Time Capsule: Last Year's Unpublished Post from the Holiday Season

As is likely the case with most people who like to share their ideas through blogging, I often begin to write a post only to have it sit in my draft list. Last year I began a post that was never finished. Fear that it would not be understood prevented it's publication. The sentiment is eerie in its innocence and somewhat prophetic in its warnings. The italicized sentiment you are invited to read contains the un-edited words of the woman who existed at this keyboard just a year ago. The odd ordinary words carry a message of a simpler time when the news carried stories other than those regarding a worldwide pandemic. Before I send you on your way back to December 2019, you need to know this about me. This time of year as my children enjoy cranking up the holiday songs because they find joy in the familiarity and sentiment, I find sadness and a sense of emptiness. Not a sadness that I own personally but an emptiness that feels large enough to encompass all the world's sorrow. Sound crazy? Perhaps it is. So much so that I have never successfully put words to it. The words below were an attempt to wrap my head around this feeling. 

December 2019: 

With Thanksgiving over and the Holiday Season upon us, just try to get through the day without mention of gifts and wants and ways to make others "know how much you care"...all the talk is of "stuff".  How much you need, how much they want... how much, much much.  Equally numerous are the ways in which folks attempt to denounce what has become of this time of year: the misplaced attempt to make happiness happen. Can I take all of this one step further? I posit that the solution to the mayhem that has become the Holiday Season lies in our everyday life. The direction of this season is not determined and crafted in just this one month, but in the eleven that precede it as well. The feeling I get this time of year is magnified yes, but it is not new or unfelt throughout the year. 

Here's what I mean. 

We have lost a sense of gratitude for the simple daily life happenings. We have taken for granted all that we have and forgotten that there are those who have not. We need to start to recognize what is in front of us lest we require a wake-up call of epic proportions. I want to try to help you understand the pit in my stomach and what I feel:

It's the same feeling I get when eating at an establishment that hosts televisions depicting the current state or our world, perhaps a war-torn country or the most recent murder, while I nosh on my burger and consider whether or not to dip the next french-fry into ketchup. It seems to me we take for granted our luxury of circumstance. We are able to witness the destruction sustained by others without so much as a second glance...after all, the news is saturated with misery and we've perhaps seen this footage so many times that we have the indulgence of calling it redundant. Wow! 

We have become a culture that is flippant about the important and hyper-discerning about the frivolous. We watch the news with our bowl of popcorn as though the tragedy of others is nothing more than a movie reel, while we take time and focus to decide which of the plethora of winter coats or fancy boots we should choose, mostly based on style and appearance instead of necessity. There is something terribly awry with the way in which we are using our minds and hearts, and I believe we need to regain our focus on our humanity. We need to think before we act, consider our nonchalance in taking in the news of our world and strive to become more centered on how to best nurture the hearts of people toward love for all. In a simple statement, we need to reconnect with our connection. But how?

So that is where my work on that post ended. One thing I wonder is if we need to be grateful this year for the pause, the chance to collect our thoughts and the opportunity to view humanity with eyes that can see beyond our wants. I heard a newscast that said as a vaccine is made available, it would not necessarily be considered for our earthbound counterparts in third world countries. Really? Is it possible that we still don't see it?  If I have not made sense of this to you, if it is still not evident, then perhaps we have a longer way to go than anticipated. In the end, regardless, I am grateful and filling my heart with the world and all the pain it holds. It is there and then, when each of our hearts connects with the pain and suffering of the world, that a true love for humanity can be born.

Have an Awesome Day Anyway

It's Sunday evening...the eve of another week of remote learning for my five children and remote teaching for me. While I should be spending this time perfecting my lesson plans, I feel compelled to get a message to you. Yes...this time is tough. Yes...we miss how life used to be. Yes...we are tired and overdrawn, and unable to see an end in sight. And finally, yes...when we wake up to this reality again tomorrow, it is possible to Have an Awesome Day Anyway!

As far as anxiety and stress are concerned, if it is a sudden onslaught of either or both, my response is not generally that of most...I meet spontaneous stress, such as witnessing a car accident or coming upon a hallway teenage confrontation, with peace and calm. Those who know me have come to realize that my peaceful nature does not always accurately convey the urgency that might be necessary, but that is just how I respond. My response is spot-on, unequivocally,  full of Donna-ness. (This, by the way, I know drives some people crazy!)

But what about the anxiety and stress that accompanies ongoing disillusionment or consistent-under-the-radar abuse to the system? This type of stress can easily go undetected until my body eventually begins to respond with the desire to sleep more, work less and exude a shortness of happiness that belies my innately optimistic personality. Given a long enough trip down the path of low-level stress, or in our present case, high-level stress that has become the daily norm so as to be disguised as low-level stress, and I neglect to take proper care of my well-being. Think 15 to 20-year-marriage-that-went-south-before-its-first-anniversary, kind of stress. It just silently ferments and eats away at the heart, suffocates the drive and deteriorates the self, until suddenly the victim realizes that they have been reduced...in some undetected and undefined way. The victim has become a survivor.

My friends, that is where we are. We are in the midst of an anxiety ridden timeframe. There is no current escape. This is not immediately fixable by you, or me, or anyone. It just is...low-level, high-level, constant-eat-away-at-the-soul, stress and anxiety. But here's the thing. We cannot wait any longer in hopes that it relents. We have to live! We have to have an awesome day! We need to repeat our mantras and meet these challenging times with deliberate determination to make today amazing and tomorrow even better! 

I get it. This is not like staying in a bad relationship where we have control over the timeframe. This is not like quelling the savage teenage attitude where we have control over the outcome. This is a pandemic, where we have been forced to relinquish any and all control. Or have we? I don't think so. We can still have control over our choices, our actions, our interactions. We have the control to have an awesome day anyway. 

And so, my wish for you on the eve of this new week: Have an Awesome Day Anyway. Not sure how? Look around you. Appreciate the world moving along with the seasons, daily weather, cycles of life. Appreciate that you can serve others with a smile, an air hug, a love-note. Go buy a little gift and leave it on a doorstep, or under your child's pillow. Don't miss these opportunities to have an awesome day anyway. I know I am about to get started on mine. And the next day, guess what? My plan is the same and I will do it all over again. I will continue to write it in my journal and on my heart:

 "Today is the perfect day to have an awesome day anyway!"

Belonging is the Root of Gratitude

Go on any social media today and you will see a plethora of posts, quotes and pictures depicting gratitude in various ways and for a multitude of reasons. I am always amazed at the desire in the hearts of people to yell from the highest mountain about that for which they are grateful. It is beautiful really, and a human trait worth exploring.

What is it that makes us want to share our gratitude? Is it a feeling of happiness created by another? Is it the sensation of completeness that soothes our being? Or perhaps it is the sense of love that we enjoy at the receiving end of a message or sentiment. Whatever the catalyst, the sharing of gratitude holds in its power the healing necessary for our world.

And so today I challenge you to look inside for the origination of the gratitude you feel. Then look beyond the event or person or object and find what it is that is truly rooted in your heart. In almost every case, I believe you will find a sense of belonging has been planted deep within your heart by whomever or whatever brings you that sense of thankfulness. 

Take just a minute (I mean that literally.): Close your eyes and let your gratitude bring you joy. Sit with the thought for a moment and just feel it. Connection...belonging...you fit here...you have a place...you have a purpose...there is a reason for you. 

Then, once you have allowed your gratitude to permeate your very soul, go about bringing to others that same sense of belonging. Thank you for being here, allowing me to share my passion and purpose, and planting in my heart a sense of belonging right here on this journey with you.

If You Keep Making that Face, it Will Freeze that Way!

My children tonight asked why I always share with others about our foibles...ok, they didn't say "foibles", but they asked why I share all our weirdness and craziness. And I told them that sometimes I really feel that we are led through the experiences we have so that others can know they are not alone. For example tonight Anna, my 17 year-old new-driver, came home and greeted me with, "I know you don't need more to worry about but..." She had driven into the mailbox while attempting to park, knocking the passenger side mirror from the car. Well, not totally knocking it off. To be fair, it was hanging on by the power wires. But the good news is that the mailbox that had been secured (by me) was still intact. Oh, and by the way, the car needs to clear inspection this weekend after having failed three times. 

But this post is not about the mailbox or the mirror or failed car inspection. That was Monday. Nope, this post is about Tuesday and that old saying, "If you keep making that face, it will freeze that way!"  Remember being told that as a child? Silliness, right? And yet, with all this snazzy remote learning, that warning is more true than ever. 

If you are a frequent reader, you already know about Bear, our cute little puppy that we adopted in April. He was 10 weeks and 11 pounds then. He is now a 9 month-old 70 pound puppy. So Monday during period 3, Bear was happily lying next to the piano chewing on something. The dogs, there are three, have chew toys all over the house, so there was really no reason for alarm...until he let out a yelp that sent me jumping from my desk chair in the middle of a discussion about early 1900 immigration with my US History class. Immediately after his yelp, my class had gone black. When I went toward Bear, he was cowering. At the same time, Maccaroni children, who were all supposed to be in classes, began walking toward me saying how the internet had gone out, and it became apparent what had happened. Bear had chewed clear through our modem/router power cord and gotten a shock that scared him more than injured him. Thank God he's huge!

It is rare that I am affected by such seemingly normal Maccaroni-life-occurrences. But anyone who knows me well knows that I don't take teaching lightly. I began to get those feelings of frustration that make me feel I need to fix it...NOW! My kids were awesome...and why wouldn't they be? They got a free pass from period 4. I had them email their teachers with the present-day version of the dog ate my homework, which they really enjoyed a little too much. I went to Staples to see if the cord was replaceable but since it wasn't I purchased a new device and went home to do the set-up. Hopefully this has been fun for you so far. We are not even at the face-freezing part yet...but here it comes.

The kids and I were back in business by lunchtime and ready to take on the afternoon. That is when I decided it might be interesting to see what the Zoom recording showed in terms of the dog-yelp and what my students did in my absence. I went to my Zoom account, clicked on recordings, and that is when the old saying came to life..."If you keep making that face, it will freeze that way!" The recording said it all. Me in mid-sentence, Bear's loud screech, and then, the frozen face...

Maybe someone can explain this to me...frozen faces have become the norm...every day my students freeze in class, they tell me I am frozen, and at times we all share that "frozen in this moment" look, but we never freeze in a flattering pose. Why am I never full smile and bright eyes in that frozen screen shot? 

Then again, maybe that is the lesson here. These crazy remote learning days are just a moment in time. 

No need for alarm. No need for constant battling and worry. Some day in the not-so-far-future, these days will be nothing more than the memory of a moment frozen in time. What will your face look like in that memory? Let it be one of calm and serenity. Let it be one of happy childhood memories when your students look back and say:

• "My teacher was awesome!" 
• "He made sure we were OK everyday when we got on." 
• "We had so much fun!" 
• "She greeted me by name each day." 
• "She was beautiful inside and out!" 
• "This one time when his face froze, he was laughing so hard that he was smiling from ear to ear...that's how I remember him."

Letter to Teachers...We Know You Care!

Dear Teacher Who Cares, 

Recently I wrote myself a message on a post-it note.  It sits on my desk and says:

 "It only bothers the teachers who care.  We all care."  

The first sentence was a snarky snide comment someone made regarding their perceived failures of  those attempting remote teaching. The second sentence was my mental rebuttal. Anyone who thinks that simple realization is enough to quell the teacher-heart is ridiculously mistaken!

You are a teacher. You went into this profession in order to be around children, relay your curriculum and by doing so, change the course of the future for the better. But now you are being asked to make that commitment to the future without the means with which you were initially equipped or promised. What you are accomplishing is nothing short of miraculous and yet, even that realization is not enough to quell the teacher-heart.

Let's face it, you signed up to work your magic face-to-face with your students. Here we are, nine months into this craziness and we are doing our job in ways we never signed up for, and in ways that we know are not conducive to what we need to accomplish. But we still show up each day. I find that interesting.

My dear friend, as you continue along this path, keep your head up! You are doing incredible things and touching students without being physically near them. That is incredible! You are encouraging families and helping them to embrace this situation in ways that are new and exciting. You are amazing! You are a strength and support for your colleagues even from your distance. That is empowering!  You are getting up each day, maybe feeling lethargic and apathetic, but you are not letting your students know that. That is compassionate!  You are relaying your curriculum, keeping kids' minds nimble, making sure they are getting all that they would get if you had the optimum circumstances, even though you don't. That is impossible! So impossible that anyone else would have given up by now, said it was time to throw in the towel and cut your losses, wait until this thing passes, but you are still moving forward, one step at a time...that is commendable!

And so I say, "Thank you!"  Thank you for being amazing in a job that requires books, contact, pencils and paper, interaction, clear communication, glances, touches, all kinds of tools that we are not afforded at this time, yet we still are here, we still are teaching, we still are serving. That is awe-inspiring!

Please, please, please, stay away from negative comments!  Keep this in mind especially now...When someone says something negative, determine if there is any truth to it's condemnation.  If there is, fix it.  If there isn't, let it go. If you have the strength, tack on a positive rebuttal. For that, my dear teaching friend, is what we need to do. Are there times when you might be slacking or taking the easy road instead of diving in full force? If yes, determine to do better. If not, know that you are doing all you can in a world that is anything but conducive to teaching children! I know you care. You are amazing, performing the impossible and inspiring others to grow forward, one more step, one more day.  We can do this!  Thank you!  Thank you!

Fun With Homework: Sasquatch or Someone I Once Dated?

I'm sitting here staring at a pile of mail that needs my attention as well as lesson plans that need tweaking before tomorrow's classes, but I just can't help myself! I need to try to get this smile to you before tonight's vice presidential debate...or maybe I'll show some restraint and write it tonight but reread it in the morning before posting. Sometimes my nighttime-after-a-whole-day-of-online-teaching humor and thoughts are not completely appropriate to share. We shall see. Either way, please know that you were on my mind tonight as Bernadette and I muddled through her Language Arts homework.

You see, her homework asked her to take notes, something she swears she was never really taught to do, on two articles regarding mythological creatures. When I came upon Bernadette after getting dinner started, she was already in tears and giving up on the assignment, feeling that she was not prepared to tackle it, and wondering what the point was anyway. 

Let me stop for a moment to say that I DO NOT fault her teacher. This is the fifth pre-teen with whom I have shared a house. I know the script, and I do not allow my children to coerce me into thinking anything negative about their teachers. 

And so as I approached her, tissue in hand, she was gripping the soon-to-be broken pencil, proclaiming that the directions made no sense and the articles she was being asked to read were, and I quote, "stupid". That was it. Challenge accepted! You know I just had to read them now. Not to myself, but aloud and in every possible voice impersonation and accent I could muster. 

And so we began: Our main character (I forget his name) was in his sister's backyard when he saw a huge creature and ran into the house to get his brother-in-law, Bud Jenkins (that name stuck). That's when I knew that it was a Bigfoot story. With that newfound knowledge, I dutifully started in my best news-caster-serious tone. But after reading about Bud Jenkins, we switched to my best accusatory tone...you see, the article was trying to say these men were just hanging out when they saw the creature, but something about the backyard altercation in Fort Bragg, California was screaming to me, "a little too much to drink". And that's when it hit me...what if parents took it upon themselves to have a little fun with the homework?  What if we put our own little twist on the assignment? 

For example, when the article exclaimed that what's his name and Bud "saw it. In the shadows lurked a giant figure-over six feet tall and covered in hair." , the next bullet point could be: *"I dated a guy like that once." (This, by the way, was the breaking point for Bernadette, when tears turned to laughter.)

Please don't misinterpret my comments.  I get it. This was a lesson in notetaking, and a good one at that! But really, it lent itself so beautifully to a parent having a little fun to put a smile on the child's (and teacher's) face. Mermaids... sailors... dragons... Bluff creek...and, wait for it,  a nineteen foot long tentacle of a Giant Squid! Oh wow! the possibilities were endless! We went through the British accent, the bored tone, the speed reader and the coffee-clutch-ritzy woman before getting to the end of the assignment, and boy did we have fun!

Look, I'm all for taking school seriously. I think education is one of the most important yet overlooked basic rights of the American citizen. I don't take lightly what our teachers are trying to accomplish right now in the midst of impossible situations. In fact, I am happy to recall this quote that I used in one of my sociology papers in Grad School about teachers, "We the willing, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much, for so long, with so little, that we are now qualified to do anything with nothing." These words have become even more meaningful over the last six months of educational acrobatics. So how can we, parents of the students, let teachers know we are right there with them? Do the assignments, that's how! Not for the child, but alongside the child. Come on, a parent doing some Algebra II or Physics to the best of his/her ability could be just the boost the student and teacher need. It's all about showing appreciation and gratitude for the sharing of gifts that we as parent do not possess. 

I shall stop there. It is a challenge for you. I will look forward to hearing about the assignments you decide to take on sitting next to your child. Let them see you struggle. Let them see you have fun with it. Let their teachers see you are invested. And let the laughter flow. By the way, Bernadette is now dancing to James Arthur singing "Say You Won't Let Go". When asked about her fancy, carefree moves, her response, "Because...I feel good...I had fun...and my homework is done."  Nice!

A Case of Mistaken Reality

I told my kids I would try to put this into print. I am not so sure how it will go or if it will be more funny or sad. Given the present remote teaching situation, the humor in what I am about to share runs the risk of being overshadowed by the soberness of the times. But let's try to go for the laugh...shake it out, relax, and enjoy a chuckle at my expense.

Let me set the stage, the same stage under the feet of teachers worldwide as we attempt to play our part in a script we could not have imagined a year ago. Each morning as I enter stage right, I make sure I am in full teacher garb at least from the waist up. Instead of opening my classroom door and turning on the lights, I open Zoom after turning on my computer. Instead of hearing the cacophony of voices coming through the hallways I hear a monotonous chimed warning that someone is in the "waiting room", followed by the predictable 'ding dong' of their entrance into my fantasy classroom. They don't run through my door saying hello, racing to their favorite desk, needing to be redirected from peer conversation. No. They enter with muted voices. They speak to me only if spoken to. They pretty much ignore each other. Sheesh...as I write this it's Monday morning, no school today, and yet the description of this reality feels so intense. It's the same sounds, the same empty feeling, the same lacking atmosphere entered each day of the school week. Believe me, I am making it as fun as possible, causing laughter and making my students feel loved. I know that I am doing all I can to make it more fun, more interactive, more acceptable....but it falls incredibly short of the desired teaching reality each and every time.

But here is last week's story that might help to bring smiles to our tired teaching faces...or not. With the stage set as usual, my students and I were ready to watch the pre-recorded announcements, led by our principal and co-hosted by our librarian and two students. Let me say it again...PRE-RECORDED. In my mind this shared watching is a bonding time...a time when, as the school enjoys the announcements within the same class period, we can remember that we are all together in this world of detached teaching. As I'm sure you can imagine, I thoroughly enjoy sharing this special time. 

OK, so now it's confession time...Some would say, I 'get into it'. When those announcements come on, I feel connected and like I am still a part of something bigger than me, not just the main actor in my own, one-man Zoom Room. And so, at the end of the recorded announcements this week, as my principal and her co-hosts waved goodbye, (recorded, remember!) I found myself waving to them. I waved for quite a while before realizing I was waving to a recording...enthusiastically...in front of my class. I had mistaken the recording for reality because my reality has become so bastardized that it has taken on the identity of something that used to so clearly not be real-time. 

Confused? hell yes. This story of mistaken reality is confusing because this whole world right now is upside down. But in the end, here's the great part...my students were cracking up, my children were rolling at dinner when they heard the story, and hopefully, just maybe, you got a little chuckle.

Making Sure All Belong in the Community; lessons from a large family

Some names and events were changed to protect the identity of the child depicted in this story. Usually my children are immune to my musings, but this time my subject asked me to make her anonymous. The same child though, in listening to my journey, understood the parallels and importance of the analogy drawn below. (I think that makes me prouder than any part of this.) Check this out...

Last Saturday we went to Barnes and Noble for the first time since March. Barnes and Noble is this Maccaroni child's favorite place to go. I also made a special trip to Wegmans to purchase the frozen pineapple and new carafe she needed in order to attempt a recipe she had found for making a refreshing fruited water. When I returned home with it, I sat with her to spend some extra time talking with her to bring her calm. You see, that morning this Maccaroni had gone for her run and returned in tears. She had timed herself and was well over the expected mile limit for an athlete headed toward tryouts. This particular child has asthma, and although it is prohibitive in what she is able to do, she loathes using it as an excuse for anything. She was determined this summer to get her time down, she had failed at reaching that goal, and she was incredibly disappointed. Here's the thing though. She wasn't being the squeaky wheel. She wasn't asking for attention or gifts or time. She just needed; quietly, humbly, sadly; needed her people to surround her.

So what did this family do? As a unit, we took the time to make her the center of the universe for a while, to help ease her unhappiness and to encourage her to keep trying her best. As we did so, nothing was lost for anyone else. None of the other four was put out or ignored or made to be any less important by the attention directed toward the one who needed to be pulled in and loved extra. 

In fact, quite the opposite occurred. 

As she felt better, the child in question made her refreshing concoction and gratefully shared it with everyone around. At the bookstore, she chose a book of scary stories to share with her siblings and friends at a fire pit that night. Her healing brought happiness and new strength to the clan. Even Rebecca, the self-proclaimed social skill failure, was able to talk to her sister about team expectations and the fun her teammates would have partaking in the impending endurance training. Everyone went up a few pegs that day because together we decided that this young lady needed to matter more. We brought her to the fold and held her up until she was able to independently stand where she belonged...in the midst of a community that cared about her. No one whined, "What about me?" or stated, "We all matter." or screamed, "That's not fair!" Those types of comments weren't even entertained. On Saturday it was that one child who mattered, and because we all embraced that challenge and figured out how to make her well-being a priority, the family was stronger in the end.

Recently at a Lawrence Township Board of Ed meeting a wise woman proclaimed, "If one person in Lawrenceville is suffering, we are all suffering." Thank you, Erika Smoots, for summing up the journey we all share. I am proud and excited for the path laid out before us all. I am ready to make sure others matter until they too can independently stand where they belong, right here next to me and you, belonging in community.

Packing for Disney, But Ending Up In Europe

I am very excited to enter the new school year! Just as ever year of my life since I entered Kindergarten back in 1977, the promise of September brings with it anticipation for the school year ahead. Yes, think about that...I went to college right after high school, then began teaching the first September following my graduation. Sure, I took some time away from the full time classroom in order to parent my children, but even in those "off" years, I remained closely connected to the ebb and flow of the school calendar by staying within the school system. Then my son began preschool immediately following his 3rd birthday, and my feet were fully immersed in the system again, albeit from the other side of the desk. All that is to say that in my mind, the anticipation, the excitement and the just-plain-fun of the beginning of the school year is the same for me this year as it has been for the past 43 years.

I am disheartened by seeing the many posts lamenting the start of this year...not sure what good that does.  Imagine the messages it sends to new teachers and to students and their families. 

When has it ever served you well to look to the future with trepidation and misery?  Here, let me get that answer for you, I have it right here...NEVER! I remember long ago reading a reflection from the parent of a special needs child, equating the finding out what her parenting life would be like to having plans to go to Disney, but ending up in Europe, or Hawaii or Canada. Not a bad swap...just different. Different itinerary, different items in your bag, different expectations, but wonderful just the same! That's us this year, and I believe we need to adopt this viewpoint not just for ourselves, but for our students, their parents and for our new staff. This year promises to be different, yes. This year promises to be challenging, of course. This year promises to be life altering, as it should be. And if you pack for this year as though it was typical, you will be unprepared, true.

BUT...

This year does not promise to be bad, or a let-down, or a 'wash', as I saw someone say. Who are these people??? Are they educators??? Because they sure don't sound like educators!  At least not the ones I want by my side or the ones I want to see leading my children into this school year. We are here to care for each other. We are on our way to an amazing school year!  Not Disney, (sorry, Jess!)  but someplace just as amazing and beautiful! Pack up, gather your students, welcome all the new teachers in your building, get your smile on, and let's go!

Bandage or Lobotomy, We Must find the Solution!

Of the many passions I hold, reading in order to learn might be my most self-indulgent, just under running. Once I get my mind set on something that I feel requires my attention, I often cannot find enough information to ingest. I appreciate the affirmation of reading articles written by level-headed individuals in agreement with my initial thoughts. I am energized by reading the rebuttals made by rational individuals who provide perspective. And I am completely entranced by reading opposing arguments written by intelligent and respected individuals who challenge my thinking and ideals. These days I find myself entrenched in information about education, pandemic, racism, anti-racism, elections, you name it! So many aspects of our world need my attention, and I need information in order to figure out my role in being part of the solution, regardless of whether that solution is to be a bandage or a lobotomy, a quick patch or a full overhaul.

This past week, with my summer working positions complete and the next school year on the horizon, I was able to focus my attention on my house in order to complete much needed projects and repairs. In the midst of the week as I hung closet doors and created backyard drainage to stop my dogs from mudwrestling, our toilet took its refusal to fill to a new level of perfection. It had been testing us for a few weeks, ever since the plumber came to fix our well-meter pipe leak. I had been able to apply a bandage by adjusting this and moving that to make it work. But this week, it decided to complete its decent, and we found ourselves filling the tank manually by dumping the trash can filled with water from the tub into the tank after each use. Because the machine had been taking its time getting to the point of complete disfunction, I assumed this week that the inevitable solution was to completely change the toilet. Thursday night I lay in bed thinking about the expense and the job ahead. I had done my reading to learn how to install a new toilet, and I felt prepared for the challenge ahead. 

Fast forward to Friday morning...new day, new perspective. I decided to look up the information about why my toilet might be refusing to refill. Of the many videos available, one man told me that the fix was easy. He suggested that a part from Home Depot that would cost me $6.95 would save the expense and time of the full replacement. Since that guy became my new best buddy, I headed to Home Depot to find what I needed. 

Side note: when the kids and I moved to our new home almost five years ago, I wandered the aisles of Home Depot with tears streaming down my face trying to ascertain all I would need to maintain our house, while feeling so utterly out of place that I itched to leave as quickly as possible. I didn't talk to anyone, I didn't ask any questions, hell...I don't think I looked up at all. Well, that is no longer my Home Depot persona! Now when I need a trip to Home Depot, my favorite time is early in the morning when all the contractors are there getting ready for the day ahead. I bring the sunshine and I ask my questions. Confession: I might even know a few of the workers by name...with or without their nametags. 

I imagine if you got this far in my musings, you are wondering why this post, that began with my passion for reading and learning, has turned into a recount of a faulty toilet and a dropping of a mere $6.95 to fix it. So here it is. For $6.95 I was able to replace a part in my toilet. Immediately after turning the water back on, the tank filled. The first day of my victory, I was taking a bow and my daughter suggested holding my self-praise until the toilet's integrity was tested and our bathroom didn't flood. Here we are, two days and many, many flushes later, and the fix stands. "So what?" you say...well...

Our current state of our country and the world, in so many ways, is reflected in the story of my toilet. Yes, much of it feels as though we are taking our values and flushing them away...but that might be an entirely different post. For our purposes here, we really need to decide, do we need a quick fix or a full replacement? 

Does our current world need a bandage or a lobotomy? 

This answer is not going to be easily attained. It is going to take incredible amounts of information through reading, communication and deliberately stepping outside of our comfort zone. Keep in mind, my journey to find the fix to my toilet began almost five years ago by meandering the aisles of Home Depot with tears in my eyes. I was out of my element, feeling that all eyes were on me and judging my every move. I was afraid to ask questions of the experts there for fear that I would seem ignorant or foolish. Sound familiar?

Anyone paying attention and feeling called to be part of the solution these days is likely finding themselves in situations filled with the experience of similar feelings. I sure hope that's you! Racism, pandemic, politics, education, economy, you name it...there is need for repairs. And at this point, we are all trying to figure out if our system needs a bandage or a lobotomy.  And just as there were numerous videos telling me how I needed to go about fixing my toilet issues, there are numerous opinions, coming from various walks of life, each vying to be the solution to the ailment you are studying. 

So be patient, be open, be vigilant and be ready. Be informed! Be inquisitive! Be courageous! Whether we need a bandage or a lobotomy, the fix will be found. Might it need testing, tweaking and further work? Absolutely! The work is never done! That's the blessing of being alive! Embrace it, and let's go!

Bold and Brash...SpongeBob Wisdom for Educators

Ah, good ole' Bold and Brash. Anyone know the artist? Anyone even know where this beautiful masterpiece originated? Some of you already know and are perhaps giggling a little. By the end of this short collection of words, you will all know the artist and the story behind the connection to the current state of education. For now, know that you are looking at the artwork that hangs alone, adorned with masking tape not tacks or nails, on my dining room wall. On days when I need a reminder to be Bold and Brash, I set up my laptop to capture this image while I am on my "Zoom" calls with fellow staff or with students. It helps me to remember to smile, and to remember who I am at my core. 

Teachers, administrators and all those involved in education, it is time for you to step up and be Bold and Brash. Now I know some of you might be questioning my use of the word brash and incredulous at my suggestion that as educators we should adopt such a stance. But this week, and actually in bits and pieces as the summer moved along, I have seen my colleagues accept attacks on their profession, their judgement and their integrity. I have seen strong men and women feeling the sting of those they serve turning against them. And I have wondered in my mind, 'Why are you listening to those people? Why are you letting their judgement affect your heart? You are stronger than that! You know your heart!" My thoughts go on and on, and in the end, what I want to scream is that "It is time to be strong in your stance! It is time to have courage in your convictions! It is time, my friends, to be BOLD AND BRASH!"

You see, Bold and Brash is Squidward's creation. He is proud of it. He thinks it is precious and priceless. He believes it is a work of art. In the scene that inspired my children's dining room artwork, Squidward proudly proclaims to an art critic, "I call it, Bold and Brash" to which the critic replies, "More like belongs in the trash.", prompting the custodian to declare, "I must have missed that one." as he takes it and throws it in his receptacle. (Watch the 11 seconds here, if you'd like a chuckle.) Later in the episode, however, SpongeBob finds it and rescues it for his friend. You see, SpongeBob is unwavering in his loyalty to his friend. He believes in the talent Squidward claims to possess. And in his eyes, from his perspective, he wants to be more like his friend. 

As workers in a service profession, we are in the business of working for all types of people. Much like nurses, doctors and all service workers, we serve everyone and anyone who comes along our path. Teachers though, we take it a step further. We take a classroom of 20, 25, 30 personalities, and work our magic to help them become a family. We invite them into our lives and encourage them to bring along their parents and caregivers. As such, we open ourselves up to all levels of scrutiny and feedback. Stop for a moment and consider the many lenses through which we are viewed throughout our days. This is an awesome responsibility when you pause to think about it! The wonder is not in that these various people have different ways of interpreting and digesting the current state of our educational system, but that they ever got along to begin with! 

And then comes a pandemic...stripping you of your ability to continue to serve in the same capacity. YOU didn't change. Your desire to serve didn't change. Your convictions didn't change. Your love for your students, their parents and your craft didn't change...You are still YOU! The circumstances in which you are functioning, however, those have changed, tremendously.

 

PAUSE.....When are you most yourself?  Embrace that and visualize it right now. Close your eyes and envision yourself fully in your element, at your best, when you are most proud of all that you do and feel the best about sharing your talents.  Hold onto it, because now is the time you learn to defend it! 

Listen, I am never an advocate of being anything but kind. In fact, most people close to me will tell you that I am kind to a fault, extending grace beyond normal limits, even to those who may no longer deserve it. And this declaration is no different. Kindness now is more important than ever, but we must also be unwavering and clear. This is the defending of the very blood that runs through the veins of the educator. This is standing up, not only for ourselves, but for our students and what we know to be the best for them and their families. 

It is not time to be meek. It is time to be BOLD and BRASH!!! 

Don't you dare let others tell you that you are less than you are just because you, as they, are living through a pandemic. A PANDEMIC, for Pete's sake!!!  Bold and Brash! Be Bold and Brash! Stand up for that person you envisioned and all that that person does for others. Be the person you envisioned so that you can continue to positively influence others. Your students and their parents, even when they might be throwing vitriol and venomous opinions your way, need you to be Bold and Brash! They, like you, are scared and broken by the current state of our world. So you must be the strength and clarity. Hold yourself to the highest of standards that you always have. In the end, Bold and Brash will be rescued and revered for having lead those we serve through this tough time to a better place. 

Ever Since the Pandemic, My Laptop Says the Nicest Things

"I'm going to miss you."

---The voice came from my laptop, the screen of which was filled with the big eyes of a beautiful boy from Kenya, one of my Grade 4 Extended School Year students. 

"Miss, you are such nice teacher." 

---That voice also came from my laptop, the screen of which was filled with the beautiful face of a Pakistani child new to our country, one of my Grade 7 Summer Destination students.

"This is just not enough time with you. I look forward to it every day and then when you are here it goes too fast."

---Laptop again relaying the message of an ESL child with whom I was blessed to share my summer months using math and Language Arts as our excuse to form a relationship.

Why do I share this with you? Because quite simply and honestly these moments illustrate how the angst of our hearts can be quelled by the sentiments of beautiful children who are anything but unaffected by our on-screen demeanor. This is validation. This is what we all need to know and keep in mind as we head into the new school year, parts of which will be spent behind a mask, and the other parts behind a keyboard.

Teachers are a unique breed of people who define their professional lives by the touch and feel and emotion of relationship. As the school year begins, we will soon head into a new dimension of our work where the touch and proximity with which we relate to our students will be monitored and/or completely denied. Think about it, even doctors who by their nature spend intimate time with patients, are only with them for a short period of time. 

But teachers? 

                                No, not us. 

We sign up for 181 days, sight unseen. We adopt a roster which includes the names of people whom we do not know, but yet commit to love and cherish for the upcoming school-year and beyond. 

So don't be fooled! 

                                        Be inspired! 

This year, though unlike any other, is calling you to be the same as always, in a different way. 

• Be the same lover of children, the one who just can't get enough of being around them. 
• Be the same sweet, kind, caring person to whom your students know they can turn. 
• Be the same smile, the same voice of reason and compassion and the same passionate planter of seeds, whether academic, social or emotional. 

I believe we can create in our students the same level of love and relationship regardless of the guidelines that will dictate HOW we do so. We've Got This!!! 

Might Not be a Good Day to Tape the Faucet Spout

To be honest, I don't even remember the incident all that well, but my children do.  It was the day they learned from me that there is a time and a place for humor. They didn't learn because of anything I said or any lesson I decided to teach them. This incident perfectly illustrates how much of our parenting happens, the good and the bad, without our deliberate action. 

It had been a particularly difficult day, Easter Day on which we had guests who had joined us for dinner. It also happened to be April Fools day, a day during which I do not generally participate in the antics. To top it off, the way our school calendar was set up, we would return to the classroom the next day, and so the stresses were getting to me. After sharing dinner and wishing our guests a good evening, I was ready to clean up and haul my tired butt off to bed. 

If the kids were here to tell the story, they would pause here for effect, pointing out that from this point forward, it was as if everything moved in slow motion. 

I reached for the sponge and a crusty baking pan, then turned on the tap before they could react. They were frozen, not knowing whether to call out or run for the hills when the faucet spout that was covered with tape to surprise a sibling, instead began spraying me and my exhausted self. I was numb. I just walked away crying. There was nothing more I could do. I felt terrible because the kids were silent, except for the small, meek, "I'm sorry, mom." I ended up apologizing to the kids for breaking down, even though it was not done intentionally or to cause them discomfort. But the fact remains that in the end, without any words of correction, the lesson they learned was a valuable one of taking care of those we love, being aware of what others are experiencing, and of course, the timing of the yuk.   

Being in tune with what others are experiencing before acting or opening our mouths has become not only more important these days, but also a bit easier in some ways. We are all experiencing an incredibly stressful and anxiety producing state of the world. Even those who believe COVID is a hoax and racism is non-existent are caught in the midst of a time when the big picture lacks serenity and peace. Although we all are in the throes of the same experience, the myriad of perceptions makes it challenging to believe "We Are All In This Together". I believe at times such as these, it is all the more important to step back. Look around. Are you taping the spout? Have you considered the consequences of that action? How about the consequences of your words? Is it possible that the best thing you can do right now is to stop needing to go for the laugh, the change of opinion, the need to be right?

That incident was a little over two years ago, but the kids still talk about it. They learned from it, and from watching me melt down. It was legendary. It was memorable. It was a family moment. To some of them, at the time it was downright scary. Fast forward to today. Four of my five children are now in their teens, and one thing is still certain. There are days when the tape on the faucet is funny, and days when it can put someone right over the edge. We cannot control when things will happen, and we cannot control how others will react, but what we can do, is step back, look at the big picture and consider the feelings of others and the consequences of what we are about to do. 

Megaphone Announcement: PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE SCREEN

Today I had news/opinion overload. In the end, I came to this conclusion: We really don't need so many articles or to spend our time on Social Media in order to know what is right and safe for our individual and family needs. And so, imagine that I am standing with a megaphone and speaking very clearly...slowly...to not be misunderstood at all: "FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE SCREEN" and give yourself a moment to listen to your heart and your mind (but not until after you finish reading this, wink-wink). There, and only there, will you find your inner peace and sense-of-self; that little bit of you that knows just what is right for you and those you love.  Your gut, so to speak. You don't need others to tell you who you are...especially others who have no idea who you are....so STEP AWAY FROM THE SCREEN and give yourself the time and grace to remember where your heart is planted.

When we were all sent home back in March, we relied on our screens to help us stay connected and informed. Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not a screen person.  My home has internet connection but no cable or regular television access. We have only one TV. It sits in our living room until the occasion when it is moved into one of the kids' rooms if, for example, the girls want to have a sob-story-marathon and Max and I don't want to be witnesses to the tears and drama. I've had folks walk in to see the empty TV stand and wonder if I finally went off the deep end and ditched the thing. All that to paint the picture for you of me in March, reading from my screen as much as I could in order to stay connected and informed in our tumultuous world. We all were doing the same thing, becoming a captive audience to an assembly line of information, mostly dire news, telling us what we needed to know in order to survive the pandemic that had taken over our planet.

Fast forward to July, four months later. How are you doing with curating the amount of news available for your perusal?  Are you back to discerning what you allow into your brain and keeping out that which will do nothing but breed panic? You see, as a captive audience, we allowed ourselves to become victim to the unending factory-style produced 'news' that our screens are designed to deliver. 

This is not good. 

This is not healthy. 

And it is time to take ownership of the control over what we allow into our minds and into our homes. Imagine, if you will, that the screen did not exist, and the only way for you to get information was to allow the original person who wrote it to come into your home to inform you. Would you allow the fools, the attackers and those with whom you know you will feel only anger and dissent? Perhaps you would invite one, just for frame of reference and to ensure you are open to hearing all sides, but I doubt you would allow the barrage of negative-message-senders that you are inviting onto your devices. It is time to stop allowing ourselves to be subject to information overload. I suggest we need to designate time for information intake. Next we need to designate time to discern and study the information we gathered. Then and only then can we let the information marinate in our minds so that we can think for ourselves. You have a mind that just might have answers we all need, but it can only get to the point of lucid thinking when you allow it to stop being attacked by the ridiculous amount of information provided by your screen. 

And so, one final time, I implore you...PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE SCREEN...you'll be surprised at what you will find when you give your mind and heart the freedom to be yours again.

Our Co-Workers Need Us-and so we parent

Remember being a teen and having your first job? What was the job? What were your hours and your wages? Were your co-workers memorable? Do you remember being trained, commended or let go? Chances are good that, depending on your age, that job was twenty, thirty, forty years ago, and those little details have long since left the nest of your brain. But one thing that I think most of us will recall of our teen-worker mind is that feeling of, "Well, I'll try this job, but if I don't like it, I can always find another."  So if there was a tough boss or a co-worker who rubbed us the wrong way, we knew it was an interim job that we could easily leave in order to find other gainful employment.

Over the course of remote learning, it became a fun and common social media practice to refer to your children as co-workers, and report what your "co-workers" were doing at any given time. Some quips were cute: "My co-worker is asking for candy. It's 8am."  Others were funny: "My co-worker is hiding under his blanket because he doesn't want to go on his Zoom meeting." And for me, each co-worker report was a reminder that parenting is a non-stop, non-quittable and always memorable state of work.

Yes, parenting is a job...but even more-so, parenting is a verb; an action word. You see, if it were a job in the true sense of the word, you would get paid, you would get time off, and you would have the option to quit at any time in order to look for other gainful employment. Ever wish you could quit your job as parent? Hell, some days I even wish I would get fired! However, that is not the reality. The reality is that we can totally screw this up today, but tomorrow we will need to wake up and get right back into it, figuring out the way to make things right and better and livable. 

As funny and endearing as the co-worker stories were intended to be, and as much as they were not a reflection of our true position as parent, here is one aspect that I do think works well in describing our current adult role. Just as when you were younger, or even in your present employment position, you could not and should not take the blame or the credit for the actions of your co-workers. Might you be the mentor and the teacher they have to help them learn this thing called living? Yes, of course. That is in your job description. But nowhere does it say that while they are honing their humanity skills, when they fail or succeed, you get the consequence or the bonus. The repercussions and the glory belong solely to your co-workers for the job they are doing. So let go...in all ways...and watch them take what you've taught, apply it and learn from it.

You see, whenever your journey with your co-workers began, whether 2 months, 2 years, or 20 years ago, you were strapped in for the good and the treacherous.  You were signed on to work this position for the rest of your life. You were also chosen especially for this task with each co-worker with whom you are blessed to share this life. You were not given pre-service training. You were not given a manual with answers to apply at each new turn. You were not given wages or a vacation schedule. You were given a title, Mother or Father. You were given a gift. And you were given a heart which is endless in its capacity to love through the toughest of times. We cannot decide how our co-workers will apply what we have to share and we cannot predict the outcomes of their actions. We must go about this job with integrity and unconditional love, hoping we are doing things correctly and not screwing up too much. We have co-workers who rely on us for every need in the beginning and then those needs change as time goes on. There is no set formula or rules and regulations. We are not called to perfection of parenting, but perfection of love. Our co-workers need us, and so we parent. 

Words and Phrases that say, "Notice me...Live me..."

Sometimes words float into my head and then proceed to float right back out. Other times, they sit and roost, begging to be entertained for a long visit, bringing with them a "notice me... live me..." kind of attitude. The following paragraphs each begin with a phrase that has been perched on my brain for some time, resurrected intermittently by events we've all been living. I would like to share the phrases, along with questions I ask myself, so that you too, might invite them in for a little conversation, contemplation and mindful interpretation. I'd love to know if any of them say to you, "Notice me...Live me..."

Living in fear does not protect you. Worry does not protect you. Living in worry and fear is not really living at all. When worry and fear start to guide my days, I know it is time to step back and assess. What exactly is the basis for the worry? What is bringing fear to the forefront of my mind? Without fail, whatever the catalyst for either, the debilitating effect is unproductive and unhealthy. Our world offers much to fuel the flames of worry and fear, but when I go in the direction of entertaining either, I forget that my purpose on this planet is to live, to the fullest of my potential. I cannot do that when I am afraid to be around people, or when by avoiding others, I refuse to notice the service I am called to perform. Our calling, vocation and purpose do not change because life has become more difficult to manage. When I allow worry and fear to guide my life, I am not fully living my "me". What are you called to do? How can you do that with fervor, even in the face of circumstances that fuel worry and fear?

I can be happy and at peace while still being safe and cautious. At various moments over the past few months, our world arrived at a point where being happy and at peace was difficult to muster. While approaching shopping one day, mask in place, I smiled at a young man who was wiping down carts and thanked him for working to keep us all safe. I could not see his mouth, but the smile that came through in his eyes was enough to stop me in my tracks. I proceeded to ask him to smile at everyone in that way as they entered the store so that they can feel the happiness and peace that his smile brought to me even in the midst of this newly stressful situation of 'regular' shopping. That exchange brought to the forefront of my mind the first line of this paragraph. Go ahead and reread it. I am often accused of not taking things seriously enough because I am at peace with the turmoil. My ability to find happiness and peace is not a bad thing. It is a gift and a trait I work diligently to hone, even in adverse situations. Imagine a world where more of us could live as the young man with the beautifully smiling eyes so adeptly did, and pass peace along to others.

Happiness is not ignorance; it is the complete acceptance of our lack of control and willingness to continue forward anyway. That's right! Happiness has nothing to do with being clueless. Quite the opposite! I know the famous saying goes, "Ignorance is bliss." And while those who are ignorant might enjoy a certain level of bliss in not knowing what is amiss in their surroundings, this is not true happiness. The bliss this quote speaks of is merely a band-aid that can be ripped off to expose a source of misery at any second. Imagine you are in your home, totally oblivious to the vandals outside just waiting for the moment to break in. You are feeling bliss...but it will not be long lasting. True happiness exists only by knowing exactly what we are up against, accepting our position and role, and moving forward with full knowledge of possible consequences. 

I challenge you to let these words take root in your mind for some mindful moments. Maybe a phrase per day for a few days. I was deliberately vague in most of my presentations of these phrases in hopes that you might find circumstances in your own life where the words can come to life, whispering or screaming, whatever your preference, "Notice me...Live me..."

Sharing My Conundrum (Gotta love that word!)

My most recent post was made on Memorial Day...perhaps that was the last time I felt that my mind could wrap itself around a topic without wincing and feeling irreconcilably inadequate. While I have voiced to many people why I have taken a leave from posting, I feel it would be most responsible of me to let you, the folks who tend to enjoy my musings, know where I've been and why. Let's see if I can put words to the reasons in such a way that help me to more easily make my way back to the keyboard that I've so tremendously missed! But, like a child cautiously dipping his toe to test the waters, I fear the consequences of any path I take in this tenuous environment.

The brokenness of our society and world is heartbreaking. That is not news to anyone choosing to live and breathe. Even my children, young as they are in the scheme of things, can understand that living in community on this planet can be challenging on a good day and downright petrifying on another type of day. We have much work to do...this is not novel information. And although many might not like to hear it, much of the work needs to be done on each of our individual hearts in order to foster the wisdom and courage to go out into the world and create the change that is necessary for humanity to be human again. 

And therein lies my absence. While I feel completely unable to voice anything worthwhile or new in this culture of commentary-oversaturation, I also feel that to write about frivolities in the form of, for example, metaphors between my dog and life, is to diminish the enormity of our world's present state of turmoil. I mean, does it really matter that I write about how I cried at the end of our school year when people are feeling hatred and loathing for and from others on a daily basis? I really don't know.

And so, where does this leave me and my writing? I am not sure. I am here, so that is a step. I cannot allow a full month to go by before sharing new writing, so that is telling. I've a long list of frivolity that is waiting for words and is sure to bring smiles. I've a longer list of deep-rooted messages that I've been told need to be shared. And I've fear of penning either route. 

With all of that out on the table, I will move past my fear and insecurity to come back to the keyboard. I welcome any and all points of view to be voiced back to me...even if mostly through personal emails and messages. Anyone who knows me well, knows that it is never my intention to be anything but kind. A good friend, without realizing it, gave me the boost I needed when he said, "I'd never call you a jerk." Ha! It's the little things...but with my reputation for kindness preceding me, I will move forward. Thank you to those who have reached out to see where I have been. (My favorite message: "Long time no read.") Thank you for living this life with me. Thank you for reading and thank you for being. Not sure what the next words will be, but whatever path is chosen, it's a comfort to know we will be hashing it out together.  See you in a few days!

Yes, I Believe We Do Need Another Memorial Day Reminder

My son is a unique individual with an uncanny penchant for music. Since he just recently completed his first year as an undergraduate music major, my first experiences with him as a child of music have been flooding my mind. One of his earliest musical traits, exhibited when he was about 2 or 3 years old, is that he would listen to Vivaldi as he paced around the room. My son was well into his third year of life before he began to speak discernable words, so his innate musical talents superseded the milestone of spoken communication. He would request his Vivaldi with a finger point, then begin his anticipation for the tracks to play. As soon as the music began he would pace around the room, hands dropped motionless at his sides, face to the floor. Little emotion was involved with the first two tracks, but when track #3 came on, he would continue his pensive pace with tears streaming down his cheeks, only to be replaced by joy-filled pacing when Track #4 came up. I would watch in awe and quite frankly a stupor of ignorance because I did not "see" or feel the music the way Max did. It pained my mom-heart to see him feeling such deep sadness, but on the occasion I attempted to skip Track #3 to avoid his despair, he protested vehemently and demanded, without words, that I play the tracks in order. What was he thinking? I didn't know because he couldn't tell me. But the thought was there, as well as the feeling attached to it. And he was just fine with the sad that came as part of the package deal of his favorite Vivaldi CD.

I find Memorial Day to be one of those holidays that is, much like Max's Vivaldi excursions, in deep contrast with itself. Folks will utter the ubiquitous phrase, "Happy Memorial Day", and I shudder a little inside. It is with joy that we take the day off to feel the anticipation of the summer months that lurk just around the calendar bend. But with this happiness, we must not forget the reason and accept that Memorial Day, like the Vivaldi CD, is a package deal. We must remember that this day is held in high honor to recall and remember all the lives lost at the cost of our freedom. We cannot celebrate the joy of freedom without also experiencing the sadness of lost lives, broken families and children/spouses/parents who never come back home. I am going to let Bernadette finish this post with her winning speech given last year at our township Memorial Day commemoration. Keep the soldiers and families in your heart today, and don't be afraid...no, in fact, demand as my little man did so many years ago, to feel the sadness of this day and allow your emotions to run down your cheeks in memorialization of life lost at the expense of so much that we have to celebrate.

Here is Bernadette's full speech: *Bernadette on Memorial Day 2019