Hurts Like a New Pair of Shoes...

God created us for His glory, yet there are days when I feel so inadequate. Like a cat on a ferris wheel (Yep, I've been watching too much Cosby Show--Thanks, Theo!), I'm fearful. I'm like a child anxiously waiting with excitement. However, in this case it is also like a new pair of shoes; it hurts...

There is great excitement and pride with a new administration for our nation. Yes, it shows that we're a country that has moved from some of the antiquated thinking and ways held by some of our Founding Fathers. And, as expressed by Beyonce', looking at our President makes me want to be smarter. Better. And, not for my people, but for my community, my country, my world.

The reality is there are still those in the nation harboring much anger who will never accept the reality of a Black President. There are those who desire to see him fail and speak of it regularly, shedding tears about the state of our country. And, I will accept that such scenarios exist. I am not as consumed with them as I am about the state of our educational structure.

Budget cuts have hit our schools quite hard in a number of states and will be setting us back in some ways by 5 to 10 years. We're losing funding that has assisted with technology and positions are being taken anywhere possible. This will increase class sizes, perhaps lose funding for certain (needed) programs, and essentially hurt the process of teaching and learning. Yes, it hurts and bad!

But, I don't think that is what hurts like the new pair of shoes...Because as a lady, getting a new pair of shoes is one of my pastimes. I get excited because of how it will match a certain outfit, the ooohs and ahhhs from my fellow peers, and, of course, I wear shoes well! In buying that pair of shoes, there is pride in finding them, getting perhaps a great deal, and maybe knowing there was only one left in that size. You come to the day that you're to put them on and you check yourself out in the mirror: Yes, you're dressed to kill...Every response desired is given, but at midday the toes are hurting. The feet are cramping up and you're ready to throw on another pair of shoes---no, forget shoes, your feet want the freedom to breathe and be naked. They're in pain!!!

That is how I feel about the state of education.

I'm so hungry for the purchase. I love children. I enjoy and have passion when it comes to the idea of helping kids to learn, teaching them something new, and seeing their excitement when the light turns on...I'm more sold on finding these experiences than the actual excitement of buying the shoes! For real!!! Tapping in to places with kids wanting to learn is just like the shoe shopping experience. I'd take a flat shoe, tennis shoes, heels, stilettos, boots, sandals, etc. Similarly, I help all kids no matter the age, venue, color, etc. So, why does it hurt like a new pair of shoes?

We have kids who are not learning. Students are not being served in our current structure. I watch and know of students who are responsible, sweet and respectful kids, who are not getting anything out of the teaching methods. I also know of some of the rudest, most ungrateful children who feel the school organization has nothing to offer them--never has and never will. I could blame parents, but that is not always the problem. I can only work with what I know and that is the educational organization. Somewhere in the mix the child that starts off at an early age loving the idea of learning and knowledge quickly takes a turn and is able to form the words, "I hate school." What creates that? There is a barrier or something wrong. These are kids who know they disdain the thoughts of having to go to a schoolhouse by the time they are in first grade. Usually, these are students of poverty, color, special needs...You cannot tell me that there is nothing wrong with our educational system. And, I'll take it a step further by adding the category: male.

What hurts is that the number of jails being built gets determined by the reading level of black males in grades 3 and 4. Truth. What hurts is the debate of there not being any issues with regards to our educational system and offense being taken when the topic of race rears its ugly head.

I'm certainly not trying to come off as decadent or corrupt, but something has to give. It is a problem that our students of color are not enrolled in Advance Placement classes. Dr. Donna Ford spoke of the disparities that exist in this world when it comes to black youth. The numbers are startling for the number of blacks recommended for Special Education but hardly ever for Gifted Education. And, let's not even begin to give the numbers for our dropout rates or percentages for those who are graduating.

I'm on a mission to save kids like I love buying shoes. Call it an insane, pointless, thoughtless thing to do, but I can't help the purpose and love He's placed in my heart. I find myself eating on ideas more than actual food itself. And, I wish every person who came to the table to serve kids could have that type of love, drive, and motivation. I see it in some, but definitely not enough...I'm ready to think outside the box and make use of a system that is being underused and taken for granted. The state of education has become what the woman buyer sees as an ongoing sale for shoes. She knows she can go in whenever she needs to and can get a deal; it's taken for granted because it's such a good deal where perks never cease. She needs something new to rekindle the spark and thrill given when the words: SALE ~ Buy One, Get the Second 1/2 Off appear. I don't want the feeling to hit me on an occasional here or there. I need the fix to overtake and engulf me so much that I could persuade others.

Let's let the shoes hurt! Trust me. If worn a few times, the shoe will break in...Especially, if it is a good leather, durable pair. That's the beauty of a good shoe. It will endure for a lifetime.

No pain, no gain.

"Frenemies"

This afternoon I sat in the Guidance Office of one of our counselors with approximately five young ladies who were in midst of life drama instead of focusing on their true purposes for being in a school building, which is to learn. The rumor mill had struck again, and the lovely young ladies were guilty of tragedy that had put their friendships at jeopardy for the hour.

I sat there feeling like a bulldozer had ran over my head a few times, since I am fighting a cold. I was supposed to leave the building at 1:30, but it was after 2 and the kids were worth my time.

In bringing the story to a close and conclusion, one young lady gave enlightenment as she shared that they use the word "Frenemy" to define who they are to each other in the seventh grade. It was like an epiphany--almost genius: Frenemy--the combination of friend and enemy. It's exactly what our middle schoolers are to each other at this age. They feed into friend and foe given the day, class period, and emotion. This is natural and what middle school is all about, but it becomes chaos for those families and parents unable to roll with daily soap opera.

The hardest part of my work is the battle of feeling justified in the decisions made daily. Students, teachers, colleagues, and parents challenge and question decisions regularly. And, mainly when it comes to discipline.

Today will likely remain a memorable day in my mind for ages. Professionally, I had one of those moments where I thought I just need to look for another job. I reflect though at the end of the day and definitely would not change how I handled a situation that occurred with a parent today. My greatest "frenemy" is that of our parents and my bosses...

Matters of the Heart

...Every opportunity is given to choose right. Somehow I continue to take the challenge. Only time will tell; however, history is one of the best predictors of future behavior. So I walk slowly into this knowing I'm taking a risk and even shutting doors of opportunities...I pray this journey will be different from times before; I'm told it just may be. Why am I sitting here, though, feeling like I've been punked?

The saying goes "Be careful what you ask [pray] for."

Lord, I'm battling matters of the heart. Be our guide.





And just when hope had almost dried up, faith stepped in and restored me.

...always right on time...

Celebrating Her Life

One weekend you're celebrating life and the joining together of two as one. Two mothers excited that their children have found true love in each other and are transitioning into the next phase of life. The following weekend you're watching a mother mourn the loss of her fourteen year old child and only daughter in a high school auditorium of classmates, teachers, and community. We all sit with our tissues and sniffling, wondering why her precious life was made short. We sit and trust that God's perfect will is not always to be understood. I hear her mom praising God for the time given but grieving that she'll never get that moment of seeing her graduate, attend prom, or get married. Even now hours later the tears are still flowing and it hurts.

When I got the call early last Sunday morning, I couldn't stop to let it sink in...We were in the bridal suite and so much was taking place. My sorors took a moment to make sure I was okay, and we moved on to be there for the bride. I spent a better part of this week blocking today out of my head and avoiding having to really reflect. By the week's end, my faculty knew I wasn't myself and I only took time to share with one of the teachers what was going on, but it still wasn't sticking at that point.

Peace will come but I pray she knew the impact she made in my life and those that worked with her. Her spirit was sweet and she was always quiet. She watched, observed, and got it. She understood that life was bigger than the issues her classmates made into drama.

I never thought I'd encounter as many deaths as I have since I became an educator. There's been Amanda, Keegan, LaTrell, and now Marissa...I thank God for the time He entrusted me with these students. I pray that because of that time lives were changed and made a little better. I see each little face with a smile and remember special moments and times spent together, laughter shared, and pieces of our lives given.

Marissa, like your mother, I look forward to the day when we are together again, never to part...

Have you ever considered suicide as the only way?
Have you ever tried to hide yourself behind the things you say?
Have you ever wanted to protect your friends and everyone in sight?
Have you ever felt such pain that you cried yourself to sleep at night?
Have you ever lived my life? Spent one minute in my shoes?
If you haven't, then tell me why you judge me life you do.

Written by Marissa Canady, RIP

Solitude

The school year is now well into the transitional phase and we've already arrived at interim. The honeymoon period has come to a close and the referrals and discipline now need addressing. With the slightest blink, twenty more emails pop up. As I make one appointment, there are at least three other parents requesting the same attention and needs. And, with every kind, supportive parent, there is the one who is irate and feels they know what it best for their child. My expertise is challenged, questioned, stampeded upon, or underminded. Teachers want a moment to vent and be heard. The chocolate drawer needs more chocolate. Blinds are provided on my office windows to provide privacy, but it is seen as one more way to separate and hide from everyone. And it's only 8:45 AM...I haven't even addressed my personal life...

My personal life. You keep me from home at all hours. When I am at your place, I feel guilty that those passing see my car parked early in the morning or late at night. Truth be told people have commented and realize the time spent and hours given. YOU engulf my time. Who has time to plan a class reunion, tend to the tasks a maid-of-honor should tend to, or give time to a brother in Iraq, nephew here without his dad, etc. etc??? Oddly, I'm willing to sit and fight with your many visitors. I compromise myself for reasons beyond my comprehension, but before I go any further I should really explain. YOU are my work. About two years ago a mentor looked me in the eye and explained that the type of work we do could best be compared to a dirty love affair: She was married to her husband and her work. Some years prior to this conversation, another mentor told me that to come into education I would have to learn to balance my work and personal lives...On most days I know I've failed this small piece of advice.

Solitude. I come home late and know there is so much to tend to and do. My reality is the hours are ticking and in a short amount of time I'll be awake and back at work for at least 10 hours--usually 12. I come in and I don't want to blog. I don't want to talk to anyone on the phone. I don't feel like going out with just anyone. I fight sleep in order to accomplish more school work or tasks around the home...Tonight I sat and talked with God. As I read my devotional, I had to rejoice for the timely message of solitude. The quiet moments I get to myself are so precious and needed. I sit in my silence and reflect, cry, pray, read, BE...It's in such moments that my strength and energy are renewed. I have a chance to refresh myself to make it through the next day of busy assignments. Solitude gives me the opportunity to smile, endure, and handle the many fires that come to my office door on the regular.

I won't always have these moments of solitude. And so on tonight I pause for a moment to bask in it, love it, and remember why it's so needed.