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In the Words of the Children
It’s 11:00pm and I’m stuffing leftover Halloween Skittles into my mouth by the handful. I just finished the dishes after waiting an hour and a half for my kids to fall asleep. The piles of dishes from yet another mediocre meal, not because I don’t cook well but because we’ve already eaten this meal – we’ve eaten all the meals, over and over and over again since March 2020. And I’m too tired to find a new recipe and my brain is too overloaded to remember to purchase a new ingredient. And the piles of dishes from the lunch tuppers and the kids’ water bottles and the tuppers and tuppers…
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Microwaved Salad
“I decided not to eat my salad today,” my colleague says to me at lunch with a big smile. She’s eating her salad, forkful of lettuce halfway up to her mouth as she says this. I smile at her, waiting for my brain to catch her meaning. It doesn’t, so I end up just staring at her for one long second. She realizes I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Oh! You must not have been in here yet yesterday when I heated my salad.” “OH!” chimes in our other colleague. “I though you said, ‘I decided not to EAT my salad’ and I thought, isn’t she eating it…
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Impressionism
Part of my vision in starting this blog two years ago was to reclaim the joy of motherhood. I was reading so many articles on how hard it is to be a mom that I was starting to question whether we were tricking ourselves into believing, and accepting, that motherhood is a form of misery. Parenting is both joyous and hard. Hard doesn’t have to mean that something is wrong. Especially for those of us living in ridiculous amounts of privilege, it can be difficult to let ourselves admit when things feel hard. The daily grind with very young kiddos is sometimes the toughest, even when everything in your life…
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One year ago…
These were my initial reflections in the wake of George Floyd’s tragic murder and the aftermath of protests and shock on social media. In remembrance and honor of George Floyd. Working to stay engaged in the fight for racial justice, falling short, trying again… ~ Before you click Ask yourself Are you sharing information Or gaining reputation? ~ Before you share Question Do you really want to educate Or just replicate? ~ Is the hashtag trending Or merely trendy? Do your words matter To Black Lives Matter? ~ A chaotic swirl of raw emotion In your big white bubble Do you have a notion? ~ When the streets clear Will…
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Chickens
Chickens, plump and muddied, Ivory feathers stained with grey-brown shadows, Little innocent three-pronged feet sticking out Here and there in every clumsy direction. Chickens resting, chickens cooing, Chickens dying. An odor, wafting through the cars that bob along the highway, Windows cracked as the commuters Breathe their last gasps of fresh air, Before beginning their cubicled days. But the waves come fast and sudden, thick and hot. The hot air of vomit, blood, excrement and garbage. Heads turn to glimpse the putrid truck, Rumbling and ricketing down I-5. And in between the tightly woven wooden slats, Roll and jiggle and rot the chickens. Fat, broken-legged chickens, Bathed in their own…
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Here we go again
I am going to say it. Racism is playing out in front of our eyes in my school district. And most people are missing it. Last week, our district and teachers’ union reached an agreement to bring Kindergarteners and first graders back to school in-person through a hybrid model. The decision was reached after many plot turns including high pressure tactics from the Superintendent and a lawsuit filed by the union. Representatives of the union stated that the school board has been laser-focused for months on discussing one, and only one, issue: the MOU (Memorandum of Understanding – basically a contract for working conditions) for K-3. In other words, in…
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180 Degree Burden
One day, about four years ago, a student approached me at the end of class and gave me a big hug. In the moment it felt normal and natural, but it was actually quite out of the blue. In Kindergarten, this might be a common occurrence, but I teach 8th graders. To be honest, I will never really know why she gave me that hug. I remember very little about that class period. I think we had a conversation before class in which I extended grace related to making up an assignment after an extended absence. I also vaguely recall leading a class discussion related to culture and discrimination, though…
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Pretend Poetry
Take a topic, write a line, Choose the words, pretty and fine. Piece them together like a glass mosaic, The message won’t matter, the poet can fake it. In the depths of your mind, all swirled together, Lavender, beads, crystal and heather, All things beautiful, sights, sounds, touch, smell, Mix them together and no one can tell. That you made it all up, All the thoughts in your head, Bleed out from the ink, And your poem is dead.
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Click
It was true that the sunrise reflected off the mountain’s concave surface in waves of purple and pink. But superimposed in front of the mountain was a line of bodies, A perfect line along the ice cold metal railing, Each clutching a camera in a death grip, aimed defiantly at the sun. The first rays trickled slowly out from the clouds, then began to spring up at exponentially increasing speeds, And they would have blinded us all had we not been shielded by the lenses of our video recorders. The texture hidden moments before in the dark concave of the volcano came alive, Revealing polka dot spots of rocks and…
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Finding Purpose in Dark Times
Most of us have more on our plates than we can possibly deal with right now. On top of being in personal survival mode, we are surrounded by pressing global issues that, quite honestly, we probably feel compelled to do something about. A terrifyingly critical presidential election is less than two months away. Long-standing issues of racial justice are at a tipping point. Much of the country is literally on fire. It sort of feels like we are in the chokehold of the immediate needs of our family, while simultaneously drowning in the swirling sea of disaster that has become our world these past six months. How are people staying…