A Renewed Sense of Purpose

Last night was the first night that I didn't cry myself to sleep. I actually got a decent night's rest. I've found it hard to avoid being grouchy at school since the tragedy. That is exactly what those kids DON'T need. The only thing that's kept me somewhat calm the last couple of days is that through all of the emotions I've experienced, the one that prevails during the day is hope. When I'm at home, I just can't help but cry most of the time. However, when I'm at school, I look into the eyes of these sweet and innocent children and a flicker of hope rises within me. I have a hope that somehow what I'm doing is not in vain. Somehow, I will be able to make a difference in some of their lives. Maybe I made a difference in Mack’s life, I know he made a difference in mine!

Today I received a phone call from one of my students. She got my cell phone number from a note I sent home to her mom about taking her to the movies. Her mom was at work today and she was staying with some of her cousins or aunties. She just called to shoot the breeze. She was soooo excited to be talking to me on the phone, but only about half as excited as I was to be talking to her. That's just what I needed during this time of sorrow. Moments like that help validate what I am doing with my life. Tomorrow, I will be taking her to see the Chronicles of Narnia as a reward for getting her name drawn from the "good behavior tub." I suspect that her older brother and sister will want to come along. I hope they do.

I had her older sister in class last year. First semester I enlisted the older sister's help in teaching my current student the sounds of the alphabet. I promised I would take them both to Sonic if she could learn all of her letters and letter sounds. They happily reported that when either of them got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom they would promptly wake the other one up and practice on the letters and sounds. Now that’s dedication! As you might suppose, she knows them all quite well now.

I have come to realize over the course of events that have transpired this week that I cannot protect these children from the harsh realities that surround them, but I can do my part to make their lives a little bit happier and hopefully more meaningful. When a child squeals at the sight of me and runs open-armed across the room to give me a hug it really makes my life meaningful. From there, all I can do is pray that no harm will come to them.

One of the sweetest children I ever knew

I don't know that it's a good idea to blog in my current emotional state, however, I feel compelled to do so. Before I explain the reasons for my emotional state, I need to go back about five years.

As I entered Western Village Academy for my first day as an official employee I had the pleasure of meeting a kindergarten student (I shall not post his name for anonymity's sake) who was whimsical, outrageous, adorable, imaginative (more so than any child I have met since), entertaining, and a million other positive adjectives I could list. I eagerly awaited "share time" every morning to hear the outlandish and creative stories he would concoct with which to mesmerize the group. He was just that: a mesmerizing individual. I never heard anybody say a bad word about the child even when he pulled his pants down on the field trip to the pumpkin patch to prove to one of the adult chaperones that he was, in fact, a boy. This wonderful child was one of the two or three kids that kept pulling me back to Western Village during my year-long absence. The year I was gone, I often reminisced of my special moments with this young man.

Yesterday, this beautiful child was shot in the head through the front window of his house. He passed away about three hours ago.

I cannot put into words the emotions I have experienced in this last minute window of time (which has felt like an eternity). I have experience rage, hatred, bitterness, anger, sorrow, and many other emotions. I have heard the police say on the news that they don't know what prompted this 4:00 a.m. shooting. We all know. Everyone in the neighborhood knows. Probably half the kids in the school know, even some of the Pre-K kids. Neighborhood violence prematurely took this happy-go-lucky Angel from this cruel world.

I have had more thoughts in the past hour than I've had in a week. I wonder, "What am I doing in a place every day where many of my precious children are destined to be shot or even be the shooter themselves?" or "What is the point of me being here when violence and wrath is a way of life from which I can't protect these children?" or "What could I have done more than I did to make a difference in that child's life?"

The cards in the front passenger seat of my car that my current students made for him (along with one of my own) sit glaring at me as a chilling reminder that I can't take the cards to him. As I drove down the road to my house trying to see the road through a cloud of tears, noises of anguish came out of body as I did not know I was capable of producing. I am usually emotionless to a fault.

It is eerie how this child has come up in the thoughts and conversations of so many school employees so frequently in the past couple of weeks because though he lives a block and a half from the school, he had been attending a private school for the past year and a half.

None of this whole ordeal seemed real until he died. The school was abuzz with the news for the past two days, and I discussed it with colleagues myself. It was like I was talking about some fictitious movie. But this is real. This is the life a lot of my students live. This is what they have to live with every day and night and every 4:00 a.m. that rolls around. I sit in my nice little condo with my nice little life doing my nice little homework for my nice little grad school classes planning my nice little basketball tournament - for what? My life isn't reality - it's a picturesque little fairy land. Reality for a lot of people is not going outside to ride your bike because you're afraid. Growing up to do and/or deal drugs. Being the daughter of a prostitute that is murdered by a serial killer. Being a son who watches his mom's boyfriend kill his own mom. Getting shot in your own bed. How come I have it so good? How come I can't help people who don't? I have a lot of unanswered (and maybe unanswerable) questions right now. I did not make one of those things up. I have had a kid in my class that has had all those things happen to them except for the drugs which is inevitable for many of them. I don't know if I can take this. I don't know if I can face those kids in the morning or in days and weeks to come.

Spring Break

It has been my pleasure over the last seven or eight years to spend all or part of my Spring Break in Memphis, TN. I am truly saddened that I will not be watching the ducks march down the red carpet to the elevator and on to their palace home atop the Peabody in Memphis this year. I am also extremely heartbroken that I will not be munching on slab after slab of pork ribs at Interstate BBQ (although I'm up for a little all-you-can-eat ribs at Kansas City Blues BBQ on Thursday night if anyone cares to contest my 16 rib feat).

HOWEVER, I am most certainly thrilled that Dick Vitale and I will be spending some quality time together where I can actually see some live action. For almost a decade now, I have had to catch up on the first and second rounds of MARCH MADNESS BABY! through the Memphis newspapers. Though I do not have cable, CBS and I will be tighter than a boy scout's knot for the next few days. I will also be in T.V. heaven when my dad gets out of the hospital (hopefully Friday night) as he has every sports channel imaginable and they're all in High Def.

Anybody care to make any predictions???

I simply want to say this: let's cheer hard for OU as they will need it in the second round
AND
can we cheer just as hard that Duke will be knocked out as quickly as possible?

Chillin'

In a world where hurrying is the norm and I am no exception, I have decided to purge my life of several "extras" and spend more time slowing down. I have officially made the decision that this will be my last year to coach basketball. It has been a wonderful four years. I have been coach, friend, and surrogate mother to many girls throughout the course of this experience. Even as I type, my eyes begin to mist over the fond memories I have acquired from my time with the girls. In addition to the treasure of these relationships, I have also bonded with a few of the basketball parents in a way I never dreamed imaginable. I have learned a lot about myself and others thanks to this life experience.

But alas, the time has come for a new era in my life. This new phase will still consist of the majority of my old duties, but it will also include time to simply soak things in. This new chapter in my life has been slowly creeping in for the past five or six months. Tonight is a prime example. I got some take-out from Zio's, went to Lake Hefner, and sat on a park bench while the sun was setting. I watched the water, read a little bit of the Bible, and just relaxed. I am so content that I am finally in a place where I don't feel compelled and/or obligated to be productive every single second of every single day. I finally understand the value of taking time out for myself. I am convinced that this will help me be a more relaxed individual. I am certain that you will concur.