You Didn't Love Her

Grey's Anatomy is one of my favorite shows. It is the one show that I have watched from the beginning and I rarely miss an episode. I love the love stories, the drama, the medical aspect, the characters. I laugh when they laugh and cry when they cry. And often, there are some very profound, and very poignant moments on the show. Oftentimes, there are quotes that I search for after the show is over, hoping to ponder their meanings. I write them out and think of how I can apply the quote to something in my own life, and oftentimes I am successful. 

One episode in 2007 caught my attention. I remember it vividly. It was October 2007. It was stormy that night and Brian was volunteering at the fire station for the night. I tucked my five-month-old Amelia into bed and turned on Grey's. One of the cases in this episode was the storyline of a woman who was a runner and losing weight to please her boyfriend. (Weight is a touchy subject for me so this could be another reason this episode stuck with me.) She was very sick and needed surgery but she didn't survive the surgery because her body was too weak from her extreme weight loss. Callie, one of the doctors, yelled at the woman's boyfriend, basically blaming him for her death and his push for her to be perfect for him. I remember listening to Callie's words and thinking, "Wow! That is so harsh! I'm lucky to have someone like Brian who loves me for me." I watched the rest of the episode and tucked myself into bed after it was over. 

Fast forward exactly three years to the day, to when our lives began to unravel. Brian died and things came up and I remember sitting on the couch sobbing through the night. In the back of my head, I kept flashing through several things. Panic at what I was going to do. Sadness thinking about Brian being gone and the loss of life as I knew it. And then, this quote from Callie. At the time, I thought her quote was appalling. How could she? How could she use those words against anyone? But they started to ring true for me.

Throughout my journey that has brought me to where I stand in this moment, this quote has come around more than once as I work through the grief process. Sometimes, I read it and immediately dismiss it as not true. Other times, I feel like someone could have spoken these words to Brian on my behalf. What are these words?

My process has brought me to a place where my life is amazing. I love where I am at in my journey and most days find myself grateful to be where I'm at. Today, for example, was great! Seahawks Training camp with my bestie and my girlies. Got to chat, if even for a brief moment, and get hugs from my other bestie. Texted with my sissy who should be home again soon. Had an end-of-day chat with my mama. Played with our chickens with the girls. Life today was good. But, even today, throughout the goodness of today, there was the constant undercurrent of what today was. August 5th. Today would have been our 9th anniversary. He's now been gone more years than we were married. And the Callie quote from Grey's came around one more time. 

Do I believe that he didn't love me? Do I believe that he simply married me so he wouldn't be alone? I don't know. Honestly, I don't know if I really, truly think that, or if that's what I have told myself to help myself survive the pain of him opting out of our marriage and out of our lives. But that last sentence. The last part of that quote is the most important to me: "...you don't destroy people you love." That right there is the part that I struggle with in terms of that quote. You don't destroy people you love. 

The good news in all of this? He didn't destroy me! He knocked me down for a while. And thinking of him, especially on days like August 5th, might take my breath away for a second, but he did not destroy me. I am stronger than ever. My girls are stronger than ever. We are a happy family of three. We have amazing family, the best of friends, a wonderful support system...he may or may not have loved me. I honestly don't care one way or the other. I love my girls. I love our life. And although I will always have the undercurrent of soul memories like August 5th, he did not destroy me. We are survivors, and we will continue to carry on, for our love for our friends and family is strong. And we work hard every day to build up those that we love. 

So, reflect on your relationships for a minute. Think about anniversaries and your partners, family and friends. Even think about strangers on the street. God's greatest command is to love one another. Think about your words and actions. Think about how you treat others in your life. And always remember...you don't destroy people that you love.  

Thank You for Sharing Him...

Dear Sherri, Miranda, and Rachel,

I am so honored that you asked me to write a remembrance for Tom. He meant the world to me, was like my other dad, another grandpa to my girls. My heart is broken thinking about what life is going to be like without him. When I started thinking about what I was going to write, I thought about all the avenues I could take. A poem? Nope. Tom was not really the poetry type. An essay? Nope. There is no way an essay would be able to capture the essence of what Tom meant to the people sitting in these pews today. How in the world could I ever get through this task? How could I capture Tom and what he meant to everyone here? How would I ever find words that would honor the man that so many loved and adored? Anything I could ever write would not be good enough. I worried. I stressed. I cried. I panicked. And then right when I was thinking about giving up, calling you and saying that this task was far too difficult and I just couldn't follow through, a Harley passed through the intersection at Fairgrounds and Central Valley Road, revved its engine, and flew down the road past our house. I smiled, with tears streaming down my face, closed my eyes, and pictured Tom, on his Harley, maybe flipping off the driver that had just cut him off, and zooming off into the sunset. And just like that, all the words I needed were right there in my mind. 

Hebrews 13:16 says, "And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased." As we were leaving the hospice house after saying goodbyes to a man that I loved so, and I was hugging Sherri, the words that I wanted to say to her were lost. I wanted so badly to console her. To share some great healing words, but I couldn't think of anything. I prayed for God to give me the words to help her at that very second. I squeezed her tight, held her close and whispered, "Thank you so much for sharing him with us." Because that is truly what happened. Her family shared Tom with so many people and I know I speak for everyone when we all thank the Deem girls collectively for giving us the opportunity to know and love Tom Deem. He was a loving husband, a doting father, and the best grandpa to little Edie. He was a true family man, loving and celebrating the successes of his family with each tender moment. 

After being a family man, he was a biker. Many of us will remember him, on a motorcycle of some sort, leather jacket with patches, and the biggest grin on his face. He loved riding Harleys. He loved working on and riding antique motorcycles. He loved taking rides on his motorcycles and would often call buddies, friends, and family to join him and Sherri on impromptu rides. He knew more backroads than anyone and just when you would think he had gotten you lost for good, you would come out and end up right where you needed to be.  He loved to tell of the time he went to Sturgis and there were so many bikes he needed to wait until they all cleared out so he could find his bike. Sometimes, Sherri would lose her spot on the bike to Rachel or Miranda as we rode to Pateros or Mossyrock or any of the other many adventures together. So, from all of Tom's biker friends and family, thank you for sharing him!

Tom also loved to travel, on a motorcycle or in a motorhome, in a hotel or in a tent. He loved camping and being with friends and family. Many memories of making beer at Dosewallips (and maybe drinking too much), the tents blowing away at Pateros, teasing us about rattlesnakes in the trees at Alta Lake, and tricking him by making hobo pies with a combination of everything from dinner that night. So, from all of Tom's camping friends and family, thank you for sharing him. 

Tom was a man with a gruff exterior. He burped. He farted. And he didn't care who was around to hear it. When anyone would introduce someone new to Tom, it usually came with a warning: "So, Tom likes to burp. And fart. And he might eat off your plate at dinner, but he's a really nice guy!"  Tom always carried a fork in his pocket so he could be ready to eat at a moment's notice. He would always ask "Ya got your fightin' gear?" and grin his mustached grin when we was teasing you. And he always shared that no matter how full you were, there was always room for dessert because that went to another place in your stomach. When dinner was over, he'd always encourage everyone to keep eating because whatever we didn't eat "would be in your omelet at breakfast the next morning." So, from all of the people who knew and loved the little things about Tom, thank you for sharing him. 

There are a thousand more things I could share and remember about Tom Deem. How he was such a gentleman (except for the whole burping and farting thing). How he was so kind (except for when he might have to flip someone off for being a butthead, as he might call them). How he would do anything for anyone at anytime. For all the little memories that everyone has of Tom, thank you for sharing him!

Losing Tom so quickly from our lives ripped a hole in many of our hearts. We all have the special memories and stories of Tom locked away in our hearts and in our souls. Stories and memories that will get us all through the days, weeks, and months ahead. Memories of his voice, his laugh, his basketball belly, the way he would suck on his teeth, the sparkle in his eye when he was talking about motorcycles, or Sherri, or Miranda and Rachel, or Edie. Treasure him in your hearts! Tell your stories of him to each other! Remind the Deem girls often what an amazing, wonderful man their father was. Continue to share him with each other! One day, we will be reunited! One day we will see him again! And I'm sure that he will greet us all, a smile wide across his mustached face, a leather jacket in hand, a fork in his pocket, and a hug for those he has left behind. God blessed us all when he shared Tom with us. So, to our Heavenly Father, we all say thank you for sharing him!

The Greatest of These is Love...

I am a sinner. A terrible person. I steal. I cheat. I lie. I don't always treat people the way I should treat them. I gossip. I say things I wish I could take back. I kill spiders when I find them in my house. I don't tithe the way I'm supposed to. I don't read my Bible regularly. Sometimes I forget to pray. I complain. I worry. I'm really an anxious mess sometimes. I'm not the greatest mom at times. I don't always keep promises. I am a terrible person!

I am also a Christian. So, I know that I am a horrible person and I know that I'm a sinner. And the beautiful thing? I also know that I am forgiven! I am the daughter of a King that loves me very much. God knew that I was a sinner a long time ago. Before I was even born. And He sent His one and only son Jesus to die on the cross and take away my sins. By grace I have been saved, not by my own works. This is so comforting to know. Out of all of the awful things that I have done in my life, I am still saved. I believe in my Lord Jesus Christ as my Savior. I believe that He paid the ultimate price for me on that cross. And that it is my job as a Christian to accept the glorious love of Christ, and to share the message and the promise of hope with my fellow human beings. 

It is not my job to point out other peoples' sins. It is not my job to condemn others for their choices. It is not my business to know what my friends and family do in terms of sinning. It is not my job to worry about the sins of others. All I can do is share with them the good news that they are forgiven! They are loved! And, if they choose to accept it, there is a place for them in heaven. 

We, as Christians, do a terrible job of this, in my opinion. And never has this truth been more prevalent to me than in the last couple days when the Supreme Court of the United States of America repealed the laws banning same-sex marriages. My Facebook page has been blown up with two very different camps. There are those that are celebrating with the LBGT community in their victory. And there are those that are condemning the decision and calling this as a sign that Jesus is coming back again soon. I have read comment after comment, post after post from a whole lot of people. And I am saddened by what I see. People are so mean to each other. People are saying horrible, terrible things about fellow human beings. This isn't what Jesus asked us, as Christians, to do. This isn't how I picture Jesus wanting us to behave towards each other. 

What do I believe? People want to know which side of the fence you sit in. People want to know. Are you a supporter of the decision? Do you think it's right? Do you paste your Facebook page with rainbows and celebrate equality? Or do you believe in the preservation of marriage as one man and one woman? Do you quote Bible passages and point out their sinful ways and demand them to repent!

Why do I have to be on either side of the fence? Why can't I just sit on the fence and show both sides love? Offer them my hope and prayers for the future. 

Where do I stand? I believe in marriage as the union of one man and one woman. That many times in the Bible God spoke of a woman leaving her parents and joining her husband. So what does this mean for me when I hear the Supreme Court has allowed homosexual couples to marry? Do I grab my pitchfork and torch and go after them? So I eye "them" evilly just knowing they're going to turn my friends and family gay? No. It means that I love them. And pray for them. I don't judge, as it is not my place.  I don't hate. They are not impacting me and my life. I just love them and pray for them. Why on earth would I do that? Do I have any idea how God feels about them? Yes! God loves them! God loves them so much that He already sent His son to die on the cross for their sins. All of them. And all of mine too. For we all sin and fall short of the glory of God. Thank goodness for such a loving and forgiving God! I only hope that we can be good models of Him as we Christians walk through this life, and especially this time in our society. 

Sadly, I have seen many that are not choosing this opportunity to love and witness to the masses. I happened to be around some people when they found out the ruling. The words I heard from them broke my heart. Derrogatory names. Hate and unkind words. It was so disturbing to me that I excused myself to another room and I cried. My heart broke as the scene echoed in my head. People that are strong Christians, people that worship God and are devout in their faith, were saying horrible, appalling things. And all I could think about was what if you were talking to or about Jesus?

Who did Jesus hang out with? Prostitutes. Tax collectors. Liars. Cheats. He knew that these were the people that needed Him the most! Sinners! Like all of us. Sinners! And I realize that there is a fine line I am dancing around here as I try not to judge the Christians that were judging others. The bottom line? As a Christian...as a sinner...I believe it is my calling to witness to others. Am I to walk up to a gay couple and point out their wrong doings? Proclaim to them that gay marriage is a sin and that they are signing themselves up for eternal damnation for their actions? I will not do this!  For I too am a sinner. And I believe that I serve a kind, loving Father who loves me dearly. My God forgives my lying. He forgives my cheating. He forgives me when I squash spiders. And He forgives others who sin. He forgives the homosexual who enters into marriage with another of the same sex. And He loves all of the sinners listed above. He loves them more than anything. 

Is it my job to judge? No. It is not, for I am just as guilty of atrocities as the next person. It is my job to love. And it is my job to pray. Matthew 22:36-40 states the greatest commandment of all: Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” 37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Love! It is our job to love. So I will love them. And I will pray for them. And I will know that it is not my job to judge anyone. 

Why did I have such a strong emotional reaction? One person said, "If you have that strong of a reaction to this topic, then you should probably keep quiet about it." So that was what I did. I went to another room and wept. I didn't say anything to the people that were using horrible words. But I cried because I have students I have worked with that I worry about meeting this sort of attitude. I have little boys that don't feel like little boys. And I have little girls that don't feel like little girls. They come to me sad and confused and not sure what to do. And my hearts breaks for them because I know that they will meet people like the ones that I encountered. They will struggle their whole lives with their questioning. They will walk through life feeling alone and unsupported, only to have someone, a Christian perhaps, call them a "fairy" or point out that they are sinning and are an abomination to God. And I weep for them. I weep for my children, both at work and in my home. Life is hard enough without being ripped apart and torn down by others. This issue goes so much deeper than this topic. People are just mean and rude and so intolerant. You don't have to agree with gay marriage! I don't! But I'm still going to love and respect those that do. Love one another! The greatest commandment of all! Hate the sin, but love the sinner! All sinners...liars. Cheaters. Murderers. And yes, even homosexuals. For we are all fighting battles. We are all trying desperately to navigate this world and to deal with everything that life throws at us. Atrocities and heartbreak, cancer and suicide, awful terrible things all around us. We are all fighting battles. Let's let the battles person to person be one less battle to worry about. Hate the sin, but love the sinner. I hope that someone uses this phrase when they are publicly shaming me for my sins. Because I am a sinner! I do horrible, terrible things. Everyday, I do something that goes against God's word. Every. Single. Day. And yet, I am saved! I think that my friends and family still think I'm an ok person. And I don't ask that you hear my lying and think it's ok. I wouldn't want you to condone me stealing if you knew that I was stealing. But you know what I would hope for? Rather than publicly shaming me and calling me a horrible name, I would hope that you would love me. Hold me close in your heart, love me, and pray for me. 

What an opportunity we have to witness to others, every day! We can choose to be a shining example of Christ's love and simply love others! Be kind. For we are all fighting battles...

The End of An Era

I love to watch reruns of the TV show Friends. I don't like to watch much TV so after I tuck my girls in at night, I put my DVDs in and spend my night laughing and watching these six friends and their journey through life as a close-knit group. Last night I put the disk in and pushed play. It was the one where Chandler and Monica decide to move in together and Rachel thinks they're all going to be roommates. Monica had to explain to her that she is indeed asking her to move out. Rachel and Monica both cried and shared a moment and both declared that this was the end of an era. And I cried...for Monica. For Rachel. For myself. 

You see, my school right now is experiencing the end of an era. One of our teachers, who has been with our school for 38 years, is retiring. This afternoon, we gathered together to celebrate her career, her accomplishments, her greatness. And it was glorious! Perfect! Everything that the party planners envisioned happened. The food was perfect, the fellowship was wonderful, the surprises were kept surprises until the end. It was a beautiful, wonderful tribute to a great teacher, a great person, a great friend. 

My friend. I have gone through retirements before. Several teachers, great amazing teachers, have walked through the doors of our school and into their retirement years, leaving behind a full staff of people that love and care for them. And I have shed tears at many of those retirement parties. This one was different. I didn't cry at the party. Inside my heart was beaming for my friend. Looking around the room and seeing all of the people that love her and care for her. That was the best moment ever. And I couldn't be sad! I couldn't be sad knowing that this remarkable woman had impacted so many people! Students. Parents. Staff. Family. Friends. She has altered the lives of so many! She has bettered so many people! She has had her hand in changing hearts and minds and molding people into being amazing individuals. Whether that is encouraging students to work harder to succeed or walking teachers through tough situations that make them better professionals.

I have been honored to grow ever so close with this person. I have worked with her for the past thirteen years. My whole career thus far. I was a new SLP that was introduced to this school. And I was intimidated by her. I had heard she was amazing. That she was a champion for her students. And I quickly found out how true that was. She was amazing.  She is amazing.  And I admired her from afar for a few years. And then I started talking to her. And pretty soon we were eating lunch together every day. And then I was telling her everything. Sharing with her about my life and getting to know her. I adored her! She was incredible! I quickly knew that I was going to have to pay attention to this one, for she was very wise, not only about school topics, but about life in general. She and I began to be bonded in several ways and I was so thankful. When I think about stories to share about our time together, there are many that flood into my heart and head. Our first IEP meeting together. How she saved me from a difficult student in her calm, firm miracle ways. How she tried so hard to have her daughter and I be friends and we didn't listen, but now we also share an amazingly close friendship. How she announced to the staff at a meeting after open house that I was pregnant with Amelia. And how I decided it was also appropriate for her to announce my pregnancy with Emerson. How when Amelia was born she held her and gazed into her eyes and loved her and was the best other grandma in the world. How both of my girls adore her and how she adores them right back. How I know I can go to her classroom with protocols and brainstorm testing with kids. How in meetings together she and I can lock eyes and have an entire conversation with each other without saying a word. How she rushed to my side the night that Brian died and sat up with me all night long, holding me on the couch and letting me sob, and often crying right along with me. How she walked and guided and learned and helped me over the course of our years after Brian died. How she introduced me again to her daughter and son and husband and they took my girls and me into their hearts as a part of their family. And there are a thousand more memories that I cherish in my heart forever. 

But another memory was etched into my heart tonight. One of her old students came to the party tonight. When the floor was opened up for stories and memories and words of praise for her, this student jumped right in. He praised her for making him the man he is today. He reflected on their time together in class. He hugged her and cried with her and thanked her for all she had done for him. And he turned and he thanked us, a room full of teachers he didn't know, for our service to kids. And a new memory was made. I will forever remember that moment because I want that! I want to be the kind of teacher that she is! And I already credit my friend for making me a better SLP over my 13 years. She has molded me and shaped me into being a better teacher for my students. But, I still want to be just like her when I grow up. That's the kind of teacher she is! I want to impact my students and parents and colleagues the way she has over her 38 years in this profession. I want to change kids' lives. I want parents to remember me as an advocate for my students. I want to impact colleagues in a positive way. I want to be someone who has students come back in 25 years and tell me that they are who they are today because of me!

Our jobs are so hard! And they get harder all of the time. But all that melted away today as I watched this teacher and this student interact and embrace. Our basic job, when we take away the testing and curriculum and paperwork and the things that make our jobs virtually impossible, is to raise these kids, raise these families, and raise each other. To be the best we can be and help our students be the best they can be. So one more lesson from my dear sweet friend: be there, listen, help make these kids into the adults that will come back and thank me for making them who they are.

An end of an era. At the close of the party, I got into my truck to drive home,

and made it about 100 yards down the road and sobbed. My heart is so happy tonight! Being able to give my friend the send off that she deserves makes me completely happy. But my heart is also breaking knowing that I will begin to navigate school life without my friend, without my person. That I will be on my own, much like the students that we raise and send on to better things. So, perhaps it's time for me to grow up. Step up into her shoes (as tiny as my feet are in her BIG shoes) and be the start of the next era. Because that student's speech changed my thinking and changed my heart. This is the end of an era for my friend and for our school. But what a God-given opportunity for me to change my perspective, love on my school babies, and know that maybe, just maybe, I can be the beginning of the next era. 

I love you, my friend, with all my heart. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me! I am eternally grateful that our paths have crossed. I'm grateful that you adopted me and molded me and worked with me, perhaps to prepare me for just this occasion. God blessed me with you, so that I may bless others the way you have blessed so many! I am a better person for knowing you! I am so happy for you that you will get to rest and relax! Job well done, good and faithful servant! May God bless you always and forever!

The end of an era...so a new era can begin!

I Am a Teacher

There is a lot of unrest in the schools in Washington State right now. The demands of teaching are increasing while the resources are dwindling. Every year we hear promises of things the State is going to do to make our jobs easier. And yet every year there seems to be more added to the pile that makes our jobs harder.

After many years of festering anger and frustration, the pot is starting to come to a boil. Teachers and school staff and parents are done. Fed up. We can't handle one more thing. 

There are several issues that have been brought into the discussion. Pay is one. The people of the State is Washington asked that teachers get a Cost of Living Adjustment every year. And every year we hear how there's no funding. Another issue is class size. The people of the State of Washington asked that class sizes in schools be lowered so that teachers don't have unbelievable amounts of children in their classrooms and so that they can give the children the individualized attention that so many of them need and crave. We are also fed up with Common Core and testing and the new difficulties that these assessments have brought to educators and students alike. Did you know that the state wants to tie the scores that my students receive on these standard tests to my teacher evaluation?  27% of my evaluation would be tied to how well my students perform on one high-stakes assessment.  We are also hoping that the state leaves our health insurance alone and that we have the ability within our district to choose the health plan that we want. I think those are the main points. There are probably more I am not remembering. And as teachers in the state of Washington, we are upset. 

So, we voted to strike. A one-day walkout within our district in a sea of rolling walkouts across the state to show the State Legislature that we are serious and need to be listened to. That they need to start funding education. That they need to start treating the teachers and staff and our children like investments into the future of this great state and not afterthoughts in the great juggling of the budget.

So, May 7th was our day. Our day to walkout and take action. And as I fretted and thought about the activities of the day and the time leading up to the vote even, and what was planned, I began to think. And I began to pray. And I may be putting myself out there in a negative light and may be looked down upon by my peers, but the day we sat in that gym and voted to walkout, I voted NO! Selfishly, I thought of my own children at home. I thought of how I am a widowed mom of two little girls that depend on me for their needs and wants. And I thought about the paycheck that I get, and how desperately I need that paycheck, no matter what the amount is. I have bills and a mortgage and debt that my husband left me with and I panicked. And I voted NO. Not because I don't agree that we need change of some kind because we desperately do. But because I need to be paid. I need that job. I need MY job. 

So then schedules started coming out about what we were going to do for our walkout. What activities we had planned. And I ignored them...selfishly. I had other plans. 

I had plans to take my kids to school. You see, I am a public school teacher. But my children are enrolled in private school. Why? Is it because I don't trust our teachers in CK School District? Not at all! Every year I contemplate bringing the girls to the school where I teach. But I don't. I choose to not only pay my taxes but also to pay tuition for private school. Why? Because I get to drop my girls off at a school that does not strictly follow Common Core. They don't give the kids the Smarter Balance Assessment. They don't do Standards Based Grading. They teach the kids what they want to teach them! They get to teach to their interests and passions, not to a high stakes test! Another reason? Amelia is in a second grade class with 14 students. 14! If she were in public school she would most likely be one of 25!  I would drop off my student with a teacher who was underpaid and overworked and most likely pushed to her maximum.  So, I choose to drop her off in a classroom with 14 students, where she gets individualized attention, and can grow and thrive in her environment.

I had plans to take my kids to school and pick them up from school. This was more important to me than participating in the walkout. Why? Because I am a teacher. And as a teacher, I am out of the house every morning by 7:30 a.m., when their babysitter arrives to take them to school.  Being a teacher, my girls start school around the same time I do, so I don't get to be a mom to my kids and take them to school.  And, I also do not get to be a mom and pick them up from school either, so my babysitter picks them up from school, and takes them to dance, and has relationships with the other moms in their classroom.  While I am at my school, making relationships with the parents of my students.  Do I regret my job choice?  No, I am glad that I am a speech-language pathologist and I enjoy getting to know my families.  But, when presented with a day that I might get to take my children to school and pick my children up from school, I will always choose them, over walkout activities any day.  I am a teacher, but I am also a mom.  Being a teacher makes being a mom difficult.  And for those that would jump in and say "Well, you shouldn't have had children if you can't take care of them." I say back that I didn't really have a choice.  When my husband died, our plans to have a parent at home with them changed, and now I work to make ends meet.

I also had plans to go and see my doctor on the day of the walkout.  You see, I have neglected going to the doctor for some time now.  It's cheaper if I don't go in and pay copays and deductibles.  I also don't have much sick leave accrued so it's hard for me to justify taking sick days when I have to save them "just in case."  When you have kids at home, there are a lot of "just in case" things that come up.  So, when I heard that we weren't working on the walkout day, I scheduled an appointment to see my doctor, so that it wouldn't impact my time at work.

And about making those ends meet, there have been numerous articles in the newspapers about the teacher strikes throughout the state, and one of the first comments on these articles is always a link to teacher salaries.  Being that we are state workers, our salaries are public record.  So anyone has the right to be able to look at see what I make.  But, before you go and look at those sites, I think there is something you should know.  I clicked on the site.  I looked up my salary.  Did you know that the website says that I make $77,000 per year?  Wow!  I've only been teaching for thirteen years, so that is a very impressive salary for being just a teacher.  But do you know what else that salary is for?  That salary is before taxes.  That salary includes all of my benefits.  That salary does not tell the entire story.  Like I said, I get benefits.  Did you know that some of our pay goes to paying the premiums for our benefits?  Did you know that my copay goes up every year?  Did you know my deductible goes up every year?  Did you know that our district tries hard to give us pay increases because they value us as teachers, but that those pay increases typically don't cover the increase in our benefits?  Did you know that for the last four years, my pay has gone DOWN?  Did you know that I have stopped going to regular doctor appointments for myself in an attempt to save money for myself?  Did you know that after taxes and all of the deductions from my paycheck that my take-home pay is $3000 per month?  And for those that are not great at math my take home salary for a year is around $36,000.  Which is almost exactly the amount that I have lost out on over the last six years from not getting my cost of living adjustment.  $36,000!  A whole year's worth of pay that I have lost out on because when the legistlature is looking for cuts to the budget, they deny us our voter-mandated COLA, and yet can always find the money to give themselves an 11.2% COLA, like the COLA they are getting this year.

But, what about being paid all summer?  I don't even work all summer!  I'm getting paid for the months that I have off!  That is correct.  I am.  They take my salary and thankfully divide it over twelve months so that I don't have to go all summer without getting paid.

And seriously, you only teach from 8:20-2:35.  That's not a full day.  You're right!  It's not.  But I get to school around 8:00.  And I typically leave work around 5:00 on a good day.  And then I take work home with me.  Often, I try hard to be a mom when I get home so we do the regular dinner, bath, bed routine and then I'm up sometimes two, three, four hours working on reports, or IEPs, or evaluations, or planning for therapy for the week.  But I only get paid for 7.5 hours a day.  I don't get overtime.  Or comp pay.  So the four hours sitting at home on my computer is my donation to my job, because I love the kids that I work with, and I love being a professional for my bosses so I always make sure that my paperwork is completed.

And don't even get me started on Common Core.  The concepts of common core in itself are not bad.  Having a common teaching tool to work with across the nation is a fantastic idea.  Knowing that the Navy babies that I work with can leave Washington State and move across the nation and see the same standards is fabulous.  But, did you know they ruined these concepts by restricting teachers' freedoms to teach what they want?  They added in Standards Based Assessments (SBAs) in order to determine if students were learning the Common Core Standards.  This assessment is so hard, and so time consuming that many teachers can't pass it, let alone the students that we work with.  We have practice SBAs, and pre-SBAs, and run-through SBAs, and we are testing and testing and testing until we can't test our kids anymore.  And they are stressed.  And teachers are stressed.  And the good teaching that has happened in our schools for years and years is out the window because they are so uptight that they are not hitting all of the teaching points of the assessment, that they forget that they are amazing teachers.  

And now, 27% (I believe) of our teacher evaluations are going to be tied to the SBAs and how our students perform on this assessment.  And for me, who doesn't have a classroom that I teach out of?  My evaluations appears to be based off of  a building average of how our students do.  So, my teacher evaluation will be based off of how well my colleagues prepare their students for the SBA.  How is that fair?  And just as a sampling, we have been working on various grade levels of SBAs for some time now, since at least the beginning of April.  And what stories are coming out of the SBAs?  There are stories of how whole classes have persevered and done their very best on the assessments.  There are stories of kids who are in tears because they are so stressed about taking this test.  I work in special education.  My students have a whole range of learning and behavioral and sensory and communication deficits.  There's the story from one of my students how he couldn't answer his writing question because it asked him to play out a social scenario.  He has Aspergers and didn't know how to answer the questions.  There was the student who was so stressed by the question he was given that he clicked on the "end test" button and it finished his test and he could no longer continue with the assessment.  All because he was angry and the teacher couldn't help him or she might "breach assessment security."  There was the student who got into a fight with his brother on the playground the morning that he took the assessment and he also his the "end test" button and his test was locked out.  There was the student who finished his reading assessment in 14 minutes because he randomly clicked answers on the test and didn't read any part of it.  But guess what?  My ability to continue teaching in this district, and the ability of my peers and colleagues may be impacted by these test scores, because they want to tie these test results to my evaluation.  Is that fair?  I don't think so.

So, I did not participate in the walkout last week.  And I will admit that since that time I have thought and prayed a lot about it and I am ashamed that I did not.  I am hurt and angry just like my fellow teachers, but I took the coward's way out and did not participate.  I dropped my kids off that morning at school.  I went to the doctor.  I picked my kids up from school.  And I did not participate with my colleagues.  And I am sorry to them if I did not show support to them in their time of need.  But, I can tell you that I will be there for the next one, because I worry that there will be a next one.  The state legislature needs to listen to us!  We are losing a battle in the field of education.  We are losing children to testing, but we are also losing teachers.  Good teachers!  Excellent teachers, who can no longer handle the stress of the job.  Teachers who cannot passively sit back anymore and watch as our education system crumbles.  No Child Left Behind is slowly turning into every child left behind, and their teachers being left behind too!

Many people will read this and be upset or angry, on both sides of the fence.  Many of my colleagues will be disappointed in my decisions that day.  Many people in the public will think that I am whining and that I am spoiled for wanting these things to happen.  And, it is not about the pay for me.  It is about the health and well-being of my students, of my peers, and of the educational system in this great State of Washington!


I am a teacher.  I did not get into this profession for the pay.  I did not get into this profession for the glitz and glamour.  I did not get into the profession for glory or honor.  I got into this profession to help my students, to teach the kids that are entrusted to me to the best of my abilities, and to carry my students from the point they come to me to being successful in their next point of life.  I am a teacher, and I am proud to be a teacher, and I will always be a teacher no matter what my pay is, or what my benefits are, or how much money I lose every year.  Unless my evaluation says that I didn't have enough kids pass the SBA in my school.  Or unless parents get so fed up with this system that they homeschool their children.  I am thrilled and honored that God has chosen me to be called to work in the capacity that I work, but I am quickly seeing that His plan for me may change, and my heart breaks for my students who do not get to opt out of this education system.  It is broken, and it is time for change, and I will fight for my students to get what they need to be successful, even if it means someone else picking my own kids up at school those days.

It takes a village...and that village is rallying around it's children!  It is time!  And I hope you'll join us in educating the public and getting the word out about the misconceptions in education.  Teachers are not greedy.  We are not lazy.  We are not just in this for the pay. We are kind, caring, compassionate, and passionate about our jobs.  And we are looking for change for our students!  It's time!

Welcome to the Club

There's an unspoken club within the walls of Hawk Elementary School. There isn't a secret handshake. There are no formal meetings. There isn't a clubhouse. There are no dues. And it's a club that no one wants to be a member of, and the current members forever pray that no one else joins our club. It's a club of grieving people. People who have lost loved ones over the years. And the number keeps growing. 

It started with me, I suppose. Brian died in October of 2010. I remember Tess, our principal calling a "stand up meeting" as she calls them to let the staff know. I was thankful to be elsewhere and not present at the meeting. The support from the people in my building and in the speech department was amazing. I was and am truly blessed to have them in my life. And life goes on. 

But then, the next one to join the club...Katy miscarried her twin babies. Our hearts as a staff were broken again. Another stand up meeting. Another round of meals. Another staff member going through so much pain and heartache. 

Wendy lost her husband almost two years ago. I remember walking into school that day, and my assistant standing in my office with such a sad look on her face. When I asked her what was wrong and she told me what happened, I had to sit down. It was like someone grabbing the scab over the wound on my heart and ripping it right back open. I sobbed. For Wendy. For her husband. For her loss. Another unwelcome member...

A new building and a new start was exactly what we all thought we needed. Our brand new building would start new and fresh and we would all be ok! Free from gathering any new members. We hadn't even moved in yet when we got the email from Tess that sweet Liza had lost her teenaged boy Jackson. No stand up meeting since it was over the summer. But sign ups to make meals. Sending love and prayers. I didn't know Liza very well, but I made her family shredded chicken and took her dinner. I sobbed to whole time I was making her dinner. Like ugly cry sobbed for three hours solid. Another unwelcome member into the most horrifying club ever. School started back up in the fall and life carried on, with oh so heavy hearts. I couldn't even look at Liza without wanting to sob. So I sent her love and hugs and prayers through email, until the day she got brave and stopped me in the hallway and we hugged. I have loved getting to know Liza. And although our grief is oh so different, it's not so different all at the same time. 

We marched through the fall, and celebrated a staff member with a new baby on the way. And then...another email. Our friend and colleague Jennifer has lost her precious baby. And we cried. And I made pulled pork sandwiches and delivered them to her and sobbed into her arms as we held each other and loved each other and welcomed another unwelcome member into the club. 

And then it seemed things were ok. We marched on, hiding our grief in front of our kiddos, leaning on the individual coworkers we all run to, sending a knowing glance as we pass in the hall, sharing gentle smiles and quick cries and bonding together as unwanted members in our awful club. 

Then, cancer took Joni's husband too soon. Another email. And I just couldn't make anymore casseroles or crock pot dishes. I just couldn't. I hated that! I know people feel like they want to help but I hated people bringing me food. I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to see people. I didn't want to have to smile and try not to cry and be thankful. And when it came time for Joni I was relieved that the food chart filled up quickly. Because I just couldn't. Another member in our group. My heart was broken. 

This past weekend, Tess sent an email. Calling for another "stand up meeting" on Monday morning. My heart was sick. I texted a few coworkers and found out what happened. Another coworker lost her husband. My first thoughts were with Joni and Wendy. I remember walking into the school when Wendy lost her husband. I knew how hard that hits and how sad it is. And then my thoughts turned to our other members. Because grief and loss, no matter how different, is still grief and loss. It rips all those wounds open, no matter how long ago it has been. And I wept. For all of them. For all of us. Another name on the roster of the worst club ever. 

  

We went to school Monday morning. I got there just in time for the stand up meeting. Walking up the stairs I met Wendy, who had already found out and was crying. I took her hand and took a deep breath and walked into the library. Tess made the announcement and told us we could stick around for a prayer if we wanted to. After a few left the rest of us got up and formed a circle. I tried to avoid eye contact around the circle but I slowly started to look. Liza. Jennifer. Katy. Wendy. And then I stopped because it was tears. One of our teachers said a prayer. I hugged Wendy. And I went to duty on the playground and tried to push it out of my head. 

When duty was over, I had this feeling I needed to check on Wendy. As I was walking back to Wendy's classroom, Katy was coming out of her classroom. Jennifer and Wendy were coming down the stairs together. Liza was coming out of her classroom. We all stopped for a second and looked at each other. I smiled and said, "How did we all find each other?" Then we shared a lot of tears, and quick and quiet words, and hugs. And then did what we needed to to greet our kids at the door. That moment though...the moment when we all just happened to be there, in that moment, was so important and so powerful to me. An unwelcome club. But an amazing group of strong, supportive women. Women who have been through hell and back. Who have experienced different losses, but losses just the same. 

When Brian died, I went to work the next day. I needed to be there. I needed my friends and I needed my coworkers and I needed my kids. Thinking back, I am so thankful to the people that have supported me and carried me through and been there for me. I never would have been able to make it without Melody and Kim and Tess and so many others that helped me out in those days.  And now I wouldn't make it without the addition of Liza and Wendy and Jennifer and the other members of this club. For they know. They understand. They can see my face and know about the weariness and exhaustion and pain and depression and sadness. And I see it with them too. 

It's a club that I never wanted to be a member of. And it's a club that I say is full and no more members are allowed. But, if it happens that we need to make space, we will. Because there is no other place I would want to be if I need support than within the walls of Hawk Elementary. We are a sad school. But more than that? We are a school full of strength and love and support. Beautiful, strong, grieving women who cling to each other and hold our breath everytime there's a stand up meeting. 

Here's to no more of those meetings!

What Becomes of the Broken Hearted

Tears welled up in her little eyes. She told me it was the worst day ever. She got into a fight with one of her friends at pre-kindergarten. Her best friend. I laid on the ground next to her and held her and asked her how I could help. She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered "Mommy, I'm sad we won't be friends anymore. Please fix my broken heart." Tears then welled in my eyes. You never like to see your kids suffering. And as a mommy you want to do your best to fix their brokenness, especially if it's their heart. 

But then I paused and thought of the Ash Wednesday sermon that my pastor gave at our church. All about broken hearts. I remember listening intently after seeing the sermon topic. For, although I have come a long way in the last few years, my heart is still broken...still being mended as time passes. He spoke about wanting to fix things. He spoke about how people are always looking for the fix. We are always trying to fix things on our own. But that we need to go to God with our brokenness. That He wants to be the fixer. He wants to be he one to make it all better, just like a mommy fixing something for our children. God is the Father, wanting to fix our brokenness and take away our pain and suffering. 

I am the first to admit that I am terrible at this. I fret and worry and feel and hurt and all of those things on my own. I try and figure out how I'm going to fix things. I am constantly striving for the solution and how I am going to make everything better. And not only do I do it for myself, but I also tend to want to do it for everyone else also. I get very anxious when I cannot fix my own problems, but I also get anxious when I can't fix everyone else's problems too. When really, all I need to do is turn it over to God to fix it and make it all better. He is the one that is omniscient and omnipotent and can take care of everything. And yet, I struggle through on my own and get scared and mad and frustrated when I can't find the solution on my own. Or I can't mend my broken heart. 

Our pastor used the analogy of us fixing our own brokenness to be the same as giving your spouse a gift of a broken vase that you glued the pieces together yourself. God doesn't want that as a gift! He doesn't want a half-heartedly repaired heart bound together with tape and twine. He wants the broken pieces. He wants to see the sharp edges and the teeny broken bits and the cracks. He wants to be the one to sweep up the pieces and make you whole again. In His love and in His light. 

I am guilty of not letting this happen. I have a lot of shame for the things that have happened. I am ashamed that I am not strong enough to hold all of my pieces together. I pick up the shards and push them together and hold still and pray they don't crumble. And the temporary fix that I am capable of looks good to others. I smile and say I'm fine and press forward. I hide my tiredness behind makeup. I shove my fears to the side. I weep quickly and quietly and hide my tears. And soon something happens and I crack. The tape pulls away, the pieces crumble under the pressure and I am a broken mess once again. Because I tried to make it better for myself. That just doesn't work. 

As I sat in the pew on Ash Wednesday, did I listen? Absolutely! I was enthralled with the message that was given that night. There was a moment where everything stood still and it was the voice of God speaking directly to my heart. Listen, my child! This message is for you and only you! I try to hard to fix everything when really I should be falling at the feet of God, crying out to Jesus to fix my brokenness, begging Him to cradle me safely in His arms and fix me! Heal my wounds. Take away my pain! Wipe away my tears! Have I followed through? Nope! I still try to do everything on my own. I still think that I can fix everything. That I can right this sinking ship on my own. 

But I can't. And that is true even as I listen to Emerson ask me to fix her broken heart. I held her close that night and told her I could not fix her broken heart. That I could hold her and love her and pray with her. Pray to God for Him to heal her broken heart. Give it to God. Lay it at His feet and ask Him to make you whole again. So, she and I prayed. I prayed for little hearts to be healed and fixed by the goodness of God. And I prayed for big hearts to be healed and fixed by the goodness of God. 

So, to everyone who is broken. Or suffering. Or going through hard times. Don't fix your brokenness! Give it to God! Give Him all of your broken pieces to heal and mend and put together in the way only He knows how! He is the Master, the Creator, our Father. He knows where all if the pieces go, and exactly how they for together. So there no better one to fix us!

Prayers for healing and love and light to many! There are so many that I want to fix right now...but I will lay it at God's feet and have faith that he will fix all the broken pieces.