Serenity

Serenity
The Breachway

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

One door closes.......

The Blindside

Divorce is undoubtedly one of the most difficult and, conversely liberating events in one’s life.  The decision to divorce sometimes comes suddenly, out of the blue, leaving the unsuspecting partner breathless, devastated and drowning.  A blindside of sorts.
Last week, I was served papers; unceremoniously, across a polished, mahogany table.  A paper was given to me with just two words spoken; “sign here.”  I refused to sign, not knowing to what I was assigning my name.  Had I done something to my partner?  Had I said something terrible or hurt the children in any way?  No one at that polished slab of wood uttered a word; no one raised their eyes to look at me.  The hammering of my heart and the growl of my intestines were the only thing indicated that this was not a horrible prank.  With one last gasp of fire and dignity, I took the offending paper and added my own words.  “I refused to sign, because I was not told what I was signing.”
My first thoughts were of the children.  How would I explain to them that I would not be with them to share their final years of high school, never take prom pictures, nor be one of those proud few in the special section at graduation.  I gathered them close and just blurted it all out.  I knew I should have handled it better, but that’s what a blindside does.  The damage was done; the shock on their    faces was more that I could bear.
I called upon friends to tell them of the divorce, because in all divorces friends are hurt, too.  I wanted them to hear the news from me and to let them know I would understand if they had to reevaluate our friendship.  In all divorces, you lose friends.  All of my friends had been my partner’s friends, long before I came into the picture.  I knew they liked me better, but in a divorce, longevity and familiarity trump all.  Also, in divorces, friends often wonder,” if it can happen to her, it can happen to me.  They seemed so happy.”  They were blindsided too.
Almost a week has gone by; my breath doesn’t catch in my throat as often. I can see a bit more clearly that the divorce is most likely going to be very liberating.   I can see how toxic and unhealthy this partnership was.  I realize that there were hints of a blindside, but I loved my partner and loved the life I had been living.  I know I will find another partner; I will celebrate more proms and graduations.  Out there, is a partner who will cherish me and respect all of who I am, without reservations, without vindictiveness, without blindsides.  I am swimming to the surface, clearing debris, working to heal.  I am learning to trust myself and my choices.  My future is still murky and uncertain, but I am hopeful.  The next time choose a partner, I will choose with the sting of a blindside always under the surface; lesson learned. 

I am a Moderate Special Needs, non-tenured high school English teacher. There is a clause, MGL Chapter 71 § 42 states that non-professional status teachers teachers are “employees at will,” which means they may be terminated by the employer for any reason or for no reason. (massteacher.org)   My Principal, my partner of two years, used this to hand me my walking papers last week.  It is for him and his posse that I write this. It is my hope that parents who entrust their children to teachers, who truly care, will demand a change to the recklessness that ensues when there is absolute power.  Change begins with one small voice, but if all who have been blindsided rally and join voices, maybe, just maybe, the cry to change will be heard and blindsides will never be allowed again. 

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

ELA curriculum needs a serious thrashing!

I teach juniors in high school. I teach literature. Our curriculum is laid out so that we teach how poets and writers of prose dealt with death. I have students who could write their own stories, and in my classes, they have. I have shared with them my connection to Julian Ross, and if you don't know his story, google him. My students and I have followed this wonderful, funny little mista, who has taught my kids, and me so much more than standard tests can assess, in 3 months about living. Dickinson is lovely and important, Uncle Walt is profound. My students are creating raps, from the heart that bring tears to my eyes. Take that, Common Core! Take that, Pearson, Holten-McGraw Hill. To my colleagues, "Teach like your hair was on fire!"