The Journey

We don't really know where life is going to take us. We set out with goals and ideas; we make plans, we have dreams - one day we are sailing on a smooth body of water, with the sun warming our face and the wind clearing our mind...the next day we are standing at a crossroad, with no idea which way to go. If we are lucky (and I am) when at this confounding crossroad we won't be standing alone. The love of family & friends will help us find the correct direction. I don't know about tomorrow. My life, at 48, this isn't how I planned my life! Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men! Here I am though, what am I suppose to do? I am so blessed! My Poopy Sister flew to LA, packed my stuff, then drove with me back here to TX. She is sick with exhaustion, I am numb. We just don't know do we? I have spent most of my life being the strong one, the dependable one, I had a life plan...then one day all of that is changed. Adapt, adjust, overcome - What am I going to do with the rest of my life? It is mind boggling, yet I know moving forward is the only thing to do. Movement is life! Empty the backpack, give thanks for what you have, and remember to breathe! That is an important one...the breathing! Has anyone seen me? Ha, that's how it feels! I reckon at one time or another we all face this question. Has anyone seen me? Maybe I am on a milk carton somewhere! No, I wasn't expecting, at 48, starting over...I am the fortunate one - all the people who love and support me have made a soft place for me to land. Now I have to find my legs again, find a new voice, reinvent myself...shucks that sounds like a lot. Adapt, adjust, overcome...and remember to breathe. Guess I better keep it simple for a while. Besides this could be fun, recreating yourself - right? I know I am never alone, I know I am loved, I know there is a reason for everything...I only need be patient and quiet - I only need to still my mind so I might hear the message that will direct me. I can do that - I won't become homeless, I won't be hungry, my heart won't become cold, I will not stop seeking the good in people, I will continue with humble gratitude, I will believe everything happens for a reason - I just need patience until the reason is revealed; I will laugh more and worry less - OK, I am a born worrier, but I'm going to try. Dang, this reinventing oneself...I'm too old for this-or maybe I'm too young for this. Either way, a girl has to do what a girls has to do! Will someone wake me when it's over?

Avoided This Topic

Ihave avoided the elephant in the city, the alleged behavior of school personnel at LAUSD. Given how LAUSD has royally screwed me the past four years I could really "go off!" I will not defend the behavior of the staff in question. I can only speak from my 28 years of experience-8 of those years at LAUSD. The legal definition of abuse is harmful, neglectful, or inappropriate sexual behavior occurring over a period of time. Of course the fine print is 100 pages long! I had a student who had to be carried on and off the bus. She did not speak. She spent the day under a table making a lot of noise & hitting anyone in reach. This went on for probably a month or so. On the bus she wore a safety harness. She still managed to smash her head through a window. One day I was wearing purple socks - i don't know why, I normally wear white socks - this day my socks were purple. As I moved about the classroom the tiniest voice said; "I like your socks." realizing it was Jane(not her real name) I moved a little closer and whispered; "thank you." I then went about teaching the class. Every few minutes I made sure to walk by Jane. An hour or so past and the tiny voice spoke again; "can I touch them?" my first thought was fear. Yet my body moved to the table, Jane inched out a little and touched my socks. "They are soft." she said. "Yes, they are and very comfortable." Jane moved back under the table. When I passed by again she asked; "Can I touch them again?" this time I sat on the floor. Jane touched the socks. "Purple is my favorite color." She said. "Jane, do you want these socks?" her eyes opened so wide,and she smiled - that smile, it was a smile that made you smile - it was infectious. I took off my shoes and the purple socks and I handed them to Jane. Out from under the table she came, sat in a chair, and switched her hole filled socks with the purple socks. If possible, as she looked at the socks on her feet, her smile became even brighter. Jane did not go back under the table. "Do you want me to do something? She asked. "Sure, what would you like to do?" "Plusses, I'm good at pluses." I gave her a paper. When I picked up a pencil my hand was shaking. I gave the sign for the aides to get the other students out of the room. Then I gave her the pencil. She wrote her name on the paper and got to work. At the end of the school day Jane walked to the bus. Over time, Jane opened up like a beautiful rose. Yet the accounts of her life left me in tears. I called DCFS. They came, Jane wouldn't talk to them. I began keeping a log of anything she said, bruises, her poor hygiene...I called DCFS again. I told them about my log. Obviously this child was being abused and neglected. It wasn't enough for them to open a case. Then the day came. Jane arrived at school in an utter panic. Her mother had held a gun to her head because she wouldn't give "The man" a "mouth." DCFS said they would send someone out. Jane did not go home on the bus. A few hours later her mom and two men showed up, with a gun. The school was locked except for one door - I didn't get to it fast enough. Running down the hall, I was yelling call 911. The police sirens scared away the three of them. Around 6:00 that night DCFS showed up. They took Jane - home! The Mom convinced them Jane was storytelling. When I spoke to the social worker she said the house was clean, there was food, Jane had her own room...she was better off there than McClaren(a horrible institution for children who couldn't get a foster home) Jane culminated fron HS. She got a job, an apartment, passed her GED. from time to time I hear from her. She's still smiling.
See I avoided my entire rant regarding LAUSD. Every school has great, mediocre, and bad staff. An elementary teacher is in the classroom alone 5 hours a day. No way I believe teachers could do what these men are accused of without other people knowing. Do you drop a dime on a colleague? HELL YES is the correct answer. I am embarrassed, I have always felt proud when I said; "I am a special education teacher." of late I am ashamed. Teaching is such a privilege. To have the opportunity, everyday to make a difference in children's lives - how humbling...it is a difficult piece of work. Made harder each year. Most individuals quit within the first three years. That number use to be 5 years.
I've dropped dimes on school staff. Even cost one teacher her credential. Nothing I am proud of. My responsibility is to protect every child at my school, or in the grocery store, or across the street - every child! Isn't that what all of us are supposed to do? So often these days I contemplate the subject of compassion. Where has our compassion gone?
The two men at the center of the illegal behavior - one received a $40,000 dollar settlement, filed for his retirement(which, if he's guilty he will spend in prison) Why would the district give him $40,000? Herein the problem lies - LAUSD is a huge corporation. The rule makers work in a huge "power tower" downtown. Their job is number crunching. But my friends education occurs in classrooms. A million miles of BS separate educating children & the number crunchers. The entire district needs to be broken down. Smaller districts which empower each school. A quality of pay that will attract a quality of teacher. I'll get blasted for this - bust up UTLA! Put videos in classrooms. The only people who should be in positions of power should have at least 20 years, in classroom teaching experience! I'll tell ya what I believe, as happened in the Catholic Church, we don't know the half of it - that my friends is frightening. And if you get $40,000 and a full pension for allegedly abusing children...from those number crunchers a million miles from classrooms - isn't there something, fire in the sky, wrong with that?

Commercials

Since Super Bowl commercials are such a big deal it started me a thinking...probably not a good thing! Home security commercials, the family sitting on the couch - the father slumped over because he failed to protect his family - the mother with her pearls and light cardigan, back turned to her husband, her hands on the little girl who looks like someone tore the arms off her favorite doll. Their home is trashed, so their going to sit down and share with us how having a home security system will make us safe, and only a failure father/husband would have ever allowed this to happen in the first place. And why would overweight, rapping hamsters entice me to purchase a car which looks like an ancient clog? Did you see the one with the dog buying off the man with Doritos. The dog was burying the collar and name tag of Fluffy the cat - all I kept thinking was "Some poor little girl is balling her eyes out because her kitty is gone." 3 in 1 hygeine products, made mostly for men, now you can use one substance to wash your hair, your body, and soothe your face after shaving. Are men that lazy they can't manage two hygiene products? And how can one product do all three? If it really can, where is the one for women? Speaking of which...Just For Men hair color - a little comb, 10 minutes...bam you are a stud muffin walking out the door with a woman half your age and half a dress. I checked the price of this product,between $6 & $7. To color my hair I pay $9 - $12, it takes two hours and it stinks for two days. Of course those hard to color gray areas are back in 2 weeks so now I can buy root touch up for only $6-$8. Yay for women. Are women so much more vane (that's not the right spelling of that word but you know what I mean.) Why yes we are, because it has been imbedded into us since childhood. You don't want to be an old maid! There is nothing wrong with being a maid. I don't want to break the bad news, we are all going to get old, men too! Car commercials, manly men drive big trucks, soccer moms drive safe vehicles, rich single folks drive convertibles. It's that easy - except for the other 3 million of us who drive what we can afford or what is already paid for. We don't count. The couple going at the beach with their wine & cheese, they are not driving a 2002 Ford Escort. People are paid millions of dollars - did you count the # of Budweiser commercials during the SB? That must have cost $20 million, could not that money been put to better use..."We at Budweiser have elected not to promote our products, because it is the SB, and y'all are drinking anyway. Instead we are donating $20 million dollars to build 5 advocacy agencies for abused children. So take this commercial free time to go hug your child." that would have been sweet! And did I hear correctly that folks are protesting JCP because they selected Ellen Degeneres as their spokesperson? Seriously? JCP is an old school store I get that, and Ellen did "come out" loudly...15 years ago. Sexual orientation aside, what is the problem here. Get a piece of paper and a writing instrument, blindfold yourself or close your eyes (but don't cheat, trust me I will know) using your non-dominant hand make a list of the 10 things you value most. How did it come out? Can you read it? Was it comfortable? Try writing with your toes. Imagine your whole life having to utilize what wasn't you just to get by. Goodness when will people wake up. I didn't proofread this so I apologize for typos!

Do It Anyway

Y'all might know the song by Martin McBride - turns out Mother Theresa first had the idea. Everyday at least one challenge presents itself. Everyday we are given an opportunity to make a choice - may not be an easy choice and it might not be a life altering choice; could be as simple as letting a car go in front of you, or letting the person with less items ahead of you in the grocery line - maybe it is reaching out to someone you haven't spoken to in a while, or hugging someone you love. Life is not always fair. I will testify to that! I have spent a lifetime wondering what the heck I did in my previous life to deserve some of the stuff God has thrown at me. I have always been a big fan of Mother Theresa - she challenged the church every step of the way. See, she couldn't understand why the church would turn its back on the sick & infirmed. She couldn't wrap her head around the idea, despite public outcry - why the church wouldn't do it anyway. I've read many of her letters, she was one lady with an opinion and not afraid to express it. Should they toss her aside would not have mattered, she would have done it anyway. So many things we do, working for a better life, the desire to be in love, wanting a new toy...I'd say for the most part we work to make our lives and the lives of those we love better...what about the rest? Over 50% of marriages end in divorce - are you going to close your heart? I've worked as long as I can remember, now at 48 everything I was building has crashed, should I have not worked? Yeah, when you give a stranger a few bucks they might go buy beer...so what? Do it anyway! If everyone of us, just once a day committed a random act of kindness - my goodness that would be sweet. Even if your kindness is not appreciated...do it anyway! Let go of the past, forgive, live right here and right now - and if you want a new toy; don't deny yourself - do it anyway! The potential for really turning around the great USA is not in the BS rhetoric of these greasy politicians talking about change and sacrifice and hard choices - what do they know? Real choices happen in homes where parents collect cans so they can put food on the table. Real choices happen in hospitals where you hold the hand of someone you love for the last time as they turn off the machines. Real choices are forgiving, and yes turning the other cheek until your black and blue because the relationship you want has more depth and meaning than the person attempting to thwart it. Yap, yap, yap, on they go - you and I, we are the real agents of change! We can start small, work our way to bigger things - and even if all indications are that our actions might not bring about the desired affect...gosh darn it - lets DO IT ANYWAY!

Black Heart?

Today I had conversations with three people I love & respect. My father has been ill. He had surgery on Wednesday. Cancer, again. He is of course upset. My father donated the sperm which created me - but fatherhood, you know being a Dad; that was not his thing. However, when I returned to Malone to care for Mommie I made it a priority to build a relationship with him. I prayed a lot! I found in forgiving him his failures I was freeing myself. So now we have a relationship. It is by no means a typical father/daughter relationship, but it is something. I do love him & I believe he loves me. His mother, my beloved Little Gram took every breath for her children & grandchildren & great grandchildren. She cared for her sister, mother, & husband until the day they went home. Why my father didn't inherit or learn the gift his children were, I don't know. I reckon my Grandfather was a tough dude. He never said much. When he spoke I attentively listened- he was a wise man. None of this is really my point - Rosie told me not to lose sleep over it; that isn't happening. Eileen said you can only turn the other cheek so many times...Poopy said it has nothing to do with me...see my father & I alone have wonderful conversations. He likes to tell stories about the family history. There are no more Stewart's,no boys to carry on the name. Since I will never marry the Stewart name ends with me. When I was born, had my father done the right thing he would have let us go live with Little Gram & Aunt Norma. That would have been the unselfish thing to do. They lived 6 hours away. He didn't want us that far away, though I don't know why - we only saw him a few minutes a week. And as it turned out Mommie, Daddy Pat, Scotty, Wanda, Rosie, Poopy, & Bug A Boo are the best family. If we had went to Addison, Eileen, my guardian angel - well we would have not met. Even still sending us to be with blood relatives would have been the right thing and it sure would have saved a lot of people a lot of heartbreak! My father remarried...I don't know how old I was 6 -7 I don't know. What I do know is his second wife hated me from the word go. Of the two of us, Linda and I, I was quiet, obedient, desperate to please - and I guess that made me a good target for a bully. Yet I wonder if some folks are just born with black hearts? Why would this woman hate me all these years - and she does! She tries to interfere anyway possible between my father and I. I feel bad when I'm in Malone cause I go to see my father, inevitably when I get back to Eileen's I am a crying little girl; then Eileen cries...then she gets angry for my whole turning the other cheek. Eileen has used 100 miles of duct tape putting me back together. And I try, Gaynell always answers the phone, I make conversation with her. Ask how she is feeling, inquire about her grandchildren. I bring her a gift when I go to the house. But when she looks at me - I can feel her hate. I don't even like the word hate, but she hates me. She never treated Linda and I the same. It was no picnic for either of us, but she was nicer to Linda. I guess, like I said, I was the easier target. I wouldn't speak up for myself. Though it's funny because I was always protecting Linda from the bullies on the bus or at school. Even that New Years Eve when I called Mommie and asked if we could come home, even that I was doing for Linda. And how come Linda's heart is so black. I have never met my niece or nephew. I'm their only Aunt, doesn't matter...oh, and the years I spent trying to be her sister. It was pointless, she doesn't hate me, but my existence bothers her. Poopy and I are two peas in a pod. Rosie and I love, understand and respect one another. Scotty, Wanda, Bug A Boo, Frank & Rick - I am just family, bloodline or name mean nothing. I am the only non-relative Eileen's children call "Aunt.". Mrs. Murphy signs, Mrs. Murphy, Mom. I have all of this love - then these two people who wish I would go away. Yes, I know focus on the love and forget the pinheads! I know, I know, I know! Really I know! Of course my father being sick, hearing the fear in his voice - this has stirred me all up. I offered to fly to Florida to help Gaynell take care of him, would of thought I was offering shit on a shingle, but not because of me, because of her. And I'm sick myself. Everyday is a struggle, but I would of went. Poopy was already looking for flights. See what I mean, Poopy would have gotten me to Flotida to be with my father because she loves me that much...but my father could not accept the gift because his wife has a black heart! That is some kind of jacked up! Why I cry, because I'm afraid my father will die, and his wife will not allow me a part in his send off to heaven. This is why I cry. I want to eulogize my father, you know why? Because I know him best! 48 years I have spent examining, probing, contemplating...48 years I have ached for him just one time to pick me first. I know my father. He does not have a black heart. Yes he sucked at being a Dad. Yes, he made mistakes, but his core is good. And I want to tell people that. And she is going to try to stop me - she will want her children to do everything. He is my father, Daddy Pat was my Daddy, my knight in shining armor. Larry is my father and I love him. If he should go before me I don't want to fight for the opportunity to give him one last gift - to stand before God, family, and friends and let them know my father was a good man and I love him.