Peace, Love, and French Fries

Peace Be Unto You – a standard getting in the Arab world predominated with members of the Muslim faith and a greeting I used, in its Arabic form, to break cultural and language barriers with a parent.

So grateful for that greeting, the father gestured that I sit down before he did, with a genuine smile and a knowing approval that we shared a willingness to dialogue no matter the barriers. What I discovered later, is that we also shared a deep and abiding love for our sons.

Happy at his son’s progress report, he said he would treat his son to french fries. Not not just any french fries,  but the ones from Ted’s. He gestured about the cost of those, rubbing his fingers together, the international sign of expense, but a with a gleam in his eye and willingness to treat his son.

I shared with him that in my faith, Lent was coming and that we can’t eat meat on Friday and I, too, enjoy Ted’s for fish and fries. A translator helped with the logistics of the conversation, but I knew with the smiles and gestures that he understood.

My love for my son has been put to the test this week. My bond with him, forged in the womb, is a connection primal yet spiritual; with the yearning to protect him from the evils of this cruel world.

Peace be with you and with your spirit, is a standard response in my faith with a handshake or a kiss of peace.

Peace through fear, rage and betrayal is what I knew to give to my son to stabilize his soul and keep his faith, along with french fries and a milk shake.

As my Lenten journey soon begins,  I harken back to my early years in the Church, in the  Latin Rite. I close my eyes and knowingly can feel, see and hear the smells, the mysterious language, memorized but understood;  my visceral images of faith, unity and security.

Pax Dómini sit semper vobí- Et cum spíritu tuo. As-Salaam-Alaikum.  Mualaikumsalam.

Two  different languages and experiences; common and familiar.

Love, peace and french fries…

Simple love for our sons.

Burning Desires

I’m burned out. I’m exhausted. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m overwhelmed.

Yet words written by my a friend to me today rocked my inner core:

“You are a ridiculously strong capable smart compassionate incredible caring mother and woman.”

Facing death, destruction and denial, I have been in a downward spiral of survivor’s guilt and soul crushing grief over the past month.  Grief and sadness that I have covered up with lipstick, scarves and a smile.

How could she still see me as strong when I felt so weak? How did she see me as caring mother and woman when I have been short-tempered and angry? How does she see – see me?

So we talked further, and I had an idea. I am writing all the negative hurtful things that have been weighing me down out on paper and burning them at midnight.

Cleansing my inner self and creating a new year’s path of positive thoughts and actions these negative weights will float away as ashes.

I AM a ridiculously strong capable smart compassionate incredible caring mother and woman and 2018 will start off with my burning desire to be who I know I am.

 

 

Check Your Spelling

Writing this post this morning, I’m procrastinating from entering my interim grades and getting ready for school. My spelling and retelling of the past month’s events in my life are a necessary and bewitching challenge.

Grateful for being a “highly intelligent woman,” I still am crippled by the stress, grief and exhaustion of being a “first year” teacher in an urban school district, the sole competent member of my family’s bloodline after the sudden death of my only sister, matriarch of an above average sized family (both in size and number) and an entrepreneur trying to rekindle the flames a business that was put on the back burner due to disabling conditions that took away my spark for a few years.

Shall I just take the easy path – notes, rhetoric, tests, lather, rinse, repeat? To me that is a “wonderlandering” downward slide down the wicked path of mediocrity

Or do I Sinatra it – do it my way? Taking myself, yet again, down the challenging, relevant, albeit difficult and thorn filled path; casting a spell of relevance to corrupt the minds of youth?

And in so doing,  in taking them away from the fiery caldron of acceptance of norms created to control, and thereby charting a course towards a brave new world of courage, acceptance of difference and a remonstrance of the common, do I self immolate?

Either way, I’ll be sure to run a spell check…

 

 

 

The Story of Barbara Jean Harrison

Middleburgh & Hudson Falls

 

Barbara Jean Harrison, 49, formerly of Hudson Falls, passed away on Sunday, November 19, 2017 at her home in Middleburgh, NY surrounded by her loved ones.

 

Born on April 17, 1968 in the Bronx, she was the daughter of Richard Harrison and the late Grace (Gorman) Harrison.

 

Barbara was a 1989 graduate of Hudson Falls Central School; a proud Tiger, she cherished and wore her class ring every day.

 

Fabulous, funny and fantastic are but some of the words to describe Barbara Jean.

 

Her joie de vivre, and honest and sarcastic way of giving it to you real will be missed in this world of artifice. Her wit and wisdom often was hidden under her shell of beauty (and her damn mascara) and those of you with Dollar General, Rite Aid and Walmart stock may be taking a bit of a hit to your portfolios.

 

Her dance moves were legendary, and her smile contagious.

 

So no tears, let’s crank the 1980’s rock and roll or 1970’s disco, watch some Magnum PI or Blue Bloods, Bonanza or John Wayne movies, read a cheesy romance novel, celebrity or sports magazine,  put on some red or pink lipstick, eat some Stewart’s Death by Chocolate ice cream, Combos or a candy bar and pig out!

 

Besides her mom, she was also predeceased by her paternal grandparents Arthur and Louise (Luise Maier) Harrison and her maternal grandparents Thomas and Loretta (Conlon) Gorman.

 

Left to cherish her memory besides her father include her sister, Kathleen Fuller and her husband Jeffrey of Colonie, and their children, Barb’s beloved nieces and nephews, Jeffrey Fuller (Allison Jordan) of Philadelphia, PA, Christina Fuller of Warminster, PA and Jonathan, Caroline and James Fuller with whom she colored pictures, played checkers and watched tv with while she lived with them in Colonie.

 

Her Schoharie County family were many and a special shout out goes to Jade, her jewelry wearing soul sister and her children (including Luke), Larry, the strong Quiet Man, Kira, the lunch box police and her getaway van driver, and Corrinne the enforcer. They loved her like a sister, allowed her to flourish and bloom, and eased her passing from this world to the next with kindness and compassion.

 

At Barbara’s request there are no calling hours or services at this time. There will be a celebration of her life at a later time as Barbara wants to swim with the dolphins in the ocean.

 

Donations may be made in Barbara’s memory to the Jean Emerson Scholarship, co/ Schoharie County ARC,. P.O. Box 307 Schoharie, NY 12157.

 

Arrangements are in the care of the M.B. Kilmer Funeral Home, 82 Broadway, Fort Edward, NY 12828.  For online condolences and to view Barbara’s Book of Memories please visit www.kilmerfuneralhome.com.  

 

Summer Enrichment

Here in upstate NY the days are either extremely hot and muggy or cool and rainy. I sit here with a pile of undone chores and an exhaustion level ( Over 9000) in my bones after finishing a grueling 4 week, 10 hour a day summer enrichment program where I had the opportunity to teach and create memories with rising 5th graders.

The goals – stop the summer slide, feed bodies, and create fun opportunities in a safe environment.

Accomplishments – traveled the world, wrote poetry, created carnival games, put on a show, made new friends – oh yeah we read 9 books, did math problems, experimented with scientific hypotheses, learned foreign languages, invented, painted, sculpted, created – and we laughed. We laughed a lot.

We Sang. We danced. Every day!

Then there was the day we ran out of hot dogs for dinner. Yup. I was, to use a nice phrase – agitated.

But we had beans. Lots of beans. So growing up in an oftentimes impoverished household with depression era parents, I thought well there are buns and beans, let’s have bean sandwiches. We have bananas. We have cookies.

Thinly veiling my disappointment of not having what was on the menu, I danced into the room singing “We have beans on buns with bananas. Beans on buns with bananas.” Picture a hot, sweaty, miffed 6′ 2″ woman singing a silly song at the top of her lungs. I still don’t know how I mustered (haha) the wherewithal to think of that.

My sweet little girl M, so shy and loving comes up and says, ” What a wonderful feast will we have together – it’s like we are a family.”

Yup summer enrichment.

 

 

 

 

 

Teaching, Learning, Life

As the semester comes to a close and along with it, my first full school year back in the classroom; I’m still as excited to be doing this today as I was in September.

I’ve had bumps along the way, tears were shed, self-doubt crept in, mistakes were made (again and again), but the awesome questions that keep coming, the laughter at my corny jokes, and the smiling (and sometimes fearful) faces of those that sit before me thirsting for knowledge inspire me even on my darkest days.

My own children ask me, “Mom, why do you read so much?”

Answers:

1) I enjoy reading.

2) I enjoy learning.

3) I would be a charlatan if I stood up in front of my students every day and expected them to take risks and learn if I wasn’t willing to do the same.

Our library is being cleaned out for renovations and an entire set of history books were up for the taking. I now have 6 boxes of books in the back of the land yacht (Psst don’t tell Papasaurus yet!) and as I excitedly looked through the them, I let out a squeal of delight about books on obscure Civil War battles that made the librarian chuckle. He said, “You are proof that one man’s trash is another’s treasure. I’m glad someone will put them to good use.”

Albert Eistein is credited with a quote, “Once we stop learning, we start dying.”

I have a long life ahead…

 

 

 

 

Bitc%es, $luts, False Accusations and Forgiveness…

I think I’ve calmed myself down enough now so that I am not shooting boogers out of my nose with my sobs to try to write down how humiliated I felt tonight when an obviously overwrought, understaffed and poorly trained Stewart’s employee falsely accused me of not paying for my gas.

See, I had to stop for gas after staying very late after school tonight and before I had to go run around again with the typical night of sports mom practice pickup and drop offs.

Knowing the closest gas station to my job is the Sitterly Road location, I stopped at a pump, took of the gas cap off, put in my SEFCU card, the pump turned on, I selected Regular Unleaded and expected to put $20 in my tank and head home. Of course,  as my cold arthritic hands often do, I missed at $20, so I went to $20.05 and stopped.

Staring at the $0.99 coffee with any gas purchase sign on the gas pump in my hand, and with pangs of hunger racking my body (See I missed lunch today as it’s Regents Week starting tomorrow, and I was running to drop off stuff all through my office period!) I decided to go back into my truck,  get my purse and grab a quick cup of tea and those addicting chicken salad sandwiches on white bread. I left my truck near the pump as it wasn’t busy and walked into the store.

After filling my cup, I grabbed my sandwich, went to the register and took out my receipt after asking if I could get the tea for $0.99 if I didn’t pay cash for my gas. She said, “Did you put $20. on pump 8?” I said, “Yeah here’s my receipt,” to which she said,”It’s not clearing on the computer.” I said, “Well I showed you my receipt it’s OK right?” or something to that effect and she mumbled “Yeah,” so I walked out, holding the door for the woman who had been sparring with me for the creamer as per usual, I  used the last of the half and half and had to throw out the container closest to me.

I put my purse, tea and sandwich in my truck and was about ready to get in when the other employee came running out after me, yelling, ” I need to see the receipt. Your pump is showing you didn’t pay!” She was rude and accusatory and many people outside looked at me as if I was trying to steal gas! I was shocked and said.”Yeah here’s my receipt.” I then showed her my receipt and, never apologizing, she mumbled something about a lot of drive offs, and begrudgingly walked back into the store.

As I got into my truck, it really started to hit me. I was falsely accused! I could feel the anger bubbling up in me like the chili in the pot they were stirring inside the store when I went to the counter to buy my tea and sandwich.

I was feeling all kinds of things, mostly humiliation, embarrassment and anger. Someone at Stewart’s Corporate Offices needs to know about this!  What if I didn’t have my receipt? What would she have done, call the police?

I didn’t know her name, so I was going back into the store and getting it. I was going to show her that I don’t steal and I don’t lie and that she should apologize.

Well things went from bad to worse. I went back in to get her name because she made me feel humiliated and no one treats me like that. She still didn’t apologize and actually started yelling at me saying that she didn’t need to listen to me yelling at her.

All she had to do was apologize to me –  “I’m sorry,”  would have stopped it right there. Yeah I would have been mad but I would have been better, but  she just turned her back on me like I was nothing and walked away further humiliating me.

Then I was got mad. I said stuff like, you don’t treat me like that, who do you think you are, I’m a teacher at the school around the corner.! Why would I buy a sandwich and tea if was going to steal gas!

Then I heard “Why don’t you leave you slut!” It was a man’s voice. I couldn’t look up.

WHAAAAT?

Then I heard her call me a bitch. Then I called her a bitch. Not my proudest moment.

I couldn’t believe it! I’m a slut; a bitch? Just for wanting an apology? For asking the employee her name so I could follow up?

Furious, I stormed out. Tears erupted from my body. I called corporate and left a message for their customer service team. I was sobbing at this point.

Then I thought, “I want to speak to someone now.” I called the number back again, tears streaming down my face barely able to contain my sobs so much so that the woman I spoke kept saying try to calm down, try to take a deep breath.

I told her I had to drive home and that my phone was going to die and that I had to drive my son to practice.

When I got home I received a call from a store manager who immediately apologized. He asked me if I could tell him what happened. Crying, I retold the story. I could hear him gasp. He couldn’t say I’m sorry enough. For the first time an employee actually said something that I believed.

However, he was mistakenly called as it was not his store. He even went on to say that he would call the District Manager whose store it was and explain to him what happened so that I did not have to get myself upset. He apologized over and over again. He also said something about bringing it up at the Corporate Office customer service meeting tomorrow.

Soon after, I received a call from the District Manager and I was feeling my tears turn to anger again. Having to recall this a 4th time and hearing his disdain for my side of it and backing up his employee of 10 years, I was shocked. He said he would pull the tape. He said he had lots of drive offs. Not really what I wanted to hear, my phone died mid conversation and I sobbed all the way to my son’s practice and back.

When I returned home, I had received a call back, not from the District Manager, but from the first manager making sure that I had his phone number and if the district manager didn’t call me to feel free to call him.

After trying unsuccessfully to contact the District Manager again, I called the first manager and wanted to thank him for his call. I left him a message that I my phone had died when talking to the DM and that I  appreciated his compassion and follow through.

As hours have passed, I think of all my friends of color, my students, my friends. If I don’t follow through, these types of situations can continue to happen.

Stewart’s DEFINITELY needs to retrain their employees about accusing people falsely, how to process whether or not someone has potentially forgotten to pay and to just teach their employees HUMILITY!

Do I want her fired? No. Do I want an BIG LOUD apology from the highest levels? YES, YES I do!

I will be teaching my students about this. I will be reminding them to ALWAYS get a receipt, to get a name, to be sure before accusing someone. If they make a mistake, to be humble and apologize.

See this slut and bitch never forgets. but she will eventually forgive. Might as well make it a learning opportunity…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tidings of Comfort and Joy

As I sit here, in my warm home with snow gently falling outside, a eerie sense of calm surrounds me.

Yet, I have no tree, I am not even close to being done with my shopping and I have two more days of work this week.

Then a dear old warrior friend posted this: 18 Strings of Trouble – “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” and I hearken back to the days when I felt like my life was a war zone. Fear, uncertainty and pain, was all I knew.

Reminded of that yesterday with a student in crisis (The similarities to my own personal situation at that age were astounding!), I now realize why I have been placed where I am.

The beauty and wisdom of knowing and recognizing it brings me great comfort and joy.

So enjoy the snow, take you time, crank up the music and ENJOY. Take care of you!

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

via Daily Prompt: Calm

In Sickness and In Health

No, I’m not talking about my wedding vows, I am talking about writing and creating the perfect lessons for my substitute teacher to continue the learning process with my vast array of students when I am not there.

The health and well-being of my students is always on my mind. Why is X suspended again? Why is L not going to class on time this week after I finally talked with him and thought he was on track? Why is C such a wizard and what can I do to challenge him so he is not bored? Is M still worried about her grades so much she doesn’t sleep at night?

See I believe that teaching is my calling. I have told my students that I take the whole “In Loco Parentis” part seriously. I am their parents while they are in school, but I’m not really am I?

I can’t ground them for being a jerk and skipping class, buy them ice cream on a day they are sad or give them a hug when their spirits are weary can I?

I try when I am there to be a shoulder to cry on, a sounding board for their concerns and a listening ear, even when they are screaming. I teach business, but in my job as CEO of my classes, I blur the lines between management and employees.

All I can do is make sure my substitute understands that they are MY kids and provide lessons to help to carry on my instruction.

In sickness and in health…

Trump the Triggers

After a few months off, I feel the need to address what people have been privately asking.

The shock and despair that some are feeling is because they ignored, mimicked, minimized and flat-out discounted the anger and frustration that a great deal of hardworking American people were feeling.

Here are some examples in my personal life:

1. My new college graduate daughter that had, upon returning to campus in January (after working a full day and driving 4.5 hours) to deal with her “special snowflake” of a roommate who thought she could just remove a kitchen cabinet door from their shared college apartment (University property BTW) and then spend 45 minutes sobbing at the RA’s office when I told her to “Go and get the RA because I want it documented what happened here and that my daughter will not be paying ANY damage bill for your choices.” The Director of Housing was called and along with the RA returned because I had, “Made her frightened and triggered.” I said,
   “I don’t care.” My daughter then regaled them with tales of what her roommate had been doing to her (which was reported) and demanded an emergency meeting. I received a phone call as I was almost home from my daughter stating that the RA had placed Play Dough in front of them both to help them deal with their stress. My daughter, angered by the infantilization of a serious breach of university policy, opened the can, placed the Play Dough back in and stated,” That she didn’t want Play Dough, she wanted to know what disciplinary consequences the roommate (a 21-year-old woman BTW!) was going to face and that she wanted official documentation that none of her choices were going to charged to her as she was working to pay for college. You know, like what GROWN UPS have to do when faced with legal wrongdoing!
2. My eldest son, having to deal with a roommate, that instead of paying the gas bill decided to take the money and fly off to Europe to see his girlfriend and travel. His parents tried to blame my son and the other roommate for not paying him because you know, their special snowflake would never lie. It took me threatening expulsion from the university and legal action before they paid the back charges. Meanwhile my son and the other roommate had to either shower at work or at a gym at school for 3 weeks until the utilities could be paid for and restored under my son’s name. The student NEVER apologized to my son and still doesn’t think he did anything wrong.
3. My high school aged son was assaulted in school by a teammate, out of the blue and without provocation. He suffered a punishment of missing the game that they were waiting for the bus for when it happened. My husband and I had to take time to fight for our son (missing work) only to be told that the child, because he had a tough childhood and was emotionally traumatized,  using my son as his punching bag, was only getting suspended from school because removing from the team was too harsh of a penalty. Would that be what was done to my son if the roles were reversed? Who determines whose trauma is worse than another’s?
4. My middle school aged daughter, falsely accused of using the N word by students who wanted to see, after the truth came out, if they could do a BLM type action.( (This was when Baltimore and Ferguson were burning and BLM protesters were looting and pillaging.)  She was surrounded in the hallway by two teachers and the accuser without any back up or representation from anyone for her and bullied into a false confession. A confession was overturned by the Principal after I had to intervene with the help of my friend, an African-American affirmative action professional, who, upon hearing me tell her the tale, Said ” Oh no! Not my baby girl! You don’t raise your children like that!”.

These are just four examples of my own personal experiences with the broken system of social justice that was thrust upon good, honest people over the past decade.

If you believe that I am deplorable, a racist, a misogynist, a homophobe, or not tolerant in any way than obviously you don’t know me or my family at all and you should not be in our lives.

The divisions thrust upon us by the media dwelling on the negative do not exist for me and my friends of all colors, creeds (or lack thereof) or sexual preferences (or lack thereof).

To those who supported any of the non selected candidates for President, I am sorry you are hurting, but to disparage, deny or discredit my feelings are no better than what you have accused those who don’t think, believe or act like you to have been doing.

We all matter. We all have to work together.

Fighting won’t solve anything.

Trump the Triggers, roll up your sleeves and start working to be more united.

“If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand.” Mark 3:25