Teachers: The Good, the bad & the ugly

Some teachers will stay with you forever. 

Miss Brown was one such teacher for me. In a sea of unkind, cruel faces she smiled. That’s what I remember about her. That she smiled and sometimes all it takes is someone smiling at you when you are a little person overwhelmed by eczema, family conflict, and maths to know that the world is okay.  

My son may or may not remember his Grade 1 teacher but I will. She’s the kind that makes each child feel like they have their very own personal tutor and cheerleader. I have watched him grow and flourish under her covert strategy to “stretch” him.  Teachers like her are rare and we are the lucky few.  

Then there are those teachers who really should not be teachers and boy, oh boy, have I had some of those in my life. Back when corporal punishment was still allowed at school in South Africa (yes, I am giving away my age), one particular teacher who I still have the displeasure of seeing as an adult, took his role as “disciplinarian” so far, that many of the children that he beat up still have PTSD as adults. 

Another gremlin teacher was the one who in my last year of high school, when I called the home phone (again, I am giving away my age) of the young gentleman who I had romantic links to…took the phone away from him and spoke to me. Yes, she was at his home and she was not there to give him English lessons. She made that very clear to me.

It was World Teachers Day last week.  I wrote a couple of thank you notes. I also processed some of the old emotions related to teachers that were not so cool. That’s how these little memories came into story form now.  

It’s also the reason I need to give a shout out to my MOM friends who have to be teachers every day of their lives but have also had to formally become teachers this year because of the Covid-19 pandemic. 

Girls, I see you.  I see you struggling to keep yourself sane.  I see you carrying the emotional load of your family.  I see you trying to create balance. I see you dying of loneliness.  I see you having to put your dreams on hold for another year. I see you watching as things fall apart.  I see you cooking endless meals, doing endless shopping, providing snack after snack.  I see you trying to limit screen time while seeing the need for technology. I see you having to deal with your judgy in-laws, neighbours, and the rest of the peanut gallery. I see it all.  

…and I salute YOU!  This Teachers Day and always because we are all in the shit together.  

May history judge us kindly.  

xoxo

I had to dig DEEP this week

I had to dig deep this week. So bloody deep this week. For patience. For strength. For resources. …and it was my little people who held me with their warm apple pie, fresh out of the oven, as I put my feet up after having held a sacred space for friends who lost their mother and had to bury her within 24 hours, in keeping with Islamic protocol. Apple pie, warm apple pie and my people saved me on Monday.  

I had to dig deep this week. So bloody deep this week. For restraint  For compassion. For calm. As I witnessed one human being abuse their power over another …and again, it was my people that brought me back, reminding me that my dear Aunt who passed on (a few months back) had her birthday this week and how she made the world’s meanest chicken pie. So, I made a chicken pie, said the rosary and we celebrated her life, with cake and all!

I had to dig deep this week. So bloody deep this week. To accept the many many wonderful doors of opportunity flying open in my face; To find the words to acknowledge the phenomenal teacher my son got as a gift for his Grade 1 year on World Teachers Day; To salute my daughter for standing up for a friend who was in trouble at school; To contain the love in my heart for the beautiful bottle of red wine my husband came bearing. 

The best gift we can give to those we have passed on is to LIVE!

…But here I am this Friday, having just heard of the passing of one of my best friend’s dads.

And, so I dig deep again, to find that well of love inside me.   It’s hard at first… But sure enough it springs up!  Springs up! Springs up! Offering glimpses of light. 

Don’t you love that!? That we are able to receive the gift of LIGHT when we need it most? Do you have a name for that which is always available, which is infinite, which is always accessible?

I’m just so grateful and I wish you that and so much more, my friends!

Grateful always,

Lee

The Power of Prayer

I was sitting in a quiet spot, working on my laptop. Next to me sat a group of preppy, old women drinking Earl Grey tea.

 

They were doing a bible study, or something like that.

 

I wanted to move seats but thought, gosh maybe these old broads could throw me a bible verse or two that would end up changing my life.

 

Well, that did not happen.

 

Instead, they reminded me how terrible, racist people hide behind religion. They reminded me exactly how bigotry flourishes and how ignorance breeds hatred.

 

They ended off their moaning session with a prayer. I took the cue.

 

“Excuse me”, I said. “Would you mind if I joined in? I feel a prayer in my heart.” 

 

Of course they let me. What choice did they have, really?

 

I jumped straight in:

“Lord, bless our prejudiced hearts, free us from all mental slavery and superiority complexes, inspire us to see that ALL people are made in your EXACT image and that by loving them, we demonstrate our love for you. Amen”

 

Their “Amen’s” followed by smiles told me that they did NOT get my drift.

 

I didn’t care.

 

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