It Matters

I rediscovered this piece I wrote five years ago before I had taken my job permanently.  Even when I thought I was only there as a substitute, the kids had worked their way into my heart. I still try to make connections with them daily.  I still hate the paperwork and often dodge it in an effort to make more time with the kids; and still, it matters.

I continue to spend part of my week with middle-schoolers.  The maternity leave coverage I agreed to provide through January grew to a part-time commitment for the rest of the school year.  I’ve been asked if I would consider signing on next year, but to do that I would lose my substitute status.  The beauty of being a substitute is that it excuses me from some of the report writing that staff has to do, and I have been having the best time using that paperwork time with the kids instead.

The administration emailed us a video clip created by PBS on early warning signs a student is likely to drop out of high school.  Research has shown that sixth graders who fail one or more core subjects and have frequent unexcused absences are on the road to becoming a drop out.  It is alarming to realize the dye is cast for some kids as early as sixth grade.  It is horrifying to realize it when you have real live faces to attach to that warning.

So began my latest passion.  I scan attendance records each time I am at school.  I have a list of students I am concerned about.  Once I discover they are present I head off to their lockers where I slip a note, some candy or some sort of small token through the vents in their locker.  It is a sweet nothing, but its message is significant.  It says someone noticed I was here today, and it matters.

These kids are going to know me for five months of their lives.  For some of them I am a bandaid on a hemorrhage.  Will my efforts make a long term difference?  I don’t know.  But today-for this very day-some young people experienced school as welcoming.  Today I saw smiles where there had been none.  I noticed, and oh, yes! it mattered.

TToT: School Social Work Week

It was School Social Work Week.

My co-workers and my school kids showered me with love every day.  I was incredibly touched.  Several co-workers independent of one another chose cards, mementos and treats all in hues of yellow, a color I don't wear or use in decorating. Looking into how color and personality are related, I discovered that yellow is associated with perfectionists who think big and dream of how things could be. I'm good with that.

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My colleagues

My school kids

Their families

Meaningful work

Supportive administrators both at school and in the Social Work Department

The opportunity to dig in the dirt planting tomato seeds

Time spent with my own grown kids this week either face to face or over the phone

Living in the age 

when long distance calls are free

Bookstores

Yellow

TToT: Wee Small Hours

My work week has ended, and I am restless.  More and more my caseload seems to be driven by the headlines. The past two weeks have brought to light a number of domestic violence situations in the homes of my students.  My mind swirls with the stories I have heard, and sleep aludes me.

Merriam-Webster describes the phrase at home:

1: relaxed and comfortable : at ease  2   : in harmony with the surroundings 

3: on familiar ground

Too few young people are growing up feeling relaxed and comfortable.  They cannot feel at ease in a home where violence might erupt at any moment.  Harmony is in short supply, and volatility is all too familiar ground for scores of young people in American homes.

I find myself walking the floor in the wee small hours this morning.  As I include my students in my prayers,  I can't help but recognize how fortunate I am in contrast with what others experience.  There is no reason I should lead such a charmed existence when others struggle.  I cannot explain it, but I can respond with gratitude.

Ten Things of Thankful

I grew up in a home free from violence.

My husband grew up in a home free from violence.

My children grew up in a home free from violence.

My husband provides a role model of masculinity without machismo.

My home is relaxed and comfortable.

My family is at ease and in harmony.

My work has meaning.

I have been given the opportunity to connect with young people.

I have the privilege of seeing first hand the love of young people for their families.

I have the privilege of supporting young people looking for ways to live lives free from violence.

Missionary

The job you dreamed you wanted when you grew up.

While other kids were playing things like Kick the Can and Cowboys and Indians, my imagination took me to some odd places.  I played things like Democratic National Convention and a dramatic play game called Uncle Fargo and Aunt Margo which was nothing more than a thinly disguised plan concocted by my friend Chris and me in an effort to fan the flames of romance between her sister and my brother. But perhaps my perennial favorite fantasy play was Missionary.  

Lining my dolls up side by side I would evaluate their needs.  Some would be desperate for clothing, others required medical attention and all were in need of a nutritious meal. Dinners were served on the set of Blue Willow doll china I received one Christmas. Any dolls who had been orphaned were paired with suitable doll families.  Once these immediate needs were seen to, the preaching began immediately followed by academic instruction.

As an adult my work style might be best described as serial monogamy.  I am passionate about the work I do.  I throw myself into it completely.  Single-mindedly,  I tend to give until I am used up.

I then retreat for a period; I rest and refocus. After some self-care and soul searching I stumble onto the next vocation that sparks my interest--vocations that would seem quite familiar to the little girl at play so long ago.  I work very hard in each chosen field for several years until I have once again used up my reserves.

Though I have never journeyed to far off lands to find work as I did in my imagination during childhood, my work has seen me travel through multiple careers. After college I taught both elementary school and pre-school children.  Following grad school I spent several years as a social worker working with families.  I moved on to the job of Director of Children's Programming at my church.  Currently, I am back in the school system serving as School Social Worker to middle school students.

Looking back I would have to say I've been playing Missionary for a good long while now.  It is hard to imagine that will ever change.

TToT: The Labor Day Edition

I talk a lot about how my work doesn’t define me, that I don’t see it as a big part of who I am.  Still,  as Labor Day comes this year I am thankful for my work for many reasons…

I am thankful for a work schedule that is tied to the seasons, including an allowance for a break in the summer.

I am thankful to work in a place that bent the rules to allow me to work part-time.

And that further trusts my judgement enough to determine when those hours can be best served week to week to help the kids.

I am thankful for co-workers who make me laugh every day

and who never fail to tell me I am appreciated.

I am thankful for the kids who continually touch my heart and help me grow a little more wise.

I am thankful for a job so varied it never grows stale,

which offers me the reminder not to take life too seriously.

I am thankful for a paycheck that allows me to contribute to my family’s well being.

Middle school story of the week:  I am working with a boy who has been struggling with hormonal issues and accompanying bodily responses.  His issue would be helped greatly if he would keep his hands on his desk at all times.  After one particularly stern talking to about behavior that should only happen in private, I escorted him back to class.  We entered the classroom as discretely as possible and each slipped into a seat.  I settled in before realizing that we had arrived in the middle of the teacher’s lecture on Homo Erectus.

Life in a Middle School.  I swear, you can’t make this stuff up.


Items #705 through 714 of my list of One Thousand Gifts

TToT: Spooky Stuff

I have just come off seventeen hours of parent/teacher conferences.  (In person this statement is followed by an audible sigh.)  To say that the American family has changed in the time I have been an educator is an incredible understatement.  Three decades later I am still thankful for parents who allow their kids to learn by doing even if that means making mistakes along the way; for those who don't do for their children what the children are capable of doing for themselves; for parents who teach their children to be respectful of adults who work hard on their behalf; for parents who understand kids can make their own friends, but they can not make their own parents so they themselves need to parent their children rather than striving to be their friend.  I am thankful for parents who provide a safe home free from ridicule and physical or emotional abuse. I appreciate parents who understand that their own youth has passed and they are now called upon to be responsible role models for those who are actually young and learning. I am thankful every time I hear the words thank you, and what can I do to help, and your best is good enough spoken with sincerity; because without these basic qualities, the world is filled with spooky stuff.

TToT: Beauty

I spent an evening in Kansas City this week.  Walking the streets on the Country Club Plaza offers such  a great reminder of how beautiful architecture takes the edge off the hurried, impersonal feel of city living. This view inspired my list of thankfuls this week.

The world feels very ugly these days, but if I take a closer look back over the past seven days, there has been beauty too. That beauty smoothed the rough edges of each day.

Baby laughter and mother love.

The celebration after a hard fought football victory finally in the last game of the season for my kids at school.

The First Lady's powerful speech as she talked about how sexual assault and its glorification harms not only mothers and daughters, but fathers and sons as well.

Warm autumnal colors outdoors.

Friendship. The opportunity to do something kind for someone I enjoy.  The opportunity to do something kind for a complete stranger.

An Ethics conference on Friday which provided endless examples of how my colleagues work every day to do the right thing improving children's lives as they do.

A break from the relentless negativity of the election campaign during a weekend of renewal.

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TToT: Unlikely Places

This week the students in town returned to their classrooms.  More than ever this year I arrived that first day filled with anticipation.  I could not wait to see their faces, to wrap them in a hug, and size them up to make sure they fared the break well.  Some I worried about all summer.  Would they run afoul of the legal system?  Would there be enough to eat?  Were they safe?
"My" school kids may never make anyone's America's Brightest and Best list; but that does not diminish the love I feel for them.  They are often dirty.  At times they greet kindness with disdain.  Trust is not something they've learned well in their lives.  They can appear mean and obscene, but within each of them beats a wounded heart.  And Wednesday of this week those hearts beat a little faster.  They were in a safe place where the actions of adults are pretty predictable.  There would be breakfast and lunch to fill their stomaches.  And there would be that gray-haired-crazy-woman who they know loves them beyond reason.

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At first glance this may not look like TEN things of thankful, but trust me it is so far beyond ten words can not even say.

TToT: Good Eggs and Other Stuff

I am feeling especially thankful this week.

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Time spent with my kids reminds me what really good eggs they are.  Funny, smart, loyal and good.  I think it is a measure of a truly blessed family when you can honestly say these are the people I would choose to spend my time with even if I wasn't bound by blood.

It was a good week for speeches that renewed my pride in America.  The pen really is mightier than the sword as playwright Edward Bulwer-Lytton first told us in 1839.  Best lines of the week:

When there are no ceilings, the sky's the limit. HRC

I am asking you to join me to reject cynicism, reject fear, to summon what's best in us. Barrack Obama

When they go low, we go high.  Michelle Obama

But the quotes that moved me the most came from the father of fallen war hero, Humayum Khan.

Have you even read the United States' Constitution?  I will gladly lend you my copy.  Look for the words liberty and equal protection of law.

You have sacrificed nothing and no one.  Khizr Khan

Words matter.  They hold the power to build up or to tear down.  They hold the power to move us to tears and move us to action.  I am extremely grateful for the words of passion and encouragement I heard this week.  They make me want to be better.

I had my first day of work for the 2016-17 school year this week.  After all these years I still get a little thrill out of new school supplies.  As I began moving pertinent information from last year's planner onto the snow white pages of this year's, I couldn't help but feel excitement about the potential each of those unmarked days holds.  Come on back, kids!  I am ready for us to get to work.

What You See

There is a boy who tells stories of a home where toughness and street smarts are valued.  Another where physical confrontations resemble boxing matches with upper cuts and spectators cheering wildly.  They describe a place where it is hard for a boy to feel safe.

Too many homes are volatile and filled with children who are watchful and worried.  Living in a constant state of fight or flight alters physical and mental health.  Energy that should be spent growing strong minds and bodies is diverted so that these children can remain on high alert.

I really have no idea of what it is like to live like this.  I am aware though that too many of the young people I work with do.  I am humbled when a student shares a glimpse of this life with me.  For a person who feels so vulnerable to reveal unvarnished truth takes an unfathomable leap of faith.  If I blow it, they may not take a another risk in sharing for a very long time.

In school settings these kids who are so incredibly vulnerable, can present in ways that look defiant, belligerent, and completely disinterested in learning.  Smokescreens to prevent others from seeing how helpless they feel, the behaviors do their job of keeping adults at a distance.  These actions are meant as self-defense, learned coping mechanisms for survival.  Survival, not success.

I look at young people differently now than I once did.  I see them as individuals with stories.  I see their behaviors are a result of experiences, both good and bad.  I see that some of the kids who require me to make a conscious effort to approach and greet them despite an urge to turn away, end up being the ones who touch me the deepest.  I see survivors, and I am determined to walk alongside them so that they can see success.

http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/2016/03/how-im-feeling

This piece is a love letter to the kids I work with written in response to the writing prompt "What was the last thing that scared you?"  I am scared for the young people---for those who live in poverty and those who live in danger.  (This piece is not intended as biographical information on any particular student, but rather to give a feel for what many kids go through.)

I saw an interesting video here which is worth watching.  Several photographers were told different stories about the man they were about to photograph.  One heard he was a hero, another that he was struggling to remain sober, still others heard additional stories.  The portraits that resulted, depended upon the way each photographer saw the person based on his/her beliefs about the man's life story.

Food for thought.  May we all see each other through kinder eyes.

TToT: Beauty in a Week That Was Not Pretty

It was a hard week at work--abuse, theft, self-harm.  Ugh.  There is so much pain in the world.  It is hard sometimes to hear the stories the young people have to tell me.  I always look for beauty in the world as a counter-balance to what I see in my work.  This week I had to look extra hard, but here are ten sources of beauty for which I am thankful:

Babies:  their laughter, smooth skin, soft hair, and sweet scent

Friendship

The love of my family

 Flowers

Buds on Plants and Trees

Roof over my head

Good food on the table

And the opportunity found in tomorrow

When maybe we can come a little closer 

to making things right.

(Look at that!  I found 11 things to be thankful for when I wasn't sure I could even find one.)

https://summ

at2thinkon.wordpress.com/2016/03/05/ten-things-of-thankful-142-sick-note-10thankful/