There are few shows in my lifetime that were “must sees”.  Oh, when I was a kid, there were Saturday morning cartoons, way before cartoon networks, and I had a crush on Peter Brady on “The Brady Bunch”.  Once into adulthood, there have only been a handful of shows that I’ve scheduled or made time to watch.  Grace and Frankie is the new show I couldn’t wait to begin its new  season.  The two characters, played by Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda are 78 and 80 years young respectively, and you wouldn’t think I would feel any kinship to the characters, but I do.

I read an article today interviewing Jane Fonda about this resurgence in her career.  Now, whatever you may think of her, and I respect all opinions, I find it amazing that an 80 year old actress is breaking barriers in a business that reeks of ageism, especially when it comes to women.  And in this article, she goes through her thought process as she has aged, different milestones and how she perceives the way she has changed over the years.  And I could relate.  At nearly 50, she decided that she had lost her creativity and she could no longer act and for nearly 16 years, stayed out of the business.  However, in her sixties, she started figuring out who she was and where she wanted to go and now at 80, she’s starring in her new show, feeling better than ever and looking forward to learning and doing new things.

I can relate because aging is certainly a process.  My childhood is mostly a blur and my teenage years were full of band, school, friends and boyfriends.  In my twenties, still feeling (and looking very young), I was once mistaken for one of my husband’s students.  Not a bad thing.  In my late twenties and thirties I was married, working and raising three kids.  There was no time to be concerned about age.  Well, except when I went back to school and became pregnant with my third child before I graduated.  I was quite the oddity in my music classes.

Then I hit 40 and it hit me like a ton of bricks.  This was it.  I was officially old.  I started looking at what I was wearing and what I WANTED to wear and it just wasn’t happening with this mom body.  I would never be young again, never have as much energy, never be less wrinkled.  It was depressing.  I was seeing what my mom looked like to me when I was in high school in the mirror.  But, a funny thing happens as you get older.  People begin to take you seriously.

Mid to late 40’s got better and better.  I began to figure out who I was, what I thought I wanted in terms of my career, became more involved in organizations.  I was needed to supervise student teachers.  My age and experience were now proof of my worth apparently, and it felt good.  People began assuming that I knew more than I did and I was willing to give things a try because of it.  Then I hit the big 50.  And you know what?  So far, the 50’s have been great.

You know how people talk about old people and how they’re not afraid to say things?  Well, turns out, that’s pretty true.  Of course, I still try to temper what I say with kindness and respect, but I’ve learned to be honest with people about what I think and feel.  I think I’ve earned that now and I feel a confidence I’ve never felt in my life.  And being wrong is not such a bad thing.  I used to beat myself up for years when I felt like I messed something up.  Now, not so much.  Now, this is a fairly recent development and boy is it great.  I’ve figured out that even I am still learning.

Later this year I will begin my last year in my 50’s and will be looking at the Big 6-0.  Sometimes when I think about it, I cringe a little.  It’s a big number.  Even if I live to 90 I’ll have lived 2/3 of my life.  It’s a little weird.  But I’m also looking forward to it, because if the years to come are anything like the last several years, I can look forward to grand adventures, doing things I’ve always wanted to do, doing things I love to do and doing them with people I love.  I’m still making plans for the future of things I want to accomplish, maybe work on a degree, maybe think of another career.  I have ideas and want the opportunity to try them, to help people, to make things better in education.  I could get a lot done in another 20-30 years.

My dad always told me that my busiest, most productive part of my life would be in my 40’s, and while I was in my 40’s, busy with marriage, kids and career, I was in total agreement.  But now that I look back, I think I was more distracted by those things than I was productive.  NOW, I feel productive.  Now I feel like I have a voice and can share my experiences with others.  And to all my women friends out there, if my experience is worth anything, I’m here to tell you IT GETS BETTER.  I’m sure there will be roadblocks and life changes along the way, but I’m still alive and like a great wine, working to become aged to perfection.

 

Questions are an essential part of learning.  As teachers we WANT our students to ask questions just as we work on higher level questioning for our students.  Once in a while, I’ll hit that sweet spot where kids are really thinking and the questions spark some great discussions.  I live for those times.  Seriously.  Because most of my day is spent answering either the same questions over and over again, “what if” questions and questions that should never have been asked in the first place.

My third graders are getting ready to do a musical and the scripts are going out this week.  I asked if anyone had any questions (silly me).  When is the play?  April 26.  Who gets to be in the conga line?  We’ll decide that later.  Why are so and so and I the same student number?   Look at your page number.  Oh yeah!  When is the play?  April 26.  Can we invite our parents?  Yes, and your grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, neighbors…. When is the play?  (At this point I just roll my eyes) Do we have to memorize this?  Yes.  When is the play?  At the point everyone looks at the kid – “please, haven’t you been listening?” even though it’s the fourth time someone has asked.  At least I don’t have to answer the question again.

It’s the what if questions that on occasion I just refuse to answer.  What if the main character gets sick?  They won’t.  But what if they do?  My main characters never get sick.  But, what if they DO?  Did I mention that they never give up?  Sometimes what if questions are out of fear or concern.  When discussing tornado or fire drills, there are usually a lot of “what if” questions.  What if the tornado takes the roof off the building?  Well, we’ll all get rained on and a little rain never hurt anyone.  What if the ceiling falls on us?  It’s all just ceiling tiles – really light.  They won’t hurt us.  What if there’s fire at both doors?  Well, I can open up the wall then.  When I was in a room with only one door and the kids asked that question, I would tell them I would break the window and throw them out.  Good for a laugh.

Of course, sometimes there’s no way to prepare for the kinds of questions kids ask.  Why did Mrs. Shaddick curl her hair?  Can you make so and so go to the bathroom?  Can you snap my pants?  Is my nose bleeding?  Can I have a Kleenex? (As their nose is running down their face).  Did someone pee on the risers? Can you cut these threads off my socks?  Did Mrs. Ebke have her baby? Can you put my earring back in?  Can you tell so and so to stop trying to kiss me? That last one happened today.

The best question however is “how do you know all of this stuff?  Well, my usual answer is because I’m old, but my other answer is because I like to read things.  They appear to be very impressed until I try to teach them something else later and then I get ignored. Of course, I could be faking a ton of stuff and they would never know because I speak with the authority of a teacher. The idea is slightly entertaining, but not nearly as entertaining as the questions I get on a daily basis.

Now, I know there’s no real research on this particular phenomenon, but I’m telling you that January 31st is going to be epic in terms of misbehavior at school.  How do I know this?  Well, it’s going to be a full moon.  Oh, but not just ANY full moon!  It’s also going to be a total lunar eclipse AND a blue moon, meaning it’s the second full moon of the month AND a blood moon AND a supermoon.  Teachers, be warned!

When it comes to celestial events, kids are like animals – they sense things.  Same goes for weather events.  I don’t have to check the forecast to know there’s a change coming because my students will let me know through their behavior.  Whether it’s a front coming in, a large storm or winter snow, my students give me a heads up that it’s coming.  And heaven forbid that we have a celestial AND weather event at the same time.  Put that near a holiday break and it’s a recipe for teachers to start looking for a new line of work.  Even those quiet students that you normally don’t need to be concerned about feel the change and surprise their teachers with unheard of antics.

But why should this surprise us?  After all, the moon affects our tides and it seems to cause more women to go into labor (although some will say it’s storms that cause a rise in births).  According to a 2007 study, there are more pet emergencies during a full moon.  There is obviously something with our connection to the moon which can affect things in a mysterious way.  Why not children?  After all, children are sensitive.  They tend to just react to the way they feel in the moment.  While again, there are no studies that say a full moon will affect anyone either psychologically or physiologically, I dare anyone who is not a teacher to walk in and observe a classroom during a full moon.

Several years ago I taught at a school where I had before school duty outside, greeting students as they arrived.  This was a great time to check how they were going to be during the day.  There were days when you could literally watch them jumping out of their skin, constantly moving, talking loudly and quickly to each other, having difficulty keeping hands and feet to themselves.  It was as if they had so much energy that they didn’t know what to do with it.  It would be those days when I would think, is it a full moon? Is there a front coming through or a large storm approaching?  Most times, it was a resounding yes.  And then you take a deep breath and take them inside for the day, giving a quick heads up to the classroom teacher along the way.

So, the discussion I had with a colleague this afternoon was, why doesn’t it affect adults?  Would we know if it did?  I don’t think the kids realize what they’re doing so I’m not sure we would either.  Frankly, I do find myself a bit short on those days, and I don’t mean in stature.  Is it caused by the moon or is it caused by the students’ behavior which is due to the moon?  It all gets a bit confusing.  So, as a teacher, what can we do to prepare for these days?  In my experience, not much, I’m afraid.

Like most things there is the knowledge that this too shall pass, followed by “I can do this!”.  I mean, how long is 7 hours, really?  Well, on a full moon, it feels twice that.  So, the only good thing I can say about this coming Wednesday is this.  It’s payday and I think I know some places where I could go after school to unwind.  Any teacher friends care to join me?

Not everyone is meant to go to college.  There, I’ve said it.  I know that goes against everything that an academic should believe, but it’s true.  Not that I wouldn’t encourage students to go to college of course because I believe that learning is essential to living a full life – that when we stop learning, we die.  But not all learning comes from books and lectures set in ivy covered buildings.

I recently read an article about how a high school teacher in California allegedly said that those in the military are “failed students who had no choice but to serve” and that  “They’re not academic people.  They’re not intellectual people”.  This is probably the most arrogant statement I’ve ever heard.  As a person who was raised in a military family and whose son served in Afghanistan, this is quite the insult.  But it also insinuates that anyone who chooses not to follow the path to college and a white collar job is a lesser human being.

The truth is, there are many paths to learning.  My brother became an electrical engineer by doing an apprenticeship with someone, learning what he needed by experiencing the business from the ground up.  Some people go to community college, or maybe learn a trade or business from their family, We can learn through traveling, or perhaps reading and researching those things we’re interested in.  I’ve known plenty of people who pushed their way through school to earn a degree only to discover that they’re miserable doing the job once they graduate.

And where would we be without those tradespeople who keep us going on a daily basis? Those electricians, plumbers, craftsmen, IT people, construction workers, etc., who  build things, work on our cars, repair our computers, take caring of our plumbing needs and in general, make things and keep things in working order.  I don’t know about you, but my wonderful college educated husband scares me when he says something about fixing something.  And there’s a reason for that.  That’s when we call in a professional, and not usually someone with a college degree.

Everyone has their own gifts, talents and learning styles.  Some people love to work outdoors, others prefer to work at a computer, some like working with people, others thrive working on their own.  It takes all of us to create a society where we help each other, understanding that one gift is not any more important than any other.  Let’s take a school for instance.  Yes, it is full of teachers and administrators, but also the cooks who create the meals served to the students, the custodians who keep the school clean, the nurse who takes care of students in a variety of ways, keeping track of students’ medication and working with other caregivers for students with special needs.  And the secretaries who keep everyone on schedule, and well frankly, run the school.  Not everyone has a degree and yet the school would fail to run successfully without everyone involved.

So as teachers, are we doing a disservice to our students if we are continually pushing them towards a college degree?  Are we getting to know them well enough that we can help them move in the direction of their interests and passions regardless of whether or not that means college?  Do we dismiss those students who struggle academically but who flourish when doing something more kinesthetic?  Do we dismiss those students who are considering a career in the military if we are personally anti-military?  Do we discourage students who want to pursue a passion for the arts because it’s not “practical”? We need to be careful.  We need to encourage kids but not push.  We need to guide but not assume we know them better than they know themselves.

This world is made up of billions of unique human beings, human beings who have a purpose on this earth to follow their dreams and passions.  Dreams and passions which may or may not include college.  It’s important for us not to become arrogant as though we hold all of the answers to life-long success, however we should continue to encourage our students to follow their own path to fulfillment.  Our society will be better for it.

 

 

“Sometimes the greatest way to say something is to say nothing at all”.  These lyrics jumped off the page at me as I was listening to a song by Justin Timberlake today.  I don’t know that I’m a huge fan – I’ve never intentionally listened to his work.  And I don’t know the background of the lyrics.  What did he mean exactly?  Is it literal?  Was it meant to send a message?  Is it about some particular issue?  I don’t know, but I’m going to use it for my purpose tonight.

I’ve always joked that there’s a reason for stereotypes, realizing of course that’s it a complete oversimplification, and when your experience or the only things you’ve seen looks the same, it’s easy to do.  For instance, when I say Kentucky, some people automatically believe everyone has horses, or doesn’t wear shoes or has no teeth.  As someone who grew up there and who has friends and family there, that hacks me off a bit. I believe that the fact that’s it’s easy is why stereotyping is so prevalent in our society.  It’s work to really get to know someone or a group of people and to try to understand where they’re coming from and why.  It’s hard to let go of your prejudices, your preconceived notions and take the chance that your thoughts or beliefs might be wrong.

Seeing what others post on social media proves my point.  Everyone is lumped into two different political parties, and you’re either pro this or anti that.  You’re either liberal or conservative, pro life or pro choice, progressive or not,  homophobic or not, prejudice or not.  There is no room left for gray, no room left to be a combination of those things.  It dehumanizes us, stereotyping human beings into their simplest form.  You either are or you aren’t.  We assume certain things about groups of people and then we write about it.  We write about it in the most derogatory ways we can.  We insult them using words saved for only the most vile of creations.  Perhaps not really knowing the person or group of people at all but making assumptions due to an ideology.  You know exactly where these people stand based on these words, which makes it easy for you to lump THEM into a category as well.  And thus begins the us vs them scenario and the impossibility of seeking any middle ground.

Say nothing.  Say nothing so that people have to get to know you.  Say nothing so that others have the opportunity to get to know you by your actions.  Not what you say about them, but how you treat them and others.  I have friends and colleagues with whom I have great relationships who are very vocal about what they feel or assume about others on social media and otherwise.  I know them to be kind, hardworking, intelligent people.  But then, I tend to say nothing.  Would they still be that kind person if I too became vocal about how I feel about political and cultural issues?  Most people I know are so passionate about what they believe and get so emotional that it might be difficult to have a civil conversation with someone who believed differently.  Just like Congress, however, civil discourse and compromise must happen at some point or our civil war of words will tear this country apart.

Now, I know that some of you reading this are already thinking, well, if the Democrats did or didn’t do this or if the Republicans did or didn’t do that…. it’s a blame game.  It’s an excuse not to have to compromise and try to make things work.  How can we blame our leaders when we’re all behaving the same way.  Now, I don’t mean to lecture here, but I’m going to take it back to my kids at school.  My kids who are learning that their way is the best.  The kids who tell me that someone should kill the president.  The kids who bully others because they think or look or act differently than they do.  Not all of my kids of course, they’re still learning.  Ominous, isn’t it?

But it’s not too late to change. I’m human; I too have held onto stereotypes and biases and then my experience changes and it challenges my way of thinking.  We’ve all been raised by other humans who were imperfect and had their own issues and we go into adulthood carrying those things with us whether we intend to or not.  There have been times when I’ve struggled mightily with what I’ve been taught and what I believed because I’ve had the opportunity to meet someone different or had a new experience.  Then the stereotypes begin to fade somewhat and my heart takes over what the mind had controlled.  I believe it’s hard to hate someone when you get to know them, to work beside them, to laugh and cry with them.  The stereotypes fade away and all I see is someone a lot like me.

And so I say nothing.  You can believe what you want about me; assume I support one party or the other, support one cause or another, or am one religion or another, but unless you get to know me, all of that is meaningless.  Until you understand why I do or think or believe as I do, you don’t really know me.  Until then, I guess you’ll just have to assume because “Sometimes the greatest way to say something is to say nothing at all”.

The little boy walked quietly up to my desk in the corner of the room, poked his foot towards me and asked, can you help me with my shoestring?  That’s not the usual question I get.  It’s usually “can you tie my shoes”?  Since I was sitting in my chair, I told him to put his foot on my knee where I had to perform shoestring surgery on the frayed ends before I could tie them.  I have time for this kind of thing now that I have a student teacher.  Today for instance at the beginning of Kindergarten, as my student teacher was getting class started, I had a little girl come up to me to tell me that she was missing her mom who was out of town and that she needed a hug.  I obliged of course and sent her to the circle to join the rest of the class.  Then another little came over to me for a band-aid for a hangnail she had pulled.  Then another came to me for Q-tip and Vaseline for her chapped lips followed by another with the same malady and yet another pair of shoes that needed tying.  When I told Doug about this he asked, what would you have done if you hadn’t had the student teacher, to which I replied, I would have done them both.

In loco parentis.  The legal responsibility of a person or organization to take on some of the functions and responsibilities of a parent.  I take this responsibility seriously.  My job is to teach children content but my responsibility is to be a part of a school that is responsible for keeping children cared for and safe.  For those who have been through the public school system as students, you probably remember more about your teachers than you do about specific lessons or tests.  That’s because we care about our students in almost the same way as a parent.  We take pride in their successes and share concern when they struggle, and not just academically. This on top of the fact that we are trained professionals who not only juggle the art of teaching but also the role of responsibility that comes with the job.

Professional. Like a doctor or a lawyer or an architect.  College educated. State Certified. Tenured.  Proven my expertise in the art of teaching.  I have chosen to teach in the public schools where we take every child who walks in the door – teaching, caring for and keeping them safe.  Did I mention professional?  Today I read an article in the local paper talking about some state senator who wants to get rid of the state board of education, give the governor control over the department and authority to hire the commissioner.  He says that the board of education is “out of touch” with the state because of their opposition to school choice.

A professional.  I’m a professional because of my training and my experience, not because I happened to go to school like everyone else and I don’t need someone who has not had at least my level of training to be in charge of certifying teachers and driving curriculum and standards for our children.  Could you imagine me walking into a hospital telling doctors what it takes for them to practice and how to run things just because I’ve been in a hospital before?  Could you imagine me telling a judge how to rule on a trial or a lawyer how to represent her client just because I’ve been in a courthouse?  Can you imagine me telling an architect how to design a building just because I’ve been inside many buildings in my life?  The premise is ridiculous.  And no other professional would put up with being treated like this.  Except teachers.  Because of the children.

This is going on all over the country.  People who haven’t a clue as to how to run a school, which by the way is NOT a business, are attempting to take over.  People who don’t understand what it is to have to teach ALL children, working to make them as successful as they can be, teaching them to be the best person they can be, these are people who believe they know better than those of us who do it on a daily basis.  When is enough going to be enough?  How long are we, as professionals, as people who really care about children going to put up with this insanity?  Surely we’re not afraid to lose our jobs – we don’t get paid that much as it is!  (That was supposed to be a joke).  There are protests going on all over the country for various things, but I notice there’s not a whole lot going on from teachers.  We’re concerned about various things that congress is not getting done, but have any of us spoken to our representative about our concern for the lack of focus on education?  I personally believe it’s because we tend not to think of ourselves, but our children.  But if we DON’T do something, if we don’t SAY something, ALL of us, what will public education look like in 5-10 years?  Will there be other people attempting to teach children who don’t have a clue?  Can we afford to let that happen?

Some of the things I shared at the beginning of this blog may seem like glorified babysitting to some.  I prefer to look at it as taking care of every child’s basic needs in order for them to be engaged in learning.  Because education is more than just passing on information from one brain to another.  It’s passing on one heart to another.

 

I’m pretty sure I know just enough about “stuff” to be dangerous.  And when I say “stuff”, I mean everything.  My head is full of useless trivia, book learnin’ and decades of experience doing all kinds of things.  As I get older, people assume I know more “stuff”, just because I’m more “mature” or “experienced” – basically just nice ways to say older.  I like getting older.  I like when a student asks me a question in class and not only do I know the answer, I LIVED the answer.  Like the one day a kid challenged me and asked if I knew who AC/DC was.  ‘Nuff said.

But how do we KNOW things.  I have a student teacher right now and my job is to allow her to teach my classes with the knowledge and skills she currently has and pop in now and then to advise, correct and/or encourage.  I help her navigate the pitfalls of teaching, help her to be proactive, to be more aware of individuals.  Standard teaching stuff.  But how do I KNOW that what I’m doing is really helping her?  How do I know that I know what I’m talking about?

Well, we go back to the older, experienced thing.  I’ve known all kinds of people who have taught forever and never really seemed to know what they were doing.  Maybe it was just because I didn’t agree with what they were doing or understand what they were doing.  I’ve also seen drivers who have been driving forever who didn’t seem to know what they were doing either.  So, the argument that being older means you know more isn’t necessarily true.

Well, how about research data?  How much time have you got?  The more I learn about research, the more I see how it can be manipulated by someone who wants to prove a particular point of view.  Very seldom does it see we get results from research projects that say something like “wow – that’s not at all what I expected!”.  Researchers are trying to prove a hypothesis and depending on who participates, how many participate, when they participate, how questions are worded, how environments are manipulated, who’s paying for the project, etc., a researcher can make his or her research prove whatever they want, especially if they’re good at manipulating language.  How else do we get viable research that says global warming (or climate change) is real and other research results that claim global warming is NOT a real thing.  I’m not taking either side here, but both sides of the argument throw out research that supposedly proves their point, but how does either side really KNOW?

Then there’s experience.  Experience is so random.  My experience as a 58 year old teacher compared to another 58 year old teacher is going to be completely different because we are different people with different personalities and minds who have experienced different things in different places during that time period.  And how do you decide which person KNOWS something more than another?  Is it the number of degrees you possess?  Is it the people you have the opportunity to work with?  Is it the number of books you’ve read on a subject?  Is it the fact that you can speak in a convincingly knowledgeable manner? Again, the things you know are based on what others know and then, how do you really know that they know?

I found myself doubting myself this afternoon when my student teacher asked me a question about something I had suggested she do for a lesson.  She basically wanted me to justify the activity.  And for a moment I panicked.  How DO I know this works?  How do I know that this has a musical objective?  Why DO I do this activity?  And then I calmed down a bit and analyzed this activity that I had been doing for a while and I was able to justify it.  At least to my satisfaction.  But that’s the thing, isn’t it?  We all get to choose what we want to know and what we don’t want to know.  Since there are so many ways to know – whether it’s through experience, research data, higher education, intuition, knowing something is actually a pretty abstract concept.

Maybe it’s a combination of all of these things that brings a sense of knowing.   Maybe it’s stopping a moment to really think about something that affirms the knowing.  And maybe there’s no such thing as a universal definition of knowing because it’s as individual as one’s perception.  Regardless, tomorrow I’ll go back to school, to an institution of knowledge, and hope I know what I’m doing so I can help my student teacher to know what to do as a future teacher.

 

At the beginning of the school year, as I’m deciding how to arrange my classroom I’m thinking about how to decorate and what would be the best place to put the risers for the kids to see the board, where to put materials, instruments, etc.  But the other thing I have to think about is where I can hide kids. Just in case.

Another school shooting today makes me think I need to practice with my kids.  The other thing I considered when I placed the risers was how many kids I could hide behind it and not be seen from the windows next to the doors.  And I have two.  So I have a few posters up on the windows to block the view and things in the door to pull out to lock the doors right away.  My phone sits on my desk where I can get to it fast if I need to.  And then my job is to teach the kids what to do “just in case” without scaring them to death.

As we’re going through procedures in the beginning, we discuss drills – fire drills, tornado drills, code red drills.  The kids are always full of “what if” questions. What if there is fire in front of both doors?  What if the tornado lifts off the roof?  What if the roof falls on us?  What if someone with a gun tries to get in our room?  What if they break through the glass?  And it’s my job to find an answer that reassures them that I will take care of them, no matter what.

And it has become essential to run through possible scenarios in my head.  My go to place to hide or shelter from tornadoes is actually next door because it’s smaller and only has one door.  My room is big and open with no cabinets or furniture to use.  So the scenarios are for MY what if questions.  What if I don’t have time to move to the other room?  Do I have anything to put in front of the doors/windows to reinforce?  Do I have anything that could serve as a weapon should I need one?  My go to answer for the kids is that I would grab boomwhackers and smack the bad guys with them, which always makes them laugh, but in my scenario, I have to be serious.

When I began teaching, a long, long time ago, this was not something that was taught, nothing that we needed to prepare for.  As the culture and our society has changed, so have demands on teachers.  As I read stories about brave teachers who have done heroic deeds for their students, I ask myself if I would react the same way.  Would I have the guts to fight for my kids if faced with a life or death situation?  I would like to think I would, but for now, the best I can do is try to be as prepared as I can be for whatever comes our way.  I would love to say that it will never happen to us, a little elementary school in Lincoln, Nebraska, but I’m betting that’s what the teachers thought at the high school in western Kentucky today.

I don’t have any answers as to how to stop the violence.  It’s a much more complicated issue than most people are willing to really think about.   It’s not because of one thing, but a combination of things, which we won’t address today.  And while I have opinions,  I’m not equipped to handle those big issues personally.  However, I can work to be prepared where I am.  Just in case.

 

3/4 of an inch.  That’s all that separates me and the blizzard blowing outside.  I can hear the blustery winds and see the snow flying but I do it inside a room at a comfortable 70 degrees while I hear the wind roaring outside.  I can see and hear what’s going on outside but I’m not really experiencing it.  And I don’t want to.  Observing from as close as 3/4 of an inch is close enough.  All I would have to do to experience it is to flip the little latch and slide the door open, stepping outside to get the full effect, to say that I had actually experienced a blizzard.  But I won’t because the thought of it is too uncomfortable.

The act of flipping the latch and sliding the door is not difficult of course but it takes motivation to do it.  I am imagining what the results would be if I actually did it – the bitter cold of the wind, the sting of the snow, and of the unpleasantness that goes with it.  But the cold and sting also remind me of how very alive I am and gives me an appreciation for when I step back into the 70 degree living room afterwards.  Sometimes we need to experience the cold and sting – there is a REASON to experience them.

When the cold and sting come in the form of people, it’s easy to retreat into your cozy warm, “know what to expect” environment.  I’ve done it for years.  That fear and lack of comfort you felt from those people can make you wary of others for the rest of your life.  It makes you wary of investing time in them and emotion on them.  The devastating effects of a cold relationship can and will last a lifetime and so some of us put up that glass panel.  I can still see and hear you, but I stop at really feeling anything for you, even though I really want to.  It’s not a matter of being standoffish, it’s a matter of self-protection, a matter of survival.  What is it they say – hurt me once, shame on you, hurt me twice, shame on me?  When the cold and sting hurt you over and over again, the door closes and the motivation to flip that latch diminishes.  Until you meet someone who really loves you.

When you meet someone who brings sunshine and warm breezes, the motivation to try the latch reappears.  It doesn’t happen all at once because you know what has happened before when you slid the door open and the harsh wind slapped you in the face.  But little by little the sunshine beckons you to come out, to leave the place of comfort and try again.  And with enough time, you learn that sometimes the door briefly opens to harshness, but it’s not permanent.  You’ve been able to build up some healthy layers to face the cold and sting, knowing that the sunshine will return eventually.

I’ve received some incredibly kind, supportive responses to a recent blog concerning my childhood.  For many years, as much as I wanted to open the door, I kept it closed out of fear, even to those I wanted to be my friends.  I just couldn’t believe that anyone would really love or even like me and I couldn’t deal with the rejection.  But over the years I have opened the door, first to Doug and then to many kind friends who have become my family over the years.  There are still those days when I’m afraid to open the door – I am a work in progress – but so many of you shared rays of sunshine and warmth this week that I had to say thank you.  And I hope I do the same for you.

 

 

 

The little voice down the hall says “Uh, David, this is a problem!” and suddenly David is dashing towards us down the hall saying something about a plunger and water running.  I get up quickly and sure enough, the four year old has apparently clogged the toilet and water is pouring onto the floor.  David has run for towels, Doug is grabbing the plunger and trying to turn off the water.  In the meantime, David starts to throw towels on the floor and I start mopping up.  The four year old stands watching with this look on his face like “oh man, what did I do?”, so I’m mopping and trying to reassure him that everyone has accidents.

A little while later, the water has been mopped up, towels are in the washer and the water is back on.  And the little voice asks “is the toilet short again?”.  It took me a second, but obviously he was asking if the water had gone back down.  He was much relieved when I told him yes, the toilet was short again.

Over the last several years, we’ve finally gotten to the point where our place looks like adults live here.  The furniture is nice, there are clean pillows on the couch, there are breakable things on tables.  No more crayons melted in the heat register, no more kid sized dents in the walls, no grape jelly smeared on the couch cushions.  But things are changing.  The apartment that was clean and straightened before the four year old now has toys all over the floor of the office, Paw Patrol fruit snacks and kid proof plastic cup on the kitchen counter.  I’m having to think about child-proofing areas, making sure anything unsafe is too high for him to reach.

I had my first child 34 years ago.  I was clueless.  I remember sitting on the bed with my newborn, both of us crying and neither of us knowing what to do about it.  I made so many mistakes with my kids and was so uptight about them behaving just the right way because I was worried about what others might think.  I didn’t want to look like a bad parent, despite the fact that I was obviously a very inexperienced parent.

Three grown boys later,  27 years of teaching under my belt and handling young kids of all ages, dealing with one 4 year old now is work, but it’s not the least bit stressful.  And because it’s not stressful, even the little catastrophes are funny.  It’s easy to reassure this little guy that making mistakes is part of growing up and learning.  I so wish I had had my act together with my own kids that way.  But maybe that’s what my job is now.  Just like my grandma was that source of unconditional love, the one who took me for rides in her cool pink Cadillac and brought me yummy things when I rang her Chinese dragon bell.  For whatever reason I called her Hummingbird Grandma which is one of the reasons why I am so attached to hummingbirds today.  I didn’t get to visit with her often, but when I did, I knew she always loved me, no matter what.

One of the things I love to do and think is part of my job is reassuring young parents that their child is going to be okay.  When they’re all concerned because the grades just aren’t what they think they should be or that there are behavior issues, it’s my job to reassure them that it’s part of being a kid and that we’ll work together to do the best we can for their child.  I’m pretty sure that’s why God gave me three boys with three completely different personalities because I can usually recall when one of them did something similar to what I’m seeing with someone else’s child.  And my boys grew up to be fine, hardworking adults.  And their child will too.

So tonight, the towels are in the dryer, the messes are picked up and we’re back to having only adults in the house.  And it’s nice. It’s a bit ironic that you have all of the energy when you have no experience and after you gain the experience you have less energy.  But I have plenty of energy to always love this four year old, even when the water is high.