A Crossroads: Praying for OKC on a Night of Celebration

For the second time this year I was faced with a media teacher crossroads. It’s yearbook night for seniors. Our senior class puts on an ice cream social and all seniors who pre-ordered can get their books the day before they go to the rest of the school. This senior night was almost in doubt when a major severe storm hit just before show time.

But as often happens in Wichita Falls, the weather moved on and other than a some hail damage we were no worse for the wear, so we decided to go forward with senior night using the staff that were there. 

That’s when the AP wire alert sounded on my phone. When I saw a massive tornado hit the OKC metro area, we turned on CNN. We kept it on for a few minutes and I made the call to turn the TVs off.

It’s senior ice cream social and yearbook night. Most students are either related to or know someone in the OKC area.

We could watch the news or we could celebrate. We couldn’t do both. 

So we turned the TV off and we passed out he books and the seniors who made in after the storm had a great time.

On the way home I listened to the news and cried.

It’s interesting because the yearbook theme this year is Hero. Yearbook editor Emma White’s done an amazing job writing theme copy. Her closing copy fits today perfectly:

 

“The Oath: Sometime life throws you in the dumpster. Sometimes we don’t even know we’re there until a hero comes along, grabs our reaching hands, and pulls us out. The people free, walking around, have to be heroes because they are the only ones who can see the cages. We have a duty to help one another, to reach out even if we can’t help. A superhero never saved the day by himself. Even prominently solo-working heroes like Superman and Batman have their counterparts. The world would be in shambles if Superman and Batman didn’t have Lois Lane, Robin, and Officer Gordon. Spider-Man is just a creepy mutant kid without Uncle Ben and Aunt May, As Rider Raiders, we have to stand up when we get pushed down. When we’re told we’re not as good as everyone thinks we are by our toughest critics, we will be the ones to stand back up and prove them wrong the next time around. We can’t do it. We can’t face the world, not by ourselves. It is not humanly possible to enter the world alone and come out alive. The obstacles on the quest of our lives, finding our identities, learning who we are, cannot simply be overcome by one person. We are finding the differences in the world between the good, the bad, and the ugly, and realizing that they often all three come together. We are finding the hardships of life can only be overcome when we are there for one another. Our oath in leaving high school, in leaving this year, is to always look forward, but to never forget who we were, and that we will be heroes for as long as we can deliver a roundhouse kick to the face of our fears.”

Praying for people in OKC, for those babies who’ve lost their lives and their families who have a world of heartbreak ahead. 

**Photo by Hope Alvarez, copy by Emma White. 

 

Thank God…but

I’m over the happy. The terrorist caught today was a child. A perfectly normal child with what seemed to be a somewhat normal life with friends and people he dealt with daily. Everyone who knew him is shocked. Something evil turned inside him and he killed innocent people, brought a major city to a complete stand still, tried to destroy a symbol of America and brought back a lot of ugly feelings I thought were gone. He’ll pay for his actions with his life, I’m sure, but that won’t make things better. I hurt for the amazing young man he could have been, the difference he could have made in this world if he hadn’t become one of the monsters out there. Hate kills. Love wins. I know that, but right now, that love feels muted somehow. I hope his capture gives peace to the families who lost loved ones and those whose lives have been forever changed because of devastating injuries. I hope we can study what turned him, go through the data and see how he and his brother were able to plan and execute this attack with such precision. I hope everyone who helped them is caught and prosecuted. I hope we can at least learn something from this that will stop the next terrorist from striking again and stop the child with dreams and aspirations from willfully becoming a terrorist. I hope we can learn something from this or it’s all such a tragic, awful waste.

 

Not Enough

He was just walking around downtown Sunday, looking for someone to bum a cigarette from.

He happened to walk by the church, was invited in and stumbled upon our two snacks and a drink surprise on Easter. 

Something hit me when he walked by. I don’t know what. Maybe it was that he was young and reminded me of my students. Maybe it was that he looked a little lost and a lot hungry. Definitely it was that God nudge that I sometimes ignore. 

I didn’t ignore the nudge.

He was 20. Went to a local high school. Straight A student freshman and sophomore years. Barely passing after that.

I didn’t know for sure that he was homeless until a young person from the church stopped to talk to him, said he knew him from when HE was homeless. I asked if I could pray with him. Talked about God meets us where we are not where we think we should be. How he uses us in all our brokenness (THANK GOODNESS!).

The boy left church service a few minutes in. I thought he’d skipped out, but he found me after to let me know he’d gotten sick but didn’t leave. He heard the whole message.

I gave him a hug and we talked about dancing because at the end of service a DJ played dub step and the kid was a self-taught dancer. Then I told him I hoped to see him next week and walked away.

And ever since he’s been on my mind–especially with the rain and cold. 

I kind of feel like crying when I think about him. I mean I talked with him, prayed with him, gave him a hug, but then I walked away and went on about life, and he went back to the streets. It’s not enough. But I don’t know what enough is. How many others like him and the other young man from the church are out there? How can we be okay with kids living on the streets? How can we NOT be okay with it? 

I know homelessness is a huge issue, far bigger than my limited past understands. When I naively said something about it being so sad and usually a substance abuse issue, my niece who’s been there said “You’d be surprised,” and I realized I really have no clue and all my suppositions are pointless.

I know an answer. One. God.

And that answer is the only way I can come to terms with the fact that I left church Sunday with that boy walking one way and me headed off to lunch with friends. But even that feels like a cop-out, an easy answer for the teacher who’s building a house and complains that the old house gets hot in the summer but who’s never been hungry or alone or so lost that walking around bumming cigarettes off strangers is the norm. For the Christian who’s all fine and good saying “Be the Jesus to those who don’t know HIm” but then only does so in thimblesfull of hugs and prayers and maybe a donation every once in a while.

The last six weeks I’ve been listening to Colonial preacher JIm Botts about being a Roof Wrecker and for the last year and a half I’ve listened to One Life minister Ronnie Whitfield about the church being Jesus to the lost, out in the community, NOT a building. It’s changed me. Made me see how little I do, how much more God asks from us, how many are searching for something to fill a void and I feel so tiny and so limited by myself.

There’s a great Nooma video about Jesus asking the disciples to take his yoke and what that really means and how it’s still what God asks from us today. I NEVER felt guilty about my lack there until now. 

I’m not sure what the answers are. I’ll let you know what I find out.

It’s Not You, It’s Me

I did’t plan on breaking up with Facebook. I knew I was going to limit my time on the site because I was spending WAY too much of it there. But then I started reading The Gifts of Imperfection by Brenè Brown (OMG, soooooooo good! Go watch her TED Talks!), and I read her words about–paraphrasing here–spending time in fulfilling activity and how vegging in front of the computer for hours after work often leaves people feeling empty. I realized that’s exactly what I was doing. Vegging. For hours. Worse, I was “connected” with people from school, but because of that “connection” I’d quit actually seeking them out. Facebook was an addiction. And it was taking away from who I am instead of making me a stronger, wiser, happier person.

I don’t think that’s the same for everyone. But for me, Facebook without boundaries is worse than Pinterest.

So, I’m on a Facebook hiatus. When (if) I get back on, I’m setting a strict time limit.

Family, I love you! Text me. Email me. Tweet me. Or better yet, come see me! 

Friends, the same thing applies.

Facebook friends: We’ll meet again. I just need to Facebook detox. I’ll be back after Easter.

If you’ve ever felt judged because of the color of your skin, stand up

“We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal.”

Friday culminated a week of first amendment lectures in my J1 class. The week introduced a new semester of students to the class (and to me). These kids have already touched my heart. Here’s one reason why:

We played the “If you’ve ever had brown hair,” etc. game in class Friday. You know,

If you’ve ever had brown hair, blue hair, purple hair, orange hair, brown eyes, blue eyes, green eyes, been made fun of for your clothes…stand up.

We can’t play this right away. I’ve got to wait until late enough in the class that I’ve connected with the kids (five days this semester), but not so late that they know me too well. I’ve got to play along. I stepped forward for every one of the hair colors. That made them laugh and put them at ease.

On we went through about 15 or so “If you’ve evers” until we got to the zingers:

“If you’ve ever felt judged because of your gender, stand up.” And “if you’ve ever felt out of place because of the color of your skin, stand up.” And then, “if you’ve ever felt judged because of the color of your skin, stand up.” This is the most diverse J1 class I’ve ever had. Almost every kid in the room stood up. I think the kids were a little surprised I was going there with this lesson.

And then I said the words I started this blog with:

“We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal,” and they said the words with me. I didn’t expect that, but it made for one of the most powerful moments in my teaching career. When we got to the whole 9-11, 2005 study showing 1 in 5 teens believed the first amendment gives too many freedoms, the kids in the class didn’t understand how that could possibly be.

Someone told me today shouldn’t be a holiday. I disagree. You see, I had a diverse classroom full of teenagers stand when I asked if they’d ever been judged because of the color of their skin. If the person who told me today shouldn’t be a holiday had seen the hurt in the eyes of the 14-17-yr-old children standing at the end of a game that isn’t a game at all, if they’d seen the simmering anger there in some of those eyes, they’d understand how very important this day is. Things might be better, but we’re not there yet.

Why I’m not anti-Obamacare even though I know it won’t solve all the problems

Today’s my husband’s birthday. He’s 49. He’s rarely sick. He’s self-employed. He pays taxes. He makes a good living.

Several years ago the cost of adding him to my insurance quadrupled, so he got his own insurance, which he uses rarely. Over time that policy continued to escalate in price so he upped the deductible. It’s now $10,000, and he pays thousands of dollars a year for that coverage just in case. He rarely uses the insurance for anything other than a yearly physical. In fact, in over a decade, he’s used it three times, two of those last year.

Before he upped the deductible, he had a kidney stone. We thought he was having a heart attack and called an ambulance. We were young and didn’t know better. I think it was over a decade ago, but time gets fuzzy. That was the only time he used the insurance for anything other than a physical until last year’s kidney stone episode. We knew what the problem was and went to the ER on our own. The ER nurse was awesome, kind and helpful. We saw the doctor for all of 30 seconds. He told us my husband had a kidney stone and walked out. We paid over $2000 for that ER visit. Over $1000 for the 30 second doctor’s diagnosis. The trip to the urologist was cheaper.

He’s had a kidney stone since then, but he chose to self-medicate and get through it on his own instead of going to the doctor.

In the last year he’s developed reflux. Last night that reflux turned into something awful. I looked up the symptoms online and have a pretty good idea of what’s wrong. We’re going to try diet changes first. If that doesn’t work he’ll have to break down and go to the doctor. And that trip to the doctor will break us even though he has insurance. Insurance he pays an arm and a leg for. Ridiculously expensive insurance that is still cheaper than putting him on my state teacher insurance policy.

I realize Obamacare isn’t the answer, but it’s at least an attempt to fix a problem that exists with our current system.

Freedom Worth Fighting For

So I’m sitting in my classroom after school working on my lesson for tomorrow when all the sudden BAM! I’m nearly in tears, which would be totally uncool since we’re on deadline and I have a classroom of kids working right now.

All week in J-1 we’ve focused on the first amendment and we’ve looked at video clips and photos and discussed Hazelwood, Tinker, Bong Hits for Jesus. We’ve looked at Tiananmen Square and talked about student protests and communism and how horrible the massacre was and then we looked at the US and the Civil Rights protests and the kids are totally into it and so am I. These have been AWESOME days.

This class responds well to lecture with technology (NOT a POWERPOINT!), but clips to emphasize points or photos to start discussion. Tomorrow I’m going to tell them about the study released in 2005 that said:

“When told of the exact text of the First Amendment, more than one in three high school students said it goes “too far” in the rights it guarantees. Only half of the students said newspapers should be allowed to publish freely without government approval of stories.”

And we’re going to talk about how many students believed at that time that the first amendment caused 9-11, which brings me to the BAM.

I planned on showing the Sept. 12, 2001 newspaper front pages while I lectured. I wanted the point to hit home. And then I wanted to let the screen go black and talk about the first amendment and the rights it protects once again. But when I loaded those pages onto Evernote, I suddenly found myself right back there in those days after the terrorists attacks.

I live in Wichita Falls, Texas. I didn’t know anyone personally hurt by the terrorists that day. But I watched the news non-stop from the time the planes hit the Towers. I’m a media teacher, and we had the news on already that day. I slept with the news on, waiting, hoping, praying for some kind of miracle, and then praying for peace for those directly impacted and praying for internal peace to move past the anger and hatred toward those who committed the atrocities. All the while the news played in the background until we finally couldn’t watch any more. I didn’t realize what I’d done until a few months later when I found myself waking up sure my daughter was dead. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I’d get up and go check on her to make sure she was okay even though I knew my fear was ridiculous. After a few weeks of that I broke down and told my doctor what was going on. I was so embarrassed! She told me she believed I’d given myself a form of PTSD from watching the news too much after the attacks. I took the medicine she prescribed for about six months then weened myself off. I haven’t had a problem since, really.

I don’t watch the 9-11 specials. I feel guilty about that in a way, but I can’t. I went to see Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close because I didn’t realize it was a 9-11 movie. I almost walked out when the answering machine message played the first time. I’m glad I didn’t. It’s definitely one of those movies everyone should see at least once. I was shaky for a day after the movie, but I never went back to that dark place from 2001.

Today though, when I scrolled through those Sept. 12 pages, one after another after another, I had to turn off the iPad, move away from my presentation and sit here and write and pray and tell myself to focus on the good instead. On the light. On the resiliency of people. On the power of the first amendment and why people have been willing to die for it over the centuries and why people have been willing to die to TRY to get something close and why it’s essential I teach it in my classes every day. Because in 2005 1 in 3 students thought the first amendment gave too many freedoms and I think sometimes that number’s gone up and that’s scary, so scary, so absolutely terrifying because if we let that thought process continue without fighting it, the terrorists won that day.

I’m not sure what I’ll do tomorrow for the visual during the lecture. Maybe now that I’ve written this all out, I’ll be okay showing the front pages. Maybe I’ll use a still image. Maybe I’ll plug in my iPad and let the class watch while I talk with my back to the wall. Whatever I decide, I know what every student will have in their hands. It’s that piece of paper I handed out the first day of class. And on that paper are the words that matter most:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
— The First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution

The Truth about Aaron Swartz’s “Crime”

This whole story hurts my heart. I’ve had so many Aaron Swartz type students in my classes over the years.

The world lost a light.

The Truth about Aaron Swartz’s “Crime”.

Hey Moms, Don’t Trust The Squeaky Clean Facebook Wall AKA Cashing in My Cool Card

Interesting conversations about social media at school this week. Several of the students said they no longer get on their Facebook pages. WEIRD, right?!?! I can’t imagine life without Grumpy Cat!

They said it’s because their moms are all on Facebook now. Ohhhhhhhhh.

Instead they spend their time on twitter and tumblr, places their mothers don’t understand. There was another place, too. Can’t believe I didn’t write it down. The conversation Wednesday in third period ended with one of the girls telling another not to “blast her business.” The class had to explain to me what that meant. They got a kick out of that.
So here’s my public service announcement for moms: if you’re not worried about your kids’ digital lives (learned that term this week too thanks to fellow teacher Scotty Coppage) because of their squeaky clean Facebook walls, don’t believe it for a minute. Their digital lives are WAY bigger than ours. But don’t freak out too much. They said their number one reason for leaving Facebook was all the drama. The next reason: all of us. They said twitter drama is even worse, but it’s different. I think some of them are using tumblr like their moms use Facebook.

These kids are digital natives. They embrace technology and toss it like two-year-old magazines on a regular basis. Most of us moms are digital newbies, even though we’ve been using social media almost as long as our kids if not longer. Some of us are just as addicted to social media as our kids if not more so. Social media can be awesome and wonderful. It can also be destructive, and not just for our kids. We owe it to them to be aware.

Yeah, I just cashed in my cool teacher card by “blasting their business.” I’m okay with that.

 

I Refused to Miss School Today No Matter What. Here’s Why

Best class ever. Here’s why:

1. Prerequisite: 1^st Amendment understanding

Nuclear war left world devastated. Group left makes up Goodist society where the world is always Good. No violence. No poverty. No divorce. Supressive rules: censored music, censored education. Goodist Judges who speak for the people and serve for life once elected. No marriage until 25, but must live with parents until then and train for a true career so when they turn 25, they can have a good life, therefore no money problems, which is a leading cause of divorce. No open religious beliefs since religion is a huge cause of conflict; however, personal beliefs in your own home are perfectly fine. Those who don’t follow the rules or don’t want to try are sent to the nuclear wasteland. Outcasts must sit alone. The Goodists don’t let the Outcasts form a community at the beginning of the game for fear the Outcasts would try to overthrow them and their bubble. Point of project: convince those undecided to join a side. Outcasts also trying to convince Goodists to become Outcast. Goodists trying to convince undecides to join them, but they will not allow those Outcast to join them. (AT NO TIME IN THE SESSION CAN THE MODERATOR interfere with how this plays out. You MUST be like Jeff Probst. You can ask questions, but you can’t make things happen. )

THIS SESSION (end of 2012 semester Jan. 9-11)

1.  Most of class is Goodist. 3 judges chosen, they sit in front and face forward. Only judges speak for Goodists unless a judge sees a silent Goodist with their hand raised requesting the opportunity to speak.  One Outcast. About 10 undecided.

2. An absentee joins Outcasts. 2 against rest of class.

3. Debate begins by undecideds questioning the Goodists judges or the Outcasts. Only judges speak for the Goodists unless a judge calls on a Goodist society member. At any time, the Goodist judges can call for a 60-second Goodist discussion before answering a question. When that happens Goodists meet, discuss and come up with an answer, then judge responds. Outcasts can not talk to each other at all at first. They are solitary.

4. After twenty minutes of debate a Goodist who’s been reprimanded for speaking without judges’ consent three times is kicked out of Goodist community. Goodists cheer. These judges are great at letting their people talk, so they are liked.

5. Goodist judge and undercover operative of Outcasts operating as undecided gets in kerfuffle with Goodist judge over whether a Goodist teenager committing a crime would be Outcast. She says if that’s her child she will be leave with him. Half of Goodists leave. Undecided explains she’s really Outcast.

6. The original Outcast asks Goodist judges if he can have his own group and sign a peace treaty. Goodist judges agree. EVERY Outcast joins with original in new group even though he’s not given them the laws of his new society. End of Day 1

Day 2. Moderator starts by reminding groups where we were at end of day 1 and telling Outcasts we’re going to give them a chance to change their minds about the new society since they all joined without having a clue as to what they were joining. She tells original Outcast to take two minutes to come up with the laws of his society.  (AGAIN, moderator must let student draw his own conclusions. Do Not Get Involved)

7. Moderator takes the eight remaining Goodists to the hall to come up with treaty points while Outcast leader explains new law. Five minutes later Goodists come in to discover three girls left Outcasts and are solitary. Before the new leader speaks his group other than about five on the outside huddle and do a “Go Team!” chant then “1-2-3 break hand clap thing.”) New Outcasts are caller Murica and they are based on the USA and first amendment. One of remaining two undecideds joins Murica society. No one else changes sides.

8. Now President of Murica, his vice president and the three Goodists judges meet to go over peace accord. While they are signing the treaty, one of the three solitary Outcasts asks permission to speak to Murica President and Goodist judges. She requests that the three solitary outcasts be allowed to join together. President says yes. Judges say only if the three girls are willing to move far away so they won’t be a threat to the Goodists or the new Murica society.

9. Treaty signed, but before that one of the Goodist judges tells new president she thinks the three girls really want to assassinate him and take over Murica. President asks judges if he could please have armed  secret service agents to protect him. Judges say yes. Three Murica citizens are chosen to serve as new president’s protection. President tells one agent to go kill as many of the new group as possible; however, while the treaty was in the process of being signed, 1 of the girls in the new unnamed group was silently going to the outer areas of Murica and asking individuals to join her group.1^st one she asks is the undercover Outcast who posed as an undecided. The group tells her if she doesn’t join them, they’ll “kill” her instead of letting her return to her group. (At this point they call me over and ask if that would be permissible. I decide yes and tell girl if that’s the case, she will need to sit next to the wall and not say anything. Since her leader and the judges are signing peace accords, no one really notices this conversation taking place. At this time new group also tells me they’re really a violent group set on overthrowing the Goodists because they want the bubble of non-nuclear wasteland world the Goodists have created. They just want to make sure that’s okay. It is. It’s THEIR game.) Girl chooses to join new group. New group sends girl over to Murica to start recruiting for their society.  Every individual who wasn’t part of the original huddle does so. The ones in the huddle do not. (interesting.) The girl originally recruited was actually one of the huddle leaders. (also interesting.) The new people in the group sit a little apart from the original third group except two people. One: the original recruit who chose not to die and a best friend of one of the girls.

10. While peace treaty being signed Goodists left at home sit silently watching and listening. They’ve never been given a voice, so they don’t try to use it now. Muricans from huddle keep talking to each other about what they want to make Murica and throwing out comments they hope President can hear. Three secret service agents pretend to have guns and keep pointing them at new group, but they say nothing about how some of their people are moving over there. Suddenly as the President and judges are signing the treaty, one of the new recruits (best friend) runs across the room and assassinates the most vocal of the Goodist judges.

11. CHAOS ensues. Kids are loud and confused and the everyone backs away from the judge except the other judges. The judge says “You can’t do that” then looks at me for confirmation.
Game over and we go back to a circle to discuss what’s happened over the course of the last two days and how the same thing happens all over the world. We discuss Utopias, WW2, 1984, The Hunger Games, dystopian literature in general. Tomorrow we’ll break it down even further and talk about WHY THIS MATTERS.

Every year this exercise AMAZES me. I’m stunned by how it plays out. It’s an RPG, so the students have to control the outcome. If the adviser tries to, it destroy the learning outcome. Don’t do it. Let the first amendment work. It will.

You do have to facilitate. Since it’s a debate and an RPG. You have to be in control of the classroom at all times. You can’t be too strict because you have to let things happen. Make sure the debate goes on for at least a day so you have plenty of discussion points. If for some reason the debate stalls say you’re taking off your moderator hat and become an undecided and ask questions that will lead to conflicted answers. If you empower the students, they will start taking part in the discussion. In all the years I’ve done this (almost two decades) only two classes ever didn’t make this work. One year every kid in the class went to the Outcast side.  (AWESOME year, by the way.) When that happened I let them lead the discussion on why. It turned into point/counter point. The usual second and third days were spent studying first amendment cases and high school students and how they affected kids in my school district.  The second year it didn’t work, I messed up. I did it at the end of my first set of first amendment lessons, so about three weeks into the semester. The students didn’t have enough confidence in their voice in my classroom yet, so they were afraid to debate each other and afraid to question me if I threw out those “devil’s advocate” type scenarios. Wait to do this until the end of the third six weeks and it should be fun.

I loved this week. Once again, the first amendment wins and once again my students leave the classroom with a lesson they’ll never forget.

It’s kind of like tricking them into working HARD without them realizing it. Sneaky teacher. Yeah, that’s me.

*This lesson started as a lesson from the Freedom of Information in Texas organization. It was a freedom of religion exercise about the Church of Goodism. The kids never got into it like that, so I changed it. Turning it into a dystopia and making the religious element one of several points makes this a lot of fun.