Hands

I see you and
You look to be alone,
Perhaps comfortable
In your
Solitude.

But I wish to join you
Despite my
Apprehension.

I don’t know who has
Held those hands before
Or if their hands
Were worthy…

But I stand here wishing
To hold them now
To see where such
Things go.

My hands are old and calloused
Yours so young and soft,
As if they’ve never held
The world
So tightly…

I’ve choked the world
With these hands
And still my palms
Left empty,

But I brushed your
Face and felt your
Cheek and so
Touched the
Possibility.

Not so soft.

Magic and
Beauty
Undisclosed.
Where
Are you
Hiding?

Is it hard
To Be,
To Love…
Is your skin
Not so soft?

A Thought Left All Alone...

What do I
See
When I look
At Me?

Distortion…
A wicked version
Of Myself-

Some other
Me
I used to
Be.

What do I
Dream
When I dare
To see?

A life
That belongs
To me.

Tangled and
Wrinkled
And unresolved…

A thought left
All alone…

Ever After

It may have been a look

Or a smile,

Or a conversation--

It may have been a special

Touch

Or a kiss,

Or meeting of our

Minds.



It may have been a

Past life

Connection,

A real life

Reflection--

The Universe

Conspires…



Or perhaps it’s

Chance…

A random

Meeting,

A roll of the

Die.



Whatever it is,

It brought me to you

Found its way

To the

Sun.



Like a flower

With a will to

Live…

With all it’s hope

Of an

Ever after.

Tomorrow

Painting by Edward Hopper

You can dream

All you want

But what makes

It so?

It’s not the

Wishing or

Hoping…

But the

Yearning and

Knowing –

It’s not late

Nights of

Regret

It’s the

Sun of the

Morning.


It’s the piece

Of you –

The piece

That is

Lost

The one you

Know is there-

Somewhere.

It’s the you

You need

To be.


And when

You are not,

Faith is gone -

Just a word

That means

Nothing.


But it is

Something

You know it is…

You don’t need

To see it.


It’s your life

Your thought

Your reality…

It is what

Is meant

To be.



To hold it

Close

To hold it

Tight

Even through

The doubt.


To pack up

Your worries

And sleep

Tonight

And know

What comes

Tomorrow.

The touch and the

Smell of you

The warmth of

Our last hello

The way you lie

In morning

Sleeping soundly

Next to me


The sweet and the

Sting of you

Impressions

Of our last goodbye

The way you look

At me as

I drive away…


Give me your hand

How I love the

Way it fits

In mine

Give me your mind

How I love the

Way it

Wonders…


And if you are too

Afraid today

I’ll be waiting for

You tomorrow

And if I miss you

Tomorrow

I’ll catch you

In another

Lifetime…

Angel

I’m tired of being
Everyone’s angel
Popping in and out
Of your lives
Letting you know that
I am thinking of you
Of course I am
Thinking of you
I was thinking of you
Before I was born
Before you were
Sounds crazy
But it’s true
And somehow
I think you
Know it
Wish you could
Think of yourself
And see your
Infinite beauty
But you can’t or you
Won’t so I will
See it for you…
I wanted it all
For myself
But somehow
It all went wrong
For me anyway…
But for you,
It all went
Right
And you are the
Angel.

Real

You think
It’s all so
Simple.
It feels good
And it feels
Right.

But when you
Peel away the
Layers
Things get
Muddled and
Messy.

It’s happened
Before,
It’s not the
First time
Why should
This time be
Different?

Sure I look
Good in my
Make up
But how do
I look
For real?

I’ve shown
Myself before
But no one’s
Ever
Seen me.

I want this
To be my
Moment
I want now
To be my
Time.

Kiss me
Tonight and
Hold me
Tomorrow
Please say that
You’ll be
Mine.

Good Morning

Glimpses of the
Love we made
Snap shots
Of our
Kisses…

If I open my
Eyes while
You’re touching
Me,
I can see your
Gentle heart.

Your hands move slowly
Through me
Your fingers
Tickle my
Skin.

And the way you
Hold me
Leaves me
Left with
Wonder.

What is this
Thing called Love
Why does it
Scare us
So?

Could it be so
Simple --
Has it
Ever been?

To open ones
Eyes and
Simply say
“Good
Morning.”

Rabbit Hole.

If I knew well enough
I’d hide away
for a couple of days;
Run back down
This rabbit hole
And stay there for
Awhile...

I have no business
Out here with
the masses,
No clue what I’m
Supposed to do.

I thought I saw
a glimpse of
Something…
Just a crazy
Reflection –

Some image that
I’ve seen before.
Some hope I held
In my heart.

I can love deeper
Than the ocean
But it’s just as far
To reach you.

So what’s the point
And why do I try
To extend my heart
To you?

How much I wish
I could be different--
The Everything that
You need.

To lift you
To change you
To challenge and
Love you.

That is what I was
Meant to be
But I fear it
goes
Unnoticed…

The Will of a Flower

To watch a flower grow
Takes quiet patience.
You can not force it
Into existence
Though you know
The beauty it will
Bestow.
You can not ask
More of her
Gentle petals
Nor expect her
Leaves to be
Greener.
Whether rose
Or daisy
Or dandelion
She will be what
She was meant to be.
And you will look upon her
with wonder in your eyes
And think how lucky you were
To find her there.
Whether planted by hand
Or grown in the wild
Her will is what
Brought her here.
And a flower doesn’t
Know how precious it is
Because a flower is
Just a flower.

GOT SWAG?

Earth Swag is just one of many companies that are changing our notion of doing business. For some companies, the profits are not just in the form of money but also in the form of social change. Earth Swag was started by a mom who was tired of packing daily lunches in plastic baggies that would in turn, be thrown away only to end up in landfills. At first it was just one woman trying to reduce her carbon footprint by sewing reusable snack bags and sandwich wraps for her two kids. People saw her cute handmade bags and wanted one of their own. From there, the idea for Earth Swag was born.


And these ideas are being born everywhere. Socially conscious people are trying to make an honest living while living an honest life. The idea of “Going Green” is not just a trend but it is a movement. It is a movement that will forever change the way we live. And this movement was started by a handful of people who cared enough about our Earth to do something. Sara O’Connor didn’t just complain about plastic waste. She didn’t preach or scold those who mindlessly wasted plastic products. Instead, she did something about it. She offered us an alternative.

It was an alternative that made too much sense to ignore. I myself was not even aware of the amount of waste we were producing from plastic bags. I thought the plastic bag was ingenious and as a teacher, the product was a part of my daily life. Zip lock bags were great for storing snacks and treats for my students; plastic grocery bags were great for transporting things from home to school. I actually felt good because I was “reusing” plastic bags. But eventually, the bags would wear out and I’d throw them away. It never occurred to me what happened to them after that.

But here are the facts.

• 500 billion to 1 trillion plastic bags are used every year, worldwide.

• About 1 million plastic bags are used every minute.

• A single plastic bag can take up to 1,000 years to degrade.

• The U.S. goes through 100 billion single-use plastic bags. This costs retailers about $4 billion a year.

• Plastic bags are the second-most common type of ocean refuse, after cigarette butts.

• Plastic bags remain toxic even after they break down.

• Every square mile of ocean has about 46,000 pieces of plastic floating in it.

(information provided by http://www.reuseit.com)


Those are facts that I simply did not know. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I just didn’t know. Now that I do know, I can’t help but to see the truth all around me. You can not imagine the waste that I see in one day in my school’s cafeteria. All because people just don’t realize how it all adds up.

When we are faced with facts that astound us, we are given a choice. We can ignore the facts and go on living the way we always have or we can commit to make a change. Earth Swag is offering a product that can make a significant change with very little effort and cost. For a reasonable price, you can buy reusable lunch bags, tote bags and water bottles that can be used a thousand more times than one plastic bag or plastic bottle. Economically and environmentally it just makes more sense. Additionally, these products can be used in so many more ways than originally intended. I have used my Earth Swag for much more than snacks. These bags are great for travel and for carrying all kinds of different items and the designs are fashionable and trendy. I always get compliments on my “Swag.” And Earth Swag is now expanding to offer new exciting products including t-shirts, hats and lunch kits. Earth Swag is not just selling us another product…it is selling us an idea and an alternative to the way things are. It is introducing a better way that will lead to a better world for ourselves and our children.

For more information on Earth Swag, visit earthswag.com or find them on facebook.

“Be a part of the change you want to see in the world.” ~Ghandi

Shuntae

Thank you for teaching us more than we could have ever taught you!

I may not have the words to say
Or the eyes to see
My brain may not know
What you know.

I may not have the arms to reach
Or the feet to walk a mile
My body can not do
The things you do.

But what I can do
Is smile and
I can laugh
I can feel all
That you feel.

Do not pity the
Life I’ve lost
For look at the
Life I’ve lived.

I spoke with my heart and
I saw with my soul…
I knew all that
I needed to know.

Think of me
When you see
Waves dancing…
Think how I laid
By the shore.

Think of me now
That I am free
And how I’m
Dancing with them.

Think of the times
You helped me see
The times you
Helped me speak

And know that
in that smile of mine
I thank you.

You needed me
As I needed you
Isn’t that the way
It goes?

So close your eyes
And dance on the shore
And feel in your heart
My smile.

Still I Rise.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, as I often do, about this process we call “life,” and how we make our way through it. Where do we get the eyes to see our path and the touch to feel our way? Where do we get the courage to shine and the weakness to shrink? How do we come to define ourselves, whether good or bad, and who do we let decide our own identity?

Several years ago, I experienced the worst reality I could have ever imagined. My life turned completely upside down and I felt as though I was alone on a raft in the middle of an endless ocean with no sight of the shore. Everything in my life collapsed…I failed myself personally, I failed at my marriage and I failed professionally. All I wanted to do was to retreat. I was ready to wave my white flag.

And I almost did. But something primal set in—my inner will came out and the fighter I knew I was born to be came to the surface and said “hold on just a minute!”

In that moment, I could have chosen anything. I had so many options available. I could have defined myself by my own feelings…a failure, an idiot, a lost soul, a tortured artist, a troubled little girl. And I could have blamed so many others for my misfortunes, for undoubtedly, there are many lives that have affected me and helped shape who I am today.

But what I chose instead was to take personal responsibility for my own life. To realize that I am the only one who has the right or privilege to define myself. As Virginia Woolf so eloquently said, everyone is “allowed some say in the matter of her own prescription. Thereby she defines her humanity.”

This crazy world has tried so hard to push me down and there are days when it has succeeded. But still I rise. And I know that I think too much and feel too much and care too much and that makes me vulnerable to so many experiences. But I’d rather be vulnerable and feel…than to be protected and not.

This journey is not over. I have so many more things to work on. I am not even half of what I am meant to be. But still I rise.

Still I Rise.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Memory

She was soft and hard

Together.

At once

Stoic and strong--

But one moment

Away from a

Tear.


When I met her

I felt her

Purpose

And I knew I was

In for a ride.

Her eyes burned

Into me

And I could see

Her secrets

But I knew to keep

My silence.


When she touched me

I felt hot and cold

All at the same time…

And I wondered

What moved her,

What made her

Want to Be.


At first so giving--

I felt her soul

Then suddenly

I felt nothing.

She packed it up

And put it away

As I stood looking

Bewildered.


I won’t trade the

Sun of morning

For the pain that

I feel now.

And I won’t trade

Our last goodbye

For our first

Hello.


If only she knew

If only she knew…

How different

It might be

But so it is

And so must be

Just a

Memory.

Stop

Stop.

Look around-

The world is

Moving without

You.

Slower than you

Thought,

With more

Purpose than you

Thought.

Where the hell

Have you

Been?

So wrapped up

In yourself

That you couldn’t

See

The magic around

You?

So wrapped up

In yourself

That you couldn’t see

The beauty around

You?

And then it

Appeared

And stopped you

In it’s tracks

And what did

You do but

Run away?

Rainbow

Is it even possible…

To chase and find

A rainbow?


After years

The colors fade

There’s no such thing

As luck.


In search of a

Four leaf clover

And only finding

Weeds…


I thought it once,

That it might be real

I thought it might

Be true.


I wished and wished

Upon a star

To find my wish

Fall silent.


But then you came

From beyond the road

The wind upon

Your back


And your Irish smile

Melted me

Stopped me in my

Tracks.


Here you are…

What to do?

How do I dare

Go forward?


After the rain

Appears the sun

And I find at last

Those colors.


3/30/2011

The Unheard Voices of Autism

April is Autism Awareness Month and though our knowledge of autism is greater as more attention is given, it remains a condition relatively misunderstood. We have learned about autism through the media, through parent testimonies and to a great extent, from those living with autism who are able to communicate their experience. Temple Grandin has given us much insight through her many books and public appearances. HBO produced a movie about her life, starring Claire Danes who brilliantly captured the heart and mind of Temple and gave us a moving insight into the life of a person with autism. Kim Peek, whose life inspired the movie “Rainman” has amazed people all over the country with his exceptionalities, as well as his struggles living in a neurotypical world. The television show, “Parenthood” features a young boy with Aspergers and although I haven’t been able to confirm it, the main character on Bones, Dr. Temperance Brennon, is clearly on the spectrum. The riveting novel, “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime,” was written by a special education teacher about a boy with high functioning Autism. All of these stories, people and characters have helped spread awareness and paint a picture of the puzzle we call Autism.


But there are so many unheard voices. So many people with autism do not have the ability to share their experience because they are non-verbal. Many others have very limited verbal expression. Whether they can’t or won’t talk remains unknown, but nonetheless it is their reality and it is a cage they are unable to break free of. Because of their inability to communicate through language, we unfortunately may never know their reality.

Temple Grandin says, “I can remember the frustration of not being able to talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but I could not get the words out, so I would just scream.” As a special education teacher who currently teaches three students with autism, I can tell you how heart breaking it is to watch a child suffer with this inability to talk. And when it comes to can’t or won’t, I am more inclined to think it’s the former because I have watched these children try. I have a student now who tries so hard to tell me what she wants but just can’t seem to find the way. She understands that gestures like pointing are a means of communicating but she is not yet able to connect the gesture to the particular thing she wants. She may want a drink but point to food. She may want a book but ask for a toy. When we don’t understand, she screams and cries, throws herself on the floor in frustration. And all I can do is wish that I could jump inside her head and know. But I am left frustrated too, because I can’t.

We try every day as educators and parents to break through this language barrier. We often have to think outside the box. Amazing advances in technology have given us new tools to communicate but it’s not the universal answer, if there is such a thing. Annie Sullivan was a brilliant educator who found a way to reach Helen Keller. Helen was a child who could not hear, see or speak and yet Sullivan never gave up and on one day, at a well pump in the backyard she signed W-A-T-E-R in her hand und suddenly Keller made the connection. Once opened, we learned of the brilliance, wonder and compassion of this little girl’s mind. And it wasn’t because Helen learned how to communicate with us…it was because we learned how to communicate with her.

When we think about autism, we need to be mindful of the whole spectrum and not just those who can speak and share their experience. There are so many unheard voices who want to tell us their story but just don’t know how. We need to find the way to help them talk to us. If we can unlock the mysteries they hold, we will at last begin to put the puzzle pieces together. Perhaps we will learn that Autism is not something to be cured, but something to honor. Perhaps we will learn how to bring these special souls into our world, or better yet how to enter theirs.

"Autism is about having a pure heart and being very sensitive… It is about finding a way to survive in an overwhelming, confusing world… It is about developing differently, in a different pace and with different leaps." ~Trisha Van Berkel


"If I could snap my fingers and be non-autistic, I would not - because then I wouldn't be me. Autism is part of who I am." ~Temple Grandin

"Autism is a way of being. It is pervasive; it colors every experience, every sensation, perception, thought, emotion, and encounter, every aspect of existence. It is not possible to separate the autism from the person." ~Jim Sinclair

It Takes a Village…

I am not easily offended. You can pretty much say anything to me and on occasion I will get mildly defensive, but rarely offended. But today it was suggested to me that I don’t understand what it is like to be a parent. I was given consolation for being a teacher, but not awarded the special status of a mother. And maybe it was just the particular moment or maybe it was just the nature of the conversation, but this point of observation stung me deeply.


I’ve been told by friends that I should have children and that I would make such a great mom. And when I respond by saying that I no longer feel the biological need for kids, I get a curious look, as if I’ve just landed on Earth from another planet.


There was a time when I wanted children. I had the dream that so many women do…I had the instinct to bring life into this world. And had all the right things come together, perhaps I would have done so. I remember precisely the day when I stopped dreaming the dream of motherhood. It was the day when I assumed another important role, the one of becoming a teacher.


I guess the part that offends me is the notion that I am not experiencing the bond or the responsibility that a mother experiences. I experience both every day. I am lucky to get my kids for seven hours…almost the same amount of time a mother spends with her child in a day. In those seven hours, I nurture them, protect them, teach them, build them…same as a mother does. I am trying to do by day what they continue at night…the molding of little feet who take big steps. I would never suggest that my role is as important as that of a mother nor would I say that teaching is as rewarding. But I will suggest that it comes pretty damn close.

When I am not with my kids, I miss them. When they reach milestones, I cry. I want to share every story, every picture, every funny thing they say and I try to hold back because I don’t want to be annoying. I think constantly about their future…about who they will grow up to be. And at the end of the day, I just hope they are happy.


You don’t have to give birth to understand that kind of bond. There are aunts and uncles, godparents, mentors, teachers and friends who all care deeply for children though they have none of their own. If you are a parent, please realize that there are people who are a part of your children’s lives who respect you greatly and only want to help you and your child along the journey.

Scatter Pieces of Yourself.

“It is not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you lived.”


I love to take long walks on a beautiful day. There is something about the sun and the grass and the birds chirping…the sounds of people working in their yards. The calmness allows my mind to reflect and inevitably on every walk I experience an epiphany of some kind.


Today I was thinking about my life and the long journey that has led me here. I was thinking about how many things have changed and how looking back I can see the small events that slowly melted together to create a cosmic shift in my thinking and feeling. And I wonder sometimes if it’s all just part of getting older and wiser and that everyone experiences this shift.


Yet at other times, I sense a real purpose for these events, as if the universe was conspiring on my behalf. I look at people that I have met and how they came into my life at such a critical time. I look at relationships that failed and how those experiences gave me great insight. I consider the strange occurrences and spooky coincidences that lead me to believe someone out there is sending me a message.


It may sound somewhat arrogant to think that my life holds some special purpose. I mean, who am I to have that kind of power? I’m just a little girl walking around in an adult body with all the false optimism of my youth. I sometimes fear thinking too highly of myself…afraid I will crash and burn and suddenly realize that my life holds absolutely no meaning, just a tangled mess of thoughts. But then I think, who am I NOT to have a purpose. Why would I think that I am powerless? Why do I constantly build myself up only to tear myself down?


I talked to someone today, yet another person who seems to have appeared at a critical time, who made me realize that we are all just trying to do our best in this world. But there is no road map for the journey and we are all just a little afraid of our own power. Marianne Williamson can express this much more eloquently when she says, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.”


I have spent years of my life struggling with both the light and dark in myself. But the shift I am feeling now is toward the light. I feel as though the universe is telling me to grab onto that light and let it shine wherever I go. So I am trying to take all the self-doubt I have and fold it up and pack it away. I know I can never be completely rid of it but doubt serves the purpose of us trying to prove it wrong.


As I get older and realize that life is getting shorter, I’ve made a conscious decision to follow the light and to no longer allow it to frighten me. I may still have my dark moments and occasional bouts with insecurity but hopefully I can let them come and pass like an itch and not engage the thought with a scratch.


How amazing the world would be if we all believed in our hearts that we had both purpose and power. How amazing if we all had the courage to follow our own light. I used to think “I’m only one person…how can I possibly change the world?” But we are not just one person. Everything we do and say leaves an imprint, whether it be in someone else’s mind, or by an action that we take or just by the energy we put into the world. We are always scattering pieces of ourselves. We are always creating change. We just need to decide what kind of change we want that to be.

Hello

Words are energy
Not bound by
Space or time


And every conversation
Begins with
Hello.


A thought
Transcribed,
A feeling
Unfolds

And somewhere
Someone is
Reading…


“Crazy world
Full of crazy
Contradictions”

The song reminds
Me of hope.

Things aren’t how
They seem…
They’re always
Better.


But we must
Look around the
Corners
To see.


That is where
Lies the
Unexpected.


3-26-2011



My Kids are Changing the World...

For those of you that don’t already know, I’m a special education teacher. I work in an elementary school in a self-contained class with a mix model of students who range from moderate to profound intellectual disabilities. My kids are the ones who will likely be dependent on adult care for the rest of their lives. Some of them may get a job if adequately prepared. But they will need a whole lot of preparation.

I teach in Georgia. When I first began teaching I was told that the kids were on a “functional curriculum.” This means we need to prepare them for daily life: cooking, hygiene, behavior and other life skills. We also taught academics such as letters and numbers, colors…whatever their little minds could understand. Mostly we taught them how to adapt, how to be a part of a community. We taught kids with autism how to communicate appropriately. We taught kids with Down’s Syndrome how to recognize boundaries. We taught those who could not communicate how they could. We taught them to be self sufficient. How to dress themselves, ask for what they needed, how to follow directions, eat appropriately at a table and how to “fit in.” That’s what we were hired to do and so that’s what we did. How wonderful that America recognized the right of these students and offered them an education where they could “be the best of themselves.”

But there was a shift in education, one that ultimately led to “No Child Left Behind.” As an educator I will not say that this policy is either good or bad, but I will say that it has affected the way we teach our special needs students in ways that have produced both positive and negative effects.

The Good:

The Good is that we are now being pushed to teach age appropriate material to our kids. No longer am I teaching my 12 year olds from baby books but I am using material that is relevant to them. They like Hannah Montana and Jonas Brothers. So I am using that to teach whatever skills I can. “Hannah Montana Recycles” was a big hit! With this shift, I have learned how to adapt my lessons to their interest and needs and not just their cognitive level. My kids have learned about the Earth and other Planets. They have learned about the sun and the moon. They can recognize the map of the United States and know that they live in Georgia. They have learned about the Revolutionary War and its key figures. My kids know about the important inventions of the 19th century including the telephone and the airplane. They understand the concept of physical change and they can identify parts from wholes. I am so proud that they can, if only in part, comprehend the same things their peers are learning.

The Bad:

The other side of that coin is that for every minute we spend teaching our kids about the Revolutionary War is a minute we cannot teach them how to zip their own jacket. For every minute we teach them about math concepts they will never use or even understand, is a minute we cannot teach them how to feed themselves. We are being pushed to teach them grade level standards when some of them cannot even use the bathroom. No Child Left Behind mandates that we teach every child equally, when they are not all equal.
When I first began teaching, I learned right away the purpose of education. Teaching is not about reading, writing, math and science. Teaching is about giving kids what they need to succeed as adults. We used to say that education was about creating good citizens who would grow up and serve their community. Now it seems that the focus is on college. This is where my students get lost…where they are unfortunately left behind. Although two of my students, with all their inspiring optimism tell me how they are going to go to college in Paris…something they learned off the TV…the reality is that they won’t. They will likely live in a group home as adults and if lucky, obtain employment at a local grocery store. What are we doing to prepare them for this? Not enough.

Budget cuts have crippled education. One of the first things to go was something called Community Based Instruction (CBI). This was an educational initiative aimed at exposing students with special needs to their community and giving them hands on life skills. We visited stores, restaurants and other public places to expose children to the community. We taught them how to interact appropriately, how to shop for things they needed, how to ask for help, how to find a public restroom…essentials that they would need to know to be a part of a community. The very things the rest of us take for granted. Money ran out though so this initiative was put on the cutting board and with it went the functional curriculum. The focus became GPS standards and teaching age and grade appropriate skills.

As teachers always rise up to the challenge, we came together to figure out how we could still offer CBI but within the school setting. I attended a meeting where a group of us came up with ideas on how our kids could gain practical community skills within the school setting. From this meeting, many ideas were born. I took one of these ideas back to my school and didn’t realize at the time how much it would affect the community.

This year, my class of 4th and 5th grade special needs students launched the biggest recycling effort that my school has ever seen. Calling ourselves the Green Team, we volunteered our service to help collect paper every other week and deliver it to the recycling receptacle. We have since widened our efforts to all recyclable materials. Our school had always supported recycling efforts, but never involved students. It was mostly an adult effort. At first, I thought it was a crazy idea…that the teachers would inevitably do all the work and the kids would be lost on the concept. How surprised I was.

After a year of taking on this responsibility I am proud to say that many of my students know the difference between trash and recyclable materials and can sort those materials. I am proud to say that my students will independently pick up garbage on the playground and put it in the trash, not because they were told to, but because they know it doesn’t belong there. My students have made posters to promote recycling around the school. And every time they walk through the halls with a bin full of paper or plastic, they are setting an example of social responsibility and a commitment to the betterment of their community. In this way, however small it may be, they are changing the world.

In Japan, they view public schools to be a viable resource for everyone and to serve as a means to renew and build up the life of a community. The mayor of Sanyo Onoda City believes that students with disabilities are more vulnerable and so deserve a secure place in the fabric of society. His vision is for instruction that can ultimately lead to successful outcomes for the community.

I have learned this year how much our disabled students can have an impact on their community. I have learned how they can serve and protect our country. I have learned the example they can set for other kids that will one day be in charge. I have learned how much they care about being a part of their community.

I know that we need to teach these kids reading, writing, math and science…we are mandated to do so and it is not a fruitless venture. But let us realize the strength of these kids, the possibility of their futures. Let us also teach them how to be productive citizens and helpers in their own community. Let’s give them the skills they need to make a difference in the world. They very much wish to do so.

The peeling away...

The following is an email from a survivor in Japan that is being forwarded through the internet. I do not know if this email was published or a private account so I left the author's name off. It is a deeply moving report and a most inspiring perspective.

Hello My Lovely Family and Friends,

First I want to thank you so very much for your concern for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the moment to get my message to you.

Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.

During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their home, they put out sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and buckets.

Utterly amazingly where I am there has been no looting, no pushing in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one another."

Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on.

But all of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not. No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.

There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun. People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their dogs. All happening at the same time.

Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled.

The mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them silhouetted against the sky magnificently.

And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on, and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if the need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.

They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better off than others. Last night my friend's husband came in from the country, bringing food and water. Blessed again.

Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as part of something happening that is much larger than myself. This wave of birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.

Thank you again for your care and Love of me,

With Love in return, to you all,

Pissed!

I had started writing a blog on Saturday about the devestation in Japan. I had a lot to say about the subject. My heart and mind has been in circles over how something like this could happen. The why of it escapes me. My mind was still processing so I did not complete that blog. I still don’t have the answers.

But today I read an article for which I am prepared to speak about. Apparantly, there are some very bad Americans making very ignorant statements about the events overseas. In case you haven’t heard, here is what has been said:

"What God does is God's business. But I'll tell you this -- there's a message being sent," Beck continued. "And that is, 'Hey you know that stuff we're doing? Not really working out real well. Maybe we should stop doing some of it.' I'm just saying." ~ Glenn Beck

"Look this is very serious people I had to evacuate all my hoess from LA, Hawaii and Japan. I had to do it. Lol"
~ 50 cents

"I just split up with my girlfriend, but like the Japanese say, 'There'll be another one floating by any minute now.'"
~ Gilbert Godfried

"What if God was tired of the way they treated their own people in there own country! Idk guys he makes no mistakes."
~ Cappie Pondexter

My first reaction was complete disbelief. How could someone say these things about a country and community hit by tragedy? How could an American imply that God meant for this to happen? My second reaction was anger. Americans were hit not so long ago by two devastating tragedies: the events of 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina. How soon we forget our own pain and suffering, our own place in time. We were outraged at the idea that people thought God had anything to do with these man- made and natural disasters. Both events made us take stock and realize our priorities, as a people, as a community, as Americans. And for a time, a lesson was learned. But time heals everything because eventually we forget. We are distracted by new stories. And I fear, the lesson was lost.

I know that most Americans don’t feel the way that Glenn Beck, 50 cents and Gilbert Godfried feel…if you do then you seriously need to question your own humanity…but the idea that there are people in the world that would utter such a negative and self-righteous thought scares the hell out of me.

When are we going to come together as a human race? When are we going to become champions for one another instead of haters and criticizers? When are we going to stop thinking that one country is so much better than another? In the trenches, soldiers say it doesn’t matter who you are…you protect your fellow man. There is no right and wrong in the trenches…there is only survival.

If you believe that God had anything to do with the earthquake and tsunami in Japan then you must also believe that God meant to kill Americans on 9/11 and during Hurricane Katrina. Do you want that on your conscious?

It’s time to think differently.

Bittersweet

Bittersweet is your kiss
That left words
Unspoken,
Under a moonlit
Sky of stars.

Bittersweet is your smile;
A misconceived
Flirtation--
An invitation to dance.

Bittersweet are your eyes
With many tales
Untold,

A past left hidden
And story
Unknown.

Bittersweet am I
At our last
Goodbye,
Hoping to see you
Again.

Why I Go in Search of Buried Treasures...

A few years ago I was reading about a subset of society that I had no idea existed. There are people who spend their free time digging for buried treasures. On the beach, in the woods, along river banks these people would find valuable coins, civil war relics, buried caches, gold and jewelry. A woman in England went out in search along the countryside and found a 500 year old gold pendent depicting the Holy Trinity. The gem was estimated to be worth $250.000. An unemployed man on welfare found the largest ever collection of Anglo-Saxon artifacts worth 1.6 million. How did these people find their treasures? Not with secret maps, I assure you. They found these treasures with what I once thought was merely a toy for a 12 year old boy…a metal detector.


When I first read these stories I was immediately intrigued and wanted in on the action. I live in Atlanta, a hot bed for history, so I had visions of finding civil war relics buried deep in the ground saved from Sherman’s fire. Or maybe artifacts from the slaves that once worked the fields which are now merely suburban backyards or apartment shrubbery.

I decided I must have one of these treasure finding gadgets. I researched my choices and decided upon the Bounty Tracker IV. It cost a little over $100 but that didn’t bother me…it didn’t compare to the millions I would soon discover.

I felt like the Dad in "A Christmas Story" when my detector arrived. There was a glow of light coming from the box. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it! I put it together and immediately set out on my first ever treasure hunt. First stop, the backyard. Every time the detector beeped, my heart would do the same from the anticipation of what I had found. I dug. Hitting tree roots, finding rocks, slashing worms in half. I dug. And what did I find on my first hunt? A bottle cap. Not a bottle cap from the 1920’s but a bottle cap from a few weeks ago…it was probably mine. I didn’t give up…I kept digging. Next I found a matchbox car! How interesting. It was caked in dirt. I would need to clean it. I shoved it into my “metal detecting apron” and moved on. Next, after 15 minutes of digging, I found a penny! I rubbed the dirt off the face of the penny to find that it dated all the way back to….1997. The dream of finding a treasure was fading away. The reality of finding a yard full of metal junk was sinking in.

Never being one to give up on dreams, a few days later I went out again. My detector beeped and so I dug. My mind was sure that I would find a piece of aluminum foil or a rusty nail. I dug and I dug and I dug. Where the hell was this metal wonder? The detector kept beeping so I knew something was there. So I dug and I dug and I dug. This went on for what seemed forever as I diligently worked my way to the core of the earth when suddenly I hit something. Please tell me it’s not a rock. I saw something silver, bright silver so I knew at once it wasn’t a penny or a nail. After twenty minutes of burrowing into the land, I found my prize. I had found a baby rattle…a sterling silver antique baby rattle. It was dented but sill worked. It still made the sound that makes a baby smile. I took it inside, washed it off, polished it up and studied it under my magnifying glass. After hours of research on both google and ebay I discovered that my find was a Webster baby rattle from the 1940s. Similar baby rattles were selling on ebay from $50 to $100! Finally I had found something worth more than a penny!

A few days later…for reasons that are not relevant to this story, the landlord came to the house. In all my curiosity, I had to ask if she knew the history of this rattle. She revealed to me that it belonged to her daughter. Her eyes lit up when she saw my treasure. I was suddenly in a dilemma and wishing so much that I hadn’t asked. After a few minutes of silent reflection, I dared to pose the question, “Would you like to have the rattle?”

“No, you found it, you keep it,” she said. A long pause followed as my morals were being tested. “No, please keep it. I insist.” I was devastated. It was like winning an Olympic medal only to give it away.
I still mourn the loss of my first found treasure. Though it was not worth millions, it was worth something. It was definitely worth the time I spent digging. It was definitely worth the time I spent anticipating.

I still dig for buried treasures, but lost are the hopes of finding gold or silver or a bag full of valuable coins. I dig now for the stories. I’ve found matchbox cars and I think of the little boys playing in the backyard full of happiness, their lives still untold. I’ve found quarters and have wondered who was standing there and how exactly did that quarter fall out of their pocket. I’ve found bullet casings and have wondered what events led them there. And I’ve found junk…metal scraps, unidentified pieces of aluminum and countless tabs from soda cans. But even the junk has its story. Someone was standing there at a moment in time. The metal scraps part of something built or perhaps, something torn down. Everything I find is a remnant of another life, another future, of another story… and that is where the true value and treasure of things are found.