Facing Lent

On another note (from the post I just added below), I have been wrestling with what to give up for Lent - well, actually I know what to give up, I'm just not sure if I can. I plan to give up TV. Not entirely...I don't want to set myself up for 40 days of guilt because I keep breaking my promise. But I'm going to
reduce it drastically. And I have decided that part of the sacrifice of Lent should be about replacing your sacrifice with something holy.
So in the place of TV watching, I plan to read more, write more, connect with old friends AND new (what a challenge!), and exercise. It sounds like a lot of new things...but I watched a LOT of TV. I want you to hold me accountable and I plan to write about my struggles; actually I hope I will be writing more because of my struggles.
So I'm writing now because it is beginning to get dark, the entertainment unit is beckoning me to open it, Chris will not be home for several hours so I am ALONE and the silence is becoming maddening.
I know Lent has not started yet. But I feel the need to begin my discipline now. Why wait? So I will try to resist tonight. But thanks for being here for me when I need support.
By the way, I hope you take time to find a service to attend on Ash Wednesday (that's March 1). This was a tradition I completely missed out on by growing up in the Southern Baptist World of Texas and the Bible Belt. I promise that very close to you are several services going on all day on Wednesday - try your local Episcopal church for a real treat or the less threatening Methodist service if you need help. We should all be forced to spend at least one day a year being
reminded that we are but dust. And to dust we will return.

Back from Retreat

I have just "returned" from a day of retreat...except that I didn't go anywhere. At least not from my house. I certainly went somewhere that I needed to go. Let me explain.

One of the perks of my previous job was being able to attend a Day of Silent Retreat twice a year at an area convent, preceding the two main seasons of church life: Advent and Lent. Now that I live in a new town and have a teaching job, I have not discovered a way to return to this luxury just yet. However, Sunday morning I woke up feeling awful - headache, weak, nauseous, dizzy - probably fighting a bug from my students. And by 7 that night I decided I should take today off from school; I didn't feel well enough to deal with my students and I had just read Chris' friend Greg's sermon from that morning where he encouraged his congregation to take time during Lent to be in silence daily. And I realized, I have an opportunity to have my own retreat at home, while recovering from being sick. It would take discipline...I couldn't turn on the TV or spend time on the internet, and I couldn't sleep the day away. But I knew it was necessary - in fact I needed this day more for my soul than for my health.

I knew exactly where I would start, but I was afraid to begin. For almost 4 months (close to the day actually), I have been putting off reading Kyle Lake's Understanding God's Will. I had meant to read it a year ago but had forgotten until we returned from Kyle's funeral. And so when we got back, I found it on the bookshelf, set it on my nightstand and looked at it almost daily, dreading the feelings it would bring when I opened the cover. I thought I knew what I was running from - the pain and grief of losing Kyle to death. But today shocked me at what I found.

Somewhere in the pages, I just started crying, and my tears were not just for the life lost that was too young. My tears were for the life I lost in God. I was so angry at God, anger I thought I had already left behind, anger I thought I had because of death. But instead I was angry because I thought if I followed His ways, if I was his disciple, I would be protected from certain heartbreaks. Sure, life would be tough, but in a "I wouldn't win the lottery" kind of way.
I thought certainly I would be protected from death at a young age; that my husband who gave his life to the ministry would be protected from death also; and that my friends, such as Kyle, who also were ministers would be protected. So I wept today. Realizing that I had hung my
hat on Christianity with a deal. A deal I thought I was granted because I believed. "See, I'll follow you, as long as you allow me certain rights above those around me who do not follow." I would say the words and thought I believed them, that Christianity doesn't bring
exemption. But obviously, I did not believe them.
And then I realized that I have not really spoken to God since Kyle's death. Not in my heart anyway.
Because now I have to find out why I believe in this God. Why do I put my trust in his promises, why would I strive to live his ways if there is no protection, no trade-off?
So I cried today for the life I left behind on October 31 with Kyle's death. First I cried tears of anger that I had to leave that life behind at all and then I cried tears of pain in having to find a new way, but what I know will be a better way.
I have not finished Kyle's book yet; but so far I have heard him loud and clear. This life is not about the end result: God's will. This life is about the journey. Kyle lived that belief to the fullest.
One reason we grieve so hard is that we know we needed his example. I will struggle with how to live in the now, living in the journey, allowing my relationship with God to be about the relationship and nothing more. And I will have times of failure. But I can't go back. I must be changed. Otherwise, Kyle taught me nothing. And more importantly, God taught me nothing.

The Sunflower

Thanks for letting me rant and rave last week. Chris asked me the night I wrote the blog what I was specifically writing about - he said I never really addressed the issue of what made me so angry at the school system. Well, my response took about 30 minutes to explain all that was bothering me, so I will spare you the details (and myself the typing). I think my point was not the specifics but the general frustration I have with the top-down approach of the education system right now. Again, thanks for reading.
I want to apologize if I offended you in any way. I won't write about my political views here much because I know we all might think many different things, so I'm sorry if my views are not the same as yours. I do not mean to offend.
On a completely different note, I have to recommend a book for you to read. I've only read the first section, but it has been swirling about in my mind for days now. The Sunflower by Simone Weisenthal (spelling?) is a book about forgiveness and redemption, essentially. Mr. Weisenthal was a Jewish man who survived the holocaust and later became a "Nazi hunter" seeking out SS soldiers and others and sending them to their trials and sentencing - many of them to death. But the book is about an experience he had in a concentration camp when he was pulled aside in a hospital where he was working to see a dying SS soldier. The soldier wanted to repent and be redeemed for his sins - among the many - murder of many Jews. Weisenthal wrestles with his decision and eventually walks away from the man's bedside, unable to offer forgiveness - especially as he himself is still facing death every hour. After that section of the book, others discuss his situation and what they would do in his place. I haven't started that part of the book yet. I have been wondering if I would be able to forgive someone who had that much evil in their lives. And Weisenthal proposes the question of whether the SS soldier's crime is the only forgiveness needed? What about the others who did nothing to stop the slaughter of the Jews, what about those who mocked and humiliated them before the holocaust even began? I haven't come to any decision yet. I'm not sure I can. But it's certainly worth thinking over.
How much I'd rather think about the complex and serious issue of forgiveness rather than the state of the education system!

No Teacher Left Standing

I will never be a career teacher. I am just hoping to make it 2 years. If I can last that long.
I'll go back to school, find another profession, find another way to "make a difference." And that's unfortunate because I think I'm pretty good at teaching kids.
The running joke at our school, and I'm sure at others around the country, is the phrase "No teacher left standing" in response to the Bush administration's "No child left behind." I will not contain my feelings for the Bush Administration: they will have done more damage in 8 years in all areas of our country so that we may never recover. And education is taking the hardest hit - well, besides our environment. But this is not a Bush bashing...except to say that America should be ashamed of the way that education has fallen...and continues to fall. And I blame all of us - me and you - but mostly those in power.
I came home today in such a disappointed, frustrated rage, I had to write my feelings to you. My anger is not directed entirely at my administration, believe me, I have worked for the devil posed as a Principal so my current school is minor injury, but I'm angry at the whole system in general. There really will be "no teacher left standing" in a few years. Why would anyone put up with all of the rules, red tape and just plain crap that we have to deal with? ANY other job in the world, and it would have collapsed and filed for bankruptcy by now. Why did I go to college and get an education to have other people tell me how to do my job and give me no say in what happens? Why do people pretend to trust teachers when the bottom line is no one does? Parents constantly question our every move and are courted by administration (not my problem yet this year but certainly was in the past and happens all day long to those around me). Administrators - our direct ones and especially central office - tell us what to do all the time and never get our opinion, even though they either fled teaching themselves b/c of the crap or were never in the classroom. The state and federal governments put a requirement on us from people in the business world who have no idea what they are doing and actually limit our funding based on whatever measurement they want. None of us actually have any control over what we do and yet we are supposed to be the experts. That's what we went to school for, right?
I had the privilege of working at 2 different private schools. They both had problems, hard ones- there is no perfect place. However, the bottom line was that I actually felt like I had a say in what I taught, how I taught, what strategies I used to help my kids who were behind, what needed to be done to include a child or parent, and was asked my opinion and input in all aspects of my classroom. That was it - it was MY classroom. They were MY students, and I was viewed as the expert in MY field - teaching. I was only 22 and 23, and yet I had so much respect.
But not in the public school world. No, all teachers are idiots, and we need someone to tell us what to do every minute of the day and figure out for us how to reach students. Why don't they replace us with robots? And unfortunately, that reflects on how we treat our students. In the private school, I let them make more decisions, I involved them in the process, I asked their advise and opinion on matters. I was shown respect and grace by my "higher-ups" so in turn, I passed that same grace and respect on to my students. But in the public school world where we feel boxed in, pressured, frustrated and controlled, we tend to treat our students that way as well. I try to correct myself, but it's just natural. Instead I end up trying to control their movements...because someone, somewhere is judging me - AND PAYING ME - based on how that child does.
I don't know what the answer is completely, but I know it starts with control. Give us teachers the right to make decisions for our students. Don't fall behind the facade of "what about the bad apples?" Then don't hire them in the first place! Don't even allow those people in the profession. Don't be so desperate to have a warm body that you take someone who is not qualified.
As far as private vs. public school, trust me, I have a bleeding heart for the poor and down trodden. That is why I entered teaching in the first place. I'm sure that is what makes me a democrat. I want to help these students, so I don't want to be forced into a private school that doesn't reach these kids. But I also don't want to be a puppet. Especially when what I am being asked to do is NOT the way to help students. Just leave me alone, and LET ME TEACH!
I know that every year the schools lose good teachers. We are being driven out by those who can't let us have control. One day there will be none left standing.