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 My son was well into his third year of life before he began to speak discernable words, so his innate musical talents superseded the milestone of spoken communication.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

Worry is Like ...

….can you fill in the blank? I am sure there are many possibilities, but I am going to stick to the traditional quote by Erma Bombeck..remember her? and if you know the answer from the National Lampoon movie Van Wilder, well you and I have very different movie taste, but I guess that's another way to get folks involved here. haha! Wherever you know the answer from, or if you don't know this quote at all, traditionally the beginning of the wisdom goes:

Worry is like a rocking chair...

Now, the real question is, do you know why?

The answer will be at the end of this post...but first, the reason I am bringing this up today...

In taking my dog out I sometimes become frustrated that she is so incredibly discerning about the location in which to make her deposit. (work with me here...I promise the connection will be evident in short measure) My frustration is exponentially increased if the rain is falling because not only does the circumstance of the rain make it more time consuming for her to find the right spot, but she psyches me out! She will look as though we have hit the jackpot only to, by some means indiscernible to me, decide to move elsewhere. Her discernment is maddening at best, and so I find that I must hum a little ditty in my head in order to not lose my mind.

But here is the kicker...after so much time and preparation put into finding the correct the location for the deed, I don't believe she ever...EVER...gives another thought to that particular decision. She puts a tremendous amount of time into the decision, then never looks back; never second guesses her choice, never worries about it again. I don't believe that later in the day as she attempts to commence a nap she laments, "What the hell was I thinking??? two more feet to the left, that's where I should have gone!" Nope. She is hyper-focused at the moment...and only at the moment...and that focus is commendable, but her ability to move on from that decision without worry or regret is downright admirable.

Over the past weeks, how often have we been reminded that it is our 'duty' (haha! couldn't resist...I miss my middle school boys!) to make this new way of life livable. We have needed to adjust to new ways of doing just about everything in our daily lives. This type of pull-the-rug-out-from-under-you adjustment has brought with it tremendous uncertainty, stress and worry. I find that every decision I make relies on the consideration of several factors before I can come to a conclusion that I then continue to question as I move forward.

What is the right way to help my children through this, given the circumstances?

What is the right way to teach about the Middle Ages, given the circumstances?

How can I keep my sanity, given the circumstances?

What is the best way to read a novel with my class, given the circumstances?

When is the best time to go food shopping, given the circumstances?

How can I best care for my mother who lives alone, given the circumstances?

You know what I mean, because you are making similar difficult choices and living with similar considerable worry, given the circumstances. But here is the connection to my dog's discernment and lack of worry and ours. The amount of time and worry we put into each decision will not and should not continue to bring us to a point of worry and regret as we move ahead. If you know dogs, you know that their discernment out in the wild as to where to go could be a life or death decision....and yet, they are able to let go of the decision that was made after it is done and move on. When I admire the carefree life of my dog, I think that I should and will adopt more of her ability to trust her instincts enough to move on without worry.

The circumstances don't appear to be changing back to what we once knew anytime soon. Our need to make decisions based on zero past experience and move ahead to the next new way of doing things tomorrow is only going to increase. And so, we must get off that rocking chair because here's the end of the quote:

Worry is like a rocking chair...

...it will give you something to do, but it won't get you anywhere.

When Ship Captains Are Asked to Pilot a Plane...Happy Principal Appreciation Day!

Anyone who knows me knows that I have not used this social isolation time to sit still and be idle. It's simply not who I am. As such, I have had the joy of serving and communicating with many people and have received bits of encouragement with every encounter, whether from a six-foot distance or online. This one little nugget mailed to me in the form of a "Thank You" card seems perfect to share on this very special Principal Appreciation Day:

Find a way to be the uplifting force that someone needs today.

After the Sandy Hook tragedy in 2012, I wrote a letter to our principals thanking them for being the servant leaders that my mom-heart could count on to ensure the safety of my children as they entered the school building. There was no doubt in my mind as to the dedication each of my children's principals had for creating a safe school environment. Today, my heart echoes this very sentiment, but with a new crisis in mind. In reflecting on the role of principals in today's circumstances, and with the idea of being the force that lifts others, one thought keeps coming to mind.

Consider this: In normal times, the school is a large cruise ship coasting through each school year with our principals at the helm. Perhaps due to all my PIRATE training and connections, I imagine the happy sailors teaching their crews under the direction of adept principal captains. But on March 13th, our principals were stripped of their ship-captain badges and instead ushered onto a plane. They were given little guidance in the use of the controls and the intricacies of the cabin, even as they were suddenly expected to assume the role of pilot.

I have the privilege of watching principals from many vantage points: as faculty, parent, taxpayer and friend. I have leaned on them for direction, support, a listening ear and guidance. In this time when so few have answers, our principals have been able to ease the minds of their staff and students. This did not just happen. This is the result of past relationship building that is ongoing for principals. When in the program for Educational Administration at TCNJ, my advisor and I were in conversation over the fact that I was still uncertain as to my desire to leave the classroom to seek an administrative position. I was concerned that the administrative role would diminish my ability to deeply affect students. This very wise woman, knowing that it was in my nature to question, posed this question to me: "How many more students and families will you be able to serve if you assume a leadership position in education?" Indeed!

As I watch principals, I am in awe of their great potential to reach so many and their impeccable ability to ease the minds of students, staff and families. Thank you to all who are out there serving others in the role of principal. Your efforts are applauded, admired and appreciated more than you could ever know!

Thank you for learning to fly...for becoming a pilot...in order to be the uplifting force for so many!