I'm a key rack and a WalMart greeter, carrying a cellphone in each pocket and a radio on my hip. I have to be able to recognize parents, siblings, and assorted aunties, uncles and grandparents picking up nearly 150 children at the end of a long day. It's a challenge. I have to figure out which students are missing and make phone calls home to find out why.
I'm the primary contact for many parents with the school, and unfortunately I'm the one they complain to about today's citation or school work. Most parents are patient, but some have bad days or issues of their own that get acted out. A few are at their wits end with a child, and have to be calmed and supported.
I handle all behavior problems, missing homework, bloody noses and asthma attacks and wet pants. I clean up blood and pee and vomit. There's no health aid or custodian or office manager on duty during our program. If there's a problem, I have to drop what I'm doing and try to take care of it.
This job provides 70% of my pay, the other 30% I have to make up by subbing. Subs are supposed to be called in order of seniority, since we're laid-off permanent employees. One of the cell phones I carry is so that I can receive calls from SEMS (substitute employee management system) that begin at 4 pm each day. Cell reception is spotty inside the school, so I miss some jobs that way. The SEMS computer doesn't wait a moment while I'm putting on a band-aid or talking to a parent, so I miss other jobs that way.
But my school site prefers to use student teachers or other subs not on the seniority list. I shouldn't take this personally, because they haven't used the teacher whose class was closed at the beginning of the year as much as they could have either. The staff would rather do what they want than follow state education code. During a sixth grade math review time, one student teacher forgot a common method to find a missing numerator or denominator in a proportion. I privately reminded her how to cross multiply and divide, and she thanked me. Eight years of service brings a facility with basic curriculum that the staff at my school just doesn't appreciate.
On the rare occasion that I get to sub at Citrus, I find I know more than half the students by name, because they're either in the After School Program or have been at some point during the year. It's fun to get to know the students better, and I notice if their behavior matches what we see at the end of the day. I get more familiar with school policies and how things are done at Citrus so that I can learn to seamlessly integrate the After School Program into the school day. As I explain to my first graders, we're still at school and we follow all the same rules.
The other option is to sub at schools that still honor the seniority lists of laid off teachers, and that's a really nice experience. I have to learn a whole new class of students, but I get to see a lot of wonderful things too. How one reading specialist so effectively runs interventions at her school was awesome. Whatever grade I'm eventually assigned I have teachers in mind whose classrooms are exceptional. I hope to ask for guidance when that wonderful day comes, when I have a classroom again.
Subbing at other schools often requires so much new learning (faces, names, locations) that when I arrive at the After School Program I'm don't have as much capacity left for making new connections. But I'm only human, and my family must come first.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
I deserve my love and kindness
Sometimes I long for a wise friend to listen as I sort my heart out. Rebuilding my boundaries and keeping them resilient requires me to think about myself as a person that I care about. I've allowed myself to be manipulated and hurt by a few, and I want to learn to keep myself safe. I'm trying to remember that when others are mean or destructive, that it's all about them and not about me. I can't take responsibility for the damage they've done, can't fix it or solve it, it doesn't belong to me. I can only stay clear of destructive people and their projections.
I deserve my love and kindness as much as the people around me do.
I deserve my love and kindness as much as the people around me do.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Kitty Circus brings on a new act
Parenting Classes: week one
I think parenting classes are important, and when my kids were little I took parenting classes called "Developing Capable People" and tried to learn to become a better parent. I'm still friends with some of the people I took the classes with, and we have been supportive of each other through some very difficult times in our lives.
I never imagined I'd be teaching parenting classes. I have trouble seeing me, the mom with the dead kid, the failed parent, as the appropriate person to be teaching people how to be good parents. I'm half serious when I say that at any minute someone is going to ask what I did to end up with a dead child. I mean really, it would be helpful to know, wouldn't it? I personally would like to know what I did or didn't do that led to my daughter's suicide. My husband sees our 18 year old daughter as an adult responsible for her own choices and actions. I see our daughter just entering adulthood with the biology and environment we'd given her...so what went wrong?
I think parenting classes could be a wonderful step in building community at Citrus. And since our grant requires us to provide them, Citrus Parenting University, here we come! We invite them personally, we feed them dinner, we provide child care, and six of the nicest people you'd ever want to work with get to teach classes in three languages.
This program features the 40 developmental assets, so my part was to explain that the more of these assets that were a part of a child's life, the less likely the child was to engage in risky behaviors, such as alcohol, tobacco, drugs, sex, criminal behavior, depression and suicide attempts, and the higher their GPA would be in school.
So the whole time I'm teaching it, I'm like shit, I wonder which ones I missed giving my daughter. Not something that should be going through a presenter's mind. Ten or fewer assets and the child was seriously at risk, 11 to 20 assets and the child was still at a substantial risk, so the goal was to move the children of all of the families present into the 21 to 30 asset range, where the statistics were looking a whole lot safer. The program promises it's possible to get all of the children into this 21 to 30 assets range by the end of the seven week course.
I'm still looking for the magic wand in the supply box, it's gotta be there. How else are we going to keep all these kids safe from all of that?
And maybe it's just because I'm annoyed, but I'm getting tired of talking about assets, it's just an awkward word when you say it over and over in a presentation, you know? It sounds like sets of ass or something. There must be a better term for it.
And I spent way too many sleepless nights last week wondering what I got wrong, what I missed.
I think parenting classes are important, and when my kids were little I took parenting classes called "Developing Capable People" and tried to learn to become a better parent. I'm still friends with some of the people I took the classes with, and we have been supportive of each other through some very difficult times in our lives.
I never imagined I'd be teaching parenting classes. I have trouble seeing me, the mom with the dead kid, the failed parent, as the appropriate person to be teaching people how to be good parents. I'm half serious when I say that at any minute someone is going to ask what I did to end up with a dead child. I mean really, it would be helpful to know, wouldn't it? I personally would like to know what I did or didn't do that led to my daughter's suicide. My husband sees our 18 year old daughter as an adult responsible for her own choices and actions. I see our daughter just entering adulthood with the biology and environment we'd given her...so what went wrong?
I think parenting classes could be a wonderful step in building community at Citrus. And since our grant requires us to provide them, Citrus Parenting University, here we come! We invite them personally, we feed them dinner, we provide child care, and six of the nicest people you'd ever want to work with get to teach classes in three languages.
This program features the 40 developmental assets, so my part was to explain that the more of these assets that were a part of a child's life, the less likely the child was to engage in risky behaviors, such as alcohol, tobacco, drugs, sex, criminal behavior, depression and suicide attempts, and the higher their GPA would be in school.
So the whole time I'm teaching it, I'm like shit, I wonder which ones I missed giving my daughter. Not something that should be going through a presenter's mind. Ten or fewer assets and the child was seriously at risk, 11 to 20 assets and the child was still at a substantial risk, so the goal was to move the children of all of the families present into the 21 to 30 asset range, where the statistics were looking a whole lot safer. The program promises it's possible to get all of the children into this 21 to 30 assets range by the end of the seven week course.
I'm still looking for the magic wand in the supply box, it's gotta be there. How else are we going to keep all these kids safe from all of that?
And maybe it's just because I'm annoyed, but I'm getting tired of talking about assets, it's just an awkward word when you say it over and over in a presentation, you know? It sounds like sets of ass or something. There must be a better term for it.
And I spent way too many sleepless nights last week wondering what I got wrong, what I missed.
Monday, January 11, 2010
So well said...
I've been living this out loud...
Challenge and Change by Sherry Mutcher TCF/ Appleton, WI
As I look back over the past six years since our son died, I realize
how much I have changed. When we talk about grieving, we often forget
to mention that we grieve, too for the person we were before our
child died. We might have been energetic and fun-loving, but now are
serious and absorbed.
Our friends and family miss the old us too, and their comments show
it. "Don't you think it's time to return to normal?" "You don't laugh
as much as you used to." They are grieving for the person who will
never be the same again.
Like the caterpillar that shrouds itself in a cocoon, we shroud
ourselves in grief when a child dies. We wonder, our families wonder-
when will we come out of it? Will we make it through the long sleep?
What hues will we show when we emerge? If you've ever watched a
butterfly struggle from the safety of the cocoon, you'll know that
the change is not quick or easy- but worth the effort!
We begin to mark our struggle from the cocoon of grief when we begin
to like the new us. When our priorities become different and people
become more important than things; when we grasp a hand that reaches
and reach in turn to pull another from the cocoon, when we embrace
the change and turn the change into a challenge, then we can say
proudly: "I have survived against overwhelming odds." Even though my
child's death is not worth the change in and of itself, the changes
and the challenges give me hope that I can be happy.
I can feel fulfilled again. I can love again.
Sherry Mutcher TCF/ Appleton, WI
~reprinted from TCF Atlanta Newsletter 2000
Challenge and Change by Sherry Mutcher TCF/ Appleton, WI
As I look back over the past six years since our son died, I realize
how much I have changed. When we talk about grieving, we often forget
to mention that we grieve, too for the person we were before our
child died. We might have been energetic and fun-loving, but now are
serious and absorbed.
Our friends and family miss the old us too, and their comments show
it. "Don't you think it's time to return to normal?" "You don't laugh
as much as you used to." They are grieving for the person who will
never be the same again.
Like the caterpillar that shrouds itself in a cocoon, we shroud
ourselves in grief when a child dies. We wonder, our families wonder-
when will we come out of it? Will we make it through the long sleep?
What hues will we show when we emerge? If you've ever watched a
butterfly struggle from the safety of the cocoon, you'll know that
the change is not quick or easy- but worth the effort!
We begin to mark our struggle from the cocoon of grief when we begin
to like the new us. When our priorities become different and people
become more important than things; when we grasp a hand that reaches
and reach in turn to pull another from the cocoon, when we embrace
the change and turn the change into a challenge, then we can say
proudly: "I have survived against overwhelming odds." Even though my
child's death is not worth the change in and of itself, the changes
and the challenges give me hope that I can be happy.
I can feel fulfilled again. I can love again.
Sherry Mutcher TCF/ Appleton, WI
~reprinted from TCF Atlanta Newsletter 2000
Friday, January 1, 2010
the Kitty Circus
My new job is...different, different in so many ways. I really don't teach anymore, and I miss that daily relationship with my class as a whole and with each individual student. I miss watching them grow and learn and develop their skills. I miss the space of a classroom, having all my teaching materials at my fingertips, able to access manipulatives and an entire library of books, but most of all I miss having a window. God, with no window, I can't see the the color of the sky or the clouds as they move across it. I can't see a tree or leaves dancing in the wind, and there is no chance of seeing a bird. Liz heard my whining and made a paper window and put it up on the inside of the door, as my office is basically a storage closet with no wall space. Oh, and by the way, my door actually has a sign above it that says Never Never Land.
What I do have is 149 students, 4 recreation leaders, 3 credentialed teachers, 2 instructional aides, and me. I have too many bosses to count, I call them legion. "What?" my friend Suzy posted on face book, "no pig in a poke?" At first I thought of myself as a circus ringmaster, but my principal said "No, you herd cats." And an old friend Jenise said "Remember when you were a kid and had a kitty circus? Your mom and I used to watch and laugh our butts off!" Herding cats, circus ringmaster, and once again I apparently have a Kitty Circus. And the volunteers have the shock and awe campaign well under way just in case the kids miss anything.
My friend Cindy wrote this and it was so inspiring that I put it on the bulletin board above my computer: After a few months, you will find that it is like conducting an orchestra. Try to make beautiful music every day, even though the members of the orchestra will come and go at will throughout your performance. End each day by reflecting on the huge impact you make for each child and his/her family because you are there.
She evidently has not heard me leading assembly and singing Yellow Submarine...
What I do have is 149 students, 4 recreation leaders, 3 credentialed teachers, 2 instructional aides, and me. I have too many bosses to count, I call them legion. "What?" my friend Suzy posted on face book, "no pig in a poke?" At first I thought of myself as a circus ringmaster, but my principal said "No, you herd cats." And an old friend Jenise said "Remember when you were a kid and had a kitty circus? Your mom and I used to watch and laugh our butts off!" Herding cats, circus ringmaster, and once again I apparently have a Kitty Circus. And the volunteers have the shock and awe campaign well under way just in case the kids miss anything.
My friend Cindy wrote this and it was so inspiring that I put it on the bulletin board above my computer: After a few months, you will find that it is like conducting an orchestra. Try to make beautiful music every day, even though the members of the orchestra will come and go at will throughout your performance. End each day by reflecting on the huge impact you make for each child and his/her family because you are there.
She evidently has not heard me leading assembly and singing Yellow Submarine...
knitting our lives together
This year I wanted to make something special for each of my sons that would be useful. Because they live on Lake Michigan near Chicago, I thought some nice knitted scarves might be just right. I went to the store and picked out 2 skeins of Patons Shetland Chunky yarn called 'winter moon' for Gabe, and size 11 needles.
I watched a youtube video on how to knit, and cast on 26 stitches for his 26 years. I knit for awhile, then frogged it, then began again. My friend Anne taught me the term 'frog' for when you get frustrated and rip-it rip-it all out. I knitted then frogged quite a few times until I found a fairly even knit, which as my friend Nola pointed out was all about tension.
It occurred to me that knitting scarves for my grown sons reminded me of crocheting and quilting baby blankets for them before they were born. I wondered if I could knit some love and happiness and magic into these scarves, stitch by stitch. Well a mother can dream, can't she? I thought of how knitting was a metaphor for healing, as in knitting the bones together, and I wished I could use my imagination to make scarves that heal their grief.
Knitting definitely has meditative qualities, so it became quite a comforting thing for me to do. The first skein took a week, and the second took only 24 hours, and voila! One scarf for Gabe to keep him warm and always remind him that his mommy loves him. Sharon said when it was finished that it looked like the Northern Lights, which was cool because our family had once seen them on Friday, March 30, 2001. It was one of those magical things that you can't plan, they just happen.
Then I tried to get Jason to pick some yarn, no luck, so finally grabbed a medium weight Patons Classic Wool called 'palais'. Because it wasn't nearly as thick as the other yarn, I knew I'd have to cast on a lot more stitches, so I decided on 21 for Jason and 24 for Katie for a total of 45. I remembered Jason reading a Johnny Cash biography and telling me about how Johny Cash's brother had died, but in his dreams his brother kept growing older right along with him, so that's why I chose 24 for Katie, as she would be 24 if she was still with us, still his big sister to watch over him. There wasn't nearly so much frogging this time, although I learned what a pain it is when stitches get accidentally dropped or unravelled. This scarf is taking a lot more time, but that's ok. It's full of browns and blues and purples and reds, and Jason seems to like it. He had requested the dark blues and the purple is for Northwestern and he says he likes the red. I hope I can finish it soon so that he can feel the warmth of it and the love in every stitch!
Both times I went to the yarn store, I saw so many wonderful colors that my boys would never wear, but Katie would have loved them. She and I were talking about learning how to knit not long before she died. I had run into Jami at the doctors office, and we were both fascinated by a woman that was knitting a scarf. Jami said she had heard that knitting was the new yoga. Later that day I talked to Katie on the phone, and repeated what Jami had said, about knitting being the new yoga, and she said, "Oh mom, I really want to learn how to knit, some of the girls in the dorm knit." And we decided we'd go to a yarn store together when she got home and learn how to knit.
For a long time I really didn't see the point of doing something without her that we'd planned to do together. Sort of took all the fun out of it. Finally I decided to try it, for both of us. As my friend Mary says, "I get to live all of these years for her."
I watched a youtube video on how to knit, and cast on 26 stitches for his 26 years. I knit for awhile, then frogged it, then began again. My friend Anne taught me the term 'frog' for when you get frustrated and rip-it rip-it all out. I knitted then frogged quite a few times until I found a fairly even knit, which as my friend Nola pointed out was all about tension.
It occurred to me that knitting scarves for my grown sons reminded me of crocheting and quilting baby blankets for them before they were born. I wondered if I could knit some love and happiness and magic into these scarves, stitch by stitch. Well a mother can dream, can't she? I thought of how knitting was a metaphor for healing, as in knitting the bones together, and I wished I could use my imagination to make scarves that heal their grief.
Knitting definitely has meditative qualities, so it became quite a comforting thing for me to do. The first skein took a week, and the second took only 24 hours, and voila! One scarf for Gabe to keep him warm and always remind him that his mommy loves him. Sharon said when it was finished that it looked like the Northern Lights, which was cool because our family had once seen them on Friday, March 30, 2001. It was one of those magical things that you can't plan, they just happen.
Then I tried to get Jason to pick some yarn, no luck, so finally grabbed a medium weight Patons Classic Wool called 'palais'. Because it wasn't nearly as thick as the other yarn, I knew I'd have to cast on a lot more stitches, so I decided on 21 for Jason and 24 for Katie for a total of 45. I remembered Jason reading a Johnny Cash biography and telling me about how Johny Cash's brother had died, but in his dreams his brother kept growing older right along with him, so that's why I chose 24 for Katie, as she would be 24 if she was still with us, still his big sister to watch over him. There wasn't nearly so much frogging this time, although I learned what a pain it is when stitches get accidentally dropped or unravelled. This scarf is taking a lot more time, but that's ok. It's full of browns and blues and purples and reds, and Jason seems to like it. He had requested the dark blues and the purple is for Northwestern and he says he likes the red. I hope I can finish it soon so that he can feel the warmth of it and the love in every stitch!
Both times I went to the yarn store, I saw so many wonderful colors that my boys would never wear, but Katie would have loved them. She and I were talking about learning how to knit not long before she died. I had run into Jami at the doctors office, and we were both fascinated by a woman that was knitting a scarf. Jami said she had heard that knitting was the new yoga. Later that day I talked to Katie on the phone, and repeated what Jami had said, about knitting being the new yoga, and she said, "Oh mom, I really want to learn how to knit, some of the girls in the dorm knit." And we decided we'd go to a yarn store together when she got home and learn how to knit.
For a long time I really didn't see the point of doing something without her that we'd planned to do together. Sort of took all the fun out of it. Finally I decided to try it, for both of us. As my friend Mary says, "I get to live all of these years for her."
Saturday, December 26, 2009
something to ponder each day
May You Always Feel Loved
by Sandra Sturtz Hauss
May you find serenity and tranquility in a world you may not always understand.
May the pain you have known and conflict you have experienced give you the strength
to walk through life facing each new situation with courage and optimism.
Always know that there are those whose love and understanding will always be there,
even when you feel most alone.
May you discover enough goodness in others to believe in a world of peace.
May a kind word, a reassuring touch, a warm smile be yours every day of your life,
and may you give these gifts as well as receive them.
Remember the sunshine when the storm seems unending.
Teach love to those who know hate, and let that love embrace you as you go into the world.
May the teaching of those you admire become part of you, so that you may call upon them.
Remember, those whose lives you have touched and who have touched yours are always a part of you,
even if the encounters were less than you would have wished.
It is the content of the encounter that is more important than it's form.
May you not become too concerned with material matters,
but instead place immeasurable value on the goodness in your heart.
Find time in each day to see the beauty and love in the world around you.
Realize that each person has limitless abilities, but each of us is different in our own way.
What you may feel you lack in one regard may be more than compensated for in another.
What you feel you lack in the present may become one of your strengths in the future.
May you see your future as one filled with promise and possibility.
Learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience.
May you find enough inner strength to determine your own worth by yourself,
and not be dependent on another's judgement of your accomplishments.
May you always feel loved.
by Sandra Sturtz Hauss
May you find serenity and tranquility in a world you may not always understand.
May the pain you have known and conflict you have experienced give you the strength
to walk through life facing each new situation with courage and optimism.
Always know that there are those whose love and understanding will always be there,
even when you feel most alone.
May you discover enough goodness in others to believe in a world of peace.
May a kind word, a reassuring touch, a warm smile be yours every day of your life,
and may you give these gifts as well as receive them.
Remember the sunshine when the storm seems unending.
Teach love to those who know hate, and let that love embrace you as you go into the world.
May the teaching of those you admire become part of you, so that you may call upon them.
Remember, those whose lives you have touched and who have touched yours are always a part of you,
even if the encounters were less than you would have wished.
It is the content of the encounter that is more important than it's form.
May you not become too concerned with material matters,
but instead place immeasurable value on the goodness in your heart.
Find time in each day to see the beauty and love in the world around you.
Realize that each person has limitless abilities, but each of us is different in our own way.
What you may feel you lack in one regard may be more than compensated for in another.
What you feel you lack in the present may become one of your strengths in the future.
May you see your future as one filled with promise and possibility.
Learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience.
May you find enough inner strength to determine your own worth by yourself,
and not be dependent on another's judgement of your accomplishments.
May you always feel loved.
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