On Friday, I officially was declining to talk about, or work on, several issues in my life. I'm taking a break from it for these 2 weeks of Christmas break from school for Pyrope and Obsidian. This has necessitated me to tell several people that I won't talk to them about issues until January 4th. For those that don't know me and the problems I'm facing, each wishes me a good break and that my problems will be gone or greatly minimized after my self imposed break. It makes me smile wistfully. I'm taking a break because I know that none of my problems will be going away any time soon. A couple are problems that waxes and wanes, but they are more lifetime issues. I just have the misfortune that all of them are in a season of waxing at the same time. With the major additionally situation of Obsidian's school closing at the end of this school year. It is my only issue that there is a clear end date to.
This break is mainly to strengthen me to make it until July. The number of issues and hurdles is daunting when I think about them collectively. The comments of wishes that things will be better come January from those who do not know much, and comments from others who know more that they hope I am finding releases and supports I need, I've been thinking about how I can do that. I was reading about how writing about your feelings has a positive impact on your view of the world, your problems, and yourself. And I came to the realization, I can write. I can write of the road that is so challenging. I don't know where this road is going, or how long it will be. I know it will change. I can live in the today that today is.
Saturday, December 26, 2015
Thursday, December 17, 2015
What makes it the 'right thing'?
Last night, the school board voted to close Obsidien's school at the end of the year. The decision had been made months earlier, but it was the formal vote that made it official. Set it in stone.
I was open that I was going to attend the meeting. I kept being asked why. I knew how the vote was going to turn out. Showing up wouldn't change anything. It was just going to be very difficult to sit through and hear the actual vote. To choose to watch the actual formal decision to do this. To bear witness to the formal decision. I could only respond because it is the right thing to do.
Outside of members of the administration that participate in the public board meetings each meeting, there were 3 of us from the school. The principal, one teacher, and I. In addition there were principals from 2 of the other 8 other schools. A reporter. And two other members of the community. The three of us from the school sat in a row, flanked by the other two principals. Silent tears sprang from the three of us as the formal recommendation was read by the Superintend to the Board. We had all read the exact words before. We had all heard them spoken before. But the tears came. And continued as the motion was accepted and seconded. And continued as each member of the board spoke saying how hard the decision was to make, and it was a low point, a very deep low point, to make the vote they were about to make. Each of them alternately avoiding looking at the three of us, and studying us. After the motion to close the school unanimously passed, a board member immediately asked to speak. She was granted permission. Her question was one I had voiced privately and publicly at a meeting discussing the closure. How was this to be communicated to the families? The superintendent replied a letter had been given to the principal already to send home with the students the next day. He then confirmed had the principal confirm that he had the letters and was prepared to send them home. The principal attempted but his voice failed him, so simply nodded his head in acknowledgement that he had the letters and was prepared to send them home. The board member spoke again, saying that it was clearly stated by the parent that the parents did not want to find out through social media, from their child who had heard it at school, or a news agency about the closing. They wanted to hear it directly from the District and that they wanted to be the ones to tell their children. And she felt that it was a reasonable request, and the respectful thing to do as a District. Send it home in a letter the following day, the parents would have already found out. The District has the means to push out messages immediately, through email, through texts, and through robo calls. Another Board member said that was a perfectly acceptable use of those forms of communication. The treasurer piped in his agreement that it was an acceptable and legally sound way to communicate the closing of a school. Another board member chimed in that it should be to all families with children enrolled in the district, as it would effect the entire district. At that point the Superintendent asked the communications director if she could put that together and send it out tonight. Her very short response was "I'll do it immediately." She picked up her purse and materials and left. I've never seen her leave a meeting early. I mouthed "Thank you" to the board member who had spoke and advocated for the parents to be told immediately, that night.
The remaining items in the meeting I didn't hear a word that was spoken. I was reflecting on how much harder it was to hear the words than I was anticipating.
This morning I went out to breakfast with my best friend. The tears came again, easily. By nature, I'm not one to cry easily. I was trying to find words to describe to her, and even to myself, why I felt it was the right thing to directly expose myself heartbreak to attend and bear witness. My friend articulated it better than anything I had come up with as a response or for myself. I was there for support. To publicly show I am willing to walk even the hard road with the school in support of the school. For the principal. He had no real choice in attendance. He did not bear witness to the meeting alone. The teacher and I from his school family were there, sitting and listening and mourning with him. Two of the other principals in the district were there. To put a literal hand on his back as it was read. Knowing that they moved up to principal when he did or if their building was sitting on land considered better for the needs of the BOE and transportation department, it could have been them.
Yes. That was it. It was the 'right' thing because I was choosing to allow my emotions be seen in a public meeting. I was choosing to support and be witness to the school both at events of proud accomplishments, and events of sorrow. I was choosing to support the person who had to be there.
I was open that I was going to attend the meeting. I kept being asked why. I knew how the vote was going to turn out. Showing up wouldn't change anything. It was just going to be very difficult to sit through and hear the actual vote. To choose to watch the actual formal decision to do this. To bear witness to the formal decision. I could only respond because it is the right thing to do.
Outside of members of the administration that participate in the public board meetings each meeting, there were 3 of us from the school. The principal, one teacher, and I. In addition there were principals from 2 of the other 8 other schools. A reporter. And two other members of the community. The three of us from the school sat in a row, flanked by the other two principals. Silent tears sprang from the three of us as the formal recommendation was read by the Superintend to the Board. We had all read the exact words before. We had all heard them spoken before. But the tears came. And continued as the motion was accepted and seconded. And continued as each member of the board spoke saying how hard the decision was to make, and it was a low point, a very deep low point, to make the vote they were about to make. Each of them alternately avoiding looking at the three of us, and studying us. After the motion to close the school unanimously passed, a board member immediately asked to speak. She was granted permission. Her question was one I had voiced privately and publicly at a meeting discussing the closure. How was this to be communicated to the families? The superintendent replied a letter had been given to the principal already to send home with the students the next day. He then confirmed had the principal confirm that he had the letters and was prepared to send them home. The principal attempted but his voice failed him, so simply nodded his head in acknowledgement that he had the letters and was prepared to send them home. The board member spoke again, saying that it was clearly stated by the parent that the parents did not want to find out through social media, from their child who had heard it at school, or a news agency about the closing. They wanted to hear it directly from the District and that they wanted to be the ones to tell their children. And she felt that it was a reasonable request, and the respectful thing to do as a District. Send it home in a letter the following day, the parents would have already found out. The District has the means to push out messages immediately, through email, through texts, and through robo calls. Another Board member said that was a perfectly acceptable use of those forms of communication. The treasurer piped in his agreement that it was an acceptable and legally sound way to communicate the closing of a school. Another board member chimed in that it should be to all families with children enrolled in the district, as it would effect the entire district. At that point the Superintendent asked the communications director if she could put that together and send it out tonight. Her very short response was "I'll do it immediately." She picked up her purse and materials and left. I've never seen her leave a meeting early. I mouthed "Thank you" to the board member who had spoke and advocated for the parents to be told immediately, that night.
The remaining items in the meeting I didn't hear a word that was spoken. I was reflecting on how much harder it was to hear the words than I was anticipating.
This morning I went out to breakfast with my best friend. The tears came again, easily. By nature, I'm not one to cry easily. I was trying to find words to describe to her, and even to myself, why I felt it was the right thing to directly expose myself heartbreak to attend and bear witness. My friend articulated it better than anything I had come up with as a response or for myself. I was there for support. To publicly show I am willing to walk even the hard road with the school in support of the school. For the principal. He had no real choice in attendance. He did not bear witness to the meeting alone. The teacher and I from his school family were there, sitting and listening and mourning with him. Two of the other principals in the district were there. To put a literal hand on his back as it was read. Knowing that they moved up to principal when he did or if their building was sitting on land considered better for the needs of the BOE and transportation department, it could have been them.
Yes. That was it. It was the 'right' thing because I was choosing to allow my emotions be seen in a public meeting. I was choosing to support and be witness to the school both at events of proud accomplishments, and events of sorrow. I was choosing to support the person who had to be there.
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