September 2020

Hello, my friends. This week does feel like fall, and I love it. I’m trying to get outside every day because I feel like this will not last long, and then I will be watching the rain from my window as my dogs beg to get outside. 

Life is back in full force ramp-up mode, do you feel it? As we have more places to be and more things that pop up to be addressed and handled, I think we are further from that quiet mental space and clarity that we all enjoyed not so long ago.  Life is always a trade-off, isn’t it?

This week I have been quite “yelley.” That is both a technical and accurate term. It was a busier than usual week, and all my people didn’t do what I wanted in the way that I wanted. I didn’t have the patience to address this in my other ways, so I used me, in the words of a friend, “stern voice.” It was tough to be one of my people this week. It was also tough to be me. 

You see, we all have a bandwidth, a space that we can handle, a cup that is so large. Once the bandwidth is taken up, the cup has reached its limit, or the noise-o-meter has hit danger, people should leave me alone unless they meet one of the following criteria a) you have a heartfelt gift, like delicious coffee, a pastry, or some gummy bears b) you have completed a chore that I usually do, and you can’t wait to share the news that I have one less thing to do (for example, you did my laundry for me, by all means, come on up and snuggle in) or c) you have something to show me that is both smart, appropriate and funny and will make me laugh out loud. If you DO not meet these criteria, you should cast your eyes down and tread silently like in handmaid’s tale, and for goodness sake, don’t show me a Tiktok that is going to make me worry about your generation for the next 5 hours because I can’t take it. (BTW my daughter just explained to me what catfishing is and used an example that if I was on tinder, I might need to watch out for that, and I am nodding my head on the outside and ready to DIE on the inside. Why does my child know what TINDER is?)

Here is the deal, we all have a big ‘ol to-do list right now. On top of the to-do list is the overall low (or high level) anxiety that our country is going to hell in a handbasket. I think almost all people, whether you’re are left, right, white, black, gay, straight, Christian, non-Christian, 25 or 85,   you are worried, with nowhere to put the worry. Since everyone and their dog’s dog is claiming authority over absolutely everything we should think, feel, and do, it seems to have made a challenging situation worse. We are watching a fire that keeps flaring up and waiting for the explosion. Who misses the days of planting gardens and bike rides? 

Part of the beat down isn’t the to-do list; the beat down is the silent list. We don’t even know the silent list is happening, its unconscious and creeps in at random times like 6 am when we wake up and think, oh I never responded to that email, I forgot to call my father, are we out of dog food?. They don’t even make the to-do list because they are things that only take about 2-10 minutes each. Except that there are about 50 of these to do a day. So that 2-10 minutes x the 50 things becomes hours of your day. Beyond that, it occupies space in your being. These things ping pong around in your head because they know they must be done.

These items are like little silent minions that start piling up on our shoulders. They are SO irrelevant most of the time. We can easily bat at them and wrap them up while at the same time cooking dinner, helping someone with homework, and thinking about what day it is.  Maybe we even like them because they make us feel worthy and busy and like we can’t be done without.  Did you know that you can carry about ¼ of your body weight on your shoulders? My friend google told me that the average person can hold 40 lbs. I mean, 40 lbs is a lot of little minions and a LOT of silent to do’s. 

SO that is what we do, we answer the emails, move the laundry from washer to dryer, pick up the dry cleaning, grab the posterboard needed for school. We stop and grab a coffee to replace what ran out at the office, we clean up the syrup spill in the pantry ( syrup containers are unreliable!!), we check the grades, we run by and drop off that birthday gift or container that we’ve had for three months. We read the post our friend sent, so we know what the heck is going on; then we check out twitter, so we know what the heck everyone is so mad about.  We manage the even more silent to do’s that pop up in a moment’s notice, the ceiling leak that came out of nowhere, the email from the teacher/boss/friend that requires immediate and dedicated attention, the child/parent that is sick.

And these are the things that DON’T make the to-do list. There is no, go to the grocery store, attend the meeting, go work out, doctor appt, because those things MAKE it in the planner/calendar. These all fall in the OTHER category. 

Where this puts us is a maxed-out bandwidth place. We have room for no more. But the to do’s keep on coming. They don’t know or care that we have reached our maximum capacity. They are like a toddler, needy, and unaware. 

So what do we do? What we do with this feeling is to figure out what is stealing from us that we can change. This will be different for each of us. It may be admitting that our “silent list” needs to be shared with our people. It may mean making a list and re-distributing the items on it. This could mean some laundry or dishes are not done as well because they are not done by us. This means telling people what we need and holding them to it. Not an easy task my friends. 

It may mean some changes in where our downtime goes. Perhaps we should go back to keeping a book in our car, so we don’t have to look at our phone when we carpool wait. Maybe if we call a friend, we need to contact the friend that makes us feel better about life and not the one that reminds of the abysmal space we may be in or wants to talk polotics. It may mean we need to exercise more or less, get outside or go to bed. We need to clear some space so we know where our downtime should best be spent for us to recharge, not for us to get more done. For most of us, this should involve some form of “play” to bring us back to that feeling that we are not just here to check off our to-do lists. We are in fact, meant to enjoy some of this ride.  

No matter what, most of us probably need a change in our social media “status.” The magnetism of this is in full force, my friends.  Our desire to read, follow, post, re-post, and comment is full-on. And let’s be honest, if we are posting political or charged stuff, expect a strong response either by blocking, comments, or judgment. You get to 100% do what you need to do, but the arrogant declaration that the whole world should nod and go along is quite silly. We are supposed to wrestle over things, with ourselves and others; it is what we are meant to do. Social media provides a perfect environment for the knock-out, so just know that going in. 

If you are, like me, in a space where you get inflamed when you are reading some of this lately, this may require a change. We convinced ourselves that the good outweighs the bad when it comes to the facebook or insta; I’m not sure right now it does for many of us. Instead, it forces our hand to feel things like resentment, FOMO, judgment, anger, and sadness. I’m wondering if I would be better off with a Facebook full of STRANGERS instead of different layers of friends.

And finally, we must let some stuff go right now. We need the Thursday night kraft mac and cheese cups night on the paper plates, yogurt tubes and bottled water and plastic forks, so we have no dishes.  Yes, we will miss some things on email, like ordering the t-shirt or the zoom call, but in the grand scheme, no one needs another t-shirt and they will record the zoom call. 

When I am short and anxious, so go my people. It’s time to clear it out and think about how we can run our best selves right now. I’m starting with Sunday night pizza delivery (despite the fact that I had a menu all picked out), watching a little dancing with the stars because I hear it’s worth watching and I’ve got to see this catfishing dude, and reading my book (Mexican Gothic, a thriller!!)  

Be well my friends!

Advice From A Friend: Where can you find more space

Fall is in the air; it’s almost sweatshirt weather unless you are one of my kids, in which you think every day of every season is sweatshirt weather. That is why we own 1,000 sweatshirts, and they wear the same five. This is a ridiculous struggle.  I love when temperatures lower, and leaves start to change, and the air feels kind of crispy. Fall weather is my favorite; I think we all deserve an extra-long and rainless fall with free pumpkin spice lattes. I’m not sure who I am negotiating with, but I’d like to put it out there. 

I remembered a funny story about one of my kids. He was in intermediate school at the time. He had a math teacher, whom he didn’t like, and frankly, she didn’t like him either. I don’t mean that in a, she was a lousy teacher kind of way, she wasn’t. I don’t expect that every teacher we have will be perfect and ideal; that is naïve and an unrealistic expectation. I mean it in a real way,  there are some people easier for us to mesh with, some personalities we enjoy more, some kids easier to parent, some neighbors more comfortable to stand and chat with, some co-workers we prefer, some members of our family we’d rather talk to. Let’s not pretend that the same doesn’t happen in a classroom, we are all human, and it does.  

Here they are, a child and a teacher who don’t get each other but have a year ahead of them. He survives the year, never loving her more or less, complaining just enough to irritate me. My guess is she felt the same. At the end of the year, because this was when I was younger and frankly did more things like this, I made him write thank you notes to all his teachers. I love teachers, and I think they have a super hard job and rarely receive the credit they deserve. So, he writes his 3-sentence minimum thank you note (with precisely three sentences), and we move on. In typical motherly fashion, I read the notes to ensure that he hasn’t taken this opportunity to be ridiculous or condescending. Here is the basic letter:

Dear Ms. ____________,

 I know we didn’t like each other very much, but I learned more math this year than I ever have. So I guess we have that. 

Thank you.  

Sometimes in life, we just have to wait for it, and something magical and unexpected happens, like perspective.

My favorite thing I read this weekend is about the friendship of Ruth Bader Ginsberg and Anthony Scalia. The odd couple, who had been friends since the 1980s, shared a love of Opera and deep respect for one another. Politically, they couldn’t have been more different.  Many people would say he was the court’s most conservative member, and she the most liberal. Case in point, it was Scalia who wrote the solo dissent to U.S. vs. Virginia, which ended women’s exclusion from the Virginia Military Institute. The SOLO dissent, AND they were friends. It was Ginsberg later that said that his eloquent dissenting opinions are what made her better.  Have you heard any of that lately? That your neighbors, sisters, co-workers, dissenting opinions are what make you better? Nope, that arena is CRICKETS, my friends. 

What is even more surprising is that they chose to allow their friendship to be public. They attended the Opera; they spent New Year’s Eve together with their families. They didn’t pretend they weren’t friends. It wasn’t some kind of cover-up. What a beautiful friendship that must have been for both of them. I’d like more of this; how do we get there? 

Ruth Bader Ginsberg is like a character out of a movie. For those who agree with her, she is revered, the notorious RGB.  For those who disagreed, well, the opposite of that. After her passing, the weird immediate politicization (both sides) is not surprising but so disheartening.  We can do better. I’d like us to do better. 

Friendship matters and I mean real friendship, not the social media kind. Friendship can remind us who we were, who we are, and who we are becoming. We need friends that help us with all those things. We need friends who are living very similar lives and friends who couldn’t be more different. We don’t need a lot of friends, but we D.O. need variety in our friends.

This has become challenging, the company we keep matters. We are not above the influence of our peers (or T.V. commercials because I can’t watch a coke commercial without imagining how refreshing that might be, and I don’t even like coke)! It’s fun to think that our KIDS are super influenced by peers, which is why we work so hard at ensuring they are in good friendships, but we are not. It’s simply not true; we are all influenced by the people we are surrounded by in one way or another. Our brain connects dots for us to help us find what it THINKS we need. Influence is influence, and we are all susceptible (just ask cable T.V. news, which is loving our hatred of each other so much right now). 

We like what we know. We will always want what we know. Automatic entry into the club feels good because we don’t have to apply, no chance for rejection. When we are single, we hang out with single. When we get married, we find newlyweds. When we have a child, we have to find others that have children. When we get a divorce, we make friends with fellow divorcees. It happens if we get cancer, if we become a widow, if we are a workaholic, if we hate our job. It allows us to complain without feeling guilty; it enables us common enemies and plenty to talk about.  It is unconscious but part of our routine. We need support and advice, and who better to help us in our current life plight but people doing life like we are – same family structure, the same faith, same socioeconomic group, it just makes things easier. 

 But does it make us better? Will we experience the same ease in a mixed crowd? Will all the fun go away if I want to complain about my children and you don’t have any. What if I hate my job and you love yours, then I just end up feeling guilty. OR maybe, it makes me realize what changes I need in my career.  What will happen if we discuss current events and are on opposite ends of that? Will it ruin our night off or make me reflectively re-consider? 

The human beings that we are, we like inclusion, we appreciate when life is easy. I once went to a party; it was full of beautiful people. ALL the people were beautiful. I kept looking around for the average looking person who wasn’t fit with fantastic hair.   I thought, how does this happen? I think I will not stay at this party.  Homogony makes me nervous like I am missing something or doing something wrong. I don’t mean it in that; I like drama kind of way. I don’t; I don’t like drama unless it’s a play, or in a movie, where it is supposed to be. I mean it in a, what am I missing if all the people around me are slightly different versions of me. I think too much of the same in friendship, wine, and chocolate is a bad idea. 

Here is what I know. When I call my friends for support/advice, sometimes, I don’t want advice. I just want to hear that I am right. My kids have zeros in their classes for work not turned in. I yelled at them and took their phones away. Did I do the right thing?  I only want to hear in that case; you did the right thing. I need solidarity in that I am not a terrible and mean mother. It’s not the time for your love and logic suggestion. You can give me that in a few days. 

Other times I want advice. I am struggling and not sure why; what should I do? I need ideas of what to do. If all my advice comes from small nuanced versions of the same person, I may not get the best advice. I may get the advice I’ve been giving myself, which is not working, or I would have therapied myself.  My kids are STILL getting zeros even with my yelling and taking away. I need NEW ideas. I need advice from someone who DOESN’T think like me. Our linear existence is meant to be interrupted and challenged by differences. It keeps us stretchy and thoughtful and aware that we are not always right, and any one group of people doesn’t always get it right. 

Friendship and social interaction are essential; if we don’t know that after all the changes since COVID-19, well, then we are doomed. The studies show that people with more authentic friendships live longer, are healthier, and are happier. Friends are protective. 

Casting a wider net in friendship is challenging but beautiful. I think we lost this somewhere. I think we had it. I know my parents had it. Even congress had it. There was a civility in American politics when Ronald Reagan could invite the Democratic House speaker to the White House for a drink and a conversation. We have even witnessed it right before our eyes, BFF’s Martha Stewart and Snoop Dog (I mean, their Titanic promo is so weird and uncomfortable that you just can’t stop watching it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hGCL_5DMVKc and our most recent example RGB and Scalia.  

I’m not sure what happened. Did we get tired? Did we get scared? Were we so happy or sad with the 2016 election that it shifted our relationships? Did we start to believe that the main criteria of friendship were “like.” Lookalike, act alike, worship alike, think alike, or we will be doomed? Doomed to what, doomed to be challenged, and maybe change our mind? Doomed to say we didn’t have it, right? Doomed to say that perhaps our perspective isn’t suitable for everyone? When did this become such a bad thing?  

I think I am mourning this in the wake of the passing of Ruth Bader Ginsberg. I think it suddenly became more evident that perhaps we are missing out. A lot said and written about friendship, why it works, why it doesn’t, what we should expect from it. I like to tell my kids that one of our main jobs in life is to figure out who is good for us and who we are good for. The process is usually complicated in live-action and simple in retrospect.  This means we need to have different kinds of friends, friends of different colors and backgrounds, and spiritual beliefs and ages and geographies. We need to make sure when we have a party, it isn’t full of the same person in different forms. We need to have friends who would respond just like us and friends who would respond quite the opposite. We need friends who we disagree with because it reminds us that we can love and respect people that don’t think the same. Sometimes what we need to hear is NOT what we think we need to hear. It teaches us tolerance, which isn’t a negative.  It teaches us that everyone has their own lens, also not harmful.  It teaches us how to deal with a political system that is continuously telling us there is one right way, one right candidate, and one right side.

I am tired of this dialogue, it’s gone on a long time, and I think it is exhausting us. If the first thing I know about you is if you are red or blue, choice or life,  vax or anti, and I decide that is enough for me not to give you the time of day, then shame on me. If you want to see better from your government, then start with yourself. 

If Ruth Bader Ginsberg can admit that Scalia’s infuriating dissent made her love him more because it challenged her to think harder and be better; indeed, we have no excuse. “As annoyed as you might be about his zinging dissent, he’s so utterly charming, so amusing, so sometimes outrageous, you can’t help but say, ‘I’m glad that he’s my friend.” RBG. 

Rest in Peace, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, may we all find our way to exceptional contribution and beautiful friendship. 

Advice from A Friend: Making friends with someone that is not like you will add challenge and dimension to your life

Hi friends…..Raise your hand if you’re tired (everyone should be raising their hand right now!!). Wow, remember all those things that we missed when we were quarantining? Well, they are back, some in zoom form, but I officially feel like we are back in activity overload. I keep starting this column later and later each week. It’s Sunday and well, crunch time. 

This week was the anniversary of 09/11. This always feels like one of the most collective emotional days of the year. It is incredible how we all remember where we were, what we thought initially, how it unfolded, and how sad we all were. It was paralyzing. We were collectively sad and proud of America for her ability to offer assistance and love to those who needed it. I feel like it was the last time we were all together holding hands. Our former President George W Bush said it well, “Today, our nation saw evil — the very worst of human nature — and we responded with the best of America. With the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring for strangers and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any way they could.” Life requires great suffering for profound perspective and acts of unimaginable acts of love.

I have many memories of that day and the subsequent days. I was stuck in Denver at the time and trying to figure out how to get home and back to work. A lot of what I remember is how people just showed up. I mean across the whole country from the moments after the towers fell, people showed up. Rescue workers charged bravely, knowing they may not survive. Healthcare workers dug in; others offered their supplies and assistance to help. Americans gathered; life seemed to stop while we held our breath waiting.  People didn’t worry about how they showed up; if it was by physical presence, money, letters, care packages, or prayers, they just simply showed up. 

It reminds me of a story that happened to me many years ago. I knew someone that was diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn’t know her very well. If we were talking tiers of people, I would say I knew her about a 4. However, our lives were intercepted at this critical time for her, where she was ill and overwhelmed. I helped where I could, never as much as I wanted and always after all the other of life’s responsibilities. She improved, and our lives moved apart again. She got sick again, and our lives moved back together. I always visualize this like one of those DNA double helix where you come together and cross and then move apart again. The second time she was ill,  it felt pretty similar to the time before. She was sick, but still working and seeking treatment. 

Then she went to the hospital. When I visited her there, she started telling me about some last wishes she had. I remember thinking, why are you telling me this? Am I your person? Am I the person who you are putting in charge of this? Because I shouldn’t be your person.  I am busy and unreliable right now; I can’t be your person. Your person should be someone who comes to visit every day, talks to all your doctors, and knows your middle name- that should be your person. I am not worthy of that spot. 

I left feeling overwhelmed, unworthy, and unsure as to what I should do. I mean, she had asked me and how do you say no to that. I called a friend of mine on the way home crying and said, “What do I do? I don’t know what I should do? I don’t even know her family.” She was patient and gentle, and she said- “You just show up, Lori, whatever way that is, she picked you because she knew you would show up in the way she needed.” 

I felt better; I realized that I was making this about something it wasn’t. I mean, why was I crying? I was perfectly healthy.  I was making it about me. I was trying to do this thing perfectly when really, that wasn’t what help looked like for her. She was trusting me to know that.

A few days later, I returned to the hospital; I took my daughter because that was the way that had to happen. I was fairly convinced that she was doing better and that she would be out of the hospital soon. I asked her if she wanted to speak to a minister or priest. At the time, I wasn’t sure why I did that, but since she had never mentioned a faith life, I wanted to be sure. We had an open discussion about her life that was void of faith or a relationship with Christ. She gave up on religion when her mother died when she was young.  We had another discussion on if she was interested in hearing more about that. I felt pretty strange about having that discussion at that time. (This is where it should be clear to you that I am not an evangelical protestant, my friends that are would have absolutely nailed this moment).  First, I was convinced that her 40 something body was improving, and second, I felt like this discussion should happen with someone qualified, you know, someone that went to school to prepare themselves for moments like this. But she pressed on, and so I showed up. I told her why I love Jesus and how thankful I am that during times of a great job or great trouble, my faith life feels like a warm protective blanket. I told her about my parents, who raised me to believe that there are not levels of Christians, and we don’t earn more points by being this kind of Christian vs. that kind and that my Catholic faith was where I met so many amazing people who lived their life for others. I told her that she was loved and that I believed upon her death, she would be welcomed with open arms in heaven. That is how I showed up. 

We got the comic relief we needed from my daughter, who kept jumping around, touching her wig and trying to hop up on the bed. She died about 24 hours later. She had a heart attack, her heart was full, her spirit was ready, and her body was tired. 

I still sometimes imagine all the other things we could have done, or I could have said if we had more time to know each other.  I took her to a museum one time, and that was the first and only time she had ever done that. It was like watching a child go to Disneyland; she wasn’t sure where to look first. She was undereducated, had minimal family support, and was poorly paid. She continued to work during her cancer treatment because she needed the benefits and money.  Her mother died of breast cancer when she was a teenager, and she had never had a mammogram. Why did no one tell her to have a mammogram?  She did not ask for any of that; it is where her life course took her. These are the things in life I just HATE!

I care about people a lot. My little social justice heart breaks easily for the marginalized, the outcasted, and for those that aren’t given the same chances that my children and I have. I recognize this is heavily my upbringing, my disposition, and my feeling that I have more than I deserve. 

I do know this, I have seen the way people show up, and it is beautiful. I have seen all the fantastic ways that when we are called, whether it be by big national tragedies like natural disasters, racial injustices, support for our military, firefighters, and police, or by events in our families or communities where someone has an ask, and we answer. I think we are pretty good at showing up. 

Here is what showing up has to look like for me right now because I am in no place to muster up the energy to be loud and in charge right now. Patience with this process of return to school, return to activities, and return to a faster pace of life. It looks like me NOT responding when I see something political and inflammatory. It looks like me not judging others by their social media rants or political signs. It looks like me trying to pretend like I’m happy that sports are on 24-7 again on my family room TV. It looks like we are back to easy dinners like tacos and burgers, buying those stupid frozen PBJ’s that I used to make fun of, and not even pretending like I’m making homemade bread. It looks like me knowing that in my volunteer capacities, I’m going to lower the bar and do the best I can and NOT sign up for anything else (I’ve put it in writing, so now it will be done). It looks like checking in with my people and asking them to check in with me. It means asking everyone to pull their weight so that we have balance in our household. It means not giving myself extra jobs just to remind myself how capable I am. It means embracing the extra 5 lbs, now is not the time. 

I hope you find what showing up looks like for you this week. I hope showing up includes lots of outside time and sleep.

Be well, my friends,

Advice From A Friend: Sometimes showing up, is just enough

It’s Labor Day weekend. It is a weekend where we would traditionally relax after starting school, kick back with an ice-cold beverage or glass of wine and look forward to all the magic of the upcoming fall, football,  volleyball, pumpkin spice latte’s, sweaters if have the good fortune of cool weather and the welcome change of the seasons. That is what makes it so hard when that isn’t happening the same or for some people, not at all. Fall is my favorite season, but maybe not this year; I’m not sure yet, I don’t want to give up on it. 

In regular times, when school starts, I lose my mind and go crazy from about a week before school to about two weeks in. I hate changes in routine, but I pretend like I don’t so that I can feel the full effect of acting like I love change. I hate not knowing how it is all going to work. I hate the chaos of my kids changing classes and needing different school supplies and not finding the lunchboxes that I stored in a brilliant place I can no longer find. This year is different (or in the words of my children, “extra”) because we started at home, and now we are beginning again in person. Plus, I feel no investment in getting this all perfectly right because I have no idea how it is going to go. I think overall; this has worked better for me. This is a good silver lining. 

Change is hard. New things are hard. We could say that one hundred times and need to say it one hundred more. Not having routines or changing them is hard. Having to develop new practices so we can’t just be on autopilot is hard. I feel like it is “buckle back in for the rollercoaster ride” again (and I don’t mean the pre-teen one my daughter is on, I mean the one we are all on).

One of my first memories of how change and school looks is when they changed the report card from a traditional grading scale (A, B, C, D, F) to a standard based grading scale (below standard, meets standard, above standard). This was early in my son’s elementary career. The school said they were having a meeting to talk about the new grading scale, and I was young and full of vigor.  I thought, YES, I should go to that meeting and wear something that says, I’m nice and approachable. I didn’t have a lot of friends in the school at the time, so I didn’t realize that what you were supposed to do was already have done your homework, have a firm opinion on the new and old grading system, and be ready for some tough conversation. I thought I was just going to an informative meeting where they told me about how my kid would be graded. It was my first introduction to the role of the informed school parent.

I have to tell you; I came home wondering if I was cut out for this. The issue was, I didn’t know anything about grading, I’m not an educator, I have no background in teaching children, and I don’t want that job (which makes my top ten of corona struggles). When I went to the meeting and realized that there were parents  going to the mattresses on this issue, I was pretty overwhelmed. I decided to go home and do some research. Two hours and two glasses of wine later, I abandoned that plan and decided that I was going to wait this one out. I wanted to talk to people about it, but I didn’t have trusted friends yet, and most of my friends didn’t have school age kids so they were no help. Doing nothing felt like a motherhood mistake and I didn’t want to ruin my kids entire education (which apparently could happen because these clearly informed parents told me so).  I decided to do the next best thing, send a well thought out email.  After I labored over my page-long email, which made me sound like an amazing, engaged,  and super savvy parent,  I decided that the principle of my school may not enjoy or have time for my page long email and I realized that I had no idea if this report card business was a good change or a bad one. Then I got tired and busy, so I did what often happens, absolutely nothing.  

Over the next few weeks, there was a lot of talk about that report card change. There were more meetings. There were rumblings, and I did nothing because I didn’t know what to do. And then, it just sort of went away. The conversation ceased and it was sort of like it never happened.

 When I had my parent-teacher conference later that year, and the teacher and I went over the report card, I said something to the effect of, “Wow, this is THE REPORT CARD, it certainly has a notorious reputation. What do you think about this report card? Do you prefer it?” She spoke with some trepidation the way we all do when we don’t want to offend someone that we have to work with. She said, “This transition has been hard for parents because it is not what we grew up with. We know A’s, B’s, C’s and D’s. But I think it is a better tool to evaluate elementary kids. I wish it wasn’t so long, but I much prefer it.” In other words, change is hard, we want old school math where we carry the 1, memorization of spelling words and not this sound it out weirdness, and red rover in gym class. We want those things because we know those things, not because those things are best.  LESSON LEARNED, I should have just asked some teachers. 

I learned my first of many lessons in parenting kids that go to school that day. This was going to be a journey, a messy, up and down rollercoaster journey that was going to bring out the very worst in me sometimes. Particularly with my oldest child, I was going to have to hit the pause button pretty frequently and check myself. I realized that, my discomfort and lack of knowledge shouldn’t make me come up with a solution myself. I should not work at becoming the expert in the room. I needed to gauge well what was important and needed to be addressed and what was beyond my scope.   

The truth is this, when I’m in situations, and I get that feeling like I’m being tricked, I don’t like it. What helps me more than anything is to pause and gather some information. I do not do this on social media because I find that an unreliable avenue.  Once my question is out there, it can take on a direction of its own that I never intended.  People can read pieces of information and get a mistaken idea of what someone is trying to say- it’s like a bad version of the telephone game. Instead, I try to go to the “teacher.” I try to go to a variety of them that may have different perspectives. I try to ask people beyond just my friends or people I typically agree with so that I can get a broad view of the issue before I decide my next step or even if there is a next step.

 This process helps me determine if I am having reservations with my pediatrician, internist, child’s teacher, co-worker, mechanic, principal, or church pastor/priest. Is the issue that we disagree or is it that they are genuinely NOT TRUSTWORTHY. Are they doing their best and making tough decisions that I just disagree with, or are they acting from a place I cannot identify with? Do I have the ability to be honest with them, and do I feel like they will return the favor? Will they tell me when something is beyond their scope? Are they more worried about making me feel better than telling me actually what I need to know? 

Welcome to the thick of it, the mess of it, the midst of it. We are here, and it feels like there are very few people we can trust. When this happens, our natural inclination is to get big and loud. We write the email, post the rant, demand the meeting. We are looking for allies here whether we want to admit it or not. Strangely, it is more uncomfortable to sit on it for a little while then to spring into action.  

Springing is doing, sitting is lonely.

I had to re-make sense of a few things this week. My kids are going back to school in person this week. I want my kids back in school, and I have wanted that since about mid-April when the shiny wore off, and I realized that my kids need structure. My homeschool techniques were wrecking my relationships with my kids (I’m a nagger in those circumstances, and that DOES not go over well unless you are a consistent nagger, and your family finds it endearing). My family has the privilege, and I do mean the privilege of good general health. We didn’t earn it; we just genetically ended up without conditions like Type I diabetes, cystic fibrosis, asthma or other compromising diseases that would make a return to school impossible. No one in my family is battling a condition like emphysema or cancer that would unimaginably overload the immune system. It has never been more evident to me how grateful I am that we don’t have this additional layer, which would give me a stress level I can’t imagine and narrow my choice to one with regards to return to school. For the friends and families that do, they don’t have the luxury of choosing school or no school.  I haven’t seen them fist-shaking or on social media rants; I have just noticed them going about their business, keeping their people healthy and safe. Their support request has been in asking us to wear masks and wash our hands along with prayers. This is truly admirable and what their help looks like.

 There is no question that part of this return to school decision for me is a (selfish?) grasp at normalcy. I have and do worry about my kid’s mental health and lack of socialization and structure. I want them to experience some version of normal, and school feels like a good place that might happen. Beyond my own family, I worry a lot about the economically disadvantaged and their ability to get technology resources for school and lunches. I worry about kids who are already behind and if this is just pushing them further down a rabbit hole that is difficult to recover from. I worry about single-parent families and families where both parents work and their ability to make all this happen.  It is a BOTH/AND moment.  I want BOTH kids to go back to school safely AND for it to be the right decision. 

I am worried most about teachers and staff right now. I am concerned in that same way that I worried about healthcare workers in the early days of Covid-19 when we were navigating without any road map at all, and healthcare workers were putting themselves at direct risk every day.  Our family’s choice of sending our kids to school requires that teachers and staff go to work every day.  I worry a lot if this is too big on an “ask” on my part and whether I’m fair. This propelled me to write a long email that I never sent, then a long pause and then finally to pull out my phone and start texting.  I asked former teachers of my kids and teacher friends what they thought I should do. Give me your thoughts I wrote. What is your best advice? Where are you with all of this?   Is this a selfish decision for me? Their responses were reasonably consistent. They wanted to return to the classroom for themselves and their kids, but they were nervous. They wanted to know what it was going to look like. They wanted to know action plans if things went south. They wanted to know that they would have the support they needed from administration and parents. 

Teachers and school staff need our support right now, not our criticism. There is no place for me in the cheap seats right now (the front row of the cheap seats is currently social media) looking down and telling them that they shouldn’t be concerned or that that should just do their job or that they need to do this in the way that makes sense to me. What they need from me is to say- hey, I appreciate what you are doing for my kids, and I am here to support you, please tell me what that looks like. It doesn’t mean I have to like or agree with the way it is being done. It means my kids are going to have to take a few things on the chin and deal. It means my son’s senior year is going to look and feel different than what we imagined.  And when I get super mad about something that doesn’t make sense (and believe me, I will), I need to take that to a friend and complain over coffee, or a pastry or some wine (or a salad but probably it is not going to be a salad). I need to take that to space where I can vent about it without igniting a whole bunch of other people, and then I need to get over myself. I need to tell my kids teachers that I appreciate them and that although chemistry is going to wreck our life all year, we are going to keep showing up and doing our best and hopefully that works out safely in person. 

I’m a show-er-upper (this is a very official word so take notice). People know this about me, and they like it when I am showing up for them or what they agree with. It is not as comfortable when we are on opposite sides. But I’m okay with that messy because I live my life in a state of thoughtful conflict. The midst of this is super messy.  It is pretty easy in these moments to determine who we need to show up for. This has become a weird gray area where we start to question, wait if I show up for teachers, does that mean I can still believe masks are not necessary. You can be BOTH/AND. Yes, you can actually show up for and support teachers and staff, make your kids wear masks during school times because it is required and then go home and make whatever choices you’d like. The key is, in this moment, the school has made an ask. That ask includes masks. Meet their ask because they are doing the best they can with the information they have. 

Wait, can I not send my kid to school because I am not comfortable and still support my school but  send my kids to sports because that is more comfortable for me. Yes, the answer to that is yes. You can still be supportive of your school and teachers, choose to go online AND determine that sports or an extra curricular is important or necessary for your family.  And there is nothing wrong with this either. In doing this, you can remind yourself to cast no stones and for those that cast them on you, to just laser sword them right out of your galaxy (my daughter just finished a Star Wars play, there was a lot of laser swording). There are all kinds of BOTH/AND scenerios here and the worst thing you can do is start telling yourself stories in your head about what others are saying or thinking about you. The best thing you can do is make the decision, do the best you can, support your district, staff and teachers in the way they need (which may mean just being quiet) and know that this journey is going to take more patience than we have. In the words of Aaron Burr, “talk less, smile more” , we will work through it. 

If you cannot do this, you should make another choice. Find your new plumber, doctor, clergyperson, district because you will be happier, it will be the better choice for you. Sometimes there is no fitting a square peg in a round hole and repeated attempts are just frustrating and exhausting. You will figure out what is best for your family, just spend some time with it.

This is our BOTH/AND moment, and we can do this. This doesn’t mean we are compromising our core values or integrity; it means we are showing up the way we can for who we need. 

Deep breaths, Hit the pause button, Be BOTH/AND

Advice From A Friend: Show up in your way, for who needs you most right now.