Why “I CARE” about school shootings…

We are looking at school shootings incorrectly.

• The young men, and it will almost always be young men guaranteed, who carry out these actions are not “evil monsters” born to create mass carnage and death in our nation’s schools. They are not fueled by “the Devil” or “filled with evil”, but created and developed within our own society.
• Schools are NOT targets for these young men because they are “soft targets”. They are targets because a particular school is the place school shooters associate with all loss of help and hope in their own life.
• School shooters motivations will ALWAYS include a desire for others to experience the pain, chaos, confusion, and hopelessness they feel in their own lives, and this is also a major factor in why they choose schools. They will also believe that others are incapable of understanding the depth of the suffering in their own lives and that they are “on their own”.
• School shooters will feel they do not “belong” in society. They will also feel they are “beyond” all help in life and their actions no longer “matter”. However, they choose their actions because they want to be “noticed”.
• School shootings happen because a shooter has access to guns and has lost hope in life, and having armed teachers within a school will not alter the “psychology” of a school shooter. Once the “final” decision to take action has been made, there is “nothing to lose”.
• There is never a moment when an individual who is planning a school shooting becomes “unhelpable”. The ONLY belief a school shooter needs to NOT pull the trigger is that they are VALUED in this life. If there is SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE who cares, the likelihood of a school shooting becomes minimal.
• School shootings do NOT have to happen.

As an American, as a person who has worked in schools, as a person who cares deeply about education and as a person concerned about the safety of my own family and the youth in this country, I CARE about school shootings.

I do NOT share these words freely. It is actually painful to me to write these words and to admit some of my past. I would MUCH rather bury these words deep within my own conscience and let them be, hidden. But the time has come and there are reasons to share.

I am a person who knows what it feels like to lose all hope. I am a person who knows what it feels like to not “belong” in this world. I am a person who knows what it feels like to curse the moment you wake in the morning because it simply means you have to suffer one more day. I am a person who knows what it feels like to hold a knife in my hand and wish I was not so afraid of pain. I am a person that knows if I had access to a gun when I was younger, I would not be alive today. I am a person who knows intimately the unendurable desperation life can create. I am a person who knows what it feels like to want to die, to need to die, actually.

I am also a person lucky enough to be surrounded by people who love me and care for me, ALWAYS. I am a person who knows what it feels like to have people around me who will NEVER GIVE UP! Even if I wanted them to, once upon a time. I am a person who knows the power of connection to others, even when you feel you are not worthy. I am a person who has been SO lucky in life.

School shootings can be stopped. School shootings should be stopped. But actions are required. I don’t portend to know all the actions and I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I do know this. Access to guns, especially assault rifles, must be limited, if not eliminated. More important, to myself and the country as a whole, is the need, ABSOLUTE NEED, for every child in this country to KNOW they are loved. To KNOW they are cared for. To KNOW they are valued. To KNOW they belong. I am alive today because of these two realities. Many are NOT alive today because of these two realities. This is why “I CARE”, always.

 

 

 

 

Please Listen to the Youth…

If you don’t want to be bit while swimming in the ocean, you should avoid shark-infested waters. 

• You DO want to find beaches that have taken measures and implemented precautions that limit sharks in the water.
• You DO NOT want to find beaches that have introduced ways to attract more sharks into the area.

It is time for us to listen to the youth of this country. The youth of this country have been trying to tell us important information about their lives for years, decades even, and even if we have listened, we have not taken the actions needed to make things better. The time has come to make things better.

I do not know if it is possible to stop school shootings in this country. However, I do know this. The more assault rifles that are present in this country, the more likely it is that someone who has ill intentions will have access to this gun. The easier the access to such guns, the higher the likelihood they will be used in such catastrophic situations. This is pretty simple statistics, which I learned in a school where I did not worry about someone attacking myself and my classmates with an assault rifle. I NEVER had that concern.

The children of this country, OUR children, OUR country, are afraid to go to school. They were afraid after Columbine. They were afraid after Sandy Hook. They were afraid last week. They are STILL afraid, and they are telling us about their lives. And we STILL refuse to listen.

More guns makes about as much sense as more sharks. Our children are speaking. Please listen.

Procrastination and Perfectionism (Sorry, Mr. Weinmann)

First off, I know this might make a few people angry and a few might stop reading this post altogether, but “perfectionism” is not something someone suffers, it is just an excuse. Nothing more. Anybody who claims to be a “perfectionist” should also claim to be terrified to make mistakes, to loathe looking stupid and maybe not so keen on new experiences. A person who feels anxious and afraid most of the time and a person who does not really have a lot of faith in themselves. It is a wall we willingly build to try and hide our own fears and insecurities and lack of faith in our own abilities, but it is also a wall we build to try and contain those same fears and insecurities and lack of faith from contaminating the aspects of our lives that we do think we control and handle pretty well. (At least the parts of life we believe we can fake.)

This is personal knowledge. Hard-fought and hard-won personal knowledge. I am a perfectionist, and for most of my life I have believed it is a badge of honor to struggle mightily toward perfection. Even when ALL evidence points conclusively to the contrary.

It is my goal that every post I write has some sort of lesson or small bit of knowledge, at least I hope. But this post is more of an apology. I am sorry, Mr. Weinmann. Very, very sorry.

In 7th grade Social Studies, we were assigned our very first research paper. Mr. Weinmann was my teacher and he was awesome! I loved the way he taught and I looked forward to his classes. But a research paper? In 7th grade? Dang, that definitely took away some of the joy. We were given the rubric for the reasearch paper at the beginning of the semester and we had the whole semester to finish the final copy. We were to check in throughout the semester to make sure we were on track, but in the end, our final copy was our responsibility! It was also a HUGE percentage of our grade!

I did not do the research paper. I received an “A” in Mr. Weinmann’s Social Studies class.

I did not know how to do a research paper. Even if I tried, it would not be that good. If I could not get an “A” on something, what was the use of trying? What if Mr. Weinmann read my research paper and realized that I was not as smart as I pretended to be? What if it was not “perfect”? What if I tried and failed?

These are only some of the thoughts that caused me to procrastinate. But they were enough. More than enough in this case and so many others in my life. And the crazy thing about procrastination is that eventually it DOES give you an excuse. It did for me back then, and if I let it, it will for me now. Eventually, there was too much work!

In my 7th grade mind, and even today is some ways, I could not REALLY fail if I did not try. Because I was such a good student in every other way, I somehow convinced Mr. Weinmann that I did hand in a research paper and that he somehow had lost it.

Mr. Weinmann suffered because I was too scared to try. I was too scared to even begin. I have suffered every day since. I am sorry, Mr. Weinmann. I am very, very sorry.

 

We are Failing our Kids…

https://www.inc.com/amy-morin/10-reasons-american-teenagers-are-more-anxious-than-ever.html

I read the attached article this past weekend and it struck a nerve deep within my soul. As a person deeply committed to education and the “success”, however it might be personally defined, of young people in this society and worldwide, I have seen the truthfulness of these words in devastating effect. However, what might not be so clearly apparent is that we are creating anxiety in our children because, we as adults, are lacking the ability to deal with stress and anxiety for many of the exact same reasons. It seems highly unlikely, almost inevitable, that if we feel anxiety in our own lives and lack the skills and abilities to effectively handle the anxiety and move forward in a positive manner, that we have any chance of effectively helping our kids not to feel the exact same anxieties in their own lives.

In my limited experience in education and dealing with young people in a school setting, I can state with certainty, if we truly are interested in helping our sons, our daughters, our students, our future, the work needs to begin within ourselves. There is no way I can effectively help a young person or offer any assistance in dealing with anxiety if I don’t have the ability to effectively handle my own anxiety.

Our kids are feeling anxiety because we are feeling anxiety. If we truly care about the young people in our own families and schools and the societies in which we live, we need to be certain we are setting the examples and living the lives that will benefit our children in very real ways. Just don’t tell our kids how not to feel anxious, show them.

 

An equation for change…

Yesterday, I was speaking with a young student of color at the school where I work and I was wondering why he didn’t feel very motivated to do much of the work in school. In speaking with this young man, I began to realize that he felt he was part of a system  that had very little to offer him, whether he tried or not. After all, he is a young black man in America; and to be honest, it is difficult to look around this country right now and see much hope for any, whatever tone your skin might radiate. I also realized that if it was not possible to get this young man motivated to succeed in his education, his doubts about his future are likely to become a reality.

This got me thinking. How is it possible to motivate young students in primary level education to care about their own education? This is all I could come up with…

If you want to change the system in which you play a part, you need power. If you want to have power in this world, you are going to need money (at least enough to support yourself) and influence. The amount of money and influence any person has in this world is usually directly correlated to the knowledge they possess. The best type of knowledge is wisdom; and wisdom allows us, as human beings, to wield power, money and influence in the ways possible that best benefit ourselves and humankind to the greatest extent. Wisdom, however, is wholly dependent on education. Education from school. Education from family. Education from friends and the education from the society in which we live.

Education is power. Power is change. Education is the key to any change in society.

I don’t know if I will be able to convince my young friend that education is important, but I will never stop trying, because he, and all my students, are important to me. Lastly, whatever wisdom I might possess in my lifetime, I want to use to create the change I most desire. Hope, for all.

Why I write…

This blog and these words are for anyone currently in the world of high school and for those who may have already finished high school but can still remember…

I choose to share these words because I remember how difficult high school was for myself, and how at certain times, I felt totally alone and lost and maybe (I was pretty stubborn and still probably would have fought any advice people offered) would have benefitted if someone I could respect had offered some similar stories. I don’t know if these stories will make a difference. Hell, I am not even sure if anybody will read these stories, but they are offered.

I offer these stories freely and with an open heart. I offer these stories because I worry about the students with whom I work and all the students around the world I do not know, who simply might just need to hear, “It is going to be alright.” I write because it makes me feel better to look back and see so many obstacles and to know I still overcame. I write to give hope and confidence that they can overcome also. I write because I worry about the world that we all share and want to try and make it a better place than it is today. I write because I feel that stories create that most delicate of threads that links us all, and I want to be part of that connection. I write because I can… I share because I want to… I need to…

A Student I Would Like to Meet…

A few weeks ago, I was walking around the school at the end of the day after all the students had left, and I met one of my favorite employees here at school. She is a member of the custodial staff. I have no idea why this question entered my head, but as we were talking I asked her if any student had ever said “Thank you” for the job she did at the school. I thought I knew the answer.

“Well… actually, there was ONE student who came up to me and said thank you.”

What? Really? I thought it was impossible for kids in middle school to think of anyone but themselves! How cool, I thought. That is definitely a student I would like to meet.

Thank You, Students…

When I was a teacher at a university in China, I used to become very frustrated when my students would say, “But I am just one person. I can’t make a difference. There is nothing I can do.” I worked closely with many highly educated, ambitious and very capable young people. I could not understand how such talented and promising young students could feel such despair, despondency about their ability to shape their own future and change things for the better. It never made sense to me… until recently.

The last few weeks, the world has overwhelmed me. I have wanted to run and hide. I have felt helpless and hopeless about the world in which I live and about my ability to make the world a better place.

I do not like feeling helpless. I do not wish to remain hopeless. I am neither of these.

In talking with some friends this past weekend I was reminded how lucky I really am. I have a job that I love and I am surrounded by the creative, chaotic, crazy, frenetic, mostly laughing mixed with some tears madness that makes up the world of the American teenager. I am surrounded by these kids daily and I love it.

Thank you, students. EVERY student. And please know this, if there is any help I can give, if there is any hope I can offer, all you need to do is ask. It will be done, to the best of my abilities, because we will all need help at some time and we all deserve to feel hopeful about the future.

Perception

There once was a boy, who happened to be blind, swinging on the playground at his school. As this boy sat swinging, a few yards away was another boy making funny faces and directing rude gestures toward the blind boy on the swing, as the other kids on the playground laughed and pointed as well. The boy making faces did not like the boy on the swing and could not understand that even though the other boy was blind, the blind boy always received better grades than him and was well-liked by the teachers and his classmates.

Swinging next to the blind boy was a lovely young girl, a classmate of both boys. As she watched the boy making faces and rude gestures, she felt sorry for the blind boy because he could not “see” the other boy making fun of him. She felt pain because children can be so cruel and she felt anger toward the boy making fun and her other classmates who were afraid to stand-up to this boy. She felt despair because her blind friend would never be able to “see” the world as it really is.

As the blind boy sat swinging, he smiled silently to himself. He could hear his classmates laughing and doing all the things that children do, and he could “see” the ground below his feet, and knew the pavement would be there to greet him whenever he decided to stop. As he continued to swing higher and faster, he felt the rush of the wind racing against his face and moving each hair upon his head and he experienced the strength of his own fingers as they wrapped around the ice-cube like chains. He pumped his legs in a rhythm that only his body knew, and he took flight across skies his classmates may never know. He felt thankful for the laughter of his classmates, the wisdom of his teachers, the warmth of his friends and the safety of his family. He felt especially thankful for all that he could “see” from the perch of his very own swing.

In this life, we are all in control of what we “see” and to what we pay attention. It is a choice. If one wishes to pay attention to the bullies and the negative situations which life will always offer, there is nothing to stop you. However, there is also nothing to stop you from taking a ride on your own magical swing and “seeing” things that make you feel thankful and happy. Choose wisely.

Benefits of Anxiety and Depression?

I am graced with a daily opportunity to work with some students so “paralyzed” by a fear and/or anxiety, that permeates every day they are in school, and probably out of school as well, that they are often unable to even enter a classroom in which they belong, much less function at an acceptable level. I enjoy working with these students and work to try and give them the abilities to create the success of which they are capable. But I also find myself asking questions, “What differentiates these students from the other students who roam the halls in this school?” “Does not every student, in fact, every teacher, every human being that has ever roamed these halls, not also experience anxiety?” “Why are some people able to overcome, or at least effectively deal with, the anxiety they experience and some become literally “paralyzed?”

I can not speak personally to anxiety. Actually, if you were ever to meet me in person, I would probably never admit to ever having any feelings of stress, anxiety, hopelessness, inferiority, desperation, or any other “feelings” or “effects of feelings” that might be considered as negative in any way. However, I do have these feelings and thoughts. There is no way to deny this. There are days when I find it hard to physically get out of bed because my body is too heavy and my mind has become like jello left too long in the sun. There have been many weekends in my life, probably even weeks, that I have willingly contained myself within a room or an apartment, unable to physically, mentally and emotionally walk out the door. If I am honest, I deal with depression more than I will ever admit. However, because of this invisible struggle (I hope it is invisible), I am a better person.

Why do I deny experiencing depression in my life? What if the majority of the negative effects I experience from depression (a lack of focus and energy, a general inability to deal with average life tasks and a background irritability that is not generally present) are generated simply because I “feel bad about feeling bad?” The physiological and psychological effects of depression and anxiety are certainly real and are not disputed here in any way. I am only asking if the problems and difficulties caused by these conditions are exacerbated simply because myself and others “think and feel” like we should not experience these conditions. To me personally, if I admit to experiencing depression, it feels like I am admitting to being weak and “less than” a person who may not deal with such a condition.

I live in a neighborhood right next to a beautiful lake. I often take walks around the lake. The other day I “forced” myself out the door of my apartment because it had been a tough week and I had been in “hibernation mode” for too long. In walking around the lake, I saw ladies talking faster than they were walking, which was impressive, because they were walking pretty fast. I saw men on their cell phones conducting business that simply “could not wait.” I saw runners, checking their Fitbits, in order to confirm their “healthy status” for the day. I saw a child in a stroller, faceless, because all I could see was the iPad blocking all interaction with the world outside his (maybe a boy, maybe a girl) stroller.

I also saw myself. As I was walking around the lake, I realized something I had never realized before. Feeling a “bit down” was a blessing. I was alone. I had time. I had no responsibilities and I had many opportunities. I was free. Free to notice the actual serenity of the lake which I am privileged to live so near. Free to walk at the pace I set. Free to notice that Fall is an inevitability, no matter how nice the Summer has been. Free to see leaves that were no longer green but had begun to burn colors, vibrant colors, other than green. Free to think, my own thoughts, whatever they might be, without the burden of having to express them to another. Free to feel grateful. Free to be thankful…

I became thankful for the sadness that had so limited my access to this outside world in the last few days. As I (forcefully) walked around this lake on a beautiful day, I experienced a sincere thankfulness for being me: sad me, happy me, free me, all of me. I am the person I am today, the person I want to be, because I suffer from moments of depression in my life. There is value in these moments. Because I suffer from depression, I am empathetic. I am patient. I am a good listener. I have time to think. I am ok being alone. I appreciate beauty. I value my relationships. I am good at my job. The list goes on. Because I suffer, I am better. Depression actually allows me to be a better person, and for this I am thankful.