5,110 days

 My boy,

Today you are 14 years old, and I could swear that just last week, you were only 4.

Each year, you continue to grow into an incredible young man. This year, especially, you're taking the growing part quite seriously. You're at 6'0" now, and I don't doubt that it will be too long before you're even with Dad. You're my go-to for putting away things in the kitchen that go on high shelves or for changing lightbulbs so I don't have to drag out a ladder. You're quite fond of patting me on the head after these chores and affectionately calling me your "low" mother. Most of your summer was spent eating and sleeping, and every time I have to crane my neck up to talk to you, I'm reminded of the hard work it takes for the teenaged body to grow strong and the brain to grown smart. 

Speaking of , you're still as smart as you have ever been. You have an incredible recall for things you have read or seen, even if it was only briefly. I love when you dole out trivia and tidbits about things that you know will interest me. Having a conversation with you is always fascinating because I never quite know the direction it will take. Just remember that intelligence is more than good grades, and don't let that be the only thing that defines you. 

I'm proud of the way you continue to try new things. Sometimes they don't suit you, and you're embracing that it's okay if you decide that an activity isn't for you. Dad and I are impressed with how you are teaching yourself to play guitar. I love when I'm in my bedroom at night and I can hear you practicing in the basement. I know that you're searching for your "thing," but I want you to remember that you're still young, and you have time to find your passion whether it be your career or something you like to do in your free time. It will find you when the time is right; have faith. 

Your sense of humor is one of my favorite things about you. It ranges from typical-middle-school-boy hilarity to very sharp and witty. Between you, Lottie, and Dad, I'm always laughing, even at times when I would rather not. Even though your humor is on point, it's never cruel, and I appreciate that. Life is hard enough without malice disguised as something that is supposed to be funny. 

I know it's not necessarily cool for a boy your age to be kind, but you are. You get frustrated like every other human on the planet, but to your very core, you are a gentle and sweet soul. I also know how difficult it can be to keep that part of yourself locked away for self-preservation, and that's why it means so much when you share that side of yourself with me. You make time for your friends when they need you even if you're not quite sure what to say. Even though we have come a long way as a society, vulnerability is still not a quality that is celebrated, especially for young men. I hope that you don't ever lose the kindness that is a huge part of who you are. And watching you love our crazy, demanding dogs reminds me that you are the animal whisperer of the family. Remember how the cats at the restaurant on Tybee Island were drawn to you? They can all sense that you have so much goodness inside you and not an ounce of harm. 

I'm incredibly proud to be your mom. My wish for you this year is to find your voice and your confidence: you have a lot to say and you deserve to be heard. Be bold and know what you have to share is important. Ask for help when you need it because that's a sign of strength, not weakness. No matter what, know you can always talk to me. 

You are my best boy, and you are so loved,

Mom 

Back to school

 

My kids go back to school tomorrow. I’m not thrilled about it, tbh. There is still so much summer to be had! It won’t really start cooling off here until September, if even then, and I wish the kiddos all still had some time before they had to report back to school. Getting out at the end of May isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know. And as shocking as it may be, I'm rather fond of spending time with them. 

That aside, we have been trying to fit in as much fun and activity we can before school starts. Part of that fun was buying school supplies the other day. Let me tell you, it was a cart full of paper, pencils, binders, notebooks, pens, and markers. It took a lot of time to gather everything, and it wasn’t cheap.

The day was less fun when I got home and happened upon some strong opinions on social media about the amount of supplies requested for classrooms. People were commenting about the fact that they never had to buy so much for schools, and they were sick of sending in classroom supplies that other kids might use. Gasp! The horror of sharing school supplies!

Listen, I get it, but there is a lot happening behind the scenes that no one really knows about. Teachers are already buying their own supplies for their classrooms whether you realize it or not. They are spending hours in their classrooms preparing for your babies to come back and learn. They are spending hours upon hours reevaluating curriculum and changing it to meet new state standards or to meet the demands of parents who cry to the school board about “inappropriate material” even though the same parents have to sign off on the classes their kids are taking. And, of course, teachers are doing this all without pay.

(I’m going to take a quick pause here to tell my dear readers not to even consider coming at me about teacher pay because I will happily grind you into the ground. Cheers.)

I’m not telling you that you can’t be angry about having to buy school supplies or the amount; what I’m saying is not to be angry with the teachers because that’s the wrong audience. The teachers aren’t the people who are begging for more standardized testing and less actual teaching time. They aren’t the ones who are asking to give up teachable moments in the classroom because there are certain topics that certain people don’t want discussed. They aren’t posing with a happy thumbs-up at the thought of another year without a pay raise or the fact that it’s a thousand times easier to go to school sick than it is to prepare for or even find a substitute. The most maddening things about education are usually decided by people who have either never stood in front of a group of kids or someone who has chosen to forget that part of his life. 

Teachers are asking for supplies because the budgets are dwindling. Unfortunately, there are parents who are scrambling to get those supplies this year now that the free lunch funding has gone kaput. That might not be a big deal to some, but we live in a place where we pay book rental fees in the hundreds of dollars a year for our kids to go to public school. Add in the continuation of the global supply chain issues and inflation, and there are going to be some hungry kids in classrooms. In addition to buying chalk and tissues and lots of other things for their classrooms, teachers are also buying snacks so that their students don’t have to try to learn with grumbling stomachs. Yes, I know there are programs that help, but they don’t serve everyone and they’re simply not enough.

So maybe the teachers are asking for more supplies than usual, but they're doing it for our kids, the future adults in our communities. Teachers are doing everything they can to make a successful year for your kids, and they don’t need constant pushback on what they choose to do. They're all trying to help or they wouldn't be teaching: trust me. No one goes into education for money or fame or even recognition, but it sure doesn't feel bad to be supported. 

This is all a long-winded way to remind everyone to be patient and kind. If you can’t do that, at least keep your negativity to yourself. And if you can’t even manage that, go back to school, get your teaching license, and show us what you’ve got.

The banner

 Oh say can you see 

By the blast of the gun

What so proudly we hail'd 

As the Second Amendment

Whose closed eyes and red blood 

Through the discord and strife

O'er the schoolyards we watched 

As our children were cut down

And the rifle's red glare 

With shots bursting through air

Gave proof through each day

That our flag was failing

O say does that red splattered banner yet wave

O'er the land of the dead and all of their graves

You want to be a teacher?

 I could tell you how I always knew I wanted to be a teacher. My dad was a teacher, and I helped him grade papers when I was probably too young to be helping. As I marked multiple-choice questions, I tut-tutted the students who obviously hadn't studied for the test. My favorite author as a child, Laura Ingalls Wilder, was a teacher, and I had great visions of being just like her. By the time I was in second grade, I had taught three friends of mine who were immigrants from Czechoslovakia and Vietnam how to speak English. I don't remember ever being without a book in my hand, even at the end of the bench when I was part of the B basketball team in 7th grade. Let's be honest; I knew I wasn't going to play, so I thought I would read. Win-win if you ask me. Being a teacher has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. 

I could tell you how hard it was when I stopped teaching in the classroom. Trevor and I moved to Lexington after we got married, and I gave up a French program at BFMS that I had fought hard to save. Not only had I saved it, but the numbers were steadily growing. I had every intention of teaching in Lexington after taking some time to get to know my new home, and then two kids in two years happened and I was happy to be at home with them. Even though I was still teaching my children, I missed being in the hallways of a bustling school. 

I could tell you how excited I was to start a new chapter in education when I became a field supervisor for student teachers for Purdue University. Not only would I be in classrooms again, but I would be teaching teachers how to teach. I did that for five years until the pandemic made e-learning necessary, and I couldn't really visit schools anymore. I recently started working for Valparaiso University as a field supervisor, and walking into a school again made me feel like I was home. Sitting in classrooms for the first time and watching "my" student teachers work with middle and high school kids made my heart soar because I knew that there were good people who were still choosing to teach. 

I could tell you that I understand that parents want to know what is happening with their children's education, and well they should want to know. However, if parents think that HB1134 is the way to go, they're simply wrong. What this bill is going to do is cause teachers to quit in droves, and then the parents will complain when they're left up a creek. I can't think of another profession that would put up with being told to publicize a work plan months in advance. Let me tell you this: I'm a trained teacher, and I'm not arrogant enough to think that I know better than someone who has written curriculum for a modern literature class or someone who has a Master's degree in US History. I know a fair amount about education, but I sure don't know everything. I trust the people who know more than I do about their areas of expertise whether it be teachers, doctors, plumbers, lawyers, or mechanics. Anyone who doesn't know about state standards and curriculum doesn't need to be choosing what should or shouldn't be taught in a classroom. 

I could tell you that I have unwavering faith in our public schools and our teachers to do what is best for our students. If that means that they have to swerve away from a lesson plan to embrace a teachable moment, so be it. I have faith in my own children to take what they read, hear, and study and decide for themselves what is right. Trevor and I have worked hard to instill morals and values in both kids, and I trust them to stay true to who they are. Why bother doing all of the work just to shield your children from a world outside of your own home? I expect my kids to go out and make their own decisions and even their own mistakes. 

I could tell you that parents who oppose history curriculum or literature curriculum often have some issues of their own to work through that have nothing to do with what is actually being taught. One person or small group working to have a book removed from the curriculum that is allegedly offensive goes against everything we claim to have fought for as a country.  I remember my sixth grade teacher taking To Kill A Mockingbird from my hands and calling my mother to see if she knew I was reading it. (Apparently he had some strong feelings about me reading it at that age.) My mom just laughed and told him that she had given the book to me herself. If I had questions, I just asked her. She, you know, like, parented me. If more parents would sit down and have conversations with their children about certain topics or books, they might be less offended by something happening in a fictional world.

I could remind you that there are so many ways to be involved in your children's education. Look through their backpacks and ask them about their assignments. Become an observer on Canvas. Talk to their teachers. Watch their grades on Skyward. Volunteer in the classroom. Donate your time or money or baking abilities to the staff on special days. Vote for people who support public education. 

I will tell you that getting rid of HB1134 and any other bills that pop up like it is of the utmost importance to public education. The problem is that if you know, you know, and if you don't know, you're not likely to listen to me anyway. To the naysayers who think they deserve to see lesson plans months in advance, I issue you an invitation or a challenge: if you think you know so much about what should be happening in our schools, go teach. If you don't have a license, hit me up and I'll talk you through different transition to teaching programs. Not willing to do that? Take a good, hard look at yourself and leave education and policy to the experts. 

5,475 days

 

Photo credit: ATR Photos 

My Lottie,

And now you are 15. Not to be totally cliche, but I don't know how time has already brought us here. It truly feels like yesterday when you were born, and now you're begging to get your learner's permit. (And, by the way, that's not happening quite yet.) Now that you're heading into your middle-teens, I wanted to share some thoughts and advice with you. 

I love that you can laugh at yourself: I hope you never lose that.

Read as many books as you can. 

I will continue to ask if you just want to vent or if you want advice when you come to me with a problem. 

I promise that I will do my best to be patient when you're learning to drive. Try to be more cautious than you think you need to be. I trust you; it's other people that scare me. 

Have one outfit that makes you feel powerful and ready to take on the world. 

When you find a really good friend, hold on. True friends are very rare. On the flip side, it's okay to cut people out of your life who constantly bring you down when they should be lifting you up. Life is too short for liars, cheaters, and bullies. 

Keep your skin moisturized and wear sunscreen. 

Don't share all of your life on social media. Taking pictures helps you savor the memories, but that doesn't mean the world needs to see them. 

Travel as much as you can. I think that learning new things about other countries (or your own) can only help to enrich who you are. 

Be a good tipper. 

It's okay to say no if you don't want to do something. 

Learn to enjoy your own company. 

In the words of the fabulous Alexis Rose, "People aren't thinking about you the way you're thinking about you." 

Trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, it probably is. 

Don't be afraid to try new things or take risks because you're fearful of what Dad and I will think. You won't learn and grow without stepping out of your comfort zone. I promise that even though I will not always agree with your decisions, I will always, always love you.  

I may not know where you'll end up or what you'll be doing in the future, but I know who are you are now from the inside out. I am so deeply proud of you. 

All my love,

Mom