The Center Cannot Hold 9/18-9/28/2006

Waiting for a Thornton train on my way home @ 7:05.  Tonight was the first TABS (Teachers/Administrators/Board) meeting of the year.  We did a follow up and set goals.  I am feeling extra crabby.  I'm tired and super snippy.  I am beginning to resent all the extra work I'm doing.  I never get home before 7 anymore.  I fight the urge to give up at least once a week...usually more.  I miss Bob and Zack.  I miss my friends.  Oh, good, train's done...so is my whining.

7 days later:
Suzanne is very heavy today, which is not like her and throws me way off.  I am very tired - a new level of tired... it is frustrating to keep finding it impossible to scrape together enough energy to write an email, or grade a few papers, or think about what needs doing next.  It wouldn't matter if I could figure out what needs doing because I wouldn't be able to do it.  I think it has to do with my diet.  I should see a nutritionist...nah...too tired.

3 days after that:
Momma's in the hospital -- waiting on her angiogram that is scheduled for tomorrow morning.  I am in sixteen-year-old denial.  This cannot be happening, so it isn't.

Just spoke to Rog.  He is handling it like a pro.  (Dad has a knack for blowing up over weird, little stuff, like someone taking his pen.  He handles the things people are allowed to freak out about like a champion, though.  When I was sixteen, I buried his van up to the doors in sand on the beach at Beercan Alley.  No big deal... I didn't even get grounded or lose driving privileges.)

 

So he tells me the cardiologist said Mom will probably go right from the angiogram to by-pass surgery.  That yanked me out of my thin but protective denial bubble.  The world is spinning on and on, and I want to scream STOP!!!  HALT!!  JUST GIVE ME A LITTLE FREAKIN TIME HERE!!  JUST WAIT FOR ME TO PROCESS AND LOVE AND ENJOY SOME TIME WITH MY MOM!!! But Time is deaf, unyielding, and the world keeps spinning so fast I'm woozy...just slow down a little? please?
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*The stress of the union presidency eased up as I grew more confident and comfortable with myself in that role.  I even found it to be exciting, fun, and rewarding at times (mostly due to Suzanne's calm, wise, generous, and often humorous support).  But the demands of the position just seemed to grow and grow.  I am revisiting these entries, anchoring myself in the relief of a life filled with stuff I want to do. We get to choose.  Today I choose joy.  It is the only real thing I can do to change the world.

**Stay tuned for more on the momma trauma.  (I know I was wrong for that, but she is ok, so it's ok.)

Shanamazing. 8/3/2006

Saugatuck Reunion.  Day 2.5.  10 a.m.-ish. Coffee shop with Shannon.
We are sitting outside, Shan is enjoying her Chai latte intake and her life intake. Today, right now, I would like to capture how I see her in writing.  Here I go...

It's been about ten minutes and I can't seem to get the words.

Maybe...I see Shannon as a beautiful dichotomy of strength and sensitivity...of careful and abandon...of serious and silly...of sweet and cut throat...of tolerance and judgement...of south side and north side.  She adapts intelligently, she may want to complain but we rarely hear it, she is honest and forgiving, and strangely intimidating without meaning to be.  She is fresh and surprisingly fragile, yet wise beyond reason, and capable of armoring herself impenetrably against unwanted intruders.  She will not miss a new experience.  She is the opposite of lazy, yet she naps frequently and can be very, very patient.  She has a fast and furiously sharp wit that she will employ mercilessly if she is sure it won't hurt anyone, but she will guard it and check it if she senses your heart breaking even a little.  She is daring. She is caring. She is her very own goodness.

I wonder how she sees herself.

Relief? Relief. 6/26/2006

Earlier today I was going from 94 to 57 when a gold SUV pushed into my lane right on top of me.  I broke pretty hard and started skidding all over 2 lanes and 2 shoulders.  I was sure, at least 5 different times during that 40ish seconds, that this was it.  I imagined the feeling of the impact from one divider, then an oncoming car, then another divider.  I was so scared.  How do you write that kind of scared?  I was scared of the phone call Bob, Zack, and my mom were going to get, then scared of dying, then scared of being mangled for life and not dying, and way back there...around the edges of all that fear...was something else...was it relief?  Was it relief that once I did plow into something, all the spinning would, alas, come to a stop?  Or was it another kind of relief...a cowardly kind?

If that is true, and there was some part of me looking to get out of this BEAUTIFUL life, I need to re-evaluate.  Some of the choices I have made may be really hurting me.  Candice said her only concern with me taking on this job was what this job could do to me.  Am I strong enough to be what over 400 smart people expect from me?  Am I looking for an excuse to start saying no?  Why was that feeling there at all - barely making itself known - but definitely hanging around enough to have me recognize it?

Relief.  I know that's what I felt when the spinning finally did stop, and I landed on the shoulder facing oncoming-2:00 in-the-afternoon-Chicago traffic....

without

a

scratch. 

Maybe that other thing was more of an acceptance of whatever's next?  My own relaxing into the awareness of this body's temporariness?  What's really clear is that something inside me completely took over and drove me out of that mess. Whatever it was, it wanted me to stick around, and I am here now, and here is good. That, I know for sure.

An Autumn Day in June. 6/10/2006

The day keeps bouncing back and forth between 65 and 70 degrees.  Sheryl and I took a ride to Anderson's for spice wine and cider donuts because we're milking this "fall" day-with-no-threat-of-winter for all it's worth.  It is a joy getting a pretend autumn day.  We settled on a fabulous Port that does the spice wine thing with way more power-WOW.
(No donuts because they are not in season) shhhhhh.  There is a pot of Italian sausage soup on the stove top.  Maggie is galloping, no, prancing, around the yard in a crazysweet hippie outfit and hat.  Sheryl's sitting in the middle of her magic, resting her damaged discs, soaking them in wine.  Zack and Em are swimming - brrrrr - and frisbeeing and Jack Johnsoning and learning to know each other again.  Morris is lounging on the gazebo railing.  Lucy's sniffing the perimeter, looking for crumbs.  Anderson's Indiana Port is warming my belly and filling me with silly.  Life just can't get better than this.

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*Note: A quick history on the power of that last sentence...
My sister Jen believes that every time you announce (with all the conviction you can muster) that life simply cannot get any better than this, that God/universe/source takes that as a personal challenge.  She has since proven this theory too many times to count.  Try it.  I dare you.

End of Year Shananigans 6/1/2006

Yesterday: Poker Walk, Checkout, Terri's mom is having surgery today,  lunch w/Vrehas, Fuqua's retirement is sinking in, Galloy agreed to do Membership Committee, Fake principal interviews from faculty, tomorrow is golf outing - Suzanne, me, Rachel, and Ken.  Bob's joining Jim Dye's foursome.

Today (6/1/2006) One of my favorites in the "good people" catagory (which is why I will be calling her Peggy instead of her real name) walks up to Ken's table at the golf outing and with a nice buzz on, asks him, "what does yuh-neee-un mean?"  And Ken asks, "what?"  As everyone else watches, she repeats, "yuh-nee-un?...on your shirt."  Then she points to the giant word on his shirt and pronounces each syllable carefully while pointing to the letters, "yuh" (u) "nee" (ni) "un" (on).  He responds dryly with the seven other educators at the table, "it's UNION, Peg."  She says "Ohhh, oh my...please don't tell anyone!"

Earlier, on the golf course, Ken was whipping waterballoons at Gary, Larry, and Deb all day.  He jumped out of the cart while Rachel was driving and ran along side it while the ten pounds of keys and wallet and golf balls and other crap in the side pockets of his shorts swished back and forth opposite his stride -- fucking hysterical!  I almost peed my capris!  We left secret messages and accusations for Deb and George (who were behind us) inside the holes: a purple triangle, "Deb's not wearing her big girl panties," "George eats grass," and of course, pretzels.  All of this sillliness might have been influenced a little by the special lemonade I brought in two giant pitchers that took up the spot on the cart of the clubs I do not own.  The great irony, Bob taught me that it is proper golf ettiquette not to step on the terf too near the holes.  Maybe I need a few other lessons.

*Thank you universe, for putting a golf course willing to put up with Teachers Gone Wild year after year so near our school.  There is great joy in the release that happens there each June.

Sound Advice from Teenage Boys 5/28/2006

It's Sunday.  Bob is upstairs in our Courtyard hotel room, dressing for church...Baptist Church nonetheless.  Zack is waiting for the shower.  I am having a cup of way-too-hot coffee in the lobby--waiting for my gentle men.  Why are we churching for the first (and only) time together...ever?  Zack is singing in the choir...a Salem Boys Stewards of Grace guest choir.  Those two guys upstairs are my strength, and they are what makes it possible for me to let go of the shit from my other life ...and bother to pick it back up again.  I could not do either without them.  I would simply get buried in shit forever, or until the white coats came and took me away.

Last night we stole Zack for a night.  Bob golfed while Zack and I putzed around, then we all went to see Over the Hedge, which was over the edge ridiculous.

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Later, after church at Woody's (local gas station/buffet restaurant) and with the whole Salem gang, we are being entertained by the silliness of Zack and his friends when several bikers pulled into the parking lot:

Zack: There's a wild biker gang comin' in, let's run!
Chin: Just show them salad.  Then they'll run.  They hate salad.

Poetry Slam 5/12/2006

Thornwood Poetry Slam at Lincoln Oasis with Zack and Patti and Jess and these teenage poets.  This is so perfectly absurd watching young-full-of-creative-goodness language artists spit their pain and fierce convictions, love and intuitions, rants and hater amunition at the McDonalds Highway Oasis.  This is indeed a once-in-a-lifetime-crazy-glorious-experience.  Two ancient Gary guys belting out oldies while silver-haired stewardesses dance with our TW brothas and sistas of piff.  So sweet to see them mixin together, sharing their genius, baring their souls, appreciating each other.  This language thing is POWERFUL... STEAMROLLER POWERFUL...rollin me right over into jelly-joy. They are doing the Coco Cabana Conga!  Thank you for sharing the gift of this night with me!

205 Leadership 2006

I am a fan of collecting quotes.  These are all from 205 Leadership.  (This is a different kind of joy)

"We're building the ship as it's flying."
"Forgive me for being so spinikitee, but..."
"Let's write a waiver to waive the waiver."
"I'm thinking outside the contract."
"I'm not really sure what the Board does, I just wanna make some changes."
"I've always been a component against Block Scheduling."
At a Safe Schools Meeting:  "Well, I don't see the problem...we only have a couple bad deans."
"Now everyone is all discomboobulated."
"Hindsight is 50/50."
"We will try to forget that little foo poo."  (instead of faux pas)
"Education is not something that I do; it is something I believe."

Union Leadership in response to 205 leadership: "You can't write a grant on a wish."

An infamous parent: "The aviance in Thornridge is just so low."
Same parent: "It's alright to disagree to agree."

One of our own: "Can't you just give us some global specifics?"

A funny exchange between negotiators:
Team member: Was there a lot of movement?
Mediator: Define what you mean by "a lot."
Lucky Bill:  More than none?

Add your own favorites in a comment.   Please, in the name of joy, protect anonymity.

Joy in Race Relations 4/10/2006

Monday.  Jenny came to see me in my classroom after she presented for TW Career Day.  Randle H. taught her how to do the Black Power fist thing.  She asked, as she raised her fist in the air uncomfortably, "Is it okay if I do this?" The kids adored her.  I know because they said she was crusty.