This is why we can't have nice things

Yesterday we had a lockdown and an evacuation drill.  A two for one.  Before school, Matt was buzzing around the faculty room getting the breakfast ready that he was treating us all to for Teacher Appreciation Week (he's given us breakfast every day which is so kind!).  I said, "I have a question about the drill."

He said, "It's a drill."

I said, "But which kind exactly, the kind where we hide?  And then we evacuate?"

He said, "Yeah.  No big deal."

I said, "You say it's no big deal, but it is stressful."

That effectively stopped him in his tracks.  He is sort of a Tasmanian devil when he has a task in front of him, but if you're insistent, you can get his attention.

I explained how I don't really know where to have my students hide.  He said I should keep my blinds closed all the time for safety.

I died a little inside.  I know that, but I also hate being in a room with the blinds closed all the time.  If something actually happened and my students were at more risk because I like sunshine, I would never forgive myself.

So I kept my blinds closed all day.  

I explained to my students about the drills we were going to have.  They were a little bit excited but also nervous.  I gave them all the specifics and said they should take their coats when we go outside because it is cold.  I explained that we'd have the lights off and the door locked and I told them where to hide.  I had my interpreter whiz kid explain it to the one who doesn't speak English.

I have a student who daily puts her name followed by The Great on every assignment.  Sometimes she'll sign The Excited or The Awesome after her name.  I always give it a smiley face.  

Yesterday this is what she wrote on her paper.

I said, "Are you scared?"  She nodded.

I told her it was going to be OK. 

(We're practicing something where we are completely vulnerable to a gunman, but it's going to be...OK?  Sometimes I don't know what else to say.) 

When it was time for the drill and the announcement was made, they gasped and scurried to one of the two spots we'd designated.  I turned off the lights and made sure the door was locked.  I whispered that as long as they couldn't see out of the little crack in the window that the blinds don't cover, they were fine.

My student who had written on her paper that she was scared, pulled a pencil out of her pocket.  "For protection," she said.

When Matt rattled the door to make sure it was locked, they all jumped.

I huddled there with them.  I looked into their faces in the dim light and knew that if it really happened, I would take a bullet for any of them.  I would spread my body over them like a human shield.  I would do what I could.

I hate that we live in a society where teachers have to think that.

My students were worried they had left their computers on their desks.  "Won't the shooter know we're in here if there are computers out?"

I didn't say it, but the shooter would know we were in there.

A girl whispered, "What if this really happened and I was in the bathroom?"

I whispered, "You could knock on any classroom and yell your name and they would let you in."

A boy whispered, "No, at a high school the shooter said he was a student and then they let him in."

I whispered, "This is different.  The teachers would know it was a kid.  They'd let you in."

A few of the girls concurred that their voices are different than grown men, who they are assuming a shooter would be.

After a little while one of them whispered, "What if the shooter was right there by me when I was trying to get in the door?"

I whispered, "They wouldn't be."  (I mean what else am I going to say?)

I hate that we live in a society where teachers have to have conversations like that.

Weather

Yesterday was Marianne's birthday.  It snowed the night she was born.  One of those anomaly weather stories.  My mom was in labor and my dad was out feeding cows--not knowing she was in labor.  He lost his wedding ring and was looking for it and my mom was convinced her baby would be born fatherless.

Snow on May 7!  Crazy!

Until this year.

It's been a wild week.  We've had snow and rain and lots of wind.

Adam, in the Midwest, had this weather report:

He hunkered down during the tornado sirens and they parked Hootie (the WGU van) in covered airport parking to save him from hail up to the size of half-dollars.

Weather.

But then, yesterday morning, this happened:

A visit from the balloon fairy!

Marianne's birthday seemed like as good a day as any for the occasion.

Correction:  Adam says my writing is like an Impressionist painting.  I'm not hyper focused on details, no one would accuse me of that.  My mom is a detail person.  She sent me a (loving) email correcting my story.  My dad lost his ring in January.  His vehicle broke down the night Marianne was born.  So I guess no snow on her birthday.  So now the record has been righted.

How to decide if you want to be a teacher

Yesterday I had recess duty and it was cold and intermittently snowing and raining and I would just like May to know that I expect better of her.

A third grader (not one of mine) kicked a stray soccer ball way harder than he needed to return it to the game and it hit a kid.  I told him he should apologize.  He sneered at me and said, "I didn't do it on purpose."

(What can I say?  Some of them are very...charming.)

I said, "It's the right thing to do to apologize when you hurt someone even if it was an accident."  He looked unconvinced so I added, "It's what grown-ups do."

He said, "Well I don't even want to be a teacher, so there."

To my credit I didn't say what I was thinking, that school children everywhere would thank him.

At lunch time, the administrators gave us lemonade in fancy cups with paper umbrellas in honor of teacher appreciation week.  My students were very impressed.  They wanted to know where I got the cup and did I want to keep it.  I said yes I want to keep it, mostly because I didn't want them arguing over who got it.

I told them that it was for teacher appreciation week.

One of the girls said to the other, "I'm going to be a teacher!"

She replied, "Me too!"

So when deciding on your future career kids, teachers get fancy cups, but the downside is that they have to have basic manners.

I guess decide if it's worth it....

Weekend

 With Adam being gone, the best part of my weekend was hanging out with our kids (including telephone conversations with Braeden).  

Saturday Mark and I went grocery shopping (our relationship has evolved sufficiently that we can peacefully grocery shop together).  He came over and did several chores around the house, including washing windows.  There were streaks on the window above the front door.  I went and found him on the deck where he was working on the deck box he was building us.  I asked him if he guaranteed his work because there were streaks.  He sighed and said, "OK, I was afraid of that.  I'll get a bigger ladder."

It's nice to have a kid around who can do stuff.

Especially when the kid who can do stuff needs money.

I helped him finish the deck box (nobly holding the lid in place while he attached the hinges).  I enjoyed spending the day with him.

We met Emma at MOD for dinner and then came to our house to watch Star Wars.  May the 4th be with you. There was discussion about which movie to watch and Mark was thinking about Episode I because it is its 25th anniversary but I said, "But then we have to watch Episode I." 

Mark thought that was a valid point.  

We ended up watching Episode IV: A New Hope.  It's a good movie and it's part of our boys' childhood just like John Wayne movies were part of my brothers' childhood.

I was exhausted afterward and we prayed together and I told them good night and don't wake me up.  I have no idea how long they stayed, but adult children are pretty great.

Especially adult children who know better than to wake you up.

Grateful Friday

I'm grateful that after an abominably hard day at school when I should have handled things a lot better than I did, I have an understanding principal who made me feel better and a school counselor who stopped by my classroom to hug me.

I love where I work.

I'm grateful that after an abominably hard day at school I have Adam.  He is a soft place to fall and does much to buoy me.  Daily.

I'm grateful that Marianne is understanding.  We set a standing phone date and so far I've forgotten both times.

I'm a real champ....

I'm grateful Mark's car is back in commission.  He and I drove to Nephi to retrieve it and we had a nice visit.

I'm grateful for a weekend where I hope to rest and recharge and get stuff done in equal measure.

I'm grateful for optimism that leads me to believe that my to do list will get done.

Then there was one

About a month ago, a man was changing his tire on the side of the freeway near here and was struck by another car and killed.

I made my family promise me that if they were ever in that situation, they would get all the way off the road.  "Ruin the tire," I said.  "Destroy the rims.  I will buy you new ones."

I stand by that and I'm thankful that the other night when Adam was having tire trouble (he could tell something was amiss), he pulled off the road and was on a frontage road when he had a pretty intense blowout.  The studs that the lug nuts attach to were broken!  He had to call a tow truck and it was a whole ordeal because the first truck didn't have the wherewithal to load the car (they hadn't read the notes).  So it took a long time, but Adam came home safe and I'm very grateful for that.

I picked him up after 9:30 Tuesday night at our mechanic shop.

It's the third time in a week we called roadside assistance (Emma locked her keys in her car earlier).

I'm glad that we have Joan going strong!

Last night we drove to Provo to get Mark so he could stay here so he and Adam could drive me to work, so he could drive Adam to the airport and then pick me up at school later and hopefully we will go to Nephi!

Tabor is selling a horse and I think at this point, we should consider buying it.

I DO understand

Yesterday I had a girl in tears after lunch recess.  She is a tough girl, apt to retort with cutting words, but she was devastated.

Mean girl strikes again.

I said my oft repeated refrain of don't let her have power over you; go find someone else to play with.

She looked at me, big tears pooling in her pretty brown eyes, and said, "You don't understand how I feel."

I said, "I DO understand how you feel."

And in that moment I remembered how it felt to cry myself to sleep like I did multiple nights in 6th grade.  What seems like no big deal and just find someone else to play with to me, is a big deal to her.  I remember that.

Empathy has a power that mere sympathy does not and once we're safely removed from trouble, it's with gratitude that we can pick up empathy.

I said, "Once I had a hat I wore to school.  At recess I was playing kickball and I took off my hat.  This girl spit in my hat and I didn't know she had.  I put the hat back on when it was time to go inside and my entire class laughed at me."

Her eyes got wide and she said, "What?!?" and "Woah."

"I understand how you feel," I said.  "And I know that the only thing to do is ignore the mean girl.  Don't let her bother you.  That was the only thing that helped me."

I also have the vantage point of knowing that the mean girl in my class has a family in crisis and upheaval right now and she is grasping for control, even if it is only the control of being able to manipulate her classmates.

Mean girls lose their power.  Hair can be washed.  Someday you'll have a story to tell and maybe you can reassure someone else that life goes all the way on.

Sometimes empathy is worth the price we pay for it.