The Wind and Waves

One of my kids is becoming pretty obsessed with travel, with seeing the world, and specifically with Japan. (I think the Japan thing is due to some RIDICULOUS show that she watches regularly, and it’s not Marie Kondo’s “Tidying Up”, I can tell you that.) Anyway, she has mentioned many times in the past few days that she wants a job where she can travel and see the world, and specifically that she might want to live in Japan. She does have some sensitivity to the fact that this might completely break my heart, even though I haven’t mentioned it, because she has said several times, “Mom, I know you’ll miss me and I’ll miss not being here for all the family stuff.” Mind you, this is the same kid who didn’t seem like she would ever attach to me, then told me a few months after arriving that she wanted to build a house in the field so that she could always live close to me and her dad. I am choosing to view this new development not as her not feeling as attached to us, but rather as the healthiest and most developed form of attachment, the kind that feels secure no matter the situation and can follow its dreams.

All of this talk about moving and seeing the world makes my heart clinch up when I realize that, in today’s society, having your adult children and their families just a few streets over or across town is truly unusual. Our family has been blessed that we all live very close to each other, attend the same church, etc, but that’s NOT the norm (and thank goodness for me, Kraig had already made the choice to live away from his family; otherwise, I would never have met him!). I know that as time goes on and your kids grow up, you come to terms with their choices for their adult lives and you happily spend whatever time with them you can get, but it’s a painful thing to think about today. It hurts a little more to think of these three with whom we haven’t even had much time with anyway. I feel like I’m making up for all the years apart as it is, thinking of a future apart makes me sick inside.

Last night I was feeling pretty ick (in addition to the fact that I don’t have a physical voice) about this and I was reminded of a night on our fall break cruise that I have mentioned here before.

Kraig had told me something one of our kids said that made us realize that the kid is still VERY attached to someone in the first country and I just felt waves after wave of fear that this child might choose to leave us and go back to the first home once the age makes it possible. With that fresh in my mind, I was praying in regard to all of my kids and the fears I have that we aren’t enough, that we haven’t done enough, that we got the new kids too late to attach the way we need to and that we may have somehow taken away from E and K in the process. I know, it’s a ridiculous spiral and it’s my natural personality but I think adoption makes all of these feelings so much more acute and the spiral so much more intense.

 

Anyway, I was actually in the tiny shower in our tiny room on a cruise ship being rocked by a hurricane when I was feeling this hurricane in my own emotions and God so clearly said to me, “You CAN’T lose any of the five of them because they aren’t YOURS to begin with. They are mine. You stood in an altar and gave each of them back to me, two of them as babies and the other three as teens. So you don’t have to worry about losing them because I have them. And I’m way better at all of this than you could ever be.”

It’s not frequently that I can say I felt like I had a very specific word from God, one that could be quoted, but this was one of those moments. I often feel things impressed on me, or I feel a sort of message in my spirit, but this was a very clear and specific word. And I couldn’t help but feel both relieved and chastened, all at the same time.

 I say it all the time, but parenting is not for the faint of heart. It’s such a weird dance of holding on and letting go. It’s a tug between them driving me crazy and thinking of the days when they are grown with great glee because it means we all survived versus the days I look around the dinner table or in the rearview mirror or around the couches in the tv room and think that I won’t survive the void when all five of them are gone from under my roof. But on both types of days, I would do well to remember the message that God gave me as our ship rocked and rolled in the hurricane waves off to the side of Cuba. No matter the sea… stormy or still, wind-tossed or peaceful, He has them in the palm of His hand. They are His, not mine. And He’s the only one who is obeyed by the winds and waves.

What Now? A Victory for Empathy

"I don't have any posterboard at home and my mom couldn't take me to get any. There is a business in our neighborhood and they put a pile of trash tiles out back every week or so, so I always get some for class projects." This was the answer given to me by an industrious and creative student when I asked her why she did her project on a ceramic tile. I honestly wasn't expecting that at all, I was expecting her to say that she felt like it was the best medium for this particular project. She didn't say it with any shame or expecting any pity, she said it as if it were the most normal thing in the world to tote a heavy and fragile ceramic tile into class when a creative project is due. Because that's just what she did-- she made it work. However, from that point forward I kept a stock of posterboard in my room for her to use for projects until her upcoming graduation.

"Do you care if I take some of those feminine products leftover from the bathroom? I don't have much at home and that makes it hard every month." This was the question asked of me after prom by a sweet and beautiful girl. She said it quietly, with a little bit of embarrassment, but also with a confidence that she deserves cleanliness just as much as the next person.

The student who creates a battle over every assignment and never has a pencil... the one who smells bad and the kids around wrinkle up their nose and ask me to light a candle... the one whose family receives assistance but whose parents never seem to think of the kids when they make purchases...

I can't tell you how many situations in public education where it is apparent to me that kids are the losers in every circumstance. And yet, for most of them, they make do. They scrounge. They are industrious. Even when they shouldn't have to be.

So when my Holocaust Literature class started making decisions about this year's memorial projects, I knew of one that I really wanted to see get off the ground-- a CHS Pantry. We will come up with a creative name for it at some point, but it's basically a place kids who need them can go (confidentially) to get school supply and hygiene items. I explained this need to a mixed group of students... some of whom were shocked at the idea that a need like this can be real ("So all girls don't have access to pads and tampons???") and some of whom knew exactly what the need is because they live it themselves.

One of the specific projects that set out to raise money for the pantry was the benefit concert group. This year I was more hands-off the memorial projects than I ever have been in the past. I've slowly been weaning myself from the need to take control (haha!), but this year I really stepped back (mostly out of survival-- I have found that parenting five teens in my house takes a lot out of me that I had previously used for the 119 teens in room 222). I gave them some class time to work, I had them submit an initial plan and some followup checkpoints, but for the most part it has been ALL THEM. And I have to say, this year has probably been our overall most successful year for memorial projects, so maybe I just needed to back up already! ;)

This group worked very quietly. Their project was scheduled for tonight, so the grade was already submitted before their event even happened. Every time I talked to any of them, everything seemed to be handled, so I left it with them. I guess they inspired major confidence in me because, for the first time EVER for a Holocaust Lit Memorial Event, I did not feel one ounce of anxiety or stress over it. When we pulled into that parking lot tonight and I saw how many cars were there, then we walked in and saw almost every seat full... I was thrilled. Then the concert began and my thrill turned to the deepest pride and appreciation.

The student who emceed the night was incredible. She had the perfect mix of personality and professionalism and came across as so much older than a high school student. Several of the performances were students from the Holocaust Lit class itself, plus several other CHS seniors, a Bradley student, and a group of 3 alums and another guy who are all students at Lee. What an incredible night of talent!!! The one thing I wish I could do is sing and MAN, tonight made that wish so much deeper! I got teary a time or two, thinking about the fact that 7:50 AM on Tuesday morning will not find that Holocaust Literature group sitting in room 222.

When all was said and done, we left with over $300 and several bags full of supplies for the pantry. As I told those four kids in a text, they participated in a process that is so necessary in this world but also so rare: They LOOKED around them (something the vast majority of us don't do, thanks largely to our self-interests and technology), they RECOGNIZED a need, and then they ACTED on it. And because of those actions, the commentary from the top of this blog post will start to be eliminated.

These four kids are WORLD CHANGERS, plain and simple. They are leaving CHS better than they found it. They are reaching outside their own circles, they are winning the battle against apathy, they are claiming a victory for empathy, and they gave me so much hope and joy this past semester and tonight. When I teach Holocaust Lit, I DO want my students to learn about the Holocaust. But as I tell them, if we leave it in 1945, we have done an injustice to the survivors and the victims. What can we learn about the Holocaust that can make our own world a better place? My final lesson in that class is called "What Now?" and it's one where I tell them about various agencies and non-profits and missions and causes that exist in the hopes that they will find their way down a path of social justice and action. Tonight, my purpose in teaching that class was fulfilled. They "got it". And I am so stinking proud of them.

{I am also thankful to the parents who had a helping hand in this, First United Methodist Church who allowed them to use their facility, and to the performers themselves who performed for free in order to raise the optimum amount of money for the cause.}