Change is hard (Originally drafted in 2023)

 I have never been what you'd call "brave" when it comes to me.  If it meant being brave for my family, no problem.  When my late husband and I needed to leave our school district so that he could have an opportunity in administration, we did.  He believed that an educator should live within the district they worked.  So, we moved.  Then when he finally got into administration, we realized that it would be better to be closer to family.  My mom and his parents had worked out a plan to help us with childcare, so we moved home.  That was when I began to lose my brave.  

Nine months after moving back to our hometown, JDHteach was diagnosed with leukemia.  This began a four year battle that he, unfortunately, would lose.  During those four years, he was in an out of the hospital, I was in and out of being a single mom who went nightly to the hospital.  At one point, I would get up, get dressed, get the kids up and to my in-laws for breakfast, go to work, get home (my mom or dad would pick up the kids from school), get them fed, take them to any practices, and then get them to bed.  Then, after my sister or mom would arrive, I'd head down to the hospital and spend some time with JDHteach.  Leave the hospital around 2 am, get home, go to bed, and then repeat everything the next day.  If he wasn't in the hospital, then there were rounds of out-patient chemo.  We had a TON of help from family and friends.  But the fear of misstepping was huge.  I lived in denial (I'll admit it now).  I had to be optimistic.  He WOULD beat it.  And he did.  However, he couldn't beat that his body was rejecting the stem cells.  

When we buried him, I buried my brave.  

Those who have helped make us who we are (Originally drafted in 2020)

A few nights ago, Jack asked me for my opinion.  He had spoken with his academic advisor, and they decided on his course schedule for next year.  Things are getting real for him.  He is unsure about whether or not he's made the right career choice (he has), and asks periodically if I think he'll make a good go of his profession of choice.  I guess these discussions and reassurances triggered a memory because that night, I had a dream.

This is one of the most gentle souls I had the privilege of knowing: Hap.  In the picture, is his wife, Emily, the second most gentle person I have known.  In my dream, I am walking along a path much like the one I walk on daily now that I have the time.  As I pass, it registers that Hap and Emily are sitting there on a bench.  I stop and sit down in between them, and Hap puts his arm around me.  We don't say anything.  We just sit there in silence and enjoy the time.  Hap and his wife are now deceased, but in the dream, it doesn't seem odd that they're sitting there like they were waiting for something, for me.  After a while, Em looks at Hap and says that it's time they moved on down the path.  There are others to visit after all.  As we get up, we embrace.  But before Hap lets go, he looks me in the eye, and says, "See.  I just knew you were good at math. You just needed to see it for yourself, and now you do." I looked confused I'm sure because after all, it's taken me 25 years to understand the why of things in math.  I only learned that through teaching it.  But Hap just smiles, winks, and says, "He wouldn't be doing what he's chosen to do, if he hadn't gotten some of those smarts from you. I always knew you could do it."

To some, this exchange might seem strange, even confusing.  But to me, it meant everything. 

Hap and Emily were the parents of one of my parent's friends.  When I was in school, I struggled with math.  I'm not sure how the arrangement was made, but my mom would take me once a week to Hap and Emily's house.  While Hap and I worked on math and my assignments in the kitchen, my mom would sit and visit with Emily.  Hap was VERY good at math.  It was his job in a way.  He was also an excellent tutor.  He had a way of explaining to me what I was supposed to do that made sense.  He was calm, kind, and patient.  He'd always reassure me that if I wasn't good at math, his explanations wouldn't mean a hill of beans.  I never believed him.  Mainly because I'd go to class and get more confused.  There were several times my mom would call him and we'd have a tutoring session over the phone.  He never minded.  He never got on to me for "not getting it".  He'd just say, "It's all in there, you just have to believe it."  Towards the end of the year, I mentioned that after the following year, I wouldn't be taking any more math.  It wasn't required, was usually my explanation.  He tried to convince me to take Trigonometry and even pre-Calculus.  But I'd just scoff , or say, "Maybe I will Mr. Vaughn."  However, I never did. 

The end of my dream exchange was his way of saying, "See, I told you so," without actually saying it.  Why?  Because Jack wants to be a high school math teacher. It doesn't matter what type of math, just math.  Do you know what type of math he enjoys the most? Calculus.  The subject Hap said he thought I'd be great at. 

Hap would be correct and that would make him smile.

I'm 54 years old and I fell like I'm in Junior HIgh

 

When I was in junior high, I often times found myself in situations that I didn't want to be in.  Luckily, I had my mom.  She would ALWAYS let us use her as an excuse.  If we didn't want to do something, we could say, "I'm sorry.  My mom said I couldn't go." If I called her, I would always use our "secret" code: "Hey mama!"  I never called her that.  It was always "mom" until it was something I wanted to say no to.  If some one called my house, it was "Hey mama..." She ALWAYS played the part, and let us play ours.

However, now that safety net is gone.  My mom passed away in 2019, and I am an adult.  But sometimes, I feel that my voice isn't heard, so why speak up.  

There is a situation at the school that I am at that is stressing me out.  It's the end of the year and I am trying to get done what I need to get done.  There is one more unit in my math curriculum that will bridge the gap between my sixth grade math curriculum and what the district has planned for the kids.  When the kids go to junior high, they'll basically skip 7th grade math and jump into 8th grade math.  While that's not a HUGE problem, we still need to go over some concepts that needed more groundwork before I introduced it.

Plus, the end of year is always packed with band and orchestra field trips, STUCO elections for next year, sixth grade field trip, graduation, etc.  So even though I had three weeks left after the state test, I don't have 21 full days.  We also didn't have a Career Day today, so I'm having both of my kids come and speak to my math classes.  

But the scenario in which I wish I had a school mom has to do with the annual kickball game (students vs. staff).  Apparently, my view isn't a popular one: It is what it is.  If the kids don't do well, they don't do well.  If they do, then fine.  I've worked at schools where during certain years, the kickball games are awesome because the class is somewhat athletic. While during others, it's not because the kids truly don't care.  But it seems that here, it doesn't matter because they want to take class time to practice.  I don't, but it doesn't seem to matter.  When I mention that I have a lesson to get through, I get looks like, "You're serious?  You have an actual lesson?"  Why is that a bad thing?  Yes, I do have a lesson.  And even if I didn't, I wouldn't feel comfortable taking out kids who won't want to play anyway and forcing them to practice, "just in case".  

We had an email from our administration saying when we could take extra time, but that was quickly responded to with "We are going to do it at 2:30 on this day, this day, and this day because we have EOY MAP testing." But after that, no asking, just doing.  To me, (based off of the previous campuses, having my administration degree, and also having someone who was a principal at one point), you just don't do that.  You respect your admin and do what they ask you to do.  

That was the closest to having a person who would say no for me to help keep the peace.  

It's time to prioritize...

 I had a revelation this morning as I was trudging on the treadmill at the gym.  I have a feeling it is going to sit wrong with some people.  However, I have also come to the realization that if it does, they can kick rocks. 

Let me backtrack a little bit.  When my son was little, he felt like he had to control EVERYTHING.  This mostly stemmed from his dad being diagnosed with Leukemia when my son was five.  All of a sudden, his life was out of control.  The unknowns were scary, the fear was real.  We always joked that he inherited this desire for control from his dad.  You see, he Pa had been like that as a kid, and so had my husband.  No one ever thought to look at my side as well.  

My perspective on that was always from the POV that control was an obvious endeavor of his.  He stopped playing golf when he was younger because he couldn't control where the golf ball went.  He stuffed math papers into his desk because he didn't like math and wanted to control that narrative.  If he was missing his dad and his sister was happy about something; he'd pick on her until she was just as sad and mad as he was and then he was happy.  

I never stopped to consider that I'm the same way.  I had to control my finances because of the uncertainty of money growing up.  So, if I get extra money, I save it instead of spending it.  Kevin has struggled finding a purpose since his accident and I've been trying to help him find one.  It seems, to no avail.  I struggle with change, change of routine, and becoming overwhelmed with things that haven't happened but might: foundation repair, roof needs replacing, sewer pipes need replacing.  It all becomes overwhelming.

So my ah-ha moment on the treadmill came when I realized: I need to be done trying to take care of everyone but me. Kevin can't find a purpose or a routine? That's on him.  I need to make repairs? I take out a home equity loan, repair and then sell.  Dinner isn't ready when I get home because there is no routine or the chores at home aren't viewed as their job because they're at home? It doesn't get done or it gets done when I have the energy to get it done.

As much as I fear change, I might as well get ready for it.  I can't control who votes for whom, who thinks things are better for the little guy, and how I'm going to survive if all of my paycheck goes to bills.  I'll figure it out because no one is coming to save me.

Yearly Check-in: for more family who aren't here anymore

 I've said it once, and I'll say it again: the beginning of April kicks rocks.  I have been lax in my yearly check-ins, but making them reminds me of who isn't here anymore.  That number grows every year, and it gets harder to bring myself to update. So here it goes, a letter addressed to Jason, but now includes my mom, and his mom and dad.

I am back in Richardson.  I decided that moving out of the house wasn't the best idea because mortgage rates haven't gone back down, and I can't bring myself to pack up the house and leave.  However, if property taxes don't get better, I may be taxed out of this neighborhood.  I feel that anyone whose opinion I value would agree and support the move, but it's hard to think about.  So I do what I do best, and don't think about it.  As a result of deciding not to move, I also returned to the school district (I often quote movie lines now and the kids have no clue what I'm talking about, but you will.)  I have been blessed and ended up at the elementary school five minutes from the house (15 minute walk).  I have been teaching sixth grade math for the first time since the year you passed away; which means it's the first time since the TEKS were moved down a year.  It has been a learning curve to say the least, but I just try and remember how I felt as a twelve year old struggling to understand (and even as a parent of twelve year olds trying to explain a concept).  I feel like I have been able to balance the demands of school while balancing home life better.  It also helps that the kids are adulting more and don't need me as much.

Empty Nest:

For all intents and purposes, I am an empty nester.  It has been an adjustment.  I was so involved (while not being involved) with the kids and their journey, that now I am having to redefine who I am.  That has been a struggle.  I'll be honest.  My whole identity from 2001 to 2025 was "Mom" or "Momager".  Part of that was due to trying to make sure that you got settled in your administrator journey, then keeping their lives normal after your diagnosis, then dealing with losing you.  But now, they're proving that they are going to be just fine, and I am so proud of that.  Have there been some bumps? Yes.  Do they surround themselves with people who can help them when they stumble? Also yes.  But they've also proven that they have paid attention to lessons from everyone who played a part in their journey after you were gone.  

The kids: Let's Work Backwards

Caroline: She is doing well.  She is GRADUATING from Texas Tech in May.  She worked her butt off to catch up after changing her major, but she is going to graduate in May.  So stinking proud of her.  She is currently living at Aunt Kristen's house while Kirsten decides what to do with the house.  I am really glad that she took the chance and decided to "house sit".  It is kind of a safe way for her to see what living on her own will be like.  It's also closer to the zoo, so she doesn't have to be in traffic as long.  She is still working at the zoo as a Coordinator for Volunteers and Interns.  She continues to coach club volleyball and used that money along with the PELL grant and other scholarships so that she will graduate debt free.  Whew!  Caroline recently rescued a cat from the zoo.  His name is Todd.  I got a call from her one day and she said, "Mom.  Hear me out..."  Apparently, he was a stray that had gotten caught between two of the bird exhibits and was discovered when the birds made it known he was there.  Because he was a male, they would've had to euthanize him (they used to spay females and then release, but males they had to euthanize).  They would've had to do that to Todd (Toaster) unless someone stepped up to take him.  So, Caroline did. Now we have a cat.  He's so chill, reminds me of the first cat I had.  Surprisingly enough, I'm not completely allergic to him.  

Jack: Jack and Emma just got back from Boston.  They have been doing so good.  Jack continues with his work as a Data Engineer, I think you'd be proud, I know I am.  Emma is so good for him.  She definitely keeps him grounded. Jack still calls regularly (just like you did with your mom).  It's always great talking to him.  Neither kid knows this, but the fact that they call regularly helps me feel less "by myself" as I adjust to the "empty nest" phase.  The other day he called while he was on his way to play basketball with his friends.  Made me think of you the summers away from SFA that you and Kennon played basketball after you got off work in Maintenance. I'm not sure if I have told you, but they recently got a cat.  That's right, a cat.  Beans. That's not her official name, but you know us, we give nicknames.  She's cute and he's not allergic to her.

As for me, well, I'm good.  But you know that.  You know the kind of adult my mom raised.  I'm getting better at not sweating the money thing (trauma response from growing up).   I'm doing better about being too introverted.  I still don't go to church in person, just download the sermons. Maybe once I retire and don't have to deal with people all of the time I'll go back.  But right now, I just want one day where I don't have to talk to or navigate people.  During the week it's kids (60 of them), their parents, and the gazillion decisions that I have to make between 7:15 and 3:45 pm.  I'm truly lucky though.  The last couple of campuses I have been at have been very supportive.  In that aspect, I have truly been blessed.  I haven't gained any of the weight I had gained before.  I've been able to maintain the weight.  That's in large part due to the support I've been getting at work and at home.  Kevin has been very supportive of my health changes.  I've struggled with "pre-diabetes" for awhile.  I've fluctuated between "pre-diabetes" and "diabetes" in the blood sugar range for while now.   I was able to control it before with medication, but I'm sure you've noticed that our healthcare system is broken.  So the medicine I was on isn't covered by my insurance.  TRS will cover your mental health, but not your diabetes.  In order to get my medicine, I needed to pay my entire deductible the first time.  I hate to break it to them, but I don't have thousands of dollars just hanging out in my bank account  So Kevin and I have been searching for ways to keep my blood sugar in check.  I now get why my mom went for walks ALL of the time. It helps. I'll figure it out though, just keep plugging away.  Not working at a stressful campus (campuses in the last few years) has been a HUGE help.  

That's about it.  I know you already know all of this, but it helps me.

Never met a stranger.

Anyone who knew my mom, knew she LOVED to meet new people.  You couldn't go anywhere without her striking up conversations with strangers.  One memory I have is when she and my older sister went to NYC to visit my younger sister.  I can't remember where they were going, but the instructions given to my mom were simple, "Don't make eye contact and don't start a conversation."  As soon as they emerged from the subway, my mom made eye contact with a rough looking gentleman and said, "Hi!"  If memory serves, the man wasn't quite sure what to do, so he returned the greeting.  I haven't seen the show, but in this scene, Susan reminds me of my mom.

 

A Search for Answers

As the Winter Storm of 2026 was descending on my town, Kevin and I did some last minute grocery runs to make sure my daughter had what she needed to weather her first ice storm solo.  As I was winding my way through the grocery store, my phone dinged with a message.  I checked it noticing the unknown number, but the message is what caught my attention.  "Just checking in that YOU are okay.  Heard your campus had a scary day." I figured out who it was and responded back that I was doing just fine.  It was not the first time I had made that statement, "I'm fine, thanks."  

My school building had been inundated with a show of force by district administration after the event of the day before.  The day before, we had been put on a lockdown around 2:45 pm due to an item that shouldn't have been at school in someone's backpack.  Sometimes we have unannounced drills, such as fire drills and such. However, we NEVER have unannounced lockdown drills.  The kids were amazing and went to the designated spots, but many were giggling because they thought it was a drill.  I received a message on my phone that indicated who had initiated the lockdown, and it wasn't an administrator.  That was my first indication that this wasn't a drill.  The kids clued in after we had no-one checking that our door was locked, and it lasted longer than the regular 2-3 minutes a drill normally would.  As the reality sunk in, several things happened.  Several kids started crying, one kid handed me a pair of scissors, "Just in case," and my senses were heightened.  We were finally released from the lockdown by 3:10 pm, and kids went home.  I immediately texted my own children what had happened, in case it had made the news, but that was it.  My students know that above all else, my job is to keep them safe.  

But as I reflected on all of the upper admin's inquiries as to my mental health, the messages I received checking in on me, and the emails from co-workers reminding us about the district's mental health services, I asked Kevin, "Is there something wrong with me?"

He was puzzled.  Why would I ask that?  My response was simple, "Everyone is seriously freaking out about this instance.  Shouldn't I be that way?  Shouldn't I be scared to go to work, scared that the situation even happened?  After some reflection, I realized, "No.  There is nothing wrong with me."  

And here is why:

1. I have been teaching for 32 years, or 26 of them, we've practiced lockdown drills,

2. I've taught in several schools where lockdowns occurred more often than the drill.

3. I know what my responsibility is,

4. My kids are old enough that they don't need me like they did when they were little.  It'd suck on what I'd miss out on, but they'd be okay.

5. There were no shouts, no gunshots, and no sirens,

6. And my door locked and there was only one way in the room.

I might've been affected more if I'd heard gunshots, running or sirens.  I might've been more scared if there was more than one entry point (which several of our rooms have), or if my door didn't lock.  

But knowing the climate of our country, the climate of my state, and the view some on teaching; I know what's expected of me.  I know what I'm up against, and I have made peace with it.