Another Half-Staff Flag

Here we go again
The world spins around
The flag goes up and goes back down

I didn't know what it is about a lowered flag in front of a school that brings out such strong emotions in me.  But today it hit me.  It is because that flag always comes with unanswered questions from innocent children. 

Every morning during the week, a fifth-grade student proudly rushes into the building to grab the flag and raise it on a pole in front of the school.  Often, he is so excited to do so that we have to remind him to walk.  This morning, without prompting that I am aware of, he knew where the flag needed to be.  Yesterday,  a school of 3,000 high school students and their teachers were victims and/or witnesses of a school mass shooting.  And a 10 or 11-year-old student knew about it before breakfast this morning.  It is heart-wrenching as a teacher and as mother to know that these YOUNG children cannot and should not (maybe??? I'm torn) be shielded from the events that took place yesterday.  Tragically, this could have and may one day be their story if things do not change.  So we have to prepare these young children to know what to do if "another school shooting" happens to them.  It feels like we are preparing them for a potential bomb in a time of war.  But they have to know what to do, right? 

The questions I was asked today by a group of 4th grade children were questions no one has trained me to answer.  We are rightly taught that if we don't know the answer to a question, we tell the student we don't know.  It shows them that teachers aren't perfect and we do not know everything and that is okay.  We are lifelong learners who seek to find knowledge when it is lacking.  But what about when your student asks you a question like, "why would someone walk into a school and try to kill a bunch of people?"  I can't just ask Siri that one.  I have to tell them I don't know and that there isn't a logical answer.  Not only is their teacher not perfect.  She doesn't know all the answers.  There is no way to take pride that you stumped your teacher this time.  Today they looked to me to have an answer to their deepest questions and I can't find one.  They want so desperately for me to answer them in a way that makes them comfortable, that eases their anxious fearful little minds a little bit.  But there are no words.  All I can do is say that I am so sorry that they have to feel this way.  I have to tell them it can happen anywhere.  I have to tell them we need to be prepared.  I have to tell them that this is why we tell them not to be silly during a lock-down drill.  I have to tell them it is very important to stay absolutely silent and away from the windows and doors.  I have to tell them that I will do everything in my power to keep them safe if something like that ever happens here.  Then I have to tell them that I don't know what else to say.

Every morning during assembly, right after breakfast and right before our students go to their class, we make promises to each other.  The students say:
As a student of ___________ School
I respect myself and others, too.
I'll be on task, on time, never late.
I'll make good choices
ALWAYS SAFE.
I'll be responsible for every chore.
I'm a ____________ tiger,
HEAR ME ROAR!

And the teachers reply:
As a teacher at ___________ School
I will engage every learner, everyday
In higher order thinking
Through innovative lessons
In a SAFE environment.

What happens if our pledges to each-other are not enough?  What happens if our students keep their promise to be safe, and we keep our promise to maintain a safe environment and it still isn't enough???  I pray that day never comes!!!

The First Breath After Drowning

Disclaimer…not for the faint of heart.  I just started writing.  My heart is heavy and full all at the same time.  I hope this does not come across as insensitive.  Anyone who knows me knows that my greatest strength and weakness is sensitivity.  I feel other’s pain as deeply as possible without living it...blessing and a curse.  So this may bring tears, but I hope the end brings relief like…

 

The First Breath After  Drowning

I’ve never drowned

I’ve never lost someone I love to the water

But I know some who have

And I’ve seen ones who have

And I’ve spent the last few days seeing

And feeling the weight of those who have

And I ache inside for them

I hold my breath as they fight for theirs

I sigh with relief when they take one

I fill with pride for my fellow men and women

 

Who braved the treacherous waters

To lessen the drowning

To give more seconds, or minutes, or days, or hours, or years

To those they pull from the water

I watch in heartbreaking disbelief

A whole city, several cities, a region

Slip into cold muddy water

Hours and years spent building houses

And minutes and hours and days and years

Lived in homes that will never be the same

Memories washed away in the current

Photos, treasures, collections, family keepsakes

…Things

Under inches and feet of RAINDROPS

And to those who swam to shores that were once highways

Or drifted to dry land at the water’s edge

Or lifted into helicopters in baskets

Or dragged into flat-bottom boats

Or floated on refrigerators and mattresses

Or clung to stop signs and telephone poles

The lucky ones whose heavy hearts didn’t sink them

They may never feel dried of the floodwaters again

But they have another chance to take another breath

To live another life

A better life

To find more joy because of the pain they will carry

To share the courage and strength that was shared with them

With others during their storms

I pray that the water on their souls that may never dry

Only brings them a greater purpose

A reason to fight harder than the current

A reason to love deeper than the floodwaters

A reason to flow as peacefully as the receding tide

A reason to speak words that were once muffled

A reason to swim the rocky waters



Not all were gifted with the dramatic rescue

The crowd of those left behind were blessed with something

FAR GREATER

Their first breath after drowning was heavenly

It was perfection

And will be forevermore

The muddy waters were instantly dried

They were met with instant warmth from the cold

Infinite joy abounded

Their party wasn’t a heavyhearted celebration

But a never-ending fiesta

They weren’t yanked ashore by rescuers

But ushered in by a shepherd

Who led them to STILL WATERS

Refreshing to their soul

Their first warm meal

Was a banquet

They needed no blanket to warm cold bones

They were wrapped in clouds of grace

And arms of love

And joy abounding

And waves of mercy

And waves of grace

Their first breath after drowning

Was weightless!

What a blessing that will be.

Best laid plans...

My dear friend just wrote a post about what it feels like to teach future generations of young people (If any of my students are reading this, that is what you are so stop complaining that a teacher is calling you that. It is a term of endearment.) Go read what she said before you read what I said....

https://molleeshannon.wordpress.com/2015/11/05/making-bootstraps-out-of-bare-feet/

Seriously...read before you proceed!

I have taught far too many "Sadies" than I would like to believe in just five years of teaching.  They have different stories. Their baggage is different.  Their pain originates from different circumstances. Their stereotypes have different lingos.  They speak a different language.  Their yo is a y'all and their glock is a rifle. They come from different types of "rough neighborhoods." The thorn in their side comes from a different vine. But the stories are the same...empty plates, absent fathers, incarcerated mothers, pain that is driven to addictions, insecurity that breeds disorders, neglect that leads to rebellion.  

I tell these students to turn their circumstances into motivation to succeed. The question is, will that success be enough to change the direction of their future? I sure as heck hope so...and pray so...and NEED so.

I would love to say that teaching them is a joy, that I love going to work every day. At times that is true. But it is also painful and exhausting at other times.  Seeing progress in these students is exhilarating.  My heart races when I see something has finally "clicked" in those hardened minds. Sadly, I must admit that often a voice whispers, "I hope the world doesn't break them."  And I do that often, I hope. And I pray. And I love them. Because what else is there to do but love them and teach them?

And hope and pray that my lessons and prayers will be enough.

PS-Now let me say this before I get hate mail: this is not just about the small town that I teach in. I am not saying that this is every child I teach. I am not even saying that this is the majority of my students.  There are amazing parents and hard-working families whose love comes in the form of taking on every extra shift they can get to provide for their families and wishing they could be home more than they are.  There are many students who go home to stable happy homes filled with love and enrichment and home-cooked meals. Many students come to school with full bellies and hearts, eager to learn and take the world by storm. More power to ya...that was me, too. But it is this other group of students that weighs heavy on my heart at night because they don't have all of those things.  

And I say y'all, too, it was just a play on words. I'm not hating. This is my community I'm writing about. I'm raising my kids here, too.  I just pray that somewhere along the way something or someone figures out how to ensure that hard work and determination and dedication lead to some form of success for EVERY CHILD...EVERYWHERE...not just in my tiny corner of rural America.

What I'm Listening to...Wednesday

Sometimes when I can't hear God speaking, I hear him sing over me.  Sometimes I have a hard time putting into words what my heart is saying.  So I sing to him words others have sang to him before.  Sometimes I hurt for the world and become numb to the stories on the news.  And it takes somber songs to help me feel again. 

Just to give you a peek into my day at school...here is what it looks like.  Our school has 5 classes a day.  When I don't have paperwork stacked up to my neck...which is the case most days...here is what my schedule is supposed to look like:
1st Block-I go into an English 10 or English 11 classroom, and provide a helping hand to students who need a little extra time.
2nd Block-Sometimes English 11 and sometimes working on paperwork in my classroom.  This is a classroom that is shared with another teacher.  She teaches 10 students an online math course.  So this paperwork I have to complete must be completed with 10 restless chatty teenagers in my room. 
3rd Block-I teach a reading and writing intervention class.  However, oftentimes this becomes a homework help session.  Frequently, my lessons are replaced with another teacher's lesson.  But hey, they have to pass their other classes too.
4th Block-This is my "planning" block.  Most days, other teachers send their students my way during this time to read their tests to them.  This is part of my job, so no complaints here.  Somewhere during this block I also have to find time to eat.  Most of the time this is bites between test questions. 
5th Block-English 10...helping out the teachers and kiddos.

Second block on paperwork days is my time to drown out the noise (and the students' not so quiet voices of not so pleasant conversations).  So I flip on my Jesus station on Pandora and let it pick what song I want to hear.  But today I had a feeling it was God picking my songs, not some random computer program.

The first song that caught my attention was "This, Too Shall Be Made Right" by Derek Webb
I recently wrote another blog post about this song, but up it popped again.  If you would like to read that post, click here.

"People love you the most for the things you hate
And hate you for loving the things you can't keep straight
People judge you on a curve
And tell you you're getting what you deserve
And this too shall be made right

Children cannot learn when children cannot eat
Stack them like lumber when children cannot sleep
Children dream of wishing wells
Who's waters quench all the fires of hell
And this too shall be made right

The earth and the sky and the sea are all holding their breath
Wars and abuses have nature growing with death
You say we're just trying to stay alive
It looks so much more like a way to die

And this too shall be made right

Yes, there's a time for peace, there is a time for war
There's a time to forgive and a time to settle the score
A time for babies to lose their lives
A time for hunger and genocide
And this too shall be made right

Oh, I don't know the sufferings of people outside my front door
And I join the oppressors of those I choose to ignore
I'm trading comfort for human life
And that's not just murder, it's suicide
And this too shall be made right"

This hit way too close to home.  It seems that this world of darkness and hate and pain are closing in.  They are getting way too close to home.  I try not to watch the news.  I know, as a teacher, I should stay up to date on current events.  I could really care less.  I would rather tuck my head in my turtle shell and stay in my happy bubble with my amazing husband who I adore and adores me,

and our entertaining "why"-asking two-year-old,

 and our newly-giggling three-month-old.





 But despite the fact that I rarely turn on the evening news, I know...
-Twenty men were arrested in Chattanooga for involvement in child sex trafficking.
-Gang violence in downtown Chattanooga has increased to the point that the Chattanooga Times Free Press has created a database of individuals murdered there since 2011.  And all that people seem to be focusing on is the fact that Mohammed Abdulazeez found his way on to that list.  He is on a list of "justified murders."  I am pretty sure murder isn't the right word for that situation, but people seem to be missing the point.  That list is HUGE...currently at 113, with 22 of the murders happening just in the last 10 months!  That's the point.  The point is that we should shed tears over the massive number of lives lost, most at the hands of gang violence.
-An unidentified body was found in my town.
-There was a shooter at the little league park in my hometown where my little brother used to play baseball.
-School shootings are STILL happening.
-College sports recruiters are paying for strippers and sex for recruits to help draw potential athletes to their program.
-Smoking, that had recently become less widespread, has become more popular and excepted among a whole new generation of teenagers.
-Drugs are rampant.

Then came the song "Wedding Dress," also by Derek Webb.  This song was written to his maker.

If you could love me as a wife
And for my wedding gift your life

           God gave his life as our wedding gift.  It doesn't get much better than that.
Should that be all Ill ever need
Or is there more I'm looking for

And should I read between the lines
And look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich and wise
Is that really what you want

'Cause I am a whore, I do confess
I put you on just like a wedding dress
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle

Or Im a prodigal with no way home
I put you on just like a ring of gold
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle to you

          That's what we do, I guess I can only speak for myself. That's what I do.  I am so excited be his bride. I can't wait to get down the aisle and jump into his arms.  I am excited to be his.  Then I turn to other lovers.  My eyes stray and my feet wander.  I lose my way.  Then I throw on my white dress (it's white because he washed it) and run to him again.

So could you love this bastard child

          And each time I run to him, I run to him slower.  I go to him ashamed.  I am weighted down by my sin and think, "how could he still love me?"  But he does.  And he marries me all over again.  We were never divorced.  But in my heart I feel that way.  So we renew our vows.  He makes the same unbroken promises all over again.  And I make promises we both know I will break. 
Though I dont trust you to provide

          He always provides.  But I still get scared.
 With one hand in a pot of gold
And with the other in your side

'Cause I am so easily satisfied
By the call of lovers so less wild

          I get content with the beautiful earthly things he has given me and forget the masterpiece I can find in him.

But money cannot buy
A husbands jealous eye

          "He is jealous for me.  His love's like a hurricane.  I am a tree bending beneath the weight of his love and mercy."  I want to run down the aisle and not let go of his hand.  It's not quite as easy as it sounds.

Both these songs were heavy.  Bittersweet.  Honest.  Raw.

And God knew what I needed when the next two songs came on..."My Beloved," by Kari Jobe.

You're my beloved, you're my bride
To sing over you is my delight
Come away with me my love

Under my mercy come and wait
Till we are standing face to face
I see no stain on you my child

          He thinks I'm perfect just the way I am.

You're beautiful to me
So beautiful to me

I sing over you my song of peace

          First he played me songs that left me with pain and bitterness and shame and fear and sadness.  Then he SANG OVER me his song of PEACE.  He played in like a lion and serenaded out like a lamb.
Cast all your care down at my feet
Come and find your rest in me

          REST...

I'll breathe my life inside of you
I'll bear you up on eagle's wings
And hide you in the shadow of my strength

I'll take you to my quiet waters

          QUIET...
 I'll restore your soul

          RESTORATION...
Come rest in me and be made whole

You're my beloved, you're my bride
To sing over you is my delight
Come away with me my love

First he sang to me truth, then he revealed to me my sin, then he sang over me peace and forgiveness and love, then he danced with me...the dance in the kitchen in your socks kind of dance.

At the end of the block my students got to see me with headphones stuck in my ears rocking out to this Jesus song...this time I was smiling.  "Lay Em Down," by Needtobreathe

Come down to the river
Come and let yourself in
Make good on a promise
To never hurt again
If you're lost and lonely
You're broken down
Bring all of your troubles
Come lay 'em down

All you sinners
And the weak at heart
All you helpless
On the boulevard
Wherever you are now
Whatever evil you've found
Bring all of your troubles
come lay 'em down

We're all tied to the same old failings
Finding shelter in things we know
We're all dirty like corrupted small towns
Bring our troubles
Bring our troubles
And Lay 'em down

All you rich men
And the high above
All those with and without love
All you burdened, broken down
Bring all of your troubles
Come lay 'em down
 

Thank Jesus for speaking to me through my headphones this morning.

I'm laying em down.

July 2015...BITTER...SWEET

On this, the 20th day of July, the year 2015, I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually OVERWHELMED!  This month has been a whirlwind for my country, my city, my family, and me. And none of us will ever be the same again, for better or for worse, and my prayer is for the former.
July 1st- the first day of the month of my due date for my second son. He was due to make his appearance on July 29th.
Needless to say, he wasn't willing to wait.

July 4th-a day our country celebrates freedom, and the day my son, Patten Turner Strauss, decided to join in on the festivities.

July 5th-Some friends and family came to meet Little Patten. He was alert and cuddly and cute and everything a one-day old baby should be. We told our son, Shea, that his new baby brother would be going to "Shea's house" tomorrow because all indications pointed in that direction. 

July 6th- Due to extreme exhaustion on the part of my husband and I (I had essentially been in labor and in and out of the hospital for at least a week), we took advantage of the nursury services offered by the hospital. We sent him off to the nursury so we could sleep a couple of hours at a time between feedings. It is hospital policy that all babies that are born before 37 weeks gestation must have a car-seat test. He was born at 36 weeks and 4 days. This is where they put the baby in the car seat for an hour and monitor their heart rate and respiration. As we slept, they strapped him into the car seat. It quickly became clear to the nurses he was not going to pass the test. His respiration rate went up over 100 breaths per minute. My husband and I were woken up by a nurse we had never met telling us our 2-day-old son had just been admitted to the NICU. This is what we saw when we walked in to see our little guy.

July 7th-

July 8th-

Later that day...

Fast forward to July 16th- On the way home from lunch and shopping with my mother-in-law and my two boys, I got a call from my husband who was working a kids summer camp at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. He said to go straight home and turn on the news but he didn't know any details. All he knew was there was an active shooter in downtown Chattanooga. I am sure you are aware of the shootings that happened in Chattanooga where 4 marines and one sailor lost their lives and many others put their lives on the line to make sure no more innocent people died at the hands of evil. They happened just a few miles from where my husband was working. We later learned that the shooter went to the same college as us at the same time. He was, up until the time of the shooting, living on the same street where my mom grew up.

Click here to listen to this beautiful song.

Today, July 19th-

As I sit in the comfort of my home and watch my boys play beside each other on the floor and type this post with my husband beside me on the couch, I can't help but be grateful for all that I have. I can't help but take a sigh of relief that we were not in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can't help but think about and pray for and hurt for those that no longer have their husbands, or sons, or fathers beside them. I can't help but worry about the mounting threats of more terrorism in the coming hours and days and years. I can't help but be sad at the state of the world that will be the expected norm to my boys if nothing changes. I can't help but pray that my boys be a part of a generation that turns from fear to peace, from doubt to hope, and from hate to love. I pray that my husband and I will find the words to say when our sons ask the hard questions like why did this happen, who could do something like this, why is life so hard, and why do bad things happen to good people? I pray this because these are answers I am seeking myself.

But through all of this sadness there is one thing I know...in the end all that matters is LOVE.

1 Corinthians 13: 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.