Why I still believe in public education

Disclaimer: It is not my intention in this post to convince you to send your kids to public school.  Or private school or homeschool, for that matter.  I cannot do that, nor is it my place to do so.  Only you know your kids, so you get to decide what you think is best for them.  The thoughts below are merely my opinions and some observations I have had lately. In a word, I still believe in public education because of teachers.

 As I was sitting at a teacher award banquet earlier this week, I was struck by the number of outstanding individuals that were all sitting in the same room.  These people are intelligent, creative, passionate, and driven.  I have learned a lot in my two years of teaching, and most of it is attributed to the fact that I have stolen ideas from my coworkers.  Most of all, though, the people in the room that night are caring.  Many of them pour their lives into their jobs, and it is certainly not because they get paid to do so.  They do it because they love kids, and because once they get into the classroom and see those faces, caring is really the only option.

I am not discounting the fact that there are bad teachers.  Of course there are, just as there are lazy, apathetic people in every profession.  In my lifetime, I have only had a very small handful of these teachers, but it only takes one teacher like this to know that they do exist.  But at least in Norman, the number of good teachers far surpasses the number of bad ones.  I wouldn't send my kids to school just anywhere.

 One of the speakers at the banquet that night is a SWAT Team member.  He told a story of entering a house one morning where two children, ages five and ten, lived.  The kids' parents were passed out on the couch from a drug overdose.  Meanwhile, the children had gotten themselves up, gotten dressed, and were in the kitchen packing their lunches.  When the SWAT Team member walked over to talk to the children, the oldest one looked up at the officer with tears of desperation in his eyes and asked, "Sir, will we still get to go to school today?"

 You see, for many kids whose home lives are wrecked, public education is their best hope.  It is at school where they can find consistency,  get a balanced meal, learn the skills they need to break the cycle of poverty and abuse in their families, feel safe, and hear from at least one person that they are worth something.  I always try to remind my students that, in the words of Aibileen from The Help, "You is kind.  You is smart.  You is important." Because once my students walk out the front doors from school every day, I'm not sure when they will hear those words again.  I can't even wrap my head around what some of these six-year-olds have to deal with on a daily basis.

I am not always great at my job.  In fact, there are days when I feel like a complete and utter failure.  On those days, I am especially thankful that I am not in this profession alone.  They say that "it takes a village to raise a child.". As part of "the village," I am glad that there are other teachers who are willing to put more work into a child than only what is necessary.  I'm inspired when I see other "village people" making shy kids speak up, teaching a child to read despite the fact that his parents never finished high school, or donating a coat to a boy who doesn't have one.  Ultimately, I believe that it is a parent's responsibility to raise his or her children.  But for those children whose parents cannot or will not do that, someone must stand in the gap.  And that is where "the village" comes in.  Because teaching isn't primarily about academics; it is about love.

 No, I don't think public education is the answer for every child.  But I do wonder where some kids would be if they didn't have a place to escape the harsh reality of their broken homes for eight hours a day, or a teacher who believed that they had inherent value because they are made in the image of God.  I think that public schools may offer the first glimmer of hope that some kids have ever had.  And that is why I haven't given up on it yet.

"You Find Out Who Your Friends Are"

Andrew likes to laugh at me for loving country music. So lately he's been laughing a lot because country is practically all that's been on my radio or coming out of my iPad on Pandora. I like country because of the twang in the artists' voices, but I also like it because they sing with a certain degree of truth that other genres of music don't always capture. The songs tell stories, instead of repeating the same meaningless lines ad nauseum. Okay, maybe not all of them. "Red Solo Cup" is certainly an exception. You really gotta check that winner out. But, I'd choose a good Zac Brown tune almost any day over Lady Gaga singing about her "p-p-p-poker face (mum mum mum mah)" or Justin Bieber pouring out his 18-year-old heart to his "like baby, baby, baby, oh". Seriously, people? I could write better lyrics than that (and so could my four-year-old nephew).

Sorry; the original point of this post actually wasn't to try to convince you to change your radio station. This song by Tracy Lawrence came on the radio earlier in the week, and although the music isn't my absolute favorite, the words have been bouncing around in my head for the past few days.

"Everybody wants to slap your back,
wants to shake your hand
when you're up on top of that mountain
But let one of those rocks give way then you slide back down,
look up and see who's around then.

This ain't where the road comes to an end,
This ain't where the bandwagon stops-
This is just one of those times when
A lot of folks jump off.

You find out who your friends are
Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think 'What's in it for me?' or 'It's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who your friends are".

We have had a crazy and difficult week. Andrew was in the hospital on Monday for surgery. Don't worry and please don't ask questions; he's really fine. But I don't think I realized what an emotionally exhausting week this would be for me, and Andrew didn't anticipate the amount of pain and nausea that follows basically any kind of surgery.

Then on Friday, a tornado touched down about half a mile from our house. I was freaking out, naturally, while Andrew was standing in the front yard gazing up at the sky. I guess native Oklahomans have heard enough boys crying wolf about tornadoes to not take any weather reports seriously. Last night, though, there was actually reason to be concerned as trees were uprooted and roofs were torn from buildings. News reports stated that eleven people went to the hospital in Norman. Thankfully, everyone we know is completely fine.

I tell you about these two incidents because I think it's easy to forget how wonderful people are until things like this happen. Not a lot of people knew about Andrew's surgery, but everyone who did went over the top to make sure we were alright. We had more offers for meals than we possibly could have eaten in a few days. His buddies came to visit him during the day while I had to be at work. When the tornado came, so many people sent us text messages or called to check on our safety. I've been overwhelmed by the kindness of our friends and family this week, despite the fact that we haven't done anything to deserve it. Thanks, friends. We are truly blessed.

Chicken Fried

Since my brother's birthday was this week, Andrew and I went down to Texas to celebrate with him and to see my parents. The weekend ended too quickly, as it always does. It's true what people say about there being "no place like home".

We have worked hard to make this little house in Norman our home, and we do love it. When we move away from here one day, I think I'll always look back fondly on the summer nights when we sat out on the back porch with friends, roasting s'mores in the fire pit and listening to someone playing the guitar. Or the winter evenings when we huddled in the living room with homemade hot chocolate, laughing until our sides hurt during a game of charades. We have a good life here.

But when we want to escape, really escape, we go to Mom and Dad's house in Flower Mound where, for one weekend, we get to shirk the responsibilities of the daily grind and truly relax.

Sometimes it feels like I have grown up ridiculously fast. Getting married shortly after my 21st birthday was young, even by Oklahoma standards. I graduated early and jumped straight into teaching. We started choosing our own insurance, paying our bills, and making all kinds of "grown up" decisions. I wouldn't go back and do any of this differently, but there are definitely times when I feel overwhelmed by how quickly and drastically life changes.

So when those days come, we go to spend time with family, and for once the world stops spinning so fast. I hope we provide this kind of place for our kids one day- a place full of happy memories where time seems to stand still and suddenly the "urgent" (petty) things in life are not so important anymore. I hope that one day our grown boys will sit in the living room and watch golf with their daddy while our girls stay up late talking on barstools in the kitchen. The love of a family is one of life's greatest gifts, and I'm infinitely thankful for mine.

It's good to be reminded that, in the midst of so many changes, some things will always be there and be as good as ever...like Mom's fried chicken and the simple joy of being with those who you love the most.