It Takes a Village

I’ve been having a professional dilemma…as a teacher/parent. It involves one of my best and brightest students/children. In keeping with my belief that troubles are divided when they’re shared, I’ve repeated and rehashed it with my sisters…and Adam…and Janet. Yesterday I had the chance to talk to 2/3 of my brothers about it too (I would have talked to Enoch too but as he later explained, he was in a precarious and illegal driving situation when my phone call came in and decided he needed to concentrate on the matters at hand…good choice Enoch). They’re busy and have jobs and I can’t talk to them as easily when they’re doing things like folding laundry so I don’t talk to them as much as I’d like.

I’m missing out.

They listen. At least I think they do. It’s hard to tell on the phone…they could be setting the phone down and throwing darts at a board while I prattle on. I doubt that was happening yesterday though. Ammon was driving on the freeway while I talked to him and Tabor was in a field, checking his horses. No dart boards involved.

Anyway, they listen. And they understand. They understand like someone who’s known you since your Cyndi Lauper days. They also, in their way, tell me to get over myself. And they say it kindly so I don’t get mad.

It takes a village to raise a Thelma. I’m glad Marianne, Olivia, Enoch, Tabor and Ammon are in my village. I think we’re missing an important key to the whole village thing though. Aren’t fellow villagers supposed to live in the same…village?