We Shall Not Forget...Pass It On

The sky is still filled with stars when I wake up. As I drag my booty out of bed, I'm already mentally working on the lesson plans for the day, how I want them to unfold, and what connections they will make, so that my kiddos can begin to see the overlap of just about everything in life. I had forgotten what a joyously exhausting process all of this can be.

The sky is turning shades of pink, as I make the drive to the place where all the short humans gather, with their sharpened pencils, notes to pass to that cute "someone", and heads full of dreams. I crank the music loud in my car, knowing it will help chase the last of sleep from my tired bones. Trust me, you don't bring anything less than your "A-Game" to a classroom of students or they will eat you alive!

My day flies by in this wild blur, and even though I do basically the same lessons to three separate classes, it is always different. Today, our focus was on 9/11. Most of the students didn't have a clue of the significance, which threw me totally off my game. On September 11, 2001, I was getting ready for work when the first plane hit the first tower in New York City. My husband was active duty Air Force and our base went on lockdown. I struggled over breakfast, trying to decide if I should send our daughters to school, all the while knowing I couldn't stay away from my own students. The other "first" that year...teaching. It felt like the world was going crazy and we were all just along for the ride, so flashing forward to 15 years in the future, I couldn't even fathom this group who were completely unaware of such a monumental event. Then it hit me. None of them were even born the day that happened.

I gently walked three classes of kids through a day that still made me choke up with emotion. We watched a video from PBS.org...Six Word Memoirs. I couldn't read the three Memoirs aloud, too filled with raw emotion, so the students read them for me....the first, from a brother of a Firefighter Captain at Engine Company 21, who radioed to his men, "Keep going, I'm right behind you." Except, he wasn't, and lost his life that day. The second, a young wife whose husband was on one of the planes that crashed into the Twin Towers, her six word memoir, "Grief opened the gates of compassion." In the aftermath of her loss, she found a way to connect to women in Afghanistan, and helped build the only Women's Center there (as of 2011). The final story, "Our loved ones are finally home," was delivered by a young woman whose husband was working in one of the Towers. His remains were never found, so she doggedly helped in the process of building the memorial that stands at the site today. And when she's there, she feels as if her husband has come "home." Each story summed up by six little words, and my students got the message, words have power! We spent what was left of their time with me talking about how their own voices can have power, too. I promised to teach them how to bring that power to light, work their magic, and I swear as I sit here typing, I will NOT let them down.

My own words have been missing from this site for several weeks. Just know that when I am "absent" from this place, it is because I have poured so much of me elsewhere, I am barely able to collect my own thoughts at the end of the day when it is done. I did want to include an update on the ol' mountain man...the chemo is helping buy him precious time. How much? Nobody knows. But considering a month ago he was at death's door and now he's having more quality days than he did in the last four years, we'll take it! Thank you to all of you who have been doggedly supportive of me and my family. It is most appreciated.