will get better.

This is going to be a short blog today because I’m home with the flu.  Doug has been gone all day in meetings and is teaching a class this evening, so I’ve kinda been on my own.  Sleeping mostly, but still on my own.  But as I type this, one of my sons is making dinner for us, has washed dishes and checks in to see what I need.  Last week he babysat his brother’s foster child for which his brother paid him, even though he didn’t want to be paid.  Because that’s just what brothers do for each other.

Another son called one day to ask if they could drop in after school and volunteered to bring dinner for everyone.  My third son contacted his younger brother and volunteered to help him with his driving.  He called the other day just to see if his dad and I would meet him for lunch just to touch base.

My boys are three completely different human beings with different likes and dislikes, different lifestyles, different political and philosophical ideas.  And yet, they all believe that brothers stick together, no matter what.  My biggest concern, since I was definitely NOT their friend while they were growing up,  was that we would not be close when they were adults.  I was wrong.  While there are times when we don’t agree on things, we know we love each other and that is what drives how we treat each other.

So as I contemplate taking another quick cat nap while dinner is cooking, I’m grateful for my sons, as difficult as it was to raise them.  While not perfect, I mean, we are human after all, the result has been pretty darn good and I feel blessed to have them.  It DID get better.  Much better.

I took a chance.  I decided not to get the flu shot again this year, mainly because the last time I got it I got the worst flu ever.  My doctor, sounding a little exasperated, told me you can’t get the flu by getting the flu vaccine but in the next breath said something about if it’s the wrong strain, the flu shot doesn’t help anyway.  So I took my chances.

As a veteran teacher, I do believe I have a super power, that being that I’ve built up some immunity to all the stuff that floats around school.  To this point I have used none of my sick leave this year and I have accumulated enough sick leave that I could take off for over two months if I needed to.  But here I am, contemplating taking a day off tomorrow because I can feel it coming on.  Slight fever, little aches, cough. Should I have gotten the flu shot or would it have happened anyway?

Normally I would be fighting this more.  After all, it would mean getting plans together for a sub, probably popping into school to get stuff set up despite how I feel.  I feel like I’ve been pushing through this year, going from one event to another and the last few weeks have been crazy.  However, I have been blessed with a more than capable student teacher who knows how things go and there are no major things going on this week where I have to run something, so I may stay home.  Am I giving in?  Should I fight more?  How logical is this?  Most people get sick and just stay home and take care of themselves.  Teachers are the only people I know who actually debate with themselves whether or not they’re sick enough to stay home.

The sad thing is, is that if I had a major event this week, I would drug up and make it work.  I would probably sleep every other possible second and push through.  Is this healthy?  Probably not but as teachers, especially music teachers who have events every day of the week, including weekends, we learn to suck it up and make it work.  If I’m going to blame anyone, it would be my high school band director, whom I love dearly, but he’s the one who taught us that unless you’re on your death bed you go to rehearsal or you go to your performance.  I missed one rehearsal during my high school years and missed no performances.  The only reason I missed the rehearsal was because I had the flu with 103 temp and my parents wouldn’t let me go.  I can remember feeling so embarrassed when my mom called my director to say I wouldn’t be going, despite the fact that it was logical not to send me.

Teachers are a tough bunch.  The reason we’ve survived all of the stuff that has been thrown at us, additional duties as assigned (too many to list), larger classes, fewer resources is because we’re tough, intelligent, passionate and driven to do what we do well.  We will do whatever it takes to make things work because we are committed to children.  We think quickly on our feet because it’s what we do as teachers.  Those outside of the teaching profession are attempting to push one new thing on us, assuming that we’ll follow the usual pattern of sucking it up and making it work.  But I’m beginning to feel and see a change.

In a profession where 50% of new teachers will be gone after five years, those of us who have stuck it out are strong.  While there were armed men outside the building where 17 people were killed, there were hero teachers inside who used their intelligence and passion for children to step into places they never imagined, adding other duties to their already bulging list to save others.

So, what is battling the flu compared to that?  Nothing.  But just like deciding whether or not to get the flu shot, when it comes to having to have a weapon at school, the answer is no and I’ll take my chances.  Because I’m tough.

“Good afternoon Kindergarten!”  “Good afternoon Princess Belle!”  “Say good afternoon to Mrs. Bush.”  “Good afternoon Queen Bush!”.  One of my Kindergarten classes has decided to give us titles.  My student teacher, Miss Bell, has been referred to as Princess Belle from Beauty and the Beast, with a lot of my older students even spelling her name that way.  So, when greeting students a few weeks ago, this particular class decided to greet her with a title.  Feeling bad because she had one and I didn’t, I was then conferred with the title “Queen”, as is appropriate since my room is my kingdom.

Just for fun, I decided to write down things the kids blurted out at the beginning of class and during their first activity.  It went something like this.

I’m so tired.

I’m a bat.  I can make bat sounds cause I watched Diego.  (This little girl had her coat on with the hood up and holding out the coat like wings).

I wrote a music note on my hand.

Everybody looks like they’re bowing to you!

I learned it at Little Kingdom.  (a song we were introducing to the class).

I have gloves on. (A little girl kept her gloves and was trying to play the game where you have to hold an object)

I need a high five.

Can I tell you a question?

I haven’t got to be in the middle.

You have to close your eyes. ( for our listening game – telling other kids what to do.  It happens a LOT : )

Their teeth are poisonous for rattlesnakes. (Movement for game slithering like snakes).

Of course, among the blurting is the usual “I have to go potty” or “can I get a drink?” or “I need a tissue” or “can you tie my shoes?”.  These little people depend on us and want to share everything with us.  My room is a place for fun, creativity, play and LEARNING!  Most of them are comfortable with the routine, the space and look forward to new things.  It’s home. While we learn music, we learn about sharing, kindness, cooperation, responsibility, and respectfulness.  Do they do those things well all the time?  No, but that’s why we’re LEARNING.  Speaking of learning, despite the blurting and distractions, here’s what they learned:  singing alone and with others, matching pitches, working on large motor skills, and steady beats.  The foundational skills that bring out the musician we all have inside of us.

Parents will come to me during parent teacher conferences and tell me that their child enjoys music or has fun in music.  They also have questions about what they are learning and how things are assessed.  So the other night, the specialists invited parents to come to our rooms in a rotation and be the students in our classes.  I wish you could have seen their faces when I told them what we were going to do.  I was told later that it made them a little uncomfortable, but to their credit, they each tried things I asked them to do.

Because singing tends to be the thing parents THINK they understand but actually know the least about, that’s what I decided to focus on.  So, we started with quick kindergarten, 1st and 2nd grade lessons where we not only focused on singing certain pitches but also played instruments on steady beats and played a game working on individual steady beats.   The moms in the group were pretty enthusiastic to try but the dads on the other hand were really uncomfortable, one of them actually wrapping his arms around his legs while sitting on the floor and putting his head down. Much like his son actually, and it explained a lot to me as a teacher. The great thing was that some of these parents brought their students with them and they did the activities as well.  As I listened to everyone individually, I was able to explain how listening had a huge effect on how well we matched pitch and I was able to help the kids especially adjust their pitches to match mine.  The looks on parents’ faces said it all.  The kids not only sang by themselves for me but also tried to make the adjustments I asked for if they had some difficulty.  There was much encouragement and we applauded every improvement. In the process, we actually found out that more often than not, the dads matched pitch pretty well but just really needed encouragement in terms of believing in themselves.

It does upset me a bit that somewhere along the line, someone either told these people that they couldn’t sing, or didn’t give them strategies or techniques to improve how they matched pitch.  And because they mistakenly believe that singing is a talent, not a skill, and that talents (or lack of) can be passed on to their children, they give their children excuses as to why they can’t or won’t be able to sing.  It brings back bad memories for some adults and causes some to not take our subject seriously.

You see, just like my kindergartners who believe we are in a fairy tale kingdom with a Princess and a Queen, they also believe I can help them sing because someone hasn’t told them yet that they can’t.  So I have my work cut out for me, waving my magic wand to help these kids believe in themselves enough to master the skills and experience a world of beauty and magic that will last them a lifetime.  Whether or not they choose to pursue it later as a career or a hobby or just become an aficionado of the art form, this Queen believes in them and what they can do.

You know friends, I’ve had this all wrong.  Here I’ve been fighting against turning our schools into prisons with guards and guns, fences and cameras.  What was I thinking?  When I compare what prison inmates have as compared to our public school children, maybe I need to rethink this.

So, let’s see here.  My school district is able to spend a little over $10,800 per student which is just slightly less than the U.S. average.  This is no small amount but when you count in the cost of personnel, building and maintenance, equipment, etc., that money is stretched pretty far.  Not far enough to hire enough mental health professionals or provide all the supplies every child needs.  Thank goodness we have kind parents who kick in every year and help provide those much needed every day items!  Teachers rely on foundations and grants to fund things they need in their classrooms rather than on tax dollars.  Teachers are a creative bunch because they have to be.

So, let’s now compare that to dollars spent per inmate in our prison system.  In 2015, the average annual cost per inmate in Nebraska was @$38,000.  Now, math was never my best subject, but that comes to about three times what we’re spending per pupil.  I realize it’s no picnic in prison, but imagine if this was reversed.  Prisoners are provided 2-3 bland meals per day (as described in an article I read).  Children and their families have to apply to qualify for free and reduced lunches and breakfast but everyone else pays.  While you might say, the lunches are better at school, I would say, yes, but I would imagine there’s quite a bit of soy in there disguised at meat and usually, it’s pretty bland as well.

Prisoners get medical treatment.  This includes needed treatments for diseases like cancer and diabetes and needed surgeries.  This costs the taxpayers in the billions of dollars.  We currently have children in our public school system with no healthcare who can’t afford to see a doctor or dentist.  So I’m thinking maybe this prison idea isn’t so bad.  If we paid the same for children as we did for inmates, imagine the investment we would be making in the future!  So, if turning our schools into prisons includes increasing what we spend on them for things they really need, well, maybe I need to rethink my position!

All of this of course is tongue in cheek, but I’ve heard it said you can tell where a person’s priorities are based on what is written in his checkbook.  Where do we as Americans choose to spend our money?   Where do our public government officials choose to spend our money? Who is more of a priority, our children or prison inmates?   I’m pretty sure our checkbooks have spoken.  People argue that we need to treat inmates humanely but at what cost?  Our public schools, public school teachers and students haven’t been treated well in a long time and each time a tragedy occurs in our schools, we mourn for a while and brush it off until the next one.  Because it hasn’t affected US.  Are we waiting for the tragedy of dying children to hit us personally before we do something about it?  Is turning our schools into prisons the answer?

I saw today where the President made a suggestion that perhaps teachers could be paid more if they chose to carry a gun at school.  Maybe I’m wrong, but every teacher I know would turn that down flat.  And I’ll be honest, if it was mandated that I carry a gun to teach, I would quit my job.  I love my kids but I will not carry a gun.  What would the public do if teachers walked off the job?  We’re currently not gaining enough new teachers to take our place because let’s face it, who wants to work in a field where you don’t get paid as much as other professionals, you don’t get the same respect as other professions, everyone tries to tell you how to do your job and oh yes, you might get shot at.  Why in the world would anyone in their right mind want to do this?

I realize there are other things we spend money on, other than inmates, that take money away from education.  And I’m sure people have great reasons to spend money on all those other things.  But I would argue that the proper education of our children, our greatest resource, in a safe environment, by qualified teachers, with all the resources they need should be one of our top priorities.  And if it takes making our schools a prison to get those things, maybe I should rethink my stance.