Because I apparently become narcoleptic around 11 PM and fall asleep on the couch for two hours, this blog post is going to contain several burning topics for me from this week.
So I co-sponsor this book club at school called RaiderReads. It's exactly like your typical book club except it consists of students and teachers and meets in teachers' homes. We had our first in-home meeting of the year tonight and it was really, really great. I'm just very excited about this group and the year ahead. Even though I have always been a reader and often surrounded myself with others who read, I still feel so pleasantly surprised to find people willing to give up a weeknight to come to a teacher's house and talk about a book. (And eat. And tonight, partake in a pretty kickin' hot chocolate bar.) It was a great night about a fantastic book with wonderful people. However... what struck me tonight wasn't as much the book or the club meeting itself, it was watching my two littles interact with these kids (mostly girls) and being struck all over again what an enriched life they lead as the children of a high school teacher. (That sentence did not sound nearly as arrogant in my mind as it looks in print...) Let me explain. My kids are drawn like little magnets to the crowd every time I have students over. And they interact with them on varying levels of shyness, depending on the student. Tonight at one point, Emma recognized one of them from the plays and said, "That's so and so! She put ----- in her written part on that play program!" There was another student there whose name they recognized from attending the plays as well, and whom they are a little bit obsessed with. They got to see the drum major up close, met a girl who loves horses probably even more than they do, talked to one they've watched play soccer many times about her turtle. At other times, they have been able to interact with their volleyball idol and the kids from the show choir and the best dancer on the dance team. They cheer by name for the football players from my class. These guys and gals are all larger than life to them, truly superstars, and they are entering their world... it's big stuff! Sometimes like tonight I realize how blessed I am that my two girls have examples long before they reach high school of how it's done. And these kids are all such positive role models for Emma and Kelsey. I just love that this opportunity is available to my kids.
Why are we so uncomfortable with doing good? I am never more nervous or ill at ease than when I am about to give someone a card I wrote or do something nice for them or give them something or help them out. I did something today for another person and quite literally could not look her in the eye afterward. She thanked me and hugged me and she probably thought I was the most awkward person ever because I stiff-side-hugged her and mumbled something like, "You're welcome, I have to get to the dentist." (In my defense, I was truly headed to the dentist. But still.) I just think it's so odd and rather sad. I don't fancy myself a person who is more familiar with doing wrong, but I just don't understand why I feel so vulnerable and uncomfortable doing something nice for another person. I will avoid reading fb messages, text, or cards that are sent by people to say nice things to me because it EMBARRASSES ME TO READ THEM. ALONE. IN MY OWN HOME. I have to sort of psych myself up for it. It's kind of insane.
Last of all, and it is highly likely I have addressed this before on this blog, but I cannot let a reading of All But My Life pass without sharing this quote. It's from the epilogue where Gerda Weissman Klein is talking about her time in America after her survival of the Holocaust. She states, in regard to this country: "It has been home, better than I ever dreamed it would be. I love this country as only one who has been homeless for so long can understand. I love it with a possessive fierceness that excuses its inadequacies, because I deeply want to belong. And I am still fearful of rejection, feeling I have no right to criticize, only an obligation to help correct." (emphasis added) I'm just going to let that one ruminate with you for a while. Can you even imagine what this country would be like if more of us (myself included) felt that we have "no right to criticize, only an obligation to help correct"??? Wow. What about your workplace? Your church? Your community organizations? Your family? Your friend groups? I think I'm going to make that my motto for the remainder of this month of gratitude and Veteran's Day and see what sort of effect it might have in small doses. :)
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