SOLSC '23 Day 31: Cathartic platform

 Congratulations to all my fellow Slice of Life Story Challenge writers who made it to the finish line!  How amazing is it that we showed up to write and share for an entire month!

I write in the morning before work, so I didn't have time to read over all my posts for a true metacognitive final submission, but I did read over all the titles.  What I found was 

a mishmash of 

personal and 

professional topics 

some deep 

some light 

some memories and

some hopes.

Some prose.

Some poetry.

An allegory.

A writing block

(only one this year!).

Frustrations and

celebrations,

politics and

whimsy.

Here's to finishing my eleventh year of Slicing, with gratitude and awe for all the wonderful educator-writers and their submissions this month.  Thank you for sharing your talents with this writing community!

SOLSC '23 Day 30: A simple thank you

 

I quit teaching after my first six years.  I was burned out; what had started as an ideal situation teaching small groups in a resource setting with two other special education teachers had evolved into a department of one--me--taking on the entire school's caseload by year five.  They hired another partner teacher in year six, but it was too late; we were both exhausted by the end of that year, and left the district.  I was pregnant with my first child, and felt like I couldn't be a good parent and a good teacher with that kind of work stress.

I tutored for a couple of years, then ended up working in the NICU where my daughter had spent her first sixty-five days.  My father berated me a bit for taking a job outside my college-degree scope.  My answer?  Not only was it lovely to work in a job I couldn't take home with me and with set hours, but I received more thank-yous from the nurses and parents in the first six weeks than I had in six years of teaching--and I was basically an errand runner, stocker, and cleaner.  I felt seen and appreciated, and that let me know that my efforts contributed to the operating system of the unit.

Fast forward...after eighteen years back in the education biz, I landed on a campus where kudos are built into the culture via a weekly call to recognize colleagues for the principal newsletter.  After a really long workweek running the book fair, a colleague wrote a really nice email praising my efforts and sent it to the staff.  I was still physically exhausted that weekend, but my mood was considerably lightened, and made me feel like I made a positive impact.

When the attacks on educators flared up again these past few years, we were encouraged to "toot our own horns" to make the work we do visible to the public.  But that is one more thing to add to an already loaded plate that most educators carry.  Our advertising may decrease some of the negativity outside of schools.  But in the midst of talented teachers leaving the profession, something tells me that if folks (especially politicians) just stopped, asked about, and noticed what we do every day to support children's academic, social, and emotional growth--and then said "thank you"--we might just have a few more of those teachers signing on for another year.

SOLSC '23 Day 29: The scapegoat

 

My professionalism and training are being questioned in the Texas legislature this session.

There is a bill proposing that the acquisitions for school library collections be monitored by a "library advisory council", made up mostly of district parents.  Our book purchases would have to be approved by this council.  School employees can be on the council, but they would not have a vote in any decisions.

There are so many issues with this proposed legislation that I hardly know where to start.

• Parents have always had the right to monitor and direct their own children's reading--but that right does not extend to other people's children.
• I highly doubt that marginalized groups would be fairly represented on these councils--and they are the ones most often represented in books that are being banned.
• School librarians in Texas are educators, first and foremost--the welfare of children and the promotion of literacy are at the heart of what we do.  To suggest otherwise is offensive and demeaning.
• I have a master's degree which includes the study of children's literature.  I keep up with what's current in publication, as well as what the needs are for my campus.  I highly doubt that a council of parents, most of whom I will assume have jobs on top of the demands of parenting, will also take on the task of examining the demographics of each campus, including diversity details (especially LGBTQ), reading book reviews and author interviews.
• Either the authors of this bill intentionally want to narrow the books that become part of our collection (my suspicion, for sure), or they truly are clueless about the number of books we intentionally add to our shelves each year--books chosen because of their award-winning status, statewide reading programs, curricular needs, popularity with students (we do want them reading, right?), and most of all--representation.
• Representation--I hate to break it to these politicians, but we have LGBTQ students in our state.  We have students dealing with depression, poverty, gun violence (ahem), homelessness, racism, learning difficulties, suicidal ideation, immigration and assimilation.  Reading about others, even fictional characters, who are dealing with the same situations--and making their way through those situations--can be affirming and helpful.  Pulling books that contain these subjects will not make those situations go away.

I could keep going, but I have to get ready for work.  You know, the job I was highly trained for, that I've been doing for a decade--supporting teachers and lifting kids (and our society) up through books of windows, mirrors, and sliding glass doors.

SOLSC '23 Day 28: It's me

 

It's a case of the right book at the right time.

I'm reading Atomic Habits by James Clear.  It's been sitting on my TBR pile since December 2019.  There have been several attempts at starting and restarting this book, but it wasn't until I made it my morning reading this month (habit!) that I've made any headway on it.  One chapter each day, steady as she goes.  This time, I'll finish it.

The farther along I get, the more Taylor Swift's words start to accompany my reading:

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero*

As a teacher, I'm really good at constantly reinforcing routines and habits.  Please walk in a line to make room for others in the hallway.  Inside voices, so you can hear instructions.  Please use your shelf markers to keep books in their homes until they go on vacation with you.

I'm not saying that I don't have good habits--I do.  I wake up early on workdays to center my introverted self in quiet before I act extraverted all day for my job.  I add collagen to my coffee, take my vitamins most days, empty the dishwasher while my coffee is brewing, change the sheets on a regular basis.  I even plan my work outfits for the week on Sundays--one less decision to make each day.

But the stuff that really, really matters?  Like moving my body to keep it healthy, eating lots of veggies and fruit, saving more money that I'll need to retire instead of spending it on things I want now?  Decluttering things I don't need, instead of adding even more stuff?

It's me...hi...I'm the problem.  Or at least, the bad habits I've chosen to meet my primal needs to reduce anxiety and fit in are the problem, according to Clear.  

Looks like what I need is more good habits.  Maybe then, I won't be so exhausted by my furtive avoidance of the mirror.  Maybe if I use my teacher voice in my self-talk...Please delete that retail email and read a fun book from your TBR pile.  Go for a walk then eat an apple--you'll feel better.  Listen to some fun music and clean the house.  Get off the screen, and call a friend or crochet instead.  Go to bed earlier so you aren't so tired in the morning.  I can be the solution, instead of the problem--imagine that.

*Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Jack Michael Antonoff / Taylor Alison Swift
Anti-Hero lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

SOLSC '23 Day 27: Coffee evolution

 

First memories of

cold half-cups

light-brown, sweet,

left by my father

off to work before 

I got up for school.

I don't know why my

mother let me drink it, 

but she did.

Then, the plastic

demitasse cups, brown

with a paper lid, 

wooden spoon attached

cold coffee ice cream

eaten poolside on the

Armed Forces base

in Naples, Italy

still my favorite flavor.

Instant coffee in 

the dorm room, made with

water heated in an

electric coffee pot

Sweet-n-Low and

powdered creamer

powered me through

loaded schedules and 

late-night cramming.

Coffee from the

teachers' lounge

bitter, made better with

International Delight

paired with the yeasty rolls

the cafeteria ladies would

sell for a quarter.

Mr Coffee on my counter

a full pot shared with my

husband, before we

head off to work in different 

directions.

Decaf coffee, for six months of

pregnancy, and

two months of pumping,

a few months of nursing.

Coffee from the nurses' lounge

powering me through

twelve-hour weekend shifts

cleaning isolettes and

manning the front desk.

Decaf coffee once again

in deference to child 

number two

returning to full caffeine

when a week of sleepless

nights turned into months

years, six of them

before we all learned to sleep.

Coffee carried in thermal

travel containers

that took almost half

of the Mr Coffee carafe.

And now...

coffee from a little mini-pot

because I wake up two hours

before my husband

and he prefers his fresh

I add collagen, stevia,

a splash of sugar-free Torani

and enough half-and-half to

make my cup as light

as those first cups of

my father's coffee.

SOLSC '23 Day 26: Six degrees of connection

 

My daughter called me last Thursday evening, just to chat.  (How lucky am I to have adult children who want to do that!)  We both had busy work weeks with long hours, and it was nice to commiserate a bit.  As usual, our conversation meandered, and I mentioned that because of her, we were five degrees of separation from the famous Austin barbecue chef, Aaron Franklin.

"Oh, because of Tatsu, right?" she said.  "Yup," I replied.

My daughter (1) has a friend from middle school (2) whose sister (3) dated Tatsu, a well-known Austin fusion chef (4), who has collaborated with Franklin (5) and appeared in the PBS series with him.

I surprised her when I said that she was two degrees from Nicole Kidman--I saw the actress across the room in Harrods of London when I was visiting my brother, stationed in England at the time.

Have you ever played the six degrees of separation game?  It's based on the eponymous play by John Guare, and became part of pop culture with the creation of the Kevin Bacon version (you can watch the actor himself explain the game in the video link).  Guare's premise is that we're all within six degrees of separation from everyone on the planet, in one way or another.   

The pandemic lockdown really weakened relationships we have with each other, within families, classrooms, even the loose acquaintances we have in public.   Maybe it's time to bring back the popularity of the six degrees game.  It may have "separation" in the title, but it's really all about connections.

Author's note:  I hope you don't mind the links.  I don't know who will be reading this, and I thought you might like the background info on the people, the play, and the game.

SOLSC '23 Day 25: Where I'm from

 

I attended a SoulCollage session this morning.  After creating our Spring-themed cards, we were invited to write a poem using a template fashioned after George Ella Lyon’s poem, Where I’m From.  My card, pictured at the end, meant one thing to me before I wrote the poem, and then carried a different meaning after writing.  My poem, first:

I am from busy hands

From Harlequin romances and Salem cigarettes

I am from the third culture,

peripatetic, surreal, overwhelming

I am from tomatoes

homegrown in a temporary garden

I'm from Sunday dinners and sightseeing

From Anns and Jims and Edwards and Williams 

and a Pearl

I'm from the tight-lipped, and

arguments behind closed bedroom doors

From Santa and the Tooth Fairy

I'm from rituals, incense, holy water and rosaries

I'm a Parisian from Ireland and Hungary

mashed potatoes and pierogies

From the bottle blonde and blue eyeshadow

The cat-eye glasses and stashed fabric and yarn

Memories filed in cabinets and frames, news clippings and

stories told at funerals and weddings

I am from the nurturers of life.

Card by Christine Margocs, 3/25/23

When I made the card, I read it as the springtime demands of mothers and educators against the background of rebirth and blooming.  After writing the poem, I could see the people who nurtured our family tree through the generations.

You can find out more about SoulCollage, and find a facilitator near you, at https://soulcollage.com/ .