leaving the flock

Today, my heart was touched by a student. He is in the severely handicapped class. Deeply autistic. Locked inside himself, surrounded by a world that is fast-moving, confusing, and often frightening.

I was taking both 3rd grade classes to PE. Our campus has security fences (don't even get me started) around the entire school, so for our class to get out to the track, I have to unlock one of the gates. When we arrived, there was this lone student, from the SpEd class. I looked around, searching for the rest of his class. But the kids and teacher were nowhere to be seen. This was extremely unusual, because these students are under constant supervision, and someone is always holding their hand when they go anywhere.

I was trying to get the gate unlocked, and my little friend was making strange yipping noises. No words, no eye contact. I wasn't sure if the noises were stressful or gleeful. But, I knew he wanted out/in. I finally got the gate unlocked, and took him by the hand. I knew that this could go one of two ways. I was a stranger to him, unless somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he had me filed as a teacher. Taking his hand could send him into flight mode, and then I'd have a runner on my hands. Luckily, he allowed me to hold his hand. Actually, he seemed to be bothered by hand to hand contact. I held his wrist. He resisted a little bit, but I believe that he "knew" I was okay.

I had 32 other students with me. My aide had gone ahead to set up the activity in the gym. Something in the other kids registered that this was not the time to riot. Something told them that I had to give all my attention to this little boy. So, both 3rd grade classes walked with me, while I decided what to do.

I walked him to the gym, looking for his class. The gym was empty. He stayed with me, pulling a few times, but I gently held on to him; loose enough to allow him some space, but firm enough to keep him close. Then I felt something. I felt him holding MY hand. He was holding on to me too. We had personal contact! My aide returned, so I left him with the "flock", while I took the one lone sheep back to his own meadow. We walked quietly, and without thought or plan, I hummed to him. We walked together, me soothingly humming, this quiet little guy at my side.

I felt like walking on and on, holding hands, void of conversation. I stroked the top of his head and whispered, "It's alright." He seemed so fragile and so gentle. As we approached his classroom, his teacher and the aide were just coming out of the room. The aide looked pretty rattled. She'd had "a runner" and she'd darted off after that one, while this little guy wandered. She thanked me and took his other hand. I felt him hold on to my hand more tightly. He pulled me with him, until the aide released his hand from mine. I wanted to stay with him. I wanted to go to class with him and watch his day. But, my flock was waiting.

flu report

So far, so good. I must have just been overly tired last Friday. Still taking Vitamin C everyday, drinking Airborne when I think of it, and yesterday bought zinc to add to the growing meal of vitamins. My collegues laugh at my cup of vitamins I have with lunch.... B1, Vit.C, calcium, magnesium, fish oil, osteo biflex... I spend more time downing the supplements than I spend eating my lunch.

Weather is supposed to drop a good chunk today. Everyone was getting irritated with the extended heat. Am I the only person who remembers that September is NOT fall weather? Everyone is always so surprised when the weather stays hot through September!! October has a wonderful personality, very tempermental. October does whatever the hell it feels like doing. October does not box itself in, it is not predictable. I like October.

flu outbreak

Our school has been plagued with "the flu". Our school nurse thinks it's the H1N1. Whatever it is, it's knocking 'em down hard. I had 5 kids sick, and none of them were back in fewer than 4 days. One first grade teacher has had 12 out of 22 hit with it! I think about 25% of our students have been sick this past week and a half. One 1st grade class coined a new term... the "handitizer"... the hand sanitizer dispsenser that has now been installed in each classroom!! The term makes perfect sense, doesn't it??

Presently, I'm not feeling so hot. I'm not exactly sure if I'm plain old tired or the "beginning of something" tired. I really want to go to bed, but I'm afraid. I don't want those aches and flu things to start picquing during the night, while I'm trying to find my deep, comforting slumber. So, I'm staying up until I can no longer keep my eyes open (which presently feels like only 7 minutes). Then, I'll drag myself, eyes half mast, droopy-armed, to bed and flop.

I also know that, traditionally, I get sick sometime during the end of September. I don't know if it's my annual "Attack of the New Group" germfest, when my body has to build new immunities to the current class... or.... a seasonal, valley thing. But, more Septembers than not, I get sick. I try not to. I take vitamin C. I get to bed early. I eat as well as I can (okay, I could probably eat better). I took Airborne tonight. I wash my hands a LOT. And I try to not breathe when kids are around. That one's tough.

I really don't want to be sick. The worst part is having to create lesson plans for a sub for more than one day. I hate doing lesson plans for subs!! Really hate it. Most teachers do. We'll go to work sick, rather than create lesson plans... they're such a pain.

I'm tired enough now. I'm going to bed. I'm going to take a crystal to bed and tuck it under my pillow. Strength. Can't hurt. Damn... and I was planning on getting my first flu shot this Wednesday!

token post

I've come here a number of times, with the intent to post something. I guess, lately, I've just felt flat and uninspired to share any thoughts, feelings, or experiences. I'm without expression.

Honestly, I'm working very hard, mentally, to avoid this school year from sucking the life out of me. It's turning out to be difficult. Yes and no, the kids aren't the easiest bunch to teach. Extremely distractable and immature. If I knew I could wait it out, because during the school year, they'll mature (somewhat), and after some maturing, I could do some SUPER teaching, I'd be a bit more relaxed. But, testing pressures, or should I say, SCORING pressures, has done a real number on squeezing a lot of joy out of this job. The powers that be don't seem to acknowledge that their scoring goals are measuring real life children. I don't have time to wait for nature. I have to CREATE a new, testable nature! I have to push against the nature for some of these kids. Oh, and believe me, some of them will push back.

I'm already stressing out. I'm trying to stay calm, find the middle where I can hold on to my own philosophies, values, and truths, yet work at producing what is required of my students and me.

I'm stressed that it is early Monday morning, and the thought of a new week is tiring me out, already.

I need to breathe.

I'm going to take a bath this morning. Do a little mind traveling.

I want to stay home and hide.

My annoying disorder

This is not a medical disorder. It's more of an OCD disorder. I've just recently noticed myself doing this, and I have no idea how long I've been doing it. I'm aware of it, yet I still do it. Okay..... here it is. I hum "The Chicken Dance" when I'm in the shower, and while I'm getting ready in the morning. Why do I do this?!?!?! When did this start, and WHY the chicken dance?!!??

It gets worse. I not only hum the chicken dance, but I hum it in a cheesy, lounge singer style. Ugh! Really, I do this. I hate it. It's never another song. It happens. Every day. Every shower. I have no idea how long ago this started, but it's completely annoying. I do it, subconsciously, until I become consciously aware of it. I've TRIED to change tunes, but for some reason, this is the tune that keeps me moving through my morning routine.

Crap. The chicken dance??? THE CHICKEN DANCE?!?!? Are you kidding me???

California Adventure

Cathy,

Search Ojai, California. I think this is where we need to explore together. I haven't been there, but I feel like I need to go there with you in October. We can travel along the coast, pretend we're California explorers, and continue our journey of imagination. Are you game?

Opening Day

Yesterday was opening day of dove season. This was the biggest day of the year in our family, when Anthony was here. There was great preparation the night before, then awake at 4 am on September 1, to meet up with the other hunters, for a day of shooting and testosterone spiked camraderie.

It was hysterical to watch the dogs go crazy, simply at the sight of Anthony taking out the guns. Yogi especially. When Anthony entered the living room with gun in tow, Yogi would run back and forth, from living room to garage door. He knew what that gun meant, and he loved hunting with Anthony. He was a tireless dog, willing to push it as long as Anthony wanted to hunt. Missy, on the other hand, wasn't as enthusiastic a hunter. Anthony said she was more distracted by the other dogs, and behaved as if she really didn't like carrying birds in her mouth. Hello, Missy!!! You're a weimaraner!!! You're bred for this!!! Oh well.

Anthony was also the camp chef for all the men, so the night before opening day, I was his prep chef. As he got his guns ready, vest packed with shotgun shells, and ice chest cleaned, I was cutting Monterey Jack cheese into small cubes, only big enough to fit into the breast of a dove. De-seeding jalapenos, careful not to rub my eye during the process. The first year I did this, I quickly learned it was important to wear gloves, because the juice ate away at the tips of my fingers until they were raw. I cut pounds and pounds of bacon into 4 inch slices, peeled garlic cloves and packed everything into tidy plastic containers that would travel to a location unknown to me.

The alarm would go off sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 am... I would make sure Anthony was awake, then stay awake long enough to wave from the garage door as he drove off with Rocky and Jake, almost in giggles... THEM, not me!!! My favorite part of opening day, was closing the garage door behind them, and knowing I would have a day of quiet to myself.

Jake was always a part of this annual adventure, and learned to look forward to it and revel in it as much as his dad. In fact, the first opening day, after Anthony had died, it warmed my heart at the number of men who called here for Jake, to be sure he was included in the event, and had a place to hunt. Even more than that, Jake insisted we get all the ingredients because HE was going to take over his dad's role as the chef. So, for Jake, I sliced bacon, cubed cheese, deseeded jalapenos, and peeled garlic. I was so proud of him.

Anthony took Jake dove hunting the first time when Jake was only 3 1/2. We didn't have any of our hunting dogs yet, so I think he was going to teach Jake to "retrieve." He told Jake to pick up the bird, carry it to the bucket, and put it into the bucket. As Jake was carrying it, he kept saying to his dad, "It wants to fly!" Anthony assured Jake the bird no longer wanted to fly, but Jake said it a couple more times. When Jake put the bird into the bucket, lo and behold, it flapped a couple of times, then fluttered it's way out of there!!! LOL I guess Anthony had only stunned it, yet Jake did as his dad instructed, even though the bird was trying to fly away from him!

Jake went out yesterday, as his own man. This year he did not join his dad's croonies. This year, Jake had his own invitation from someone who owns "good" property. Jake came over to get the shotgun out of our gun safe. This year, I did not go with Jake so he could buy his hunting license or shells. This year, Jake hunted as his own man. And, I knew not to call him last night, because he would be asleep. Exhausted from getting up at 4 am to be out in the field as the sun rose.

I hope Anthony watched his son. His "best boy" as he always called him. His man.