Reflections

It has been a LONG time since I posted but the election returns and Trump's victory give me much pause for thought, reflection, prayer.  In addition, I got this screed from husband Bill about disinheriting Matthew because we had somehow raised a racist and a misogynist.  Of course, he's been drinking most of the morning.  I read a great facebook post by Anne Lamott, entitled "I don't know."  It was helpful and a good response.  "I don't know how this happened.  I don't know what to do.  I don't know why some of my good friends and family voted for Trump."

What I do know how to do is to remain hopeful, to carry on loving and caring for my family and friends.

COVID

I wrote this for Facebook and rediscovered it today. I thing it bears repeating. 

I have been a teacher for forty three years and this distance learning is the hardest work I've ever done...harder than parenting three children under five while working full time...harder than holding down two part-time jobs and visiting my dad in the nursing home every week while teaching and acting as an assistant principal....harder than teaching AP US History, AP Government and AP Euro, all at the same time, while providing college counseling services for O'Hara grads.  It's HARD.  Teachers are frustrated.  Parents are frustrated.  Kids are frustrated.  But, after 43 years I know one thing.  We will get through this.  Our kids will be fine.  The children of Katrina, many of them who missed school for almost a year, are doctors and social workers and teachers and engineers and delivery men & women and police officers.  Is it hard to teach your kids while holding down your own job? For certain!  Is it hard to try and pretend that everything is okay when you're not sure how you're going to pay the mortage.  Absolutely.  Give yourself and all of those you love the gift of grace.   If a worksheet doesn't get finished, it's okay.  If your kindergartner melts down and refuses to do one more thing, it's okay.  If your high schooler goes on strike, it's okay.  If your middle schooler looks up all the answers for his virtual quiz on line, it's really okay.  We will all be okay.  Know that what you are doing has never  been done before.  We took an education system of both public and private schools and in literally two weeks turned the whole enterprise on its head while at the same time we organized hot lunches for families in need and cared for our own children and families.  Let's be PROUD of what we have done and what we are doing.  The kids will catch up.  Life will return to something like it was before, if not quite exactly as it was.  Let's keep going for a while longer, keeping people safe, especially the most vulnerable in our society.  Let's keep praying while our churches are closed because God isn't only there.  Let's keep loving and hoping and doing this very hard thing.  And, we will be better and stronger and richer in the things that really matter when it's over.  Grace is my prayer for all of you who are struggling (and for me as well).

 It's been a LONG time since I updated you, blog.  But, there's something about spring and my 66th birthday that tells me it's time.  My favorite season, I think, remains fall BUT spring is growing on me.  :)  There's something about the earth coming back to life that inspires me in my brand new 66th year and has rejuvenated my spirit.  I planted some bulbs last fall, not sure I was getting them deep enough, but they are up!  I cannot wait!  I tried some in a big planter but so far that has failed.  I will give them a big longer before abandoning that effort completely.  

And, I have accepted a new job.  I am excited!  I have applied for Social Security and Medicare and while all of that is a bit scary, I am ready for the challenge.  I still have to figure out a Medicare Advantage plan.  So much to do!

The Movie and the Cathedral

I had the honor of attending a Kansas City Film Festival showing of "When I Last Saw Jesse", a documentary entry about the disappearance of Jesse Ross on November 21, 2006, from the Sheraton Hotel in Chicago.  Jesse, and his brother Andy, had been students at O'Hara when I was the dean of students.  I remember Jesse as a bit of a quirky kid who was a solid student, a Boy Scout, a lover of music and some practical jokes.  He had close friends but he was not a member of the "popular crowd" and that suited him just fine.  A kid with red hair and freckles, his friends and family called him "Opie."  After graduation, Jesse attended UMKC.  There he joined the Model Union program, the organization that brought him to Chicago as a freshman in 2006.  And, in Chicago he simply vanished, disappearing after a late night session from the Sheraton Hotel.  The film featured interviews with Jesse's family and his OHS friend, Ralph Parker (who tragically died in a car accident in 2010).  Several former OHS teachers attended the screening as did Jesse's mom and dad and some family members, most of whom I did not recognize.  It was heartbreaking and sad and caused me to wonder anew, "what happened" and perhaps more importantly, "why did this happen?"  Jesse was clearly in the wrong place at the wrong time.  His parents have never recovered from their loss and the disappearance continues to haunt them and his family.  The great "why?" will always haunt me as well.  

And, then, yesterday, a Monday, I learned that the great cathedral of Notre Dame had burned.  Fortunately, it did not burn to the ground but the simple fact that something almost 1000 years old had burned, had been seriously and perhaps permanently damaged, rocked my world.  Cathedrals aren't meant to fall down; they were built to last, as a tribute to the God for whom they were built and for the people who did the building.  People don't last.  Relationships don't always last.  Most material things of this world do not last.  But, the Cathedral was something through which we could glimpse "forever".  It would always be there; I could visit it when I retired or when I had time or when I wanted to because it wasn't going anywhere.  And, suddenly, at the beginning of Holy Week, it's not gone, but it's definitely not whole either.  I'm not French and I've never visited Paris but somehow the loss of the Cathedral, like Jesse's loss all those years ago, makes me less certain of the world.  I who am always optimistic and confident am suddenly less so and I don't like it.  I like my world being stable and predictable.  Of course, friends die and move and jobs and circumstances change but people don't disappear without a trace and cathedrals don't fall down.  Except they did.  And, I don't like it.  

Some of My Favorite Sayings and Quotes

I am most definitely my father's daughter.  Dad had a host of colorful sayings that I can still remember.  You need that like a Hog needs Easter.  Nervous as a whore in church.  Up a creek without a paddle.  Out in left field, balls falling all around him.  And there were SO many more.

I love a pithy phrase and a good quote.  These are some of my favorites.

"It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission."  (I've run a LOT of my life using that simple rule which I first heard from Archbishop O'Hara's long time bookkeeper, Mary Quanty, when I asked her oh so many years ago if it was okay to dispose of several old adding machines that hadn't seen service since the late 1960s.)  Ah, she said, "no one will know and it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission."

"Trust, but verify."  Ronald Reagan

"Keep Swimming"  Dory

One that I recently discovered completely resonates with me.  "Love many, trust few, and always paddle your own canoe."  (Sometimes my penchant for independence drives my family and loved ones crazy, but long ago, I decided that "paddling my own canoe" was the only way I could be certain of arriving at my destination.  I learned this one the hard way as an Admissions Counselor for Rockhurst University back in 1982-1983.  One of my first assignments was the Catholic College week program in Omaha, Nebraska, and I was up there for my very first official visit at a college program at Mount Michael outside Omaha.  Since there were many of us, we were traveling together and we decided to eat first before arriving at Mount Michael.  Well, the food was late, we were late, Father Chris (I believe) was highly upset!  I always drove my own car from that point forward!)

"When you come to the edge of all the light you know, and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen:  There will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught how to fly."  Barbara J. Winter

"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.  Attitude, to me, is more important than facts.  It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do.  It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill.  It will make or break a company, a church, a home.  The remarkable thing is we have a choice very day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day.  We cannot change our past, we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way.  We cannot change the inevitable.  The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude.  I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.  And so it is with you.  We are in charge of our Attitudes".  Charles Swindoll

Hope is a golden cord connecting you to heaven.  This cord helps you hold your head up high, even when multiple trials are buffeting you.  Hope lifts your perspective from your weary feet to the glorious view you can see from the high road.  You are reminded that the road we're traveling together is ultimately a highway to heaven.  I am training you to hold in your heart a dual focus:  My continual Presence and the Hope of Heaven.  Sarah Young
(I have always thought that St. Paul perhaps had it wrong.  Love, hope, and faith abide and the greatest of these is Love.  For me, I think it's Hope.  It's what gets me up in the morning and keeps me going!)

Remembering Barbara Bush

It's been a while, blog.  I haven't really forgotten you, but I haven't felt the urge to write in some time!  I wish I could be like the diarists of old who each day took the time to write even a few lines.  Historians of our time will have a tougher time navigating the reams of paper that we will leave in digital form on Facebook, twitter, and instagram.  

And, then over the weekend I watched the funeral of Barbara Bush and read the many eulogies of her as wife of one president and mother of another.  The most moving tribute was a piece in the New York Times explaining that at her core she was a mother.  Jon Meacham, the historian and Bush family friend, called her the mother of the greatest generation and perhaps she was.

I am attracted to her story because in many ways it draws me back to my own past, my parents who were shaped by the Second World War and the 1950s that followed.  I am the same age as one of the Bush children, Neil, younger than George W. and even Jeb (which surprised me).  As a woman of her time, Barbara Bush inspires me.  Maybe it was her not so skinny size, her "I'll be damned if I color my hair", her outspoken (at times) advice to her large and I'm sure sometimes difficult family, her love of swimming, her passion for literacy, her sass, her style, her compassion.  She seems more real to me than some of the other first ladies.  Nancy Reagan, so distant, Rosalyn Carter, so southern and Baptist, Melania Trump, so foreign and wealthy, Michelle Obama, so smart and savvy.  Barbara Bush was someone that I could relate too.  She had that rarest of things, a strong political marriage that survived the death of an infant daughter and the raucous contest that is Texas politics.  She didn't much like to cook and from what I can gather, she wasn't so good at it either.  But, she seemed human somehow.  She was wealthy, yes.  She had a certain style.  She came from east coast money (at least some) and she married well.  But, what I most liked about her is that she felt comfortable, or so it seems to me, in her own skin.  She knew who she was and why she was.  As I commented on Facebook, she showed up and made a difference for good.  She's a worthy role model and one of my heroines in a world that desperately needs them.  Rest in peace, Barbara.  We've got this and your work, although not done, is in the hands of others, myself included.  We are ready for the challenge.  Would that we all make as much difference as I believe you did.

Post Election Reflection

Like many Americans, I woke today with a heavy and troubled heart.  Our newly elected President represents for me much of what is worst about our people and culture.  We have no guide but his own words and they are troubling.  Building a wall, banning refugees, attacking a Gold Star mother, making fun of women.....these are things that candidate Trump did because they played well with his base audience, primarily white men who have found themselves caught up in a world that is rapidly changing and that they feel is leaving them behind. (For historical reference this happened in the 1920s and it gave rise to the revival of the KKK and the worse features of fundamentalist Protestantism (Scopes Monkey Trial) and a resurgence of nativism. )  Now president elect, he has to find a way to be the leader of all of us and I'm not sure he is tempermentally suited or intellectually prepared for the task.  But, we are stuck with him.  And, so what to do?  I cheered myself with the fact that like all Americans, I got up and went to work as I do every day.  I posted some hopeful, optimistic thoughts and took comfort from the words of faith and courage that others posted.  But, I am fundamentally saddened and it may take more than a few weeks, days, months and much reflection before I can move from sadness to action.  I can protect the children entrusted to my care and do everything I can to dispel the ideas that Trump seems to embody, that it is all right to bully those less fortunate or strong than you, that it is all right to appeal to the worst in our character and not our best, that it is all right to fear those who are different from you. For my own sanity, I think I will try and walk more, cook more, knit more, read more history (it gives me great comfort); and, later, when I am a little less sad and more emboldened, I will find a way to help those less fortunate than myself.  I will remain engaged in politics and encourage our best and brightest minds to do so as well.  I will smile and hope and love and greet all I meet with enthusiasm and grace.  Tomorrow, because St. Paul had it wrong....love, faith and hope abound and the greatest of these (for me) is hope.  

Another New Years' Day

Welcome, 2016.  The year began quietly but sadly.  I learned that my former professor, and later, good friend, Jack Dudey, died on January 1st.  I had not known that he was sick since I had not talked with him in several months.  Over the years, he would call with his characteristic "bark".  I always knew who was on the other end.  His death ends a chapter for me in some ways.  Jack was my advisor at William Woods, someone who helped through more than one crisis of faith as an undergraduate.  I still remember a particularly difficult day as a student teacher.  I called Jack at his office and he told me he was going to be home after school, changing the oil.  I stopped by and sobbed while he changed the oil in his driveway.  After I had related my sad tale of teaching middle school students, Jack rolled out from under the car and said, "there, do you feel better?'  And, in fact I did.  Then, there was the day in February as a first year teacher.  It was President's Day, I had the day off, I was teaching at Camdenton High School, living at home, and thoroughly miserable.  I spent the day in Jack's office where he listened and suggested that perhaps I should go back to school.  That summer I enrolled in a reading specialist program at MU, but when I didn't enjoy that either, Jack suggested a talk with then head of the geography department, Jesse Wheeler.  That conversation changed my life and introduced me to a discipline that has shaped the way in which I see the world.  Over the years, I would call Jack whenever I had questions or moments of doubt.  He was unfailingly supportive and encouraging.  With him I could talk about anything, from what behavior was "normal" for toddlers to whether it really was a good idea to become a principal at age 60.  Jack was a good friend and a terrific listener, someone with whom you could be yourself, however mysterious and allusive that "self" remained.  I regret that I didn't see him or talk with him these past few months.  Rest in peace, teacher, friend, mentor, advisor.  A poem for you by John Schlatter.

I am a Teacher

I was born the first moment that a question leaped from the mouth of a child.
I have been many people in many places.
I am Socrates exciting the youth of Athens to discover new idea through the use of questions.
I am Anne Sullivan tapping out the secrets of the universe into the outstretched hand of Helen Keller.
I am Aesop and Hans Christian Andersen revealing truth through countless stories.
The names of those who have practiced my profession ring like a hall of fame for humanity.
Booker T. Washginton, Buddha, Confucius, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Leo Buscaglia, Moses, and Jesus.
I am also those whose names and faces have long been forgotten but whoses lessons and character will always be remembered in the accomplishments of their students.
I am the most fortunate of all who labor.
A doctor is allowed to usher life into the word in one magic moment.  I am allowed to see that life reborn each day with new questions, ideas, and friendships.
An architect knows that if he builds with care, his strucutre may stand for centuries.
A teacher knows that if he builds with love and truth what he builds will last forever.
I am a warrior, daily doing bagttle against peer pressure, negativity, fear, conformity, prejudice, ignorance and apathy......

A New Chapter

Today, it finally hit me...my life is about to dramatically change.  I'll still be doing what I love, working with kids and teachers, but I will be doing it with far younger students, Pre K-8, with new families, in a new setting, St. John LaLande parish.  The people there have been so welcoming and gracious and I am excited to begin, mostly.  I was able to move in a few things to my new office and as I drove home, I was struck by the finality of my last few days at OHS.  I have been there SO long that I know every nook and cranny of the school.  I can barely find the restroom at SJL.  I will SO miss the people that I've come to know and love.  They, for so many reasons, are a part of my extended family.  I rarely get to see my brothers and their families, so the OHS faculty have become my other family.  They literally served as second parents for my kids; they nourished my faith; they supported me when I needed help and cheered my successes.  They cannot be replaced and I don't intend to do so.  I plan to see them often.   It will take a bit more work to keep up with Jane, if only I could convince her to sub for me occasionally.  And, so life goes on.  It's a marvelous, wonderful journey that I'm on and I plan to enjoy every moment of my new world.

Turning Points

As I near the end of my thirty-one years at Archbishop O'Hara as a teacher and administrator, I have been thinking about turning points...those moments in life when as Robert Frost relates, "two paths diverged in a sunny woods..."  For me, there are some significant turning points....

Choosing William Woods...
Leaving my job at Camdenton to begin a Masters in geography at Mizzou....
Leaving my job as an adjunct at Mizzou to take a job as an admissions rep at Rockhurst...
Leaving that job to do graduate school at KU...
Leaving grad school to take a job at OHara....
Getting married at age 30.....
Having babies.....
Being offered a job in Liberty and turning it down when Sarah was 5 and Matthew just a baby....
Moving to Lees Summit....
Becoming the counselor when Lisa quit and Jane was in the hospital......
Moving to the administrative team.....
Deciding to get a second Masters.....
Leaving OHS....

I often wondered what would have happened had I chosen different options?   I would likely be still very much a teacher....married, perhaps....a mom I hope....ah, life is a complicated journey, filled with bends and twists...

Lasts and Firsts

It's been a sad, mad, crazy, glad weekend. Our last child, Matthew, graduated from Rockhurst University. All of our kids had the advantage of a LaSallian education in high school and a Jesuit education in college. I always tell people....it's the best combination...Lasallians for your heart...Jesuits for your head. It was my last OHS graduation as a teacher and administrator and I'm not afraid to say that I cried more than once today. Looking back over my 31 years at OHara...it's been a life shaping, life enriching, terrific journey. I've worked with the best people anywhere...Jane, my partner and compatriot; John, my student, my colleague, my boss; Walter, an inspirational leader who always saw the big picture and Stuart who always remembered the little things; Larry, an authentic gentleman in an age that's forgotten what that means and a loyal, compassionate friend; Margaret whose passion for education is still inspiring. Melissa, the rookie who grew into a terrific teacher and represents all that is good about OHara; Mary, whose passion for OHS enriches our students; Bob, my social studies sidekick; Pete Williams, still one of the most intelligent, compassionate women that I know; Lori,the younger sister I never had; Debbie, still one of my closest friends, Denise, whose honesty and friendship never fail; Lisa,who for years has kept me organized with love and affection; George, whose LaSallian spirit is an example for all of us; Br. Chuck. Br. Richard, Br. Chris, who taught me what it means to be LaSallian; Nancy and Steve, whose dedication knows no bounds; Kathy Duggan, whose passion for life inspires me; Anne Roth, who invited me to be a part of her family and for which I am forever grateful; Terry Downs who shared not one but two jobs with me; Jerry and Cathy Meyer who taught me more about courage and faith than I could learn in a lifetime... And there are so many others...I know I've forgotten several people who touched my heart and life...and those who are gone but not forgotten..Anne Hennon, Marge Wempe, Jimmy Johnson, Marvin Tucker. And students...so many terrific kids who have grown into compassionate, faithful men and women, some with families of their own. I hope I played some small role in their learning and faith journey; they certainly taught me so many lessons...the importance of community and faith...the values of zeal, patience, persistence and determination....the joy in victory and sadness in defeat...the humility in success and the determination in failure...OHara helped me raise my kids, nurtured my soul, grounded my faith and made work truly a labor of love.

Things we might be able to live without

For no particular reason, I started thinking today about things the world could easily do without...stuff that we just don't need, stuff that adds no beauty or grace or peace to our troubled planet. So, what are these things we can live without? Tattoos for starters. Really? Who needs a tattoo? They are expensive and painful and although there are some tattoo artists who are truly gifted, wouldn't they be better serving the community if they painted church windows or billboards or almost any other thing? Aspartame. Seriously. My best friend's science students tell me it's awful stuff. It causes headaches and maybe cancer. Diet Soda drinkers...try water. Chihuahuas. I love dogs. I do. And my Maltese is the epitome of a high strung barking dog. But chihuahuas? They are ugly and mean. And, so, what else? Mosquitos. Except as food for hungry purple martins, what good are they? Maybe they're God's way of reminding us that He's in charge, but seriously. They spread disease. And are annoying. Breast implants. Really. Seriously. The world does not need them. Women are beautiful...with small boobs or large. Stop trying to fix what's not wrong. Let's let plastic surgeons worry about cleft palettes and burn victims. Cup A. Rejoice.

Random Thoughts

It's St. Patrick's Day, 2015, and my birthday is tomorrow. I cannot believe that I will be 60, provided I make it through tonight. As I have gotten older, especially these last few months, I've been thinking so much more about my parents. These memories are bittersweet, of course. I'm also on spring break and it's been a relaxing one so far. I had an interview yesterday at St. John LeLande, which I think went well and presents challenges and questions. For some reason, I was researching mixing bowls this evening and discovered a set I want to order. I love to cook but hate the mess, interestingly. But, these bowls reminded me of my mom. My current set is one that my mom bought for me and, of course, that made me miss her even more. And, it is a reminder that I have to get my shingles shot, which I promised my mom I would do when I turned 60. Of course, I would rather be shot than go to the doctor weighing so much...more work to do! I guess that's the point...life is always there, presenting us with challenges and questions. Embrace it and move forward! Here's to the next 60. :)

Reflection on Loss

We received word today that the brother of a student was murdered in Kansas City, Kansas. Few of the details are known, but it made me think. There are at least three of our current students who have lost a loved one to violence. One of our assistant principal's nieces was murdered many years ago in a small town in Kansas and my sister-in-law was killed by her husband. That's a lot of violence and I teach in a small (300 student) Catholic high school in the midwest. What are other families and schools enduring in other areas? Violence is not confined to inner city streets or rural midwestern small towns. All of us are affected by violence. How can we reduce reliance on violence as a solution to our problems? I grew up in a gun owning household where my dad owned guns of every size and type. A part-time deputy sheriff for Miller County, he had a gun that he routinely carried when he worked that job. He was a bird hunter and had a few shotguns. My brothers grew up learning to shoot but I didn't care that much about it. My sister-in-law is a gun owner and both of my brothers have collections. So I am not anti-gun. But. I do believe that easy access to weapons has made it much easier to solve disputes with violence. And, I don't just blame easy access to guns for the rampant violence that threatens my security and santiy. Video games glorify violence as do too many of the songs and artists that our young people admire. The lack of social service support for segments of our population leads to an uptick in the number of domestic assaults. The free and open internet makes violent images instantly available. We routinely (it seems) watch henious violent acts against journalists, soldiers, and others by terrorist groups in the Mideast and elsewhere. I wish I had an easier answer. I wish it troubled more people that images of violence and stories of loss make up much of the day to day reality for hundreds and thousands of people. Simply turning off the television or turning away doesn't solve the problem. Our leaders grapple with so many tough societal issues. Solving these issues will take determination, sacrifice, commitment. We cannot leave our children their children a legacy of violence. Too much is at stake.

Things I've Learned at the AP US History Reading

For those of you who are "unfamiliar" with the world of AP, I am currently in Louisville at the AP US History Reading which means that I have joined 1400 of my closest friends to read about 1.4 million U.S. history exams. It was a spur of the moment decision since they only called me on Wednesday of last week. I have always wanted to attend so that I could learn more about how to help my students do well on the exam and now I am here. So I have learned (so far) 1. That I really, really, really miss my family 2. That I will never again complain about grading my students' essays. Today, alone, I've graded 200 exams. ARGH. 3. That I cannot sleep in a bed (I need my recliner) 4. That no matter how bad my students write, they write 10x better than any essay I've read so far. 5. That this experience is something I should probably only do once. 6. That AP US History teachers are a terrific group of people, passionate about their subject and their students. 7. That Louisville is an awesome city with lots to see and do and that I don't really want to see any of it or do any of it. 8. That my family can survive just fine without me (for a while). 9. That having a roommate is not as much fun as it was in college (although she's really nice) 10. That I need to walk more. 11. That feeding 2000 teachers requires food that is not necessarily delicious (although it's filling). 12. That AP teachers really, really enjoy the cocktail reception. 13. That AP US History is being "resigned" and that we better teach our students to WRITE, WRITE, WRITE. 14. That I love my hometown of KC. 15. That reading student papers for 8 hours a day is NO FUN. 16. That I likely have ADD as I cannot sit still.

Memorial Day, My Mom, Facebook, Daughters, and other thoughts

I have always loved Memorial Day, maybe a little less now than I did as a girl. As a young girl, I accompanied my grandmother and dad as they took flowers to the cemetery for what grandma called, "Decoration Day." Sometmies, we had as many as thirty containers of flowers, mostly fresh picked and kept in the refrigerator. Grandma had these white cardboard containers that she would fill with irises and peonies, keeping them in the refrigerator if they bloomed early. I have tried to keep up the tradition in greatly reduced fashion. I went to Tuscumbia on Saturday and in the pouring rain put flowers at Grandma and Grandpa Wright's graves, my mom and dad, my dad's baby sister who died in 1919, the same year that he was born, Uncle Bob Marshall and Homer Clay. I met Connie at the cemetery and we had a great lunch at Eldon, enjoying catching up on our lives. She's been my best friend for as long as I can remember and when I see her it's as though we haven't been separated for weeks or months or years but days. As for the rest of the weekend, it was all right. The girls have been fighting and that always upsets me. However, as I knew they would, they made up over pizza and beer. Every time they fight, I despair thinking that somehow I did something wrong, treating one differently than the other; and, every time they make up, I relax, thinkig that maybe I did everything all right after all. I have thought a lot about my mom this weekend, too. She died six years ago yesterday, May 25th. In some ways, it seems like it was just yesterday...and in others, it feels as though it happened eons ago. I think of her often. Mostly, I wish that I had been closer as she grew older. We talked almost every day but in some ways she remains an engima. She was a private person, exceptionally so as I reflect back now, and I realize now that there was a LOT I didn't understand about her. I think I'm a little more transparent, more like my Aunt Betty, perhaps. As I grow older, my fondest hope is that my girls fall in love and live in Kansas City so I can be there for them everyday...going to the kids' soccer games, celebrating every birthday and school play.

I love this quote from NCIS.

I love this quote from NCIS. It's one of my favorite episodes, featuring McGee, Gibbs, Vance, and the North Korean agent Khi. "Anyone can achieve their fullest potential. Who we are might be predetermined, but the path we follow is always of our own choosing. We should never allow our fears or the expectations of other to set the frontiers of our destiny. Your destiny can't be changed, but it can be challenged. Everyman is born as many men, and dies as a single one."

Finding a Job

It's an open secret that I have been seeking a new job. I don't WANT a new job. I love my current job. In fact, I think of it not so much as a job as a way of being. I love teaching. I love working with kids. I love the people with whom I work. I love my Celtic family. I love everything about it. And, yet, I am looking for a new job. About three years ago when we heard that the dream of a new Catholic high school in eastern Jackson county might, indeed, become a reality, I decided with my good friend, Lori, to go back to school and earn a second master's in education administration, something that would presumably qualify me for carrying on in my role as assistant principal at O'Hara when it became St. Michaels. I loved going back to school, although now as I think about it, I can't really see why. My dad was sick, I was driving to Jefferson City every weekend, I worked part time at Legacy and I still had a full time job. But, Lori and I persevered and by the fall of 2012, we both had earned our masters. I applied for the job of principal at O'Hara when Dr. Redd left and was frankly quite relieved when the search committee gave the job to John O'Connor. Last year, for about two weeks, I applied for a principal oeping in our diocese at St. John LeLande. I had second thoughts after hearing that another long time elementary principal was interested in the job, someone who I did not know very well, but someone who had my respect. So, I withdrew that application and carried on at O'Hara doing what I love to do. And, now it is a year later, and the uncertainty of what is happening at O'Hara and what will happen at the new St. Michael's has many of us scrambling and reviewing our resumes. O'Hara is closing at the end of next year, in May of 2015, and the new school is opening. The school is the dream of Bishop Finn and John has been named the new principal. He's made it clear that he would love for me to work with him at St. Michaels and I would love that too. A new building, a sense of adventure, a new vision and mission, yet deeply rooted in Catholic values and tradition. But, I do have a principal's certification now, having paid $500 for the test and I think that I would like to try being a principal on my own. It's scary. And, a part of me would much rather remain right where I am, but right where I am is not going to be the same after the move to the new school. There will be immense challenges, attracting new students, developing a curriculum. And my biggest worry is that after all of that work, and the building of a new school, that the students won't come. There are few feeder schools in eastern Jackson county and the Lees Summit schools are among the best in the state. St. Michael's tuition will be at least what OHS tuition is now, some 7500. And, lots of folks can't afford that, especially when they are happy with their public schools and their parish school of religion programs. And, so I worry. I trust that there's plan for me and so I wait, praying for insight and courage.

Reflection on Teaching

Perhaps it’s because our school is closing, or perhaps it’s just my age, but I have become increasingly reflective about teaching as an art and vocation. Tonight I listened as Lisa Fox delivered the NHS induction address. She had been invited by the students because of her passion and amazing enthusiasm and I was proud to have been her teacher and to be her colleague. I remember Lisa as my student. She was bright, quiet, and passionate about learning even then. Somehow I didn’t remember her contagious enthusiasm for life that manifests itself in every hello and hug. She has a talent for making every student feel valued and cared for and I remember that her passion for kids is why I, too, became a teacher. Teachers are never happier than when one of their students who suffered through American Government or AP US History becomes a teacher; it’s how we live on, it’s our legacy as teachers. And, as I listened to Lisa’s talk I thought that she is speaking to students who will one day becomes teachers and she will have played a role in their decision and then, they, too, will teach students who will teach others. It’s a form of immortality and in so many ways it is quite humbling. Thank you to all of my friends who teach. Know that you are doing God’s work and nothing is more important. Thanks, Lisa, for reminding me of how important we teachers can be, and for helping me remember why I became a teacher in the first place

I am a mess!

It's Holy Week. And, I am a mess! What a difficult month...and it's just half over. First, I cannot explain how much the killings at the Jewish Community Center and Village Shalom have impacted me. Who would think that 115th and Nall was a dangerous place to be on a Sunday afternoon? I have been at the community Center a number of times. Everything that I know of the people and place tells me that it was a haven for families and students, supported by Jews and Gentiles alike. What sense can we make of such random violence? Truly, perhaps, our world has gone mad. And at Village Shalom....a woman visiting her mother as she did every Sunday...a Catholic, an occupational therapist. It strikes too close to home. She was my age. She visited her mother every Sunday. I did that for my dad. Who will explain the tragedy to her mother? Who will hold her hand and comfort her? Who will visit her every Sunday? She left three adult children and they will carry on...as I hope mine would do. It's too hard. Where does this violence come from? How does one hate someone simply on the basis of a religion? Or a language? Can we teach our children to be better than we have been? I am reminded of Dr. King's quote, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." As the Newtown Parents have often said, "love wins." Always. Every time. That is a difficult thing to hold on to in these dark days. And, our school. Our lovely, precious community of learners. We are closing. As that fact has sunk in, we have all become sad, and perhaps a bit bitter. And yet, our students persevere. They put on a fabulous show in Spamalot. I had my doubts at first. Monty Python? Really? But, who could not laugh? The students gave their all...they worked countless hours to master lyrics and dances that they had never heard of or performed. Every single student made me proud to be associated with Archbishop O'Hara High School. Who possibly thinks that closing our school is a good idea? Where in Kansas City could one find such a warm, loving, supportive community? Kids on stage with special needs...Kids who are top in their class academically. Athletes. Non athletes. Geeks. Robotics kids. Nerds. Popular kids. Not so popular kids. Transfer students. Students who started at OHS four years ago. Freshmen. Seniors. Somehow, each has found a home at O'Hara. It was incredible. And, someone, somewhere thinks it's a good idea to close us? A school that literally screams community to all who will listen. A school that stands vibrantly strong in the face of the kinds of hatred that drove the killings at the Jewish Community Center. Do we have our problems? Of course! What community of 300 does not? There are kids who do what they shouldn't...and adults too. But, we make it work. Our students are confident, successful, happy, loving, committed to peace and justice. We love each other. And, yet we are closing. There are teachers who have lost their jobs. And, students who love those teachers. What do we say to them? How do we heal? It's been a tough month. And, we are not quite through. But, it's Holy Week. The Passion of our Lord is before us. Somehow we hold to hope. We hold to the promise that tomorrow will be better. And, we commit our heart and strength to making it so.