“People fear what they don’t understand…”~Andrew Smith

 

I knew very few people of color growing up in Missouri. The University of Missouri has an extensive census archive which says that in the 1970’s my county was 97 percent white. 

97 percent white…let that sink in.  

 

My little hometown on the Big Muddy was steeped in racism.

 

 To this day you can find Confederate flags flying high around Missouri. 

I wonder if these people wish the Civil War had gone the other way 

(40% of Missouri fought for the Confederacy). 

 If not, do these people think about the symbol that this flag represents…slavery. 

How that feels to their black friends. 

Do they have any black friends?

 

Being able to put yourself in another person’s shoes and then to think about how your actions and beliefs affect that person has always resonated with me. 

How would I feel if I were a black person in our white-centric world?

 

My hometown had Aunt Jemimah syrup. 

My hometown had black lawn jockeys. 

 I remember seeing a kid who wore a 

hobo costume for Halloween one year with blackface. 

No one thought the costume was wrong, except for maybe the 

3% of blacks not enjoying being compared to a hobo.  

Was this meant to imply blacks were homeless? Jobless? 

 

Inexplicably I still love my hometown and I hope that the #BLM movement might instill 

a deeper consideration around race for those who are racist and not aware of it. 

 

Being open to seeing, and addressing, our own ugliness is the only way to make a change. 

For those of you who will actually consider what I wrote without dismissing

me since “you’re sure you’re not racist” check out 

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Olua. 

 

If we get real with ourselves we all have a prejudice to something and

 when we know better, we can do better. 

 

Day 25

This is an unprecedented time for the world. 

Over ten thousand dead in our country 

alone in just weeks. 

For twenty-five days Pete and I have (mostly) been at home. 

We walk, grocery shop (as little as possible), and wait. 

Yet, I’m grateful to have a partner that I enjoy spending time with. 

Our walking miles have now topped 55. 

We live near a trail system that connects to a wilderness area, 

so there are a lot of miles to cover. 

However, the trail traffic has increased tenfold since this crisis began 

so we are mostly walking on our neighborhood streets to keep our distance. 

There is plenty of room in our neighborhood.

 Big houses with big yards and wide empty streets.

This is not the case for everyone. 

Cities teaming with people.

Narrow, crowded streets.

This is a dark and scary time, yet this will pass. 

Everything does.

I’m on an emotional rollercoaster. 

Sometimes I’m despondent thinking of all the inequalities in the world.

I lay sleepless thinking of the “essential” workers. 

The hospital workers. The grocery workers. The migrant farm workers.  

Those in India lacking the very soap and water needed to wash their hands.

The single adult struggling with no job and depression…alone. 

Then I remind myself to pray. 

To see the good that I have in my life. 

To see the good that still exist in the world. 

This is a dark and scary time, yet this will pass.

Everything does. 

A Calm Mind is a Creative Mind

On Wednesday something special happened in my class.

 It was a small, sweet moment that I want to share.

Just after lunch we meditate each day. 

This routine was set up at the beginning of the year. 

Students have the choice to either: 

follow their breath, count silently to themselves, or to pray. 

After meditation is DEAR time (Drop Everything And Read).

Older students will sometimes come in to read with the younger kids at this time. 

When kids who have not been in my class come in at DEAR time they sit at the 

kidney table by the door and watch our meditation. 

On Wednesday four of my students from last year came in to read with us. 

One is a Buddhist.

One is a Muslim.

One is the son of a Baptist Minister.

One is not religious.

My former students came in and, without a word from me, 

scattered themselves on the floor amongst my current students. 

One sat next to me ready to assist me. 

I set the timer and the gong sounded to start our three minutes of meditation. 

After three minutes another gong sounded to indicate our time was up. 

The whole room was silent after the second gong. 

A big intake of breath and a sigh out. 

Then, in unison, our mantra:

May I be happy

May I be safe

May I be loved

Often teaching first grade is a bit chaotic and moments such as these slip past me. 

I’m glad I recognized this one. 

A Story for my Fellow Teachers

On Thursday night we stopped at our local liquor store for a bottle of wine. 

It’s kind of a dive, but Pete loves the guys working there. 

As I waited in the car a beat-up Chevy pulls in next to me. 

The car turns off and I can hear the couple in the front seat arguing. 

I glance over and make eye contact with a girl of around 10 in the back seat.

 She’s rocking a baby seat that is in the middle and there’s 

another kid on the other side of the baby. 

The guy gets out of the car. Baggy khaki pants, work boots, and a black hoodie that he pulls up over his shaved head. 

When Pete gets back in the car he says there was a guy ranting about Hamburger Helper… saying to the clerk, “she can’t even make fucking Hamburger Helper right.”

Now I know what the fight was about. 

As I back out I smile at the girl in the backseat still rocking the baby. 

I want to remember this girl each morning when I greet my children.

 I want all my teacher friends to remember this girl as they greet their children each morning.

We can’t know what goes on at their homes each night.

We may be a light in the dark for them. 

The Light Always Follows the Darkness

Swathes of darkness are mostly the extent of my childhood memories.

A birthday cake here, a somersault there, not much more. 

Since my father’s death my dreams are bringing twisted,

dark pictures that I’m trying to assimilate. 

These thoughts, once hidden, now freely fall into my conscious like 

rocks precariously perched on a cliff side pummeled 

and set free by a sudden downpour. 

They fall heavy with pain filling my body, 

threatening my very existence.

Yet, I will do this. 

My life has been preparation for the unearthing of this dark monster. 

And when I have exposed the entirety of the monster 

to the light it’s power will wilt. 

No longer holding sway over me. 

My focus is on the future and the positive that I believe will 

come from the work I am doing right now…and always I try to find gratitude for all of the beauty and love I have been shown in this life.