9 Tardies, 8 Absences

"Leadership is about taking responsibility, not making excuses."  Mitt Romney

Class of 2018. Ironically, after just binge watching all 6 seasons of The Walking Dead we are now zombies ourselves. 

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So this just happened:

Student:    What?! You count "sleeping in" as an unexcused absence? I didn't even know I was                             missing class because I was asleep.
Me:           Don't you set an alarm?
Student:    My mom usually wakes me up but she forgot. By the time she remembered I didn't have                      time to get ready.
Me:           So you are blaming your absence on your mom?
Student:    Well, it was her fault.
Me:           Should I send your unfinished work to her too?
Student:    She's really busy so I don't think she'll have time to do it.
Me:           So when are you going to learn the stuff you missed while you were gone?
Student:    ..............I dunno. I have to work after school every day this week.

Not kidding. This was a 16 year-old person who ended up with 9 tardies in my class and 8 absences and we met 21 times total. He was dead serious.

I just finished my 25th year in secondary education and things bug me so much more than they used to. ;-) I'm seeing a couple of trends that have always been there, but seem to be getting worse by the day. Keep in mind that I spent my first year of teaching in a Japanese High School trying to find out what they had that we teachers needed to have and what I found out was that the Japanese parent is a slave driver. In a good way. They seem to be single-mindedly concerned about their child's daily education. Do you see young Japanese families on vacation here in the United States? No. You see young adults that are through with their education. A Japanese parent would rather die than take their kids out of school for any reason until they are 18. A Japanese citizen also takes care of their parents until they are dead. It's good karma. You won't be wearing the cheap leaky diapers when you are 80 if your kids are independently successful. They can afford the Depends Deluxe. See the pay-off?

Seriously, I feel like there is no clear standard or line we cross when allowing a child to miss a school day. Nobody wants to take blame anymore. Nobody wants to admit they are wrong. Nobody wants to volunteer for anything anymore. Nobody wants to take on responsibility anymore. School doesn't matter. You can catch up at any time. Except this concept of catching up comes at a cost.

It used to be sickness. You could miss school if you were contagious, but for no other reason. My mom would hold up her hand and say "Show me the blood," or "if you are awake, you can go to school," or "when you lose a vital organ, bring it to me and then you can stay home from school." Then there was that ONE time my dad poured a glass of ice water on me to get me out of bed. That only happened once.

I'm not sure where they are learning it or if some kids are not expected to work hard in school, or if there isn't a parent riding them from home encouraging them to take on goals and personal standards like mine did. Perhaps its a mix of each of these problems. Whatever it is, its a terrible turn. In my class, we are pushing, driving, learning every day. If they miss, they will be behind. Yet there are a million excuses now, and "family vacation" and "I slept in," have far surpassed "sickness" as the most common reason to skip school.

When I emailed this mom about her child's absence (in the example above) she said "I have to wake my children up. We've tried to get [our child] to use an alarm clock but [child] turns it off." What happens when that kid has to wake up for work when they're 30?

At the end of April I had the following conversation with a student and this is what prompted me to start this blog:

Student:     My family is going on vacation starting on April 29th and we won't be back until after                         school is out. What will I miss?

Me:           (choking) Whaaat? You're going to miss the entire last month of school?

Student:     My mom got cheaper flights by going now instead of waiting...so we have to go.

Me:           You have to go too?

Student:     Well, I don't want them to leave me home (duh...).

Me:            Aside from the state standardized tests you are going miss, the daily bell work, the daily                      assignments, test and quizzes...

Student:     Can you email me all the work and I will do it while I am there? But sometimes we won't                    have internet. Can I just pick up all that work right now?

(Update:      No homework was submitted, school got out last week.) 

I appreciate that a student is getting an opportunity to go on vacation and perhaps they will learn a lot while they are there. But they are only in school for 180 days - half the year. They can't choose from the other 180 to go on vacation?! I know there are legitimate excuses but this is just a symptom of how we (the American people) are devaluing the education system in America. This student missed an entire month where we learned to write an analytical essay and put it in the MLA format. This formatting will be required of her throughout her academic life from this point on. She missed it. She'll have to catch up somehow and that will put stress on her next teacher down the line, not to mention the added stress on me to remember to email everything to her and/or have it ready for her to take with her. Contrary to popular opinion most teachers don't have the assignments for the next week or two ready to go in advance because things change, concepts have to be taught at their pace and many forms of assessment are not written on paper nor from a book. We are not human regurgitating textbooks that can print out the next two weeks of worksheets and tests and send a kid off on vacation and expect them to focus on that work while they are gone. I can't give any kind of assessment of their learning if I am in the classroom and they are in the Bahamas. I can't answer questions, correct their work as they go or even explain a concept at their level of learning if they aren't getting it.

Yet...that student will eventually be tested on a standardized test that the state wants to be a direct reflection back on me...a direct correlation to my paycheck. A paycheck that would never afford me an entire month of vacation time outside the country.

I digress...gotta stop before I start spouting green smoke out my ears.

The real point is...on any given day, there are several students out of class. This means that I will be repeating what I have taught several times. Kids get sick and I was sick two days this year myself where I was medicated beyond recognition for migraine. I get it. But its the vacations, the babysitting, the work, the laziness, the apathy that adds stress to my work day. Every time a parent allows a student to miss class for any of those reasons, it adds an incredible amount of work to the teacher. Times that by 3 - 6 kids per class every day...you get it. I wish everyone would think about that before they let their kid sleep in, babysit or enjoy a discounted cruise opportunity. Think about the sheer volume of work you are adding to a teacher's day, a teacher with a masters degree that already stretches their paycheck like a rubber band just to live.

Now before you react with indignant huffs and puffs about family time, special opportunities that just come up, or even surgeries or extended illnesses, etc... I get it. But this is my blog and I get to complain and plead for understanding too. I understand when there are kids that land in the hospital or have diseases and issues that require extended absence. I will bend over backwards to help those kids who have come upon unfortunate health problems. What makes me crazy is the illogical and absurd excuses kids and parents give that are not related to sickness at all.

Here are my TOP TEN FAVORITE EXCUSES (FOR MISSING SCHOOL) OF ALL TIME:

10.            "I work full time and don't have time to help my son his work after school. So it's my                          fault really. Don't fail him because I'm a bad mom. I just can't keep up with all his work                      and mine too. We have 6 other children. It's really tough."

9.               "I won't be in class all week. My parents are going rock climbing and I need to stay home                     and babysit."

8.                (spent the entire day in her boyfriends car in the parking lot)

                    Jan: I saw you in the parking lot with your boyfriend. Why didn't you come to class?

                   "I don't have to come if I don't want to. My mom will just call it in."

7.                 "Mrs. Hunsaker: [my child] was on a life changing family vacation for my parents 50th                        anniversary. Please accept all of her late work on time because we were on a cruise and                        we didn't have access to the internet."

6.                  (missed finals week)  "My families time share is only good for the next two weeks, so                          we are going skiing in Germany and I will be gone. What do I need to do?"

5.                 "I forgot to plug in my phone and it died in the night so my alarm didn't go off.  You                             can't blame me for technological problems."

4.                 "I had to work. There was no one else they could call."

3.                  There are some classic excuses for unfinished, or non-existent work, but none so good                           as this one: "I didn't have any colored pencils." I point to a box with probably 1000                               colored pencils in 16 colors sitting up at the front of the room 15 feet away. "What's                             that?" I asked. "But I asked people to bring me some and they wouldn't." I shake my                             head to see if I had actually heard that. I lower my head and look under the desk.                                  "Those your legs?" I asked. "Well, I didn't feel like getting up," she responded.

2.                   "Can I borrow your glasses? I'm staging some pictures to put in my Sterling Scholar                             portfolio. I'm pretending that I gathered glasses for the homeless and I need as many as                       I can get. Don't worry, I'll give them back in about 10 minutes." That goes right along                           with this: "What can I do for you in the next fifteen minutes that I can put on my                                   resume?" (So much time...gosh...you sure you can dedicate a whole fifteen minutes to                         it?)

And finally...

1.                  "I was trying to get caught up with the work I missed while I was gone."

With the advent of the internet and programs that allow teachers to post class work to online sites that students can access from anywhere - even their phones - we are attempting to take the excuses away. Still, it doesn't replace time in the presence of a teacher with specific knowledge in that content area. Please consider how much work you are adding to a teacher when you plan family vacations during unplanned time off or let your kids sleep in because its just too cruel to pour a glass of ice water on them. And college students! You think I forgot about you? I taught you too! Get your butt out of bed and go to class!

Consider the crueler lesson: if these habits are allowed to form you are stunting their growth! You might end up with a dependent human that can't function under a deadline, can't be on time to anything, has no respect for priorities or can't learn what they need to learn to drag themselves up and out of your basement to support themselves or their families.

Times are not getting easier. Life is not short. We are in a battle to prepare our kids for a time when they will govern us in our old age. Will they take on that responsibility and if they do, will they be able to seriously guide and lead the world through what are surely trickier times ahead? Only time will tell...meanwhile, and I say this to teachers and students alike: every minute we spend together in a classroom can make a difference, consequently, every minute needs to count.

The Ecphonesis O

O Me! O Life!

By Walt Whitman


O me! O life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.


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The poem "Oh Me! Oh Life!" was published in 1855 and part of a volume of poetry called Leaves of Grass. Click here for a copy of Leaves of Grass I fell in love with it after I saw “Dead Poet’s Society” the movie starring the brilliant Robin Williams (RIP).


Click here to see Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society


This is my favorite poem. Of the thousands and thousands of pieces of poetry that contend to be #1 on my list, this is it.

Poetry is special because the combination of theme, rhythm and word choice can elevate emotion like music. In fact, poetry should be read in silence to really feel what it’s trying to say. Every single time I read "O Me! O Life!" I am lifted. I feel better. It’s a like an old friend that hugs you and says “everything is going to be okay. You matter. You are enough.”

In the beginning it sounds like a poem of lament, or grieving, maybe self-pity. In the first line he summarizes his conflict: What is the purpose of my life (O me!), if life is so hard (O life!)? He comments about the “endless trains of the faithless” and “cities filled with the foolish” and then he humbly notes that he is the most foolish and faithless of them all and he is “forever reproaching” himself. I do that. So by beginning with a question, he makes an unusual choice by providing the answer to his questions:


Answer: (he gets the answer from himself)

That the powerful play goes on (choose life, powerful life)

And you may contribute a verse (everybody gets to equally contribute something, anything – a verse suggests something different from everyone else – if we were the same he would have said chorus)

What I love about the ending is that instead of wallowing in self-pity by leaving the question open and out there unanswered, he is strong enough (don’t we always have just a little juice in us to keep going?) to know the answer but there is no condescension about it. He pushes that universal button of empathy for life’s difficulties and his humility opens the door to us. He manifests his belief that life is powerful, but he doesn't offer a quick fix to humanities problems he intimates that we (everyone one of us) are contributing to society just by being alive…each one of us in a unique way.


But that’s not even half of the emotion it contains.

The tone of Walt Whitman’s famous poem starts with the very first word, which is in fact just a single vowel: O. This kind of O, the kind without the “h” attached to it, is special. You see it in the scriptures, in Greek theatrical texts, in Shakespeare too. We hardly ever think about its meaning because it’s just a single letter. But it’s so much more than just an O. It has been given the formal name “Ecphonesis O” by modern linguists. Sometimes it’s called the rhetorical O.

Ec-phonesis is Greek, and means “to cry out.” It’s derived from “exclameo,” to cry out. “Ecphonesis is a pathetical figure, whereby as the Orator or speaker expresses the vehement affection and passion of his own mind, so he also excites and stirs up the minds and affections of those to whom he speaks.” (JG Smith)

In Milton’s Paradise Lost the character of Eve, being told that she must leave her paradise, cries out, "O unexpected stroke! Worse than of death.”

This O elevates the emotion automatically! But why the heck is it missing its H?

Because I teach and study in Shakespeare’s world, when I coach our high school kids this is what I tell them when they ask the question “why doesn’t it have an H if you still pronounce it Oooooo?”

Well you really don’t pronounce it “o.” Early authors used the single O as a placeholder for emotional exclamations like “GRRRRR!” or “sighhhhh,” or “#!%*!” The Ecphonesis O is only used when the emotion is so high that there aren’t words for how troubled, or angry or happy a person is. Now days we might substitute the O with a piece of music and call it musical theatre. But Milton, Shakespeare, Sophocles and the authors of the bible didn’t write musicals. They couldn’t spell that moment in time when your body is wracked with torment and you expel a guttural “YAWP” as Walt Whitman would say:


The Song of Myself by Walt Whitman


The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains
          of my gab and my loitering
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
          I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.


Ever wondered why you never see movie or stage characters blowing their nose or going to the bathroom? We recreate life on stage or in a book for entertainment or education. We don’t watch a play about someone brushing their teeth or tying their shoes. There is no conflict in that. We don’t learn anything from it. It isn’t COMPELLING. However…add the Ecphonesis O to a script where Ruby the 8th grader goes to brush her teeth and she lets out a deep throaty “OOOOooooo” there’s something to that. She looks down and all her teeth are in the sink. WHAT IS HAPPENING? Now that's dramatic. That needs an O.

See, storytelling is only interesting when compelling things occur. So the Ecphonesis O is very useful for a playwright to give the actor/reader a clue about the grand emotion that is happening. There are upwards of 2400 Ecphonesis O’s in the Shakespeare canon alone.

Here’s a few good ones:

O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo!
O what a rogue in peasant slave am I…
O no! It is an ever fixed mark…
O you beast! O faithless coward! O dishonest wretch!
O reason not the need!
O let me be not mad, not mad sweet heaven!
O brave new world that hath such people in it!
O, O, O, I have lost my reputation!

The O didn't die with Shakespeare and Whitman. We've all used it at points in our life. There were a couple of times in my life when I tested the magnitude of the Ecphonesis O. One real doozy come to mind. I was living in the basement of my parent’s home trying to save money to buy my own home and I got a letter from one of my student’s parents rebuking me for not casting her daughter in a play. Her daughter was a loud, angry and negative soul. I think she reveled in creating drama backstage and I just couldn't face another show adding “put out [this girl’s] fires” to my to-do list again.

So I didn’t cast her.

I think that’s what parents don’t understand. They think by not signing their name to a steaming, stinky letter like that they are saving their child from some kind of retribution or retaliation from a teacher that can cast their children in plays. What they don’t know is that we need the system to function and I save myself a lot of trouble by not casting your kid. It’s never about you. I don’t care what you say. I know what I know.

Anyway... I digress. That's another blog for another time.

I was working late hours trying to put up the show, give kids an opportunity, seemingly by myself, and I was exhausted to say the least. In the middle of the night, I walked through the dark school up to the faculty room to buy a Diet Coke to keep myself awake. I grabbed my mail from my box and sat down on a comfortable chair and started going through it while I drank my precious Diet Coke. There was the letter. It was addressed to me but no return address, and no signature, though from its contents I knew exactly who it was. In a nutshell it said I was emotionally abusive and didn't know how to handle kids because I wasn't a mother myself. She called me “useless” because I was “free-loading” off my parents by living with them. (Everybody knows everything in a small town I guess.) She punched and kicked and stabbed. When I had finished digesting the letter I let out a cry that certainly defined the Ecphonesis O. It wasn't because the letter hurt me. It was because I suspected the letter was true. I was at that point in my life where I suspected I was useless except as a machine to showcase other people’s kids. And since I had chosen not to showcase her daughter this time, she had chosen to stab at my insecurities as an older, single, childless, Mormon woman with no prospects in sight to complete her version of who I should be. (You can only cut so close to the bone if you are also Mormon, which she was.)

I sat in that chair for a good hour, spilling Ecphonesis O after Ecphonesis O in heaps all over the floor. Crying out "...The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?" It was the kind of crying that makes your eyes pop out. It turns your face into a swollen flat surface. It gives you a migraine. It's wet and slobbery and you don't care. It makes you bend in half toward yourself, hug your knees, wipe snot on your pants because you might be the only one that can offer comfort in that moment. It makes you heave and gulp for air and whimper, all at the same time.

In the midst of it all, I started praying. I prayed that I could find out who I was and why I was truly alive. What purpose did He have for me and if this was it – just being the machine – I wanted o.u.t. I cried until I was finally able to ask Him to help me stop crying. I felt the Spirit wrap its arms around me and I fell asleep.

Around 5 AM I was awaken by the sound of custodial keys in the door. I bolted upright and looked at the clock. I sat there for a minute in a fog as the custodian laughed. I tried to remember why I was there and then I saw the letter – still clutched in my hand and it all came back to me. I laughed it off with “boy, that was a comfortable chair!” or something lame like that, and went home to shower so I could come back and do it all again. My eyes were two tiny puffy slits but I was emboldened with the kind of motivation that makes you write letters of resignation, which I did, and never submitted. I needed someone to notice me. I needed change. I needed my absence to count. I needed to be enough. Something.

My parents, long accustomed to me spending the night at the school, were still in bed when I got home. No one would know I had been gone all night. No one would care. No one would even raise an eyebrow… except the laughing custodian.

It is in times like these I am tempted to go on auto-pilot and tell myself that even my least passionate work, just my instinctual work, is still good enough. And then the guilt of working halfheartedly adds to the building disgust I have for myself. I create a fantasy world where I have 3 kids and a mini-van. Where people say “you’re kids are gorgeous!” or “your kids are so well behaved.” I crave teaching my own children how to walk, ride a bike, sew, bake… (grass is always greener). But the only thing I could really do to take my mind off of it, to fill the time, was disappear into a dark movie theatre by myself where I didn't have to talk to anyone and someone else could entertain me. (Ironic that I ended up teaching film.) Silly me, those moments only made me feel more sorry for myself. 

You can imagine that the other Ecphonesis O's in my life are not surprising and involve the years of bitterness, loneliness, finally getting married and then subsequent miscarriages and burying a baby. Those are obvious. But most of those O's were filled with hope, faith and a knowledge that those blessings will be restored if I am faithful and endure my trials. Some of those O's were bitter, but not for long. They taught me so much. They actually increased my faith and gave me strength, depth and empathy for others. Is that it? Is that it's function? I might be on to something.

My favorite Ecphonesis O is taken from the New Testament. The teacher in me appreciates what the O does to elevate emotion, but the human in me, the person that has utilized the Ecphonesis O a few time in my life as I have spoken in desperation, grief or gratitude to my Heavenly Father makes this particular "yawp," this cry, so significant to me.

At the close of Jesus’ public ministry, He found himself at the top of a hill overlooking Jerusalem, the Holy City, lamenting. The children of Israel had rejected Him and the safety He brought to them. As He looked out over the soon to be destroyed city, He was overcome with emotion and expressed His anguish:

          “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee; how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not!”

Just a few years later, the city was obliterated by the Romans, fulfilling the prophesy. Imagine being able to see that in the future and not able to prevent it because of the hardness of the hearts of your people. Jesus Christ knew the Ecphonesis O. He probably invented it; for "Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted." They who saw Him suffer, instead of seeing the sacrifice in it, imagined that He was suffering at God's hands. In His greatest agonies, they scoffed at His alleged parentage, yet in His death He would save them all.

I often wonder who the atheists turn to in the depths of an Ecphonesis O moment? What Omnipotent power comforts them in their darkest moments? To whom are they grateful? I'm ignorant here and I admit it. Who sustains them, makes them powerful? Maybe that's the big idea here. The trials that bring on the Ecphonesis O are a necessary evil. They brings us to our knees, they reminds us who we are and that we are not alone. We are simply building an unbreakable connection and life line to the endless power from whence we came.

Let the mighty trials and tribulations roll forth...BRING IT! Though I will probably always feel "foolish...faithless...intertwined in the plodding and sordid crowds" its my verse.

And I'm enough.

NEWSFLASH!

Let me first begin by excusing my husband from anything I am writing. These are not his opinions or thoughts, they are mine. It's my blog and I don't let him near it. He has taken a beating over his choice for the Spring play at our school, by a group of ultraconservative women in the community that do not have children in his Spring play "Almost Maine." One of the women's son was cast in the play, but when she found out that he had to kiss a girl in his scene, she pulled him out. Her compatriot went further and decided to raise an army on Facebook. One of the posts in the thread actually said "I'm secretly hoping he changes the play." Wow. Secrecy means something entirely different to me. 

But this isn't about me in any way, nor is it really my business; I'm not even able to respond to the thread because this Facebooker isn't on my list of friends (nor will she ever be) but I'm just shocked that this mentality still exists among the women of the world. I always expect more from women I guess. ;-) And if I need to keep waving the flag of tolerance I will do it until my arms fall off. I'm a teacher, it's what I do. I PRAY with all my heart that this blog reaches the people that need to read it. If you know someone that needs to read it, please send it on! Otherwise, I'm just writing so I can sleep at night...and that's okay too. 

Frankly, the whole things makes me weary. Considering the amount of CRAP that is out there in libraries full of ugly theatre literature, Almost Maine is one of the tamest, loveliest, funniest plays available. It's a humorous look at love and relationships. It contains little if any swears, no violence, no sex at all, not an ounce of nudity and by all accounts, it would probably be rated PG in the movies theatres for mild innuendo. Its very funny and it will make you say "ahhhhhh!" and drop a tear or two. This is why it has become the NUMBER ONE produced play in high schools around the nation. (Educational Theatre Association Survey)

But it's the same old story. It seems that no matter where you go, someone has appointed themselves the town's morality police and they expect you to conform or they will take it personally. But Les Mis, sells out in minutes around here. (MIND BOGGLING)

I'm still driving the bandwagon of tolerance I guess. Education will always make us a more tolerant people. Tolerance will increase civility and civility will increase love. It always comes back to love, doesn't it? We should do a play about love....oh...wait....

***************

Blood everywhere. Brain matter on the windshield. A small stray arm lay in the middle of the road still clutching My Little Pony. A car, folded up like an accordion spitting glass, steam and blood, is being pulled off the road. 30 teenagers scream and groan as they watch the firemen crack open an upside down truck to release the once drunk driver...who is not recognizable as a human anymore.
The teacher stands at the back of the classroom smiling wryly. He thinks this does the trick. He hopes the picture of this horrific accident will be tattooed in their brains every time they pick up a drink and then try to drive. 1981. Drivers education class. The best police training tapes they could get on reel to reel. I remember that we couldn't wait for that week in the semester when we got to see the notorious scare tactic films.

Scare tactics are powerful.

They're meant to sear a memory on you brain that pops up at opportune times in your life when you need to remember the consequences of bad behavior BEFORE you commit to it yourself.

We use scare tactics all the time. Adults do it to kids on a daily basis. It masks itself as education, or wisdom or good sound advice. The gorier the better. The more dramatic the consequences the better. Our aim is usually not to scare kids but to keep them safe. Once my 5 year old niece got lost at Disneyland and we couldn't find her for ten minutes. When my sister finally found her looking through the fence and clapping at the teacups the new mom cried out (in a panic of course): "do you want some stranger to steal you away from us and cut you into chunks and throw you in the river?! Is that what you want?!" Of course not. We all laughed but our hearts rates didn't slow down for a few hours.

My scare tactics usually begin with, "...where is your homework...why didn't you do your homework...why are you late? And then the punch to the gut: Are you willfully choosing to work for minimum wage the rest of your life? Or you could use Andy's favorite, "I hope you like playing Nintendo in your parents basement forever."

There's even a reality TV show called "Scare Tactics." My favorite is the one that takes kids that are on the edge of prison into a locked down facility to see what it's like and hear it first hand from the prisoners themselves. It's called "Scared Straight." If that doesn't scare a kid into shaping up I don't know what will.

However, we assume if we tell them not to drink and drive that they won't. We assume that if the health teacher shows them a video of a woman having a baby, or that vile STD PowerPoint, that they won't have unprotected sex. Uh, huh. We want to believe that they perceive jail as an undesirable place to live...but it might just be better and safer than where they live now. Or they might just want to avoid the constant stream of advice they're getting. If they think the rules are tough at home or in the classroom...ha!

Unfortunately, most kids either choose to learn the hard way, or choose to learn it for themselves because they lack trust or they just wanna have "fun." (I'm speaking of course, about my own childhood. I never landed in jail, but there was that time we went swimming out at Saratoga in the middle of the night and just barely managed to escape the police after the alarms went off...that scared me straight enough. I ran so fast I was almost dry by the time my friends caught up with me.)

What is the punishment for chaining your kid to the bed or locking them in the attic until they are 25? I'm sure that's literally against the law, but figuratively we do it all the time. At what point do you "teach them the way they should go" and then l.e.t. t.h.e.m. g.o.?

Andy and I have made an annual pilgrimage to the National Theatre Festival and a bi-annual trek out to New York to see the new plays and musicals. We consider it research for work, because believe it or not, I don't enjoy the theatre that much. My greatest joy is in seeing kids grow in ways that only the theatre can teach. We want to make sure that we are choosing shows that stretch kids for a maximum educational opportunity. We want to get them hooked so they choose that as their drug of choice. Truthfully, we're just underpaid drug dealers at heart.

What has got me riled up this week is a Facebook post that I described above. In the thread several women post their opinions and I'm all for that. God forbid we ever lose the freedom to say how we feel. Well, this is how I feel. I have copied several portions of the thread and pasted them here in case you missed it.

(The green print is what I have quoted from the thread on Facebook:)

Post Writer: The [        ] High School play this Spring is "Almost, Maine." It's a series of vignettes about falling in love including this one. Do you think this is appropriate for our high school and for our community. I don't but the director does. What are your thoughts?

(At this point in her post, the writer inserts a YouTube video of another high school's production in doing a scene from the play Almost Maine by John Cariani. This is the scene between two best friends that find out they would rather spend time with each other than anyone else. Yes, these are two boys, and yes, the innuendo is there in a humorous way, but could be taken in a myriad of ways.)

Post by High School Student: Andy (our director) edited it and it's another boy-girl scene now. He changed it because he knew this would be the reaction in this community.

Post Writer: It's a controversial topic and I appreciate your opinions. Thanks for your update, [High School Student]. Any other thoughts? Do you think this play would help or hurt? (emphasis added).

Help or hurt.

HELP OR HURT? 

HELP OR HURT?!?!?!?

Let the flood gates open...a.g.a.i.n.

(I quote the thread again - and all it's syntax errors)

I see this play as "not a good fit for our community" for several reasons.

Okay I already have to stop. WHO SPEAKS FOR AN ENTIRE TOWN? Is she the mayor? Is she protesting a nuclear waste dump next to an elementary school? I was so hopeful that our new town was filled with the kind of diversity that helps everyone learn to love each other. Still there are some ultraconservatives out there that continue to "piously wave their self-made rules above all our heads." There's no escaping them. HOLY HERRIMAN! This Facebook thread makes me feel afraid that if I express my political stance, I will get a shunning. Dang it. I REALLY LIKE THIS TOWN! (I know they aren't all like her. In fact, when I directed several local people to the thread, they assured me that she is the micro-minority as I suspected.)

I have already digressed. Let's keep going...

I see this play as "not a good fit for our community" for several reasons.

One - I agree with [ ] and others that this is too mature for 15 and 16 yr olds to be performing. She did a great job explaining why so I won't say anything more.

I have to stop again because you should know that she is basing her opinions on another director's production that was posted on YouTube. Not my husband's choices for his kids. She is assuming that we are all bound to "color" the page with the same 8 crayons. Yes - we don't cut the script down without permission, BUT, just so you know... 

NEWSFLASH #1

THE STAGE DIRECTIONS ARE OPTIONAL – THE TEXT IS NOT

Stage directions are most likely written by a stage manager and I am not obligated to use them for my production. I am only obligated to use the text as written. So when I read the thread on Facebook about how disgustingly inappropriate the play is for high school students, the author of the post quoted one particular scene to give her argument credibility. In this scene, the characters systematically take off their clothes. Inappropriate on stage for high school kids? YES! Of course yes. But because it’s in the stage direction, Andy will just ignore it or tone it down with his kids and take it in a different direction. He will use the same text – but a different context. We directors have a thousand choices. I am not obligated to use the choices that the first director used. It’s just there as a record of what the first cast did. So saying that a play is inappropriate based of the stage direction is a claim made by ignorant readers.

We high school teachers have to be really creative sometimes…but we are. For example, I hate the ending of Grease - where Sandy dons the leather pants and "comes down" to Danny's social level to get her man. So instead of changing the text, I simply had Danny wear a goofy plaid shirt and letter sweater. No need for the text change - the costume choice changed the tone. (and we made $20,000 which allowed us to go to Scotland).

Her post continues... TAKE A DEEP BREATH BEFORE YOU READ THIS:

Two - I'm concerned that homosexuality is becoming a trend in our plays. "The drowsy chaperone" had references to it and now this play. I'm not okay with this. Even though the homosexuality is edited out it is opening the door through familiarity to make it easier to include it in future works. There are thousands of plays to choose from. Couldn't we have something more edifying and fitting with our values? Three - by purchasing this play our community has put a stamp of approval on the national movement to accept homosexuality and gay marriage. It doesn't matter that it was edited out. No outsider will know that. However, they will be able to use our town as a statistic showing that even the small towns in conservative Utah are teaching their kids that homosexuality is an acceptable lifestyle choice. Other towns may look at us and think "Well if it was okay for conservative [name of town] It would be okay for us." It is one thing to have a group of judges force the state's hand to accept gay marriage. It is quite another to actively choose (or condone through our silence) to have our children acting out a play known to support homosexuality.

I don't even know where to start here. Maybe I could just go dig her a hole in the sand that she can put her head into until this whole "homosexual thing" blows over. I know a bunch of homosexuals, maybe we should tell them - ON AN INTERNATIONAL SOCIAL MEDIA SITE - that we hate them and they aren't welcome in our town. ....BLUSTERING-HEAD-SHAKING-RASPBERRIES-OF DISBELIEF!!

I C.A.N.T.E.V.E.N!


NEWSFLASH #2
You can't catch homosexuality. It's not contagious. There. I've said it. WHEW! I hope she reads this just so she can get that straight before all the gays move into our newly tolerant town and her kids get the disease! She'll sleep better tonight. The problem is, later in the thread the writer says she knows several homosexual men that would rather not be homosexual. Then she says, "homosexuality is a temptation and can be overcome." It was painfully obvious to me (and two of my gay Mormon friends that read the thread) that no one has ever told her the truth. Even the LDS church has backed down from that stance. Didn't she get the memo? Homosexuality IS ONE OF the sexualities. We shouldn't need to "protect" our children from it. That's insane. That in itself bears an inherent judgment already. What if your child was gay? Would you want people to protect themselves against him? I'm sick of even thinking about this anymore. It just saddens me.

NEWSFLASH #3
You are telling the entire world (via Facebook) that you disdain homosexuality and you are speaking for everyone in the town. That's not fair. Think of how you made our gay brothers and sisters feel with your statement. I know you don't think you're doing Satan's work...but OH how you have fallen naively into his trap.

NEWSFLASH #4
Andy is not editing the BFF scene out of the play. We didn't have enough boys audition (as usual) and since he knew this is how you would react, he opted to change the scene to a boy and a girl. None of the text will be cut without permission from the author or his agent. We have to put girls in boys roles all the time, there are so many more of them in this art. (BECAUSE GIRLS ROCK!) AND ALSO, AGAIN - it's about tone.

Okay...back to the post before my eyes pop out of my head.

"when [the writer of the post] asked if this will help or hurt, I think it will hurt at least [our town's} family attendance, because it's not meant in any way for the whole family, younger siblings, it's in my opinion, something you would go to in college, or on adult date, where the context can be understood."

See Newsflash #1.

She goes on to say that Andy "asked my son to kiss a girl in the play."

NEWSFLASH #5

This social contract of auditioning is optional in every land I've ever worked in and unless you tell the teacher in advance what your parameters are, the teacher will assign you to the role she thinks is appropriate for you, kissing or not. Auditions infer that you WANT to be in the play. The director puts you in a role that is right for your child and right for the overall concept of the play. I want you to read the scripts of the plays your children are auditioning for BEFORE you let them audition. Be that involved. Don't be a bully about your particular standards. Teach your children that if the play content does not reflect your standards, then they should simply choose to do something else without piousness (and Facebook). 

Matthew 6: 2 - 6.

Andy had 20 COPIES of the play available for you to check out and read in advance. You have every right to complain about the content of a play BEFORE auditions happen. But unless you bring more than half of the community with you that believe the same thing, don't cover yourself with the "community standard" blanket. There isn't one. Once a play is up and running...back off! Let learning happen. If you go to the play and find out that "OH NO! My child says some swears! Or my child has to kiss someone in his scene, I'm going straight to the media about this," that ship has sailed! It's too late! Your ignorance does not give you the right to complain anymore. Whatever negativity you bring to the experience only punishes the entire cast at that point and the overworked teacher who must now re-cast the role somehow. That's not your right.

NEWSFLASH #6
Kids know so much more than you think. What kills me about this mentality is that they don't want their children to delve into these characters because they might "learn too much." If that's the problem, you better stop sending them to public school. This is THEIR world - not ours anymore. They already know SO MUCH MORE than we do.

NEWSFLASH #7
We are now sending our boys and girls out on missions the second they graduate high school. Then when they get back we are telling them to get married as soon as they can. Where's the scare tactic film for that scenario? Here's the GRAND CONUNDRUM: if you aren't married by 20 in this state, you have failed in your mission to fulfill the measure of your creation. No one ever wants you to take your time finding out who you are or let you develop your agency outside of your parent's umbrella before they are tapping their foot and telling your boyfriend to "fish or cut bait."  (You know that wasn't the version of that cliche I was going to use but Andy said I had to "be nice.") So wouldn't you take an opportunity to let your child learn about relationships in high school under the watchful eye of an adult who is in control of the play (and the amount of kissing) step by step? Oh...right...this Facebooker, doesn't think the play is appropriate for anyone nor should kids be taking on roles as adults. There goes Oklahoma, The Sound of Music, South Pacific, Fiddler on the Roof, Les Mis..... Even in the play You Can’t Take It With You, the house is filled with a family that doesn't work, refuses to pay taxes and the maid's boyfriend spends the night. Its a well known classical fact that Oedipus had children with his mother and in Arsenic and Old Lace two old ladies that KILL people and bury them in their basement.

Years ago I used to direct musicals with junior high aged kids. These were kids ages 12 - 14. They were so awesome. It was, without a doubt, one of the greatest era's of my life. One to the first plays we did was Fiddler on the Roof. We watch sweet Motel and Tzeitel profess their love to each other and then eventually, once Tevye works his magic, they get married. Do you have them kiss at the end of that beautiful wedding scene? Yep. I did. Everybody is waiting for it. It's the denouement of that story line. Sort of like watching the past two seasons of 19 Kids and Counting. But do the drama teachers in UTAH have a 14 year-old kiss another 14 year-old, when most of the young people here are advised not to even date until they are 16? Well, first you should know that might be a possibility if your child auditions because you've read the play or asked the director.

Kissing serves many purposes and NOT ONE of them is to give your child the opportunity to kiss another child. Two characters in the play will kiss each other as a sign of the relationship progressing, or the finale of a wedding ceremony as a generally accepted sign of mutual agreement, or whatever. I won't be parading a bunch of junior high-aged kids through a kissing festival. It's just stupid and awkward anyway unless you control it in rehearsal. I know when enough is enough. However, she doesn't know me. She doesn't know that I'm not going to add gratuitous kissing on stage. I get that. But she didn't ask until AFTER the child had been cast in a role that required kissing and THEN she called Andy. Andy explained all that but still, she pulled her kid out of the show. And she gets to do that because she is the parent. I get it. I just wish she would have let him do something in the show because he is about the sweetest most awesome kid in the world and I love working with him.

I. d.i.g.r.e.s.s!

To the credit of the owner of the thread, she deleted it and replaced it with an apology about a week after it began to roll forth. But it wasn't until there were about 40 opinions posted and lots of offended readers. Obviously, this post started many vehement conversations on both sides and this blog. I was so impressed that there were many that were in favor of respecting the choices of the teacher and principal who have been given the right to choose the material based on their knowledge of the content area and the needs of the kids.

Of course you know what side I am going to take, every time and I am going to side with Brigham Young EVERY SINGLE TIME. I've posted this time and again, but can it be said too much? People were mad at Brigham Young for finishing the playhouse before he finished the temple. In fact, the theatre was the first building to be finished in the state. In response to this he states:

"Upon the stages of a theatre can be represented in character, evil and its consequences, good and its happy result and rewards; the weakness and the follies of man, the magnanimity of virtue and the greatness of truth. The stage can be made to aid the pulpit in impressing upon the minds of a community an enlightened sense of a virtuous life, and also a proper horror of the enormity of sin and a just dread of its consequences. The path of sin with its thorns and pitfalls, its gins and snares can be revealed, and how to shun it." (Discourses of Brigham Young, pg. 243)

Brigham Young wanted the early citizens of Utah to use the theatre as an "aid to the pulpit." Did binge-watching Breaking Bad make me want to do meth? NO! Every meth dealer in the show got his due in the end or ran from it is as scared as I am. I don't even eat blue lifesavers anymore.

And that's the key maybe. What Brother Brigham was saying, essentially, is that the theatre can be used as a scare tactic. Why not? Why is it okay in schools to show the vile STD PowerPoint or the crash videos and not let kids re-enact adult roles "...impressing upon the minds of a community an enlightened sense of a virtuous life and also a proper horror of the enormity of sin ... and how to shun it?"

NEWSFLASH #8
It's 2015. If your kids made it through junior high, they've already seen it all.

Size 12 Foot, Size 7 Shoe

So I am preparing my students to take the SAGE test which is a standardized test that all high school kids take. It will determine my salary at some point - though I don't know which point but I will proceed I guess. What choice do I have? Scary to entrust a high school teacher's salary on a student's knowledge bank over 10 - 12 years. I had a tenth grader ask me last week what a semicolon looked like. Has he never used a winky face emoticon?

;-)

Utah's education needs are a like a size 12 foot crammed into a size 7 shoe. It is during this time every year that I say a special prayer for the legislators that will be buying this year's shoes for education. Can we at least buy a size 8...wide width? Year after year we have been asked, as teachers, to do what we can with what we have. "Keep cramming your foot into that shoe!" For many years it has felt as if the shoe gets smaller and smaller because the foot is getting bigger; this I know for sure. Yet, rather than decrease the size of Utah's classes or build more schools or give us more technology in the classroom, they keep changing the testing requirements; I was just getting used to the CRT's and now we're doing the SAGE. What happened to the UBSCT? They keep asking me to write to my legislators and I DO - every single year - and I'm now on so many mailing lists for politicians I'm looking for some size 12 shoes to throw at politicians.

I wish they would just spend a week in my classroom. In fact, I wish they would just spend the 7-minute passing time in my classroom between classes. "Jan, I need...Jan, you marked me absent...Jan, why do I have an F...Jan, are you going to be here after school...Jan, I wasn't here for the semicolon quiz...Jan...jan...jan..jaaa...a...n

And that's just the easy stuff.

According to the most recent educational census, Utah ranks third in highest student to teacher ratio. 48th Place.

Thanks California and Oregon.

The good news is the average teacher salary is no longer on the bottom! Based on the cost of living, we have elevated our teachers salaries up from last place to fourth from the bottom in the last ten years. 47th Place!

Woot.

The U.S. average per student expenditures for public elementary and secondary schools in 2013 was $10,938. Vermont is highest and spends almost twice that - $19, 752! Their teacher to student ratio is also 9:1. New York is close behind, spending $19, 523 per student. Utah? $7, 223. Only one state spends less than we do...

...Thanks Arizona.

49th place.

Update - 2014-2015 - Utah is now in last place.

It's embarrassing. Who wants to take 49th out of 50? I guess it doesn't bother anyone holding the purse strings. I wonder what would happen if there was a trophy involved? Maybe we should take the example of the high school debaters, basketball players and wrestlers that clearly understand the concept of competition. You work hard, you get creative, you learn the moves of the opposing player, you fix your weaknesses and you get a trophy. There is personal pride involved.  We have been educating kids for eons and I feel like we don't learn very quickly from our mistakes. Or we keep changing our minds about what is good for kids. Somebody comes along with the snake oil of the day and and we pledge our allegiance to it faster than you can say "standardized testing." We seem to constantly try a new data gathering system without landing on it for a while in order to develop enough data to disaggregate it over time. I'm in favor of trophies. It works for me.

We are constantly saying that we need to study the data and plan curriculum around the data. They give us a CORE set of standards and objectives from which we are supposed to teach the masses and the masses are human beings. Not machines. Case in point: Today during the state standardized SAGE test I had two kids slide into whopping panic attacks right in front of me. I felt so bad. They didn't type a single word and will probably FAIL miserably. Where is the disclaimer where I get to write "don't dock my pay for that score - the kid had a panic attack and had to be taken out." There were two sluffers that got put in detention and will have to take the test later (which will take them out of class again). Then there were three kids that finished in about 20 minutes...the entire test. They were no Doogy Housers. They just "didn't understand the question."

There was only one question.

They just didn't want to write the essay. I can't fight that. I gave it a go and I don't like to fail anything - but I did... miserably. You can lead a horse to water....

I believe we Utah teachers have endured our 49th Place trophies (for decades) because we are a conscientious culture in general. We are hard workers. The symbols of the state is, after all, the worker bee. We are, naturally, a people that rolls our sleeves up and perseveres. Most of us come from a line of people that walked across the United States to get here. We have a reputation to uphold. Why then, I wonder, in a state where the majority of its people believe that education is the only thing you will take with you in the next life, don't they roll up their sleeves and figure out how to get more money to its teachers and their classrooms?

I also think it comes from that old "teaching is a calling" cliche and how dare we say no to a calling, right? I knew I was going to be a teacher when I was old enough to set up "school" in my mom's basement. I think I was about 7. I have always been addicted to "turning the light on" in a kid. So, as any self-respecting addict does, they find any way they can to feed their addiction, even if the shoe is only a size 7...you just keep cramming your foot into it again, and again, and again...until your toes bleed. But you don't care because this is your "calling."

One more excuse: I complained about a job once to a charter board of directors. I was told to shut up and "be grateful you have a job. You chose this profession, so shut up and live with it." First of all, I work in Utah. There will always be children in Utah. I'm a certified teacher with 24 years of experience building schools. I will always be willing to work for the kids because I like kids and truly its the only thing I know how to do well. Secondly - I chose to teach, but I can also choose to fight for change when I think things are unfair. I am an American and we are allowed to fight for equity in these United States.

My first year teaching in Utah, my take home pay was just over $900 a month. My sister and I shared a tiny apartment in North Salt Lake next to an oil refinery. It was the high life, let me tell you. I taught debate at Davis High for two years and spent nearly every weekend of the year schlepping angry cats to debate tournaments and then crying every night when I had to make 6 different lesson plans before I could sleep. O! (Ecphonesis) Those were such bad years but I didn't quit; I took up the Spring play, the student council and everything else I could get my hands on to be able to support myself.

Its been 23 years since those lean, back-breaking days in North Salt Lake. I've gone from school to school looking for a bigger shoe. Since then, the State of Utah has allowed groups of disgruntled people to try building shoes on their own. Millions of dollars each year is given out to parent groups, like Salt Lake School for the Performing Arts and business groups like Tuacahn, to think outside of the box and educate kids outside the traditional paradigms of the district schools. The problem is, when you give millions of tax-payer dollars to a group of non-educators, it works only part of the time. We drive by an abandoned charter school each morning on our way to school and I am reminded of how hard it is to attract (and keep) students to a "school of choice."

I've now done 14 years in the traditional districts and 10 years in charter schools and you know what? It's all the same gig. Especially in the arts. The kids that want to take your classes, will, and you can create a little family of artists no matter where you go. That's been an eye-opener for Andy, who is spending his first year at a traditional school and loving it. He thought the fantastic kids would go away and guess what? There are fantastic kids everywhere!

We used to tout at our charters that the classes were small, but that went away. We have smaller classes here. We used to say that all the teachers had masters degrees and were "professionals in their field," but that was a stretch. We all did community gigs and taught classes outside of our charter school jobs, because we had to. Contrary to popular belief, charter school teachers and administrators are the lowest paid in the state. Granted, many of them teach at much smaller schools, but they still lack the support of the "people at the district." They have no district. They ARE their district, which makes the charter school business back-breaking as well. Most people in traditional schools these days carry Masters Degrees because that is an excellent way to earn more money. Most charter schools do not have a career ladder pay schedule and you aren't rewarded with a yearly pay raise if you stay at that school longer. This is definitely a bonus in the traditional districts. So when asked what the difference is between charter and traditional, I always say: Not much. We are all doing everything we can with what we've got. Charter schools have to spend a great deal of money on marketing and traditional school don't. That's really about it.

It isn't all bad news though.

Having spent the last ten years in charter schools, I have now gone back to teach at an amazing traditional district school that is constantly thinking "outside the shoe."  We have a "5 X 5" schedule, which means that the kids go to five classes on "A" day and 5 different classes on "B" day. The classes are about an hour and 15 minutes long. This allows the kids to take more electives which I think is great because they find out what they love to do and most often that turns into career choices and a college path. It also allows general education classes to be smaller. My classes average about 20 kids. And this is NOT a charter school, folks. The attendance policy is unique and makes kids come to school. The technology is VAST and accessible. I would say this is a big difference between charters and traditional. I've never seen so many resources for students and teachers alike. Andy has a giant 1100-seat theatre at his disposal, a black box, a classroom complete with an I-pad for each student, real dressing rooms, storage rooms and a huge costume shop (well that's for me actually.) I feel like Andy and I are reaping all the benefits of a big traditional district with charter school-sized classes.

A.T. L.A.S.T. Somebody thought outside the shoe.

My kids are finishing up their test. They were asked to read a long passage of information, annotate it, then write a three to five paragraph essay about what they read. Times have changed since the bubble sheets and #2 pencils were sharpened 30 years ago...but worry not! The multiple choice part of the test in coming up in April. They will just take it on an I-pad and it will float away to some cloud to be corrected, and then I will study the results and see where I failed. We have to prove that we're worth getting some bigger shoes I guess.

Octo-Mom: Fake Mom

Dear Miss Shelton,
I've struggled with whether or not to write to you. (Oh no....apparently the struggle is over) My daughter auditioned for [the musical] and she has been ignored as usual. She is, once again, cast in the chorus of the play without having been giving a single line. (Oh boy... here we go) Not even one solo. [My daughter] has been in voice lessons for the past 7 years and she has been in the last three musicals you directed. She has dedicated her time and talent to you, but is getting very tired of standing in the back.

She was thrilled with her audition. (True. I was so proud of her!) She worked so hard on it. (She wanted it so badly, I could tell) She came home and told me that she was sure she "nailed it." After two years of dedicated work for you, she deserved a bigger role.

I'm truly disappointed in you (join the club, I started it myself). After seeing the posted cast list [my daughter] came home and locked herself in her room. I have never heard her cry so long or so hard. But since you don't have any children of your own, (ouch) you've probably never heard this kind of heart-breaking pain, (inflicted, no doubt by me) inflicted on her by someone she used to look up to (yep, there it is!).

I have talked to other parents about this (of course you have.) We will be pulling our children out of the play. We have started a letter writing campaign against you because your behavior needs to be stopped once and for all. (Believe me, I wish I knew how to do ANYTHING else to make a living.) We will be encouraging the principal to find someone else to teach our drama classes (While you're at it, write a letter to the people that create musicals and ask them to start writing scripts with more women's roles in them).

This letter if a compilation of several letters, ideas and promises that have happened over the last twenty years of teaching high school drama kids. TRUE. If you are a drama teacher, reading this, you have laughed because you probably have received a few of those gems over the years yourself. They are so common amongst us, that they have their own stereotype, and that's why we laugh. Though I have never taken their content lightly. The truth is, you can never make everyone happy, especially when you are forced to choose, to judge, one student’s abilities over another.

As most of you know, Andy and I are changing schools right now. Like, RIGHT now. Are we moving because we received some hate mail? OH NO. The reasons don't include any hate mail at all. Complaint mail is just part of the job and gives you a thick, bouncy skin eventually. Part of being in any job requires you to take criticism. We love our clientele at our current school. We stayed seven years because of them. The first few years were a trial because every teacher has to earn the trust of those clients (and their parents). It takes time. And there was a lot of creative mail in the beginning.

Packing my office, I found the famous file.

It's a morbid file full of letters and notes from parents and students explaining their frustrations with me. There are also vehement emails, a picture of Jabba The Hut (Star Wars character I think) saying "this is what I think about you, Miss Shelton. Watch your back." TRUE! It is an 8 X 10 glossy that someone slipped under my office door. Horrific. One of the notes says "I can't believe my child is failing a mickey-mouse class like drama." One says "the casting of plays is emotionally abusive." And still there is my favorite, "you don't know how hard it is to be the parent of a drama student." True that. I'm not a parent in the literal sense of the word.

I hear you. You're wondering why I keep it. Why I didn't just toss that negativity out when I got it. A whole file for crying out loud!

It reminds me how seriously people take this drama thing. Believe it or not, it adds gravity to what I do. It helps me take it seriously. How truly life-changing it is to be in a play!! These notes tell me that. It keeps me grounded.

Opposites in all things right? WOOT! I also keep the file(s) of thank you notes full of love and admiration. Those files are HUGE! Those files are why we needed the biggest Uhaul!! When I am feeling picked on, when it's three in the morning and I just can't sew one more costume or paint one more prop...I get into that file for just a minute, and it heals me in an instant. Gives me a second wind.

So positive or not, I am able to take a deep breath and go back to work because I know what I do matters. I have E.V.I.D.E.N.C.E.

One card, written in 1996 (is always at the front of the file) and has been read so many times that its in two pieces now. It simply says (in an eighth graders handwriting) "YOU ARE THE MOTHER I'VE NEVER HAD." And it's from a kid that spent many hours "standing at the back," but she didn't care. She never knew her mom. Her dad was awesome, but she went home to an empty house after school. The solution to the loneliness, was KNGH, she was the kid that never went home. The theatre (and I am part of that word) was her safe place. She told me so, and I took that very seriously.

I am sitting in a dorm room right now at the university of Nebraska, Lincoln. The home of the Huskers. This is only the second year we've come with kids. Last year, we brought 3, this year 25. We have traveled with groups of 70+ to Cedar City, Logan, Disneyland with about 50, New York, and we did take a wee trip to the Fringe Festival in Scotland with about 40 once. I love these trips because I get to watch the kids experience something for the first time. It's like crack cocaine to me (I hear. I don't really know.....;-)

There are over 3000 students here on the UNL campus right now, granted they are nerdy drama kids, but the ratio of kids to adults is probably about 15 to 1. 15 energetic, drama kings and queens to 1 exhausted teacher. If they wanted to, they could stage a pretty successful coup. Think of their list of demands: "More musicals, bigger roles, private meetings with Stephen Sondheim and autographed copies of Pippin." Who am I kidding? They would much rather stage an Andrew Lloyd Weber sing-a-long. This is a very peaceful group of people. JFK said the arts civilize a culture. It's so true. These are pleasant people to be around.

Today at this "National Thespian Festival," the kids that auditioned for scholarships earlier in the week got "called back." This means that certain colleges want to see you again, talk to you, get to know you before they send you admittance letters and scholarships. It's the next step on the road to university life. Our kids got called back all over the nation but one student's name appeared on nearly every college posting. Andy called him and said "Do you want Jan or I to go with you just to take notes, or help you keep track?" And this kid said "NO. I don't want my parents in there with me!" (Duh!)

I had such conflicted emotions right then. I wanted to tell him "Listen Mister! I'm going with you anyway, because I know you won't take enough notes (if any)," and I also felt the pinch of the apron strings being cut off - by someone that feels like my child. I've felt it before, but this time it was very clear because this is the first time we've had children with such big decisions to make so early. Finally, my heart was singing because he had essentially called me MOM! Which I crave, you know. So because of that, I turned back and let him go on his own. (I'll grill him at dinner)

I have my niece Katie here with me. She's a Senior costume technician at Lehi High. I saw her talking to a college recruiter from one of the best theatre schools in the nation. Don't worry, I didn't interrupt. (Man, I fought it!) I want her to have that experience but then...she would have to live in Cincinnati. I want her to go to the local community college, but she needs the expertise and connections that can be offered to her there. I almost started crying as I watched her.

So my MOM buttons are all being pushed this week. It's a great and terrible feeling. It's akin to that feeling I had when the doctors told me that they could keep Noah on those machine for an indeterminate time but he would not grow like normal kids do. I had to decide to "cut the apron strings" and let him move on. I truly hate that feeling.

This blog has been such a good outlet for me to talk about the conundrum I go through on a daily basis - the yoyo effect of wanting so badly to be a mom and just being someone's mentor. Blogging takes time. So in an effort to increase its financial effectiveness...(because now I'm dependent on it for my sanity) we added some advertising. But the money is sort of ridiculous, averaging about a nickel an hour. But it's a nickel I didn't have yesterday.

So I have been reading other blogs, analyzing their layouts, their funky buttons, their content. I read in the Wall Street Journal (oh, heavens no, we don't subscribe) an article about a woman that was obsessed with "Mormon Mommy blogs." I googled "top mommy blogs" to see what she was so addicted to.

Some of them get 100,000 readers a week! There were several mommy blogs that actually RATED other blogs. Wow. There were other blogs that gave you the opportunity to upload your blog and have people VOTE on it. Scary. I'm not into this whole blog thing for the notoriety. I just want to find out how some women are paying their mortgages by talking about what they do in everyday life. It's a kind of wacky phenomenon, don't you think?

I had all but decided to post my blog link on the "Top Mommy Blogs" site, when I read the rules. The very first one was, "YOU MUST BE A MOM TO POST YOUR SITE HERE." Shit. Now I have to think about it. It really stopped me...for a few days it stopped me cold. I contemplated uploading it anyway, because I need the exposure, and I really feel like I am a "type, a kind, a special category" of a mom. But looking through their list, I didn't fit into any of their special categories. The conflict raged inside of me. Would they create a new category for me, or just shoot it back and say "You don't meet our qualifications." Could I handle that truth? Not this week. I know they can have their own rules. I can find other places to fit in, other judges of my qualifications. But it set me back.

In a way, the life I have is enviable because I get to celebrate, to some degree, with kids as they bound through their accomplishments, but at the end of the day I send them home to their "real" moms. Moms that get to pay for their college education, their doctor's appointments, chicken pox and car wrecks. I'm so humbled and awed by the kids as they get accepted to Tisch, CCM or Boston, but then I quickly add up that tuition, housing, books...and sometimes it makes me feel better.

Last semester I had 70 college students, 35 high school kids and countless after school kids in shows. Dealing with this many kids also makes me just a little grateful I don't have to teach all day, then come home and deal with my own children. So that's good too.

It's just... well...days like today...when they come running toward me with their arms open screaming "I got accepted to CCM!" that I want to be that kids real mom. I want to be there when the combined Jandy genes comes out of his audition and says "I'm going to the Boston Conservatory, mom." And I would think in my mind...where else?

Not that I'm jealous of that kids real mom, I know and LOVE the real moms of my fake kids, one of them is my own sister! They have all been so great to share with me. I'm just so tired of feeling like a fake mom.

But it's God's plan for me. I've never questioned that. I'll just keep complaining about it on my little blog if you don't mind. It’s so much cheaper than a therapist.

And I will continue to sit on the edge of motherhood when they come to me with their major life questions - their emotional, educational, financial, spiritual and sexual conundrums. Sometimes I actually know about this stuff before their parents do, though in those sacred moments, and there have been so many...the first thing out of my mouth is always the same..."have you discussed this with your parents?"

The Tradition of the Unexpected

My first blog... what will I say that will be of any worth to anyone but myself...maybe nothing. That's okay I hear. Someone told me to "blog, it's all the rage." I've got some knives in my back, some patterns to unravel...maybe this will be a small start before I fully commit myself to a professional therapist. Hahaha...do I laugh at myself in a blog? I hope so.

My dad built us a playhouse once, out in one end of a shed behind our house. That cinder block shed was musty and smelled of rotting paint cans and lawnmower blades. The playhouse had a little dutch door that actually locked. The door was perfect for playing "restaurant" and the lock was for my brother. I imagine that the entire space was only about 10 feet by 10 feet, but at the time, it seemed so big. It had two little beds, a table, two chairs and an Easy-bake oven. It had a little bookshelf and a nearby rocking chair. My mom made hung wallpaper and made matching curtains and bedspreads for it. My sister and I spent hours and days playing "house." In addition to feeding, changing and burping our dolls non-stop, we would make cakes, can fruit (rocks) in mason jars and sweep incessantly. I remember, with an embarrassing smile, that we would also dialogue all day long to imaginary husbands named "Donny and Jimmy" (Osmond). We mimicked the life of our mom. We knew, without question, that we would be doing all those things "for real" someday.

My mom raised 7 kids. It's what you do around these parts. I was first. When I was young I tended to look at my endless stream of brothers and sisters as taking me further and further away from my parents. Would I change that now? Never. But as a result, there wasn't a lot of one on one time I got to have with my mom that I remember. But I hung on to the things I had seen my mother do. Actions. Example. I knew how much she was revered by my dad and by everyone that knew her and I figured, if I stayed on that track...I could be as perfect as she was.

I'm not sure if she ever regretted the fact that she didn't finish college, but I know that she considered bringing seven children into the world a very serious contract with the world and HUGE in every way. It was because of her example, that I have always wanted to own my own family.

So you can imagine my surprise when I found myself to be 40 years old, I had followed the rules, I had learned to do everything. I was still going to church.... they told me.... everyone told me that if I stayed faithful, I would be given the chance to be a mother.... and at 40 I had not even procured a sperm donor.

Instead, I was raising other people kids. I have done this since 1990. I have no children of my own, but every night, instead of tucking my students in, I send them home on the bus. Other people get to make dinner for them. Other people get to listen to their to triumphs and trials. Other people get to say goodnight to them. I am still listening to them all day, teaching them how to work at something, be self-sufficient, take education seriously, but at 3:00 every day, they go home to their real parents.

So when do I get to do it for real?

That's what's on my mind. That's what I should write about. Maybe there are others that feel like me. But it's not exciting. It needs an inciting incident. Hmmmm... should come here, or soon. Pretty boring childhood. Perfect parents, warm and fuzzy grandparents, church every Sunday, garden for working, maple tree for climbing, playhouse for dreaming, books for reading... more books for reading... more books... ah there it is. Inciting incident is about to happen.

When I was 14, my mom and dad decided that I should probably lift my eyes from the Little House on the Prairie series and get some social skills. I wasn't a pretty girl. More "Laura" than "Mary" if you know what I mean and if you don't, that's okay, but if you do...don't you just love those books? I was thick through the middle and very creative from all the reading. So because of the "in-house" training I had received, taking Home Economics in high school seemed kind of redundant. My parents thought it would be better if I got involved in drama and debate. Both classes lifted me to a place I can't fully describe. It was as if God had used his master key and had opened a gate for me that lead down a path clearly marked "GO THIS WAY."

So I did.