Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Epiphany? Not Quite. But Still.
Last night I lay awake for some minutes, my soul or my gut feeling restless. By gut I don't mean that part of my body where the beer and icing go, but the part of my being where the feelings fester and churn and congeal. You have one, too.
Although I'm still intent on not letting family scorekeeping and holiday grudgebearing affect me, I can still slip up in the middle of the night. You can, too.
For some minutes I wondered: if I choose to visit that town this Easter so those people don't have to be alone, am I giving in? If I choose to do so when they haven't asked, does it count as giving in? What does that woman say about me to Vic? To my stepbrother and stepsister? Will Vic get mad at me if I suggest that we don't want to make the same mistake with our mother as we did with our dad? When passive-aggressive push comes to I'm-not-taking-it-anymore shove, will I be able to say, "I've spent the past 19 years worrying about who was going to be mad at me for every holiday, and I'm just not going to permit it anymore. I'm looking down the barrel at 40 now, and here's what I can give."
I soon fell asleep again, got up when I had to, decided that the haircut I got yesterday is the best I've had in ten years, and went to school. The kids were participating in mock interviews with area human resource professionals, so I didn't have much to do. I did learn that the cool yet tragic missionary chick's parent are indeed planning another two-week trip, and Missionary Mom came to talk to Prinicpal Stan about that and her daughter's grades. Stan didn't pull any punches, as usual. We'll see what happens.
It also occurred to me that if I actually had had the relationship I thought I had with my parents until 1990, I'd really be much less effective as a teacher. I have lots of colleagues who enjoy fairly flowery (picture cherubic Victorian children) relationships with their parents and children, but you know what? They, in most cases, don't enjoy those same kinds of relationships with their students-- not even close. My difficult, messy, sticky, muddy family web affords me a better rapport with today's kids.
Last fall it allowed me to say this to Bella, a fringe student who was angry and heartbroken at the same time with her dad, who didn't call her on a holiday: "Sometimes we get shits for parents, and we may not be able to change them." I think that meant more to her than any pity would.
Although I'm still intent on not letting family scorekeeping and holiday grudgebearing affect me, I can still slip up in the middle of the night. You can, too.
For some minutes I wondered: if I choose to visit that town this Easter so those people don't have to be alone, am I giving in? If I choose to do so when they haven't asked, does it count as giving in? What does that woman say about me to Vic? To my stepbrother and stepsister? Will Vic get mad at me if I suggest that we don't want to make the same mistake with our mother as we did with our dad? When passive-aggressive push comes to I'm-not-taking-it-anymore shove, will I be able to say, "I've spent the past 19 years worrying about who was going to be mad at me for every holiday, and I'm just not going to permit it anymore. I'm looking down the barrel at 40 now, and here's what I can give."
I soon fell asleep again, got up when I had to, decided that the haircut I got yesterday is the best I've had in ten years, and went to school. The kids were participating in mock interviews with area human resource professionals, so I didn't have much to do. I did learn that the cool yet tragic missionary chick's parent are indeed planning another two-week trip, and Missionary Mom came to talk to Prinicpal Stan about that and her daughter's grades. Stan didn't pull any punches, as usual. We'll see what happens.
It also occurred to me that if I actually had had the relationship I thought I had with my parents until 1990, I'd really be much less effective as a teacher. I have lots of colleagues who enjoy fairly flowery (picture cherubic Victorian children) relationships with their parents and children, but you know what? They, in most cases, don't enjoy those same kinds of relationships with their students-- not even close. My difficult, messy, sticky, muddy family web affords me a better rapport with today's kids.
Last fall it allowed me to say this to Bella, a fringe student who was angry and heartbroken at the same time with her dad, who didn't call her on a holiday: "Sometimes we get shits for parents, and we may not be able to change them." I think that meant more to her than any pity would.
# posted by Chrissy Snow @ 4/01/2009 02:01:00 PM 
