My Love Affair With Teaching.

I have come to learn in my life that during times like these, times of strife and conflict and tension; when you stand on the edge of something and realize that there is a very real possibility that things may not work out the way you envisioned that you begin to evaluate how badly you want that thing/place/job in the first place. 

You know those times:  you get into a bidding war on a house you fell in love with after no one else had wanted it forever.  You apply for a job which will require you to make a number of changes to your life (location/skills/lifestyle) and someone else could potentially get that job.  You are staring down the barrel of a breakup – the relationship is disintegrating fast and it wasn’t even your idea.

During these times you evaluate the value of that person/job/place and check in to see if, indeed, this is really what you want for yourself. 

In the face of current battles between teachers and the government, I have done just that.  I have evaluated the value of my role in this profession and have done some soul searching around whether or not I have the guts to stick it out or if I should just pack it in and find something else to do that is neither so stressful nor so undervalued. 

Reflection on this issue has brought up many memories for me – memories of my love affair with teaching.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to do two things when I grew up:  acting and teaching.

I would practice speeches in front of my mirror (any mirror, really) thanking the academy for giving me this most prestigious award (yes, I really did talk like that…have you met Dante?)  I would say words just to hear the sound of them and pretended that I was going to make brilliant speeches because my speaking voice was so amazing…yes, I was a humble child.

I used hair brushes for microphones and I would sing and make speeches and was determined that I was going to be an unstoppable force in the entertainment industry. I played dress up, I listened to and learned several dialects so that I could “pull voices” when ever I wanted to. 

I was six years old when I performed in my first play and I loved it.  I hated memorizing the lines but I loved the stage stuff.  I got laughs (not inappropriately…laughs in the right spots) and I received many accolades.  I felt pretty darn good about my little self.

Then, somewhere along the line, my dad picked up an old desk or something that was very like a desk and my sister began to play school in the basement of our house.  She got a chalk board from Santa that year so we had a chalk board, chalk, and a desk.   We had left over scribblers from the year before, we had some old readers that had found their way into our house.  We had big red pencils, pencil crayons, and the ever important red pen for the person who got to play the teacher. 

I always wanted to be the teacher.  I’m not sure if it was the power of the red pen which I found so seductive or the fact that I would get to stand before my “class” (which usually consisted of my sister, our life sized doll Lucy, a big pink dog named Cinnamon, and an assortment of ratty-tatty stuffed animals) and teach…that was almost like acting.  You had an audience and you got to say stuff in front of them.  You even got to use different voices while reading stories…at least if you were a really good teacher you did.  Not only that, you also got to determine which answers were right and which ones were wrong. And, you got to note all of that “rightness” and “wrongness” with the beautiful red pen.

In my class, all of the students were perfectly behaved, except my sister…I think that was fortuitous, really…she was a little shit disturber in school.  My sister would always act up and want to be sent to the office so she could get out of spelling tests – again, fortuitous.

In my class, all of the students were perfect.  Cinnamon’s parents were still together, Lucy’s mom wasn’t addicted to drugs, and even those ratty-tatty stuffed animals came from great homes.  No one went hungry.  No one had parents die before they graduated.  No one had to decide whether to quit school and have a baby or not.

                        …all of this miles away from the reality I face every day with my real students.

My school was perfect.

In a few years I would be in high school and taking a drama class, auditioning for Grease, and becoming the only grade 10 (junior in my senior high) to get a role as one of the Pink Ladies, Jan.

That was all it took.  I was a theatre rat from that point on.  I went on to get a BFA in Theatre, major in acting and…

                                                            ….met someone in my Astronomy class in the second semester of my first year and ended up staring down the barrel of one of those life changing decisions.  I had already moved from Regina to Victoria and now the whole acting thing seemed rather silly…that’s what everyone around me said…so I needed a “back up plan” … a “real job.” The guy I followed out here was going to be a teacher.

Hey!  I could totally do that!  I could have a whole drawer full of red pens if I wanted! 

Then I volunteered for my first high school class to get the hours needed as a pre-requ. to get into the teaching program at UVic.

I volunteered and fell head over heels in love with it.  The kids were great. The other teachers were great.  And I got to go in that most sacred of all holy places…the staff room (I didn’t at first, though because I really felt that was only for “real” teachers).

Immediately the “troubled” kids found me.  Immediately we were going for coffee, talking about life, and I was making suggestions for them to seek out counseling help.  Immediately I knew that I wanted to do this forever.  I wanted to be a somebody to kids who had nobody.

Much later I came to realize that in my own life, teachers were the ones who saved me, who made me feel like I was part of a community – which was HUGE for me because of my family’s transience as a result of following construction work.  I was rarely in the same place for more than a couple of years…one year I changed schools three times.

Teachers hooked me up with all of the best kids to play with, the best places to hang out, and the best books.  They took me under their wings, were compassionate, caring, and gave me hugs when I really needed it.

One memory stands out for me and has for 40 years or more.  I was in grade one.  We had just moved to Calgary from Regina.  I had, as all little girls do, fallen in love with my wonderful Kindergarten teacher Mrs. McMorris.  She was an angel, as far as I was concerned.  She was kind, she was gentle, and she read with many voices (as all good teachers do).  She was the best.

I was crushed when I learned that we had to move…oh, no!  Mrs. McMorris would be lost to me forever!  I cried all the way to Calgary.  I played sad records on my portable record player and I cried and cried…my little heart was completely broken.

As I got older I grew to absolutely loathe the first day at the new school.  Even if it was September, I hated it.  I hated being the new kid, I hated not knowing anyone, I hated having to make new friends.

So, first day of new school in Calgary – January just after Xmas break – and I am walking down the hall to my new classroom.  I just wanted to cry or throw up.  I did neither.  At one point I was sure that someone called my name.  I kept walking.  I knew it was my name being called…but who here knew it?

When I turned around I looked upon the beautiful face of my beloved Kindergarten teacher…my beloved Mrs. McMorris.  I still get tears in my eyes thinking about that day.  I knew that the world was going to be ok because my angel found me…followed me.  She would protect me and make sure that everything was going to be fine.

We were only in that part of Calgary for a couple of months before we moved again.  I think I was only there until the end of the year.  Then I had to move away from her again.

Thinking back on the times when I felt most hopeless and disconnected, I see that there was always a teacher or professor who made me feel like I had a voice, that I was talented in something, and that I had a great deal to offer the world.

Thinking back on those times I realize that my life has been saved by teachers. 

The most significant people in my life, while I was growing up, were teachers.

I guess it’s not much of a coincidence that I found my way here.  I guess it was inevitable, really.

All of this strife and arguing and fighting with the government, the hate from sections of the public who have no idea what I do, and the misrepresentation in the media have all played a part in forcing me to reconsider my career. 

Do I *really* want to keep doing this?

Then I think about that little girl, all those years ago, running down the hall to hug her teacher and I realize that all I want to do is be *that* teacher for kids like me;  I realize that ignorance will always be there; and I realize that, for me, there is nothing else.

I really love this job. 

I gotta stick with it. 

Number 5 in the Family Series: Dante's Perspective

So now it’s Dante’s turn.

He is probably the most philosophical of all of us.  He is a very deep thinker, very sensitive, and is profoundly affected by all that goes on in his environment.

He is, however, kinda out of touch with the political ins and outs of all of this “government/teacher stuff.”  He admits it.

Dante’s input had to be obtained in a very different method from his brother and sister.  I interviewed him and recorded his feedback on my phone and transcribed the conversation. 

Why did he not just write something like his brother and sister did?  He’s 11, after all…what’s with the helicopter parenting?

Dante has an undiagnosed learning disability. 

“Oh, sure,” you say, “doesn’t everyone’s kid who is too lazy to write?”

                        -A phrase often spoken by people who don’t understand learning disabilities. And I understand learning disabilities…it’s a huge part of my job.  In fact, my experience in spotting undiagnosed L.D caused me to look into my own son’s learning struggles.

Dante is verbally gifted but struggles with what we in the biz call “written output.”  You have seen his work right here on this blog.  I included a sample of his work from two years ago on my first family series entry.  There is no mistaking his talent with words, and his learning disability.

For all of the obvious signs, I can’t get him a coding (ministry designation) in the school district in which he attends school because there are only two district psychologists for the entire district.  The cuts have been so severe that there are only TWO SCHOOL PSYCHOLOGISTS FOR THE ENTIRE DISTRICT!!!!!!!!! 

*That* frustration is for its own blog post.

Now onto Dante’s interview:  my questions will be in regular font and Dante’s answers will be in italics.

How many kids are in your class this year, do you know?

30.  It just keeps getting worse, every class I’m in.  It’s noisier and everything.

What about library?  Do you have a librarian at your school?

Yeah.

Do you get to be in the library on a regular basis?

Every Tuesday, we have, like and hour or a half an hour. 

Isn’t it true that your school only has one box of chalk for the entire school for the teachers to use?

Yeah, I heard an announcement: “return the box of chalk because everybody needs it.”

That’s crazy.

What’s it like having a teacher for a parent?

Um…normal, I guess.  I don’t know it’s much different.  It’s just a job.  Everybody has stories about their job.  Some more than others, like being a teacher you have to put up with a bunch of stuff.

Oh, yeah?  Like what?  What do we have to put up with?

I don’t know, a bunch of random stuff sometimes…random stuff at random times, sometimes and sometimes everything is connected.

What have you thought about missing all that school for rotating strikes?  Do you care?

Do I care about missing school?

Yeah.

Honestly, I’d rather be at home… hanging out with you and dad…obviously.  But I know it’s bad that, um, it’s bad that the teachers are on strike but I like not having that much school because, honestly, I’d rather be at home, doing something I actually like…and  that interests me.  But if I had M. as a teacher, I would like school much, much more.

Oh yeah?  Why is that?

Because he is very interesting and he likes the same stuff that I like and we’re so much alike and that’s the only reason I would like school more is because it would actually be interesting… not that school isn’t already interesting, but you know what I mean.

Yeah.

Sometimes it’s really boring…most of the time.

So you’re saying if you have a teacher you know and like then they make things more interesting because you are more interested in what they have to say because you like them as a person?

Yeah. 

What do you think would happen if the government, took away codings – a way to let teachers know how to help kids?

That would suck. 

Like, let’s say I couldn’t give your teachers your little profile that we give them in the beginning of the year and you always say “it’s time to have *that* conversation with my teacher…” about how you learn and stuff.  What if I wasn’t allowed to do that.

That would suck….epic.

Why?

Because people wouldn’t understand you and they won’t know how to teach you, or work with you, or connect to you and it’s just useless.  If they can’t do that then they can’t successfully do their job.

Gotcha.  So before we started doing that, this is way back, what was it like for you in a classroom?

Honestly, I don’t remember.  You probably remember more than me.  I know you are not me and can’t speak for me but…you know what I mean.

Yeah, that was a long time ago.  All you remember is teachers working with us to let us do the thing where I scribe for you and stuff.  Does that help you?

When you scribe for me?

Yeah.

100 per cent. 

What if teachers weren’t allowed to do that anymore?

Is it ever going to be like that?

I hope not.

It probably won’t.

What about your support teacher?

I don’t have that any more.

Why?

 I don’t know.  I assumed I just didn’t need one any more. I mean, it’s nice to get out of class and hang out with people.

Now you get to hang out with your Aboriginal support teacher, right?

Yeah.  It’s also really good because I get out of math.  I hate it so much.

What would you say to people who say that teachers are lazy…

That is just not true.

…they say we are lazy because we don’t work in summer…

That’s not true…there is summer school. You do summer school all the time…well, every second year and I don’t know much about it but I do know that teachers are not actually lazy because I’ve been around a lot of bad teachers and a lot of great teachers and I know they are not lazy.

I don’t know if the bad teachers and great teachers have any thing to do with it but I know you very rarely find a lazy teacher.  You *can’t* be lazy when you are a teacher. You always have work.  You always have files or report cards or read-ups you need to do on people so it’s impossible for a teacher to be lazy because you are not allowed to be.

Do you think teachers make that much money compared to the work we do?

No.  You should make more.

Yeah?  Why is that?

It’s just that you deserve more because, like, people don’t know what you have to deal with…not saying that the kids are bad, per se, but I’m not saying just the bad things but…like mentally ill people…and people that need help…you know what I mean?

Teachers are just a bunch of…teaching is just a bunch of careers mashed up into one than just, you know, teaching…like counselling and all this.

So we do more than just teaching…

You *have to* do more than just teaching…

Is that what makes a good teacher is that they do more than just teaching? 

Most teachers have to do more than just teaching.  If you want to be a really nice,

and/or good teacher, you should definitely do more than just teach.  You should help people when they are feeling bad or when there is something wrong at their house, and they can’t talk to anyone, you should make them talk to you. 

I dunno, that’s just what I think because I know that’s what you do and I assume that you are a good teacher…which you are, so…

 

What about sometimes I come home and I don’t have a lot of patience for you…

That makes sense…

 do you think that is just part of the deal or….?

I think it makes sense that you don’t have patience because you have to deal with…especially when I don’ t want to do my homework…because you have to deal with kids that don’t wanna do stuff all day, every day, so…

You seemed really upset when I said that people think teachers are lazy…

Yeah, I hear that on the radio a lot.  It makes no sense.  How can people not “get” teachers?  It makes no sense.

What if Christy Clark came to your school for a visit and she asked you how she was doing in education.  What would you say?

What she was doing to education or how she was doing?

Like how could she improve education?

How she could improve?  (he laughs)  Just get someone new…just don’t be there any more…just leave.

(laugh) Just quit!

Yeah!  That’s the only way to solve her problems…just quit.

The only way to solve the problems between the teachers and the government is if she quit?

Mhmm.

Why?

Because she just naturally sucks.  She is terrible to teachers and they don’t deserve it.  Teachers are great people…well…I’m going to say most teachers are great people because I have been around many terrible teachers…but most teachers are great people who don’t deserve that.  And I don’t think they deserve the crap they have to put up with with her. 

They have to put up with enough stuff…and not “put up with” like they don’t want to do this, I’m saying “put up with” in a good way.  They have to put up with stuff, it’s not like they don’t want to, they want to help people and that’s good because you should want to help people. 

How would you make school better?

Um….oh…um….

…have more teachers like you because it would be more fun and, you know, cool.  Just have a whole school of you and M. and of course your friends cuz I know you only hang out with good teachers. 

What would you say to teachers to make them feel better about all of this stuff?  What would you say to the teachers you like?  Like, M?

I don’t know.  I probably wouldn’t talk about it.  I would try to take his mind off it all by playing Heroclix or something.  Just don’t bring it up.

So, there you go.  Wisdom from an 11 year old boy.  He doesn’t really know what’s going on but he knows that Christy Clark needs to quit and we need to do what we like to get our minds off all of this nonsense…like Heroclix…or whatever your favourite thing is.

Good advice.

So take it, Christy, and quit.  J

Number 4 In the Family Series: My Husband's Perspective

(I love this pic of Dal...the badass in the hoodie.)

Here it is...the truth we are afraid to hear.  

For my teacher friends, these are the insights we are always afraid to ask for from our spouses:  what's it like to be married to a teacher?  What do they really think about our dedication to our kids and our job?

This is my husband's view of what I do.  

It greeted me this morning at the coffee maker.

My beloved is a brilliant writer - better than I am, I dare say, so I will stop here and let him "speak" for himself:

We have all had that one teacher.

That one who was phoning it in.

That one who picked on us & made us feel stupid.

That one who should have found another profession years ago but they were sticking it out for the vacation time, pension, sense of power, or some other reason that they would not admit.

We think about that teacher.

We colour our view of all educators in the same shade as that teacher.

We constantly believe that our children are in the presence of that teacher & they are doing to them what they did to us.

Just to let you know …

My wife is not that teacher.

My wife is a passionate & present person.

My wife draws in those who have been damaged by their home lives & the system to attempt to get them the counselling that they ought to have.

My wife fights against apathy, bureaucracy, wilful ignorance, & sometimes the children, themselves, to empower kids & their families with the schooling they so richly deserve.

She is on call for children & parents who wish to voice their concerns or air their grievances.

She has opened her home on weekends for students who have been so overcome by their lives that formal education is no longer a priority in an attempt to get them back into school.

She takes care of those who need it the most when others feel that they deserve it the least.

Do I think that she is a saint?

No.

I have watched her struggle over the years against administration, other teachers, students, & her own personal issues to the point where I thought she was, in plain terms, a masochist.

Plus, anyone who has heard her talk knows that she is no saint.

Do I think that she is infallible?

No.

Being fervent & loving can result in a feverish disposition; sometimes, less than tactful.  She owns her mistakes.

Do I think that she is right?

Yes.

In terms of a righteous fury, a justified warrior, she is the one you want on your side, fighting for you, struggling for your child.

I am a private man.

I was hesitant to write this article.

I enjoy the solitude of my home life & dislike strangers in my sphere.

I find there are times that her patience has been spent at school & there is little to give at home.

I wish there were periods she would disconnect from the turmoil of others to focus on the serenity within herself.

When I see the difference she makes in other people’s lives, I understand why she does what she does.

When I see how she gives people the opportunity to better themselves, I realize that the sacrifices that I must make in my home to accommodate her plan are, at best, minor.

When I see how she loves to help, I feel like I should do more.

Just to let you know …

My wife is not that teacher.

My wife is a teacher.

Number 3 in the Family Series: My Daughter's perspective of being a teacher's kid.

Here is post 3 in the "Kids of a teacher" series.  This one is from my daughter, Kendra's, perspective.  She attended the high school where I teach.  She has been on the picket line with me in 2005 and last week.  She has seen, closer than most, how teaching impacts the lives of the people in the families of teachers.

Her outrage, which is pretty mild in this post compared to what she expressed in the vehicle on the way to school last week, is what inspired this little series in the first place.  Her post is succinct and heartfelt.  I now turn it over to her:

Most people only spend their elementary and high school years with or around teachers, and only the lucky few get to share and experience a close relationship with them.  For me I have and will spend the rest of my life with teachers, because not only are three out of the four of my parents teachers, but the majority of their friends are educators as well. 

As someone who has been raised by teachers I have seen and lived through what most students don’t even worry or think twice about. From the smallest thing like extra time they put in outside of work, to going on strike to stand up for what they really deserve.

When people bad mouth teachers, calling them whiney and selfish, they seem to forget who takes care and teaches their kids during and after school hours, from the age of 4 up to 18. Not only that but they prepare us for the “real world”, and yet here people are being completely ignorant of the fact that teachers really do shape the future.  

It’s unfortunate that there are teachers who could really care less about the students and do the job just for the pay and perks, however the people that genuinely care and love their students need the recognition and respect from the government that they deserve.

 More importantly, why wouldn’t you want to put the time and money into schools to ensure that your child not only gets a proper, efficient education, but that they can experience extracurricular activities without being “cheap” about it?

Number 2 in the Family Series: My Eldest's View of Being a Teacher's Kid

Before I "pass you on" to my son via his writing, the blog spies need to know that anything I talk about at home is in generalities.  I am respectful enough to not name names when I am grieving over the lives of the beautiful children with whom I work on a daily basis.  

Just thought I'd put that out there given the grief I got about the play blog enteries.    

...a little FYI

Now over to my oldest son, Dylan:

Going through school is not easy for anyone. 

At some point through our educational lives, we undoubtedly experience problems with work, other students, or even our teachers. As a hyperactive boy brought up in a school system that favours a more girl oriented learning style, I frequently had trouble staying on task, holding my tongue and handing work in on time. 

Early on in elementary, I hated going to school. 

When it came time to do homework, it was a struggle every night but was fortunate enough to have parents that were determined to see my success to the end. No matter how much I kicked and screamed, my parents were always willing to come help me with the next day’s homework despite the previous night’s debacle.  

How do my parents make a living might you ask? 

Well, they’re teachers. 

Do you think a mechanic is eager to get out the tools and work on more cars after a long day at the shop? Chances are no. 

But no matter what kind of day my parents had at school or how much marking they might have, if I needed help, I never had to ask twice. 

As I moved into secondary school, though my hyperactivity remained, far fewer assignments came in late and I began to see some success; I even started to like school. The values and learning habits instilled in me through my parents resonated with me and I owe my current academic successes to the long nights in the dining room learning the multiplication table or French conjugation.

Helping people just comes second nature to teachers, well, the ones that raised me anyway.  

I am proud to be the child of a teacher. 

Any time I mention my mother’s name to someone that attended her school, they say something like the following: “Oh, wow! That’s your mom? She’s awesome! She’s turned so many people’s lives around.” 

Nothing makes me more proud than when someone says that. 

My mom deals with the students that would not be given the time of day by some teachers because of their behaviour or absences. They don’t come to class and don’t seem to try in their work and therefore don’t merit any attention from some teachers. 

These are the students that need the most attention. 

They’re not stupid; if anything these ‘alternate’ students have a leg up on everyone else because of their life experiences. 

I have heard countless heartbreaking stories (anonymous, of course) of the home lives many of her students face; drug addicted, abusive or simply absent parents are reoccurring themes in their lives. Sometimes these kids have to stay home and look after their siblings because their mom is off getting high. 

If my mom did not delve deep into the root of what was bothering these students and help them to overcome it and complete their studies, many of them may not have graduated, or worse. 

The way she treats and teaches these students changed the way I view people. It taught me not to judge someone on their behaviour because there is often an underlying reason as to why someone is acting the way they are.

As the child of teachers, it breaks my heart to see the struggles they face from government. 

I get to see and hear about all the hard work they do once the final bell rings. 

People forget about how hard it is to be a teacher. It takes a lot of money and education to finally get the right to stand in front of a class and give credentials to a future generation. 

Seeing where our government likes to spend and save its money is going to hurt us as a province in the long haul. 

Teachers do not do what they do for the money, but it would be nice to see all the hard work pay off in the end. Cuts to so many important programs impede the ability of teachers to truly make a difference in the lives of kids. 

Old battered resources and massive classes are commonplace in this province. 

Going back to our friend the mechanic, imagine him as a teacher. Think of the ripped and torn books as old broken tools, the massive class sizes as over booked garages and the cars on the road as our students. 

What kind of cars do we want on the road and what kind of young adults do we want entering the work force? 

With a little more investment into our education system, we can have some pretty fast and reliable students on the road... cars in the class room... whatever, you get the analogy. 

Not anyone can be a teacher, so we need to love the ones we have.

Politics aside, growing up in a family of teachers makes for great kids. Any of my friends that have teachers as parents all seem to be fairly well off in life and headed in the right direction. I know that I will do well in life because of the support system I have behind me. I am grateful and proud of the teacher parents that I have. 

The First Post in a Family Series

Week one.  Lockout/walk out combo.

Support on the picket line was amazing.  Very few people took time out of their day to swear at us or give us the finger.  That was nice.  In 2005, teachers took their lives in their hands, or so it felt, to identify publicly as a teacher – never mind walking the picket line on those dark, rainy, dreary days.

           

Wednesday my daughter, who walked the line with me on my Tuesday picket day, drove me to work (front tires are hooped and I can’t afford to fix them now…thanks, Christy).  She listened to CBC with me so I could catch up on any bargaining news.  What she heard, interspersed with the support, were a number of completely misinformed people spout off about how we are lazy (because of the summers off) and in no way deserve the kind of increase we are asking for.  She became very angry at these opinions born out of ignorance and wanted to set the record straight. 

I suggested she write down her perspectives and I would post it here.   She agreed.  So did her two brothers.  So did my husband.

Over the next several days, I will be posting their words for you to see how the lives of teachers, the reality of the job, impact the lives of their families.

I was so happy to see Todd Kettner’s letter to Christy Clark, and gang, because finally a support person has gotten some attention for their tireless work and dedication to the most vulnerable kids and families in our province. 

That dedication does not come without a price.  A very high price.  Our mental health is compromised daily as we keep putting one foot in front of the other because, in many cases, we are the only ones who step up for these vulnerable families and youth.

I say “we” because I, too am a support teacher.  I, too have had to counsel kids and families through loss, frustration, and heart break.  In one school year in my district, we lost count of how many kids died from car accidents, suicide, or o.ds.  Some of those kids were grads and some were kids we saw everyday…used to see everyday.  Kids whose chairs were now empty.

Kids in our classrooms. 

My classroom.

My heart goes out to those teachers and the community in New Denver.  I have lost kids, too.  If it weren’t for people like Todd Kettner, I probably wouldn’t be writing this today. 

At the time of the losses I was working in two schools – my “home” school and at a trades program with a couple dozen at risk boys, three teachers, and an EA.  We were all very close. The loss was devastating to a group of kids whose lives were already difficult for them in one way or another.

I felt completely separated from my “home” school community for many reasons, not the least of which were the circumstances of the car accident.  Two vehicles crashed into each other.  The friends of the kids in one car were angry at the friends and kids in the other.  Some adults even got in on the division.  It was unbelievably difficult.

The day after the car accident, my school community wrapped around me like a blanket to keep me from falling apart.  My colleagues left me messages telling me that my pain was welcome there and I was to come home for love and support.  That meant more to me than I am ever able to say.

I am also a counselor – a substance use counselor – but in the “eye of the storm”
one cannot get any perspective.  I am very grateful to our support staff for those difficult days.  A number of my friends, who are also my colleagues, we by my side at back-to-back funerals.  I don’t think I would have made it with out those people.

The hardest days, though, came after the news teams stopped trying to harass us and the funerals were over.  The hardest days came after the hikes we took with the boys to get them out of the small school so they didn’t have to be in the same places their buddy had been only a week ago.  The hardest days came when we tried to go “back to normal,” when we tried to get the kids back in to a routine, when we tried to get ourselves back to how things were before. 

It was never the same, though. 

The empty chair was a constant reminder of how we would never see the kid’s smile or hear the laugh again.  And, for the survivors of the crash, both for the kids in the vehicle and the kids in the class, the school year was over.  They just couldn’t see the space and that empty chair.

The hardest day, by far was when I was trying to get back to teaching Socials 11 (we were studying the Interwar Years – labour disputes, of all things).  We were marking a worksheet together and I made a statement about how governments in the past would basically hire thugs to beat strikers…then out of my mouth came “and then_____said that they should have fought back more…”  I said the kid’s name - the kid whose seat was empty…like I would say the name of any of the other kids in the room if they had given an example for other questions – like I would on any other day.

My voice trailed off. 

And I remember this like it was yesterday…

I looked into the faces of the ten or so boys who sat there looking at me, my eyes filling with tears, and I said… “I didn’t expect that to happen.  I’m not sure how I feel about this.  Sorry.  I need a minute.” 

I took a minute. 

They took a minute. 

Then we carried on. 

After the lesson, as the boys left for lunch, many of them gave me a hug or a little arm squeeze on the way out of the door. 

I have thought about that moment, the moment when I recalled the comment by the kid whose chair was empty. 

Why did I do that? 

Then it dawned on me:  for that split second I had forgotten that the kid had died.  For that split second I had forgotten that he wasn’t just sleeping in, he was sleeping forever.  For that split second we, all of us in that room and that little school, we were all “normal” again; not drowning in a fog of grief that weighed us down like Atlas.

In every way possible, I feel for the teachers, families, and friends of those lost in Slocan Lake.  I feel for them because in those moments when you forget the loss, and when you remember again, the grief is new. 

My children and my husband had to watch me suffer through that not once, not twice, but three times in four months.  Six weeks after the first car accident, there was a second fatal accident.  Then, less than a month after the second car accident, one of my colleagues passed away. 

During that second loss, my daughter was also impacted by the death.  A very good friend of hers had passed.  Also in a car accident…it was a repeat of something we never wanted to go through again.

My youngest son, 9 at the time, was so impacted by the grief in the house that he began to write poetry from the point of view of a soldier in World War I, suffering in the trenches from the loss of his friends and the burden of the job he had to do…to “pull the trigger when no one else would.”  He knew we were in extreme pain and could not really help.  He was impacted by my job.

My husband held me as I sobbed into his chest the night after I went to the hospital to visit one of the crash survivors on a day when I also visited the other survivor at home. 

Not a good combo, I know, but what was I supposed to do?  The young man called me on my cell, crying, saying he needed to talk to someone. 

What was I supposed to do? 

The mom of the young man in the hospital needed me to come to see him. 

I had to go. 

Those boys were burrowed in my heart as deeply as if they were my biological children.

What was I supposed to do? 

I waited with the parents (so thankful that their son had survived) for their boy to come out of surgery.  I waited, too.  Thankful, too.  Terrified about how this kid would look.  How would I stay strong for him and his parents when all I wanted to do was fall to the ground, wailing in grief?

An hour or so later the young man opened his eyes and the first thing out of his mouth was, “Elke!  It is so good to see your face!”  He reached out his good hand to me to come to him. 

I took his hand.  I tried not to cry.  I really did…but then he remembered. 

He had his moment of remembering why he was there and he called out the name of his friend who had passed.  He begged me not to be angry with him for the accident.

Then I started to cry, which upset him, and I thought it was a good idea to leave him in peace so as not to upset him further.

I sat in a chair and honestly thought I was going to faint…if that’s what was happening.  I had never fainted before.

After I got home I told my husband that story and sobbed until I ached from the wracking of every muscle in my body.

My husband had to endure my grief.  My kids had to endure my grief. 

What I do everyday for the lives of other people’s families and kids impacts the lives of my family and kids.  Most of the time it is for the better because I love what I do.  I love working with some of the most challenging kids in the district – they make me a better person. 

But sometimes, and not often, there is a shock wave through my house, the epicenter of which is my school.  During those times my family has learned to rally around mom because she needs a little extra love.

 Right now there are shock waves galore going through my house – the epicenter is Victoria.  During these difficult times, my family is rallying around to get us through the difficulties, psychological and financial.  They give me pep talks to drown out the ignorance and the critics.  They are my life preservers.

Thank you to my family.  I can’t do what I do with out you.

We Speak for Kids and Public Education But Who Is Speaking for Us in the Leg.?

For the past several weeks, I have been lost in the noise of my own anger, sadness,and frustration with the state of negotiations between us and the BC government.  I have wanted to contribute to the dialogue.  Even my most quiet colleagues have been riled enough to wade into the fray.                                                                                                                                                        I did not want my voice to be buried. 

    I began to think about different angles to the issue and I remembered a conversation the reporters on the Legislature had on Friday morning on CBC.  One of the reporters brought up the fact that the NDP are very quiet right now about the teachers'/education issues.  It hit me like a tonne of bricks...she was right!  Where was the Ministry of Ed critic on this?

So I decided, on this rainy Sunday, to do two things:  (1) Break the sanctioned silence of my blog presence (2) research the four main political parties to see where they stand on the current issues in education in this province.

    

     After all, it has only been one year since we walked from behind the cardboard barriers of the voting booth, placing our hopes on a new political future - horrifyingly disappointing as it was.   We, as teachers, parents, and former students voted for a number of different candidates believing that our voices would be heard in the legislative assembly through those we elected or at least attempted to elect.  We also hoped that, even if those people did not have a seat in the Leg., at least they would serve as voices critical of current attacks on public education and protect it.

    My research this morning causes me to despair.  We placed our hopes on parties that have either forgotten about us or simply do not have the political balls to stand up to the Liberal bullies running the school yard.  I will give a quick run down of the issues in the foreground of the political parties in "across the floor" from the Liberals so you can see what is first and foremost on the political agenda of these parties.  And please, don't take my word for it, go to the websites yourself and check it out - the silence on the issues surrounding public education is deafening.

    

PARTY #1:  THE OFFICIAL OPPOSITION

Leader: John Horgan

     The last time we have heard word one from the NDP on education was back in February when the whole court document regarding Paul Straszak and Clark's deputy minister's plan to provoke a teacher's strike came to light...and was promptly buried.  The NDP seemed to just shrug their collective shoulders and walk away from the issue that finally, someone was caught stating UNDER OATH that Christy Clark is a conniving, manipulative...well, you get the picture.  

     The NDP let it slide - they were too busy with in-fighting in their party to focus on the jugular.  Man, if I were the leader of the NDP, bodies would be hitting the floor of the Leg. all over the place!  Non-confidence votes would have been the least of this government's worries.

     So, as of today, on the official party website the key issues are as follows:

1.  Impact of the broken 200 million dollar computerized Integrated Case Management system which issues social services cheques and other important paper work for people on social assistance

2.  Disability Claw Backs

3. Aboriginal Missing Women's report:  BC has more missing and murdered Aboriginal women than any other province in the country

4.  Ferries cuts

5.  Preserving the Agricultural Land Reserve

***NOT A SINGLE MENTION OF THE GOV'TS TREATMENT OF TEACHERS AND EDUCATION****

      Even in the News Stories category, in which the latest post was May 24, there absolutely no mention of the issues in education.  The main story was titled Reality Checks, in which Christy Clark's government was criticised for her broken promises to focus on families.  The main points were:

1.  Hydro, ferry, medical insurance premiums, ICBC rate increases

2.  Stagnant wadges - behind national average

3.  Child support claw backs

4. Agricultural Land Reserve

5.  Job creation failures

6.  Debt to be $70 bill by 2017

     I dunno, call me crazy, but does the devastation of public education NOT fall into the category of issues impacting families?

     It's pretty pathetic when the official opposition doesn't even stand against the government on an issue which would single them out as a truly effective opposition.

    Mark my words, NDP, as a long time supporter, your silence on this issue will cost you votes.  Teachers never forget!

      IN NO WAY DOES THE NDP PARTY OF BC MENTION THE CUTS TO EDUCATION, THE CONDITIONS IN CLASSROOMS, OR THE NEGLECT OF TEACHERS OVER THE PAST DECADE.

PARTY #2:  THE INVISIBLE OPPOSITION

Leader: Jane Sterk

     The only party in BC to mention anything about current issues between teachers and the Liberal government is the Green Party.  In the number one position on their web site is an article titled:  Renewing Relationships in BC Education.
          In the article, the party calls for a focus on repairing the dysfunctional relationship between the BCTF and the government, stating that both sides share equal blame in the current state of negotiations as a result of their use of media to try to win the PR battle.  Their suggestion was to have the lead negotiators sit  in a locked room until they can work out their issues.  The article goes on to note that the current dispute puts kids in the middle and disrupts their lives and learning.
     Other issues on their site are as follows:  
1.  Call for the repeal of the Parks Amendment Act - this would allow industrial development in parklands
2.  Resolution sought for desecration of ancient burial sites on Grace Islet (Salt Spring Island) - residential developers want to build over ancient burial sites.  WOW! Did they not see Poltergeist?
3.  Discussions about the Day of Honour 

     IN NO WAY DOES THE GREEN PARTY OF BC MENTION THE CUTS TO EDUCATION , THE CONDITIONS IN CLASSROOMS, OR THE NEGLECT OF TEACHERS OVER THE PAST DECADE.                             

 PARTY #3:  THE CONSERVATIVE PARTY OF BC

Leader: Dan Brooks

          As one would expect from the virtually nonexistent BC political party, there was little of anything on this site regarding anything.  In fact, the site is rarely updated with even comments on what is going on in the BC political landscape.  Their main news stories were:

1.  Brooks calls for Cumulative Impact Plans as a foundation for area-based forest tenures (May 14)

2.  Condemnation of Bill 2 which impacts the use of Agricultural Land Reserve

The remainder of the stories focused on the leadership fight within the party.

 IN NO WAY DOES THE BC CONSERVATIVES MENTION THE CUTS TO EDUCATION, THE CONDITIONS IN CLASSROOMS, OR THE NEGLECT OF TEACHERS OVER THE PAST DECADE.

     

     See, I told you.  It's grim.  How are we supposed to get the attention of the people of this province if we do not even have a voice in the one place where change is made officially?  

     Guess it's time to start writing letters to the opposition parties demanding that they start to stand up and protect public education in this province.  They need a reminder that a strong publicly educated electorate is the key to a healthy democracy.  They need to be reminded that if they refuse to speak up about this hot topic they are showing the citizens of BC that they will remain silent on other issues as well.  They need to be reminded that a refusal to stand up to the haranguing and harassment of teachers, specialist teachers, and other education professionals demonstrates a weakness that does not deserve to be voted for during the next election.

     So, I ask again, IF WE SPEAK FOR KIDS AND FOR THE NECESSITY TO PROTECT PUBLIC EDUCATION, WHO IS SPEAKING FOR US IN THE LEG.?