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.

Unexpected Wisdom: Hearing Life's Messages in the Unlikeliest of Places

 It's been a little over a year when I made a decision that put me on a path of rediscover.  I recently had an encounter with a former acquaintance  through visiting my alma mater elementary school that will close down this year.  It was mentioned that if I wanted to come back to the district, they do pay teachers the highest in the area.  

I wasn't going to pursue it, and on a certain level (because of my insecurity with not having enough money to cover issues) it made me sad.  I mentioned this to my daughter because she noticed that I was a little down.  Her response reinforced for me the decision that I'd made.  

She said, "You know mom.  I like the _______ Mrs. Huffman and not the old one."  

The Old One

The old Mrs. Huffman was realizing the vision was different than the district she worked in.  The old Mrs. Huffman was losing her joy of being in the classroom due to the stress of severe behaviors not being addressed, the inequality of support for certain areas (even though it is said there isn't).

The old Mrs. Huffman was losing her hair, gaining weight, chasing a finish line that kept being moved, and going to bed at 8 on weeknights because she was so tired from the day.  The old Mrs. Huffman was torn because of what would be lost and then have to work double time to catch up if she missed, was questioned about professionalism when she tried to advocate for students, and was told to solve a problem without support for a topic that teachers were told needed to be fixed.  

Basically, the Old Mrs. Huffman was a sinking ship and in order to right her, needed to retire. I could retire that upcoming December, so I figured, I'd go somewhere else, teach for another year and retire at the end of that.

Foreshadowing Change: The ________ Mrs. Huffman

Back in the early 2000's, my late husband and I decided that it would be better for our family and our job opportunities (we wanted to be administrators), if we moved out of the town we lived in. It was a gut wrenching decision for my late husband because he'd envisioned himself working in the same district that his dad had worked in. However, realizing that wasn't going to happen at that point, the decision was made to leave. He ended up getting an administrative job in a smaller district (in comparison to where we were) and that ended up being the best thing ever. He was so happy to be a part of a wonderful district, that we were sad when that ended. While he worked in the district that he loved and felt supported in, I worked as a classroom teacher back in the district I would leave years later.

This foreshadowing event has often played in my mind on the drive home from work. I moved to a smaller district and I love it. The way I felt as a new teacher, is similar to how I feel now. It has been an awesome move. I have lost weight, my hair is growing back, I don't have to stress (too much) about work or the kids. And I decided to not retire at the end of the year.

So, the lesson learned is this: More money (in this situation) means more stress. I wouldn't be able to do it for long before the older symptoms come back. So, I'll go with my gut on this one (and my daughter's opinion) and stay where I am. It's the best place to be bar none.

Who would've guessed it?

 

Jason used to say, "Don't worry honey.  It'll click for him someday."  Well, that "someday" happened in high school, and boy did he run with it.  On Saturday, Jack graduated from college with a major in Math and Education (he minored in Computer Science).  Not only did he graduate with the degree in math, but he did it Summa Cum Laude.  I cannot tell you how proud we were that he graduated, but that he graduated with a MATH degree.  His dad would've been so stinking proud of him.  

You see, Jack struggled in school.  And I mean STRUGGLED.  In 1st grade, his dad had to have a parent meeting with Jack's teacher because Jack kept stuffing his math papers (and only his math papers) in the back of his desk.  In upper elementary, we'd frantically finish MATH papers because he didn't turn them in.  He always had to stay for MATH tutoring in elementary and junior high.  Only in junior high when he realized that it helped him understand it better, did I not have to feel like the World's Worst mom for making him stay.  

In junior high, his 7th grade math teacher (and Navy veteran) helped him realize that tutoring wasn't so bad, and that people were willing to help you out if you showed the effort and that you cared.  In high school, his Offensive Line coach (who got his doctorate in math) and a couple of other math teachers helped him understand that he did truly know the math, he just needed the confidence.  His geometry teacher encouraged him to take Pre-AP Algebra, and his algebra teacher encouraged him to take Pre-AP Algebra III.  When he went to college to play football and pursue his degree, they placed him as an English major even though he thought he wanted to do math.  After a year of that, he decided English wasn't where his passion was and switched to math.  He truly took off after that.

As a Reading/Language Arts teacher, it was always amazing to hear him explain a concept to someone.  He has also begun looking at computer sciences and AI and built his own computer.  His dad and I always knew it would click for him.  And it did.

Shutting down the brain at night.

I know, based on my science classes, that the brain doesn't completely shut down at night.  That's why we dream.  However, sometimes, it would be nice if I didn't remember the dream.  I remember one conversation I had with my older sister about a dream she'd had that was really scary.  It was a little comical listening to the story, but I knew from experience that it was scary in the moment.  

The story goes...She was being chased by an unknown menace.  As she ran up the alley behind our house, she stopped and actually thought to herself..."Okay.  If this is a dream, I'll wake up."  And she stood there for a hot minute and waited.  When she didn't wake up she was like, "Oh well.  I guess this isn't a dream," and she continued running down the alley.

I have also heard that your brain will take ideas or emotions that you are experiencing at the time and incorporate them into your dream.  I understand the need for the brain to continue working, but when a dream leaves you emotionally drained when you wake up; that's defeating.  

There was no need for a Dream Translator last night.  With everything going on in the world and the need to convey an image of calm to my children so they don't panic with world events, my brain decided to express those worries in a dream last night.  If that were the only thing I was worried about, then the dream would've been less sad.  But it wasn't and my brain ran with it.  Darn thing!

I may need to look at doing Yoga or something before bed to help calm my brain.  Suggestion would be appreciated.

Part of the Parent Manual

There are times, as a parent, when I feel that I crushed the whole "parent thing".  But then, I'm reminded that there are certain lessons that would've been nice to know ahead of time.  Like, you have to teach your kids to skip, hop, run, and to say "please" and "thank-you".  I remember once, one of my kids asked, "Mom, do you now how to skip?"  That question took me by surprise because I seem to remember not ever knowing how to skip.  But then, I asked my mom if I had always skipped.  The reaction I got was a bit surprising.  She said, "Um no.  But watching you figure it out was quite the show."  That began a journey to learn which skills I needed to teach my kids and which ones would come "naturally".  

Now that they are about to venture out on their own, I'm left to ask myself, "Did I teach them everything I thought comes naturally?"  Thank goodness they aren't afraid to ask.  I got a call today from my daughter saying, "Now, I'm asking because I don't want to burn down the house..."  What was she asking about?  Whether or not a cast iron skillet was safe to put in the oven.  This led to... what items, besides metal you don't put in the microwave, what items you don't put in the oven.  My son has asked questions about depositing money, applying for a credit card, how that works, and when they apply interest.  I'm sure I'll get more of these types of questions, just to remind me that a Parent's Manual would've been nice.

There is some truth to the saying.

 When I was a new teacher, I would see veteran teachers retire. A few months or so after, one would come visit a colleague for lunch. Someone would always say something like, “Wow! They look GOOD. When they retired, they looked tired.” Someone else would always joke, “Yeah. Well. They retired.”  As I grew as a teacher (and older), that  didn’t seem like it was too far from the truth. 

But now, I have experienced it in a way that makes me realize, it’s really the truth. I haven’t retired from education. But in a way, I retired being a classroom teacher. I’m no longer in charge of 22-23 children. I don’t have to make lesson plans or grade papers. Now I am in a position that allows me to help teachers and students. Now, I analyze data, coach teachers, tutor students (both during the day and after school), and pitch in wherever I'm needed.  The main difference is, I don't have to make lesson plans (per se), grade papers, enter grades, or have classroom management.  I have to say, it's caused me to reflect on the toll my profession took, not only on me, but my family.

My POV: The first few months of school, I found myself coming home at night and asking myself, "What do I do with my time?"  For the first time in my career (29 years), I literally had nothing to do school wise.  No papers need to be graded, no plans to make, no worrying if I had gotten to everything, no worrying if I had enough copies, enough materials, enough of anything.  

I planned dinners and ACTUALLY make them.  We have eaten out less because I can come home and cook.  It also helps that even though I leave early in the morning to go workout (at the gym by 5:30 am), I can text my family and ask them to leave out something in the sink to thaw.  If my kids need help with homework, I can help them without worrying about what I'm having to put off to do it.  I have found out that I do better if I work out in the mornings.  I get up at 5:00 am, and hit the gym by 5:30 am.  I can get in a workout, cool down, and change clothes at the gym and still be at work by 7:00 am.  That's another noticeable difference.  I usually was at work by 6:45 am to make sure I could get last minute items ready.  I always made sure that I was home by 4:30 pm so I could help the kids with activities, get them to sports practices, and be (what I thought of as) present.  

I'd like to think that I did what I promised myself I'd do as a mom: be at my kids' sporting events, make sure they experienced what we could, and made them fell loved.  I'm sure every mom has those moments of "did I do enough? Was I enough? Are they ready?"  I'm finding that all I know for sure is, I did my best. My son is thriving in college, learning that he's more than an athlete, he's smart, funny, and learning to adult.  My daughter is just as amazing.  She's frugal, funny, seeing that she's more than an athlete, she's smart, sticks to her guns, and also learning to adult.  

In a down moment recently, I realized that when my kids look back at their childhoods, they'd see a mom who was always tired, had a messy house, lost her temper at low moments, and wasn't "present".  Teaching was a big contributor to that.  Not only because of the ridiculous demands that the education agency placed on us, but because I cared.  I voiced this fear to Kevin, not knowing that my son was nearby and heard.  As I got ready for bed, he came in and said, "I'm realizing, now that I'm older, that adulting is hard.  I just want you to know that when I look back at my childhood, I'll remember a mom who was strong, fearless, and amazing.  It's hard for me to be an adult and care for myself.  I am amazed and proud of how hard you worked to make sure we had a normal childhood.  When I look back, I see a mom who loved me and Caroline.  Who fought hard and often went outside her comfort zone because we needed her to.  Yeah, she had the help of her family, but when push came to shove, she rose to the occasion.  So what if she took a nap on Saturday or Sunday, so what if our house was messy, so what if dinners were sometimes macaroni and cheese with a vegetable thrown in for good measure.  She did the best she could with what life threw at her. That's what I'll remember about my mom when I look back at my childhood."

Since I have been in my new position, I have been able to do more with the kids.  This is Caroline's senior year of high school.  During her last season of volleyball (ever), I was able to participate in some of the traditions and volunteer more.  She and I have cooked dinner together, gone on Diet Dr. Pepper runs to simply check-in with each other, and navigate looking for a college.  She is my traveler.  I know she feels like she hasn't gone anywhere interesting like some of the kids she knows at school.  But she's been all over the US, from coast to coast.  I hope that she is braver than me and travels to far away places.   

But the environment for teachers is a stressful one more so now than ever before.  State legislatures all over the country are passing laws that pit parents against the school systems.  I recently posted an FYI to a local social media page, and the comments went in a totally different direction.  The post was a simple, "hey, you should know your rights as parents as they exist today."  But the comments went in a direction that ended up pitting two people against each other.  In the end, my point was, "Make an appointment with your child's teacher.  They want you, as the parent, to be just as informed as you can be since we are working together to educate your child."  The atmosphere in communities has also become contentious.  Teachers and students end up in the crossfire, and then you have what is happening where I live.  Superintendents are retiring/resigning.  Teachers are risking their certifications and leaving.  There is a substitute shortage in schools, teachers are taking days, getting sick, or resigning because it is just too much.  I fear for our children.  I fear for my children as they try to figure out what they will become when they graduate college.  All of this wears on a person.  A teacher who cares is faced with challenges from parents, state institutions, students who are struggling to catch up, students who are unruly, parents who are tired, demands to "bridge the gap" but no time allowed to do that because state standardized tests can't be delayed.  I'm not seeing it just in Texas.  It's all over.  

So for me, the saying is true.  Teachers who retire do look better, rested, and more carefree.  I haven't retired yet (I officially can next year), and I won't either.  At least not until Caroline graduates from college. But without the stress of being in a classroom day in and day out, I have become a better version of my old self.  And that allows me to be the support that teachers/students need, the more "present" mom my kids need, and a better person all around.

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree...

 When I was little, we had a tradition of going to the Christmas Tree lot and picking out our Christmas Tree the weekend after we returned from Thanksgiving.  I'm sure it's a familiar tradition for a lot of people: you pile into the car, scatter at the lot, pick out your choice and then spend the remaining time going around to each person's tree and trying to "sell it" to the rest of your family.  It couldn't be too tall, too prickly, few holes (or at least it could be turned to the wall to disguise it).  We did this EVERY year.  

Until...we didn't.  

One year, my mom had to go up to Oklahoma for some reason and we didn't have a tree.  It looked like the tradition would miss a year.  My memory of that time is sketchy because I don't remember if she was up there on weekends and then worked during the week, or if she was up there for a long time.  I do know that we didn't have a tree.  One day, my older sister suggested that we go on our own.  She had a car, she could drive, and mom had left money for us to get a tree.  So one Saturday morning, Sara, Kirsten and I loaded up in her car and drove to the Christmas Tree Lot.  We'd been going there for YEARS and the owner remembered us and inquired about why it was just the three of us.  Kirsten explained the situation, and we went off to find The One.  We scaled it down because well, we realized what many children realize as they get older...that having to do it yourself changes your expectations.  We hadn't really had any preparation or training for how to do this because our mom had always taken care of it.  Up to that point, we just were passengers along for the ride.

We eventually settled on a small tree that could fit on our coffee table, was easy to transport, and would fit on top of Kirsten's car.  The owner of the lot had the tree placed on top of the car and gave us instructions on what to do when we got home.  He understood the situation and set out to help.  

I remember that Christmas not because my mom was gone, but because my sisters and I did things together to make sure the season was just as fun.  The rest of the story goes like this: my mom was up in Oklahoma on Christmas Day.  My sisters and I woke up and got ready for opening presents, but it didn't feel the same.  So we decided to pack up our presents (and my mom's) and drive to Oklahoma.  Four hours later, we celebrated the day with my mom and grandparents.  It was a fun surprise for my mom and a great memory for me.

This year, I bought a small live tree and decorated it with lights.  For some reason, it makes me think of that time my sisters and I lugged a small tree home to keep a tradition alive.