Week 16.

• This week we only got to take 10 tomatoes, which is a good thing, because I can’t eat 20 tomatoes no matter how tasty they are in one week and I am not a fan of freezing them either.
• Yard beans-anyone know what to do with them?
• Yellow beans (these might be wax beans)-whatever, they are tasty roasted.
• okra (for my niece)
• cayenne peppers
• and that purple pepper that turns red when it is done, but aren’t they pretty
• more squash
• more basil
• more garlic  (i have enough garlic to ward off Vampire Bill for weeks, if only that worked) 

Veggie Dave (the owner of Field 51, our CSA) says that I am the only one that likes the Yellow Tomatoes…So I took a TON of them.

Now, I must go and eat them.

I just really don’t appreciate birth control ads in my feminine hygiene isle!

And the guy who named this one seasonique needs to be taken out back-It is the 4 cycle a year pill.
Seriously would you want to take any medication that was a pun???

I am not a huge fan of oral contraceptives any way-for the ways they mess with your body-but this is just beyond all.

My son has a favorite teacher.  His 3rd and 4th grade teacher, Miss P.  Actually, my whole family loves this woman.  She makes such an impact in his life.

STILL.

She is one of those teachers that makes teaching great.
She chose to leave an “easy” job in one of the wealthiest areas of our state to teach in the inner city.  Where every kid needs her, every day.

The begining of the summer the 14 yr old and I had lunch with her and she told us about her kids.  She told us how 5th grade graduation is celebrated like the prom.  These kids go all out, snazzy dresses and 3 piece suits.

Why? I asked.
Because, their parents know most of them won’t see another graduation.  5th grade.
FIFTH GRADE.
They will have babies, they will go to jail, they will join a gang and just drop out.

She told us that the school security guard won’t chase people off the property who break into the dumpster, it is that dangerous.
Yet, she is down there, every day.
She has had security escorts to her car because she made one of the parents angry.
She has had threats, more than once.
Yet, she is down there, every day.
She also is one of the most loved and most requested teachers in that school.
She is one of those teachers that makes teaching great.

So, we are having lunch and she was telling us stories about these kids and my heart was breaking.
And my 14 yr old, he wants to do something about it.
He wants to help.
So, help, he did.

Before school started he (and I) took a trunk load of school supplies to her classroom.
Here is the email I got after the first day of school (names have been changed)

OH MY….I know that I can’t even put into words what a difference you made at school today!!!
Unbelievable…But I have to try and share…

Scenerio:
Most kids are walking into their new classroom with backpacks, supplies, chatter etc. “Where’s my desk? Where do I put my things?…Where are my friends?”

In walks T…’Mean-muggin” all the way. His face is angry…his arms are folded…he won’t speak and slouches into his chair. “I hate being here…I hate this…I hate life in general…I hate you.” That’s the body language says….and I’m reading the same thing on a quite a few of my new ‘crew’.

Of course, one of the first things we do is find out how to ‘organize’ and put our supplies in the right places. Make our space our own…T is hating all of this. He has a folder he borrowed from someone and a notebook on top of his desk…just so it doesn’t look like he has nothing…nothing…

Mean-muggin’ bad time…shooting daggers to kill…

I continue, as you know I do so well….but I introduce our “New” Supply Store!! I continue to tell them that I know they have supplies on the way, but I want to make sure everyone has everything they need on the FIRST day…so…(my hope-to-be brilliant idea) we have an IOU system at our store…

Pause — the IOU system…I tell them that I don’t give things away for free (which is what many of them expect). I told them that they may borrow from the store and earn the right to own. However, earning isn’t in $$$ value. They checked out at the store with their name and what they were ‘borrowing’ and I would let them know the plan to ‘own’. — This is a great incentive throughout the first month(s)…responsible behavior, errands, kindness, ’special’ jobs, playing with someone that they don’t know…etc. Each time I see these positive behaviors they privately ‘earn’ one of their supplies.

If they do bring in supplies throughout the week(s) they may trade or donate to the “store”.

Back to T…this boy’s attitude made a 180 degree change in 30 min. All of the sudden, he was happy — talking to kids in his table group (team)…and loving his first day at school. Writing labels and his name on folders, notebooks, brand new school supplies. He was no longer….different, unprepared and ‘without’….

16….yes 16 of my 28 students shopped at the “supply store” today. That’s 16 lives impacted today.
My eyes are teary just remembering.

I am still an ‘academic’/grade teacher, but I have ,over the years ,begun to think of myself as a teacher of not only content — but resilience. There are so many aspects of these kids’ lives they can’t control….and I have to teach them to not use their environment as an excuse — but use strategies to become resilient and overcome their circumstances with choices they CAN control. This is my mission — and often times, battle.

Something as simple as the “Supply Store” (although I know you had to sacrifice to donate $$$ — that was not simple) made such a huge impact in my students’ lives toward building resiliency. The first step on the First day — be comfortable in the environment where you will learn and want to learn. Be (and feel) prepared.

I know I may be rambling…I’m just so greatful for what you did. I wish you could have seen their faces…and the ease and stress of ‘not having’ disappear. It was beautiful.

And BTW…T walked by me after he labeled all his supplies (like he was going to the garbage can) and said quietly, “Thank you Miz P…” That’s it, right there —

Please share this story with “the 14 yr old”. I want him to know how his compassion has impacted the lives of many young 4th graders in my school. So far….far away. Maybe make HIM think forward…:-)

I did share that story with my 14 yr old and he wants to do more.  I am so proud of my kid and the compassion he does have.  It makes my heart swell with pride.  I know when I was his age, it never would have occurred to me that something so simple as spending a few dollars on supplies (when they are so cheap before school) could make such a difference in lives.

Next year we are going to try to do more…maybe get enough for her supply closet to expand down the hall-or throughout the school.

I was at Target tonight and I noticed that they still have supplies really cheap and they are starting to put the more expensive items on clearance.  Maybe there is a teacher in your area that could use a few packs of pens, paper and glue-maybe it is in your own school.

Or maybe it is just offering a bit of service to a teacher who has changed your kids life.

Really!
Ok, me, not so much.

But the 14 yr old is.  His middle name is flexible, just no one ever told me.  I always thought it was something more traditional.  This season marks the 9th year my son has played soccer.  By now, I would have thought I had seen it all-and done it all in the realm of soccer parentage.

Guess not!
Because this season, my baby, my one and only child spawn is a keeper for the HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR VARSITY TEAM.   It pains me to even type it.

He is a fantastic player (if I do say so myself) and he will do anything coach asks of him on the field, which is how my son got me into this mess (this mess of parental sideline tums addiction).  Something like “so coach, I will play keep until you get someone to do it full time!” so he is.

Did I mention he hasn’t done this since he was 9.  Do I need to mention there is a world of difference between playing keeper when you are NINE and when you are in the NINTH grade?  Well, there is!

Many keepers are over six feet tall, my 14 yr old is 5′7″.

His first game was earlier this week.  He did not get scored on once.
Not Once.

I am proud of him.
He is really pretty good at this gig.

Maybe at tomorrows game I can watch it with my hands in my lap instead of over my eyes.

(ok, not really, I take pictures of the whole game…so that was a small fib)

Most people have a Summer Reading list…
I guess I did too, but it dwindled down to almost nothing and I had a “book poor” panic attack.

There is something comforting for me to have a HUGE stack of stuff to read on my night stand.

And right now, I have TWO!

The first is my “every night” stack-that I work on a bit every night…

The second one is my alarm clock holder upper!

I usually have my “to read” pile in the order of purchase…this is close to being right except Lose It for Life
was bought on vacation-I wanted to go ahead and read it because I HAVE GOT TO get back on the healthy track!

What is on your night stand these days?

Part 1- Something Lost can be read here.

I do think what happened on that day set me on a very self destructive path.  If you asked me why I did the things I did, the only answer I had was “It’s fun.”

How tragic,  I believed that to be true.

I lived that way for years, doing whatever I wanted because I thought it was fun.  I now believe that it was more of a survival mechanism-do ANYTHING you can to keep from thinking about the things you have done.  Wow, what a destructive cycle.  It would be romantic to say that when my son was born all of that changed.  But, that isn’t completely true.

I replaced some bad habits with others…When you have an addictive personality, wow-the things that can numb your mind aren’t always overtly destructive.

But, I did NOT want to end up here.
Telling everyone in the world (or who stumbles across my corner of the net)
That I am not perfect.  I have been embarassed, shamed, filled with guilt.
Even over things out of my control.
I had no control.  (I have to have control)

I tried to control what happened to me in the pool years ago with newly formed bad habits and anger and hate.
Oh, lots of anger and hate.
In my mind, anger and hate was the same as power (and control).

Isn’t it funny how our human minds can believe some of this garbage.

So, why now? After twenty someting years, why bring this up now?
Because, God won’t let me hold on to it any more.
At night and in my spare time I have been reading Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman’s Soul and working through the guided journal.

I have tried to do studies like this in the past and when I got to the hard part, suddenly life got in the way.  I was to busy to mess with all that.  And I would gain 20 lbs.   I am not letting myself off the hook this time.

I now believe that both the boys and girls heard about how protestant were wild sexual beasts so that they would all grow up and marry in their faith.  I was the only “wild sexual beast” any of them knew!  I don’t think their actions were done with malice, I think they were extremely curious. I also bet that not a one of them would remember what happened on that day because it didn’t traumatize them.  It took a really long time but, I have forgiven the kids who were involved in the incident that day.

Not for them. For me.

I can’t really say innocence because I don’t think that was it.  I had kissed a boy maybe two and that might have contributed to the problem.  At least that is what I told myself.

I have lived in the same neighborhood for 35 of my almost 41 years.  I talk to people I went to school with on a regular basis and not just on facebook either.  I am still very much of the community that shaped me, both good and bad.  This is one of the reasons there are several things we just don’t talk about.  This is probably one of those things.
I also feel like I need to say that this is my memory, I know I am human and that memories are elastic, details become fuzzy.

But, it has been on my heart for awhile to let go of somethings and I think this is one of them.  That became very clear last week.

My son has a friend that loves to pester him, sometimes I think he wants to get in a fight.  Last week he called one of my son’s very dear friends a “ho”.  Under normal circumstances that might have made me angry, but last week, I went a little insane.  I had to think long and hard about my reaction, I am involved in my sons life, but now I know I have gone over the edge when I start telling my son what to say back to that “bleep” “bleep” kid.

God didn’t make me wait to long to figure it out.  Things started falling into place rather rapidly.  First it was a blog post by Missy @ it’s almost naptime.  She mentioned how a recent event threw her back, emotionally to an event from her childhood.

BINGO!  We have a winner.

When I was 13, the boys in my neighborhood, THIS neighborhood thought the same thing about me.  I had barely kissed a boy, just happened that he was a part of this crew.  They all went to school together.  One summer day my best friend (who also went to school with these boys) invited me to a pool party with them.  I think there were five or six guys and probably five girls, counting me.

We were playing some game like Marco Polo-or not, some how I ended up on one end of the pool with all the boys and all the girls were on the other, watching.  Before I was fully aware of what was happening they had my legs and my arms restrained.

My bathing suit was being pulled down.
I was screaming and kicking and fighting.
They were poking and pinching and laughing.
And the girls, sat back and watched.

Not one of them came to my rescue.
Not one to my aid.
Not even the woman who owned the house where we were swimming.
I know she was there, somewhere.

I remember looking over at them screaming for help and my best friend, smirked.  Another girl said something about ‘being quiet, don’t act like I don’t like it, they ALL knew I did.”

I wanted to die.
My own mother hadn’t seen me naked in years and now everyone in my neighborhood had.

I think I finally kicked one of them hard enough for him to break his grip on my leg and then I was able to beat the rest of them away.  I ran all the way home.

Crying.
Broken.
not just because of that those boys tried to take from me, but because my own “sisters” didn’t see fit to help.
My own “sisters” enjoyed what was happening to me, feeling I deserved it.
Wow.

I was 35 years old when I finally told my mother.
She always wondered what happened to my “friend”.
I made something up.
I was scared the would have either said that I did something to deserve it or she would go kill them all with her bare hands.
Guilt.
I couldn’t take.

I soon realized that the boy I kissed told all of his friends he had done so much more.  He based his sexual conquest stories on me.  Most boys who lie should be smart enough to say “you don’t know her she lives in Siberia”.  I have no idea what he said, but it was enough for every single kid at that party to believe I wouldn’t be upset with what transpired.

And me, in all of my stubborn “power” never planned on letting them know they hurt me either.

This, my friends, is when I started hiding behind vices.
No one would ever see, feel or hear my pain, because on some level, I knew they wouldn’t care even if they did.
I hid so well that I didn’t even know how much I was hurting.
Sometimes, I still don’t.

But, I do know that just because no one stood for me, does not mean that I can not stand for them.

(I have more thoughts on the subject,
Another post,
Another day.)

The past two times I have gone to Springhurst there has been a woman sitting in the median with a sign that reads

“Even a penny helps.  Pray For Me.”

Heart.
Breaks.

Over the weekend, I read Under the Overpass: A Journey of Faith on the Streets of America and this month I have been working through the My 30 Days Under the Overpass: Not Your Ordinary Devotional (great books, both of them).  One of the suggestions is to keep a few bottles of water, gift cards to restaurants and chewy granola bars in your car to hand out when you meet someone in need.

The best part of having these items available is that you CAN help someone with out helping any destructive habits they may be dealing with as well.

I have those items in my car.  In my trunk, a lot of good they did me, or the woman at the intersection, if I can’t reach them.  I need a small box in my front seat.  Knowing that the economy is slow to recover and people have been living irresponsibly for years (self included) seeing homeless people on the streets (even in the east end) is going to be more of an issue.

Good Job Colgate!
Seriously, thank you for using a REAL DENTIST in your ads.

Dr. Joyce Fang isn’t a person playing a dentist in this months Good Housekeeping!  Three Cheers.
And how cute is it that her last name is fang.
heh.

I do crack myself up!
Here is the ad that started this whole line of posts: Truth in Advertising

I am one of those pesky people who gets pretty snippy when I feel that I have been lied to or information has been mis-represented in anyway.  I get so bent out of shape over ads that say stuff like highly processed sugar crud made from corn is “natural” and just as healthy as regular sugar…

But, I guess I also get upset over ads like this too:

That cute chick with the SEARS ID around her neck is Felicia Day.  She is very internet famous-she is a social media maven and star of both The Guild and Dr. Horrible.  She is NOT a Sears Blue Appliance Crew Expert and when she gives “advice” about appliances, I don’t really believe her, because I KNOW she is an actress.

Now, I know that there are models and actresses and people who pretend to be all sorts of things in advertising, the part that chaps my bum about this one…the woman next to her is (unless they made her up too) the marketing director for the magazine where this ad appears.  So, the next question my little mind brews up…

How can I trust Sears to be honest about their appliances when I can’t trust their “expert”?

Is sears so far behind the times in Advertising and Marketing that they don’t realize that I am probably NOT the only one who saw this ad that KNOWS that woman isn’t Ms. Bohner?  Is there really a Ms. Bohner?  Is she fat? or ugly? Or just really shy?

In today’s social media, transparency environment; How would you feel to know that a “trusted” expert is really an actor?