Christmas this year was a symbolic event with dad and mom gone. Thoughts flitted in and out as preparations were made and invitations extended for our holiday gathering. Family and friends were invited -- I was so excited for it to arrive!
Christmas dishes were unpacked, the collection of Santas decorated shelves and counters, and the Nativity was set up on the table next to the fireplace: we were ready! I held my mother's stocking briefly and then tucked it into the box with the ornaments I no longer display. It made me wonder what other differences this holiday might bring.
A few days shy of Christmas, one of my sons had to rearrange time with his father. On the 24th, the eldest explained he wanted to spend Christmas day with his girlfriend's family and another anxiously watched the clock because his girl expected him later on Christmas eve. My sweetheart planned to spend Christmas afternoon with his grandchildren and my brother had Christmas dinner plans with a friend. And that is how I found myself alone on Christmas afternoon for the first time since ... since ... for the first time!
You know, it wasn't bad. Sophie and I hung around and napped, had some chicken soup and watched TV and napped some more. All I could think about was how much fun we had on Christmas eve! The loud and playful gifting and games and conversations lasted late into the night. When things finally began to wane, people gathered up their holiday spirit and headed back into their lives with a hug and a smile.
After our friends left on Christmas eve, I sat contentedly snuggled against Randy and marveled at change in all of its magnificent forms. Life seems to have arrived on our doorstep this year! It didn't resemble past Christmases, not at all, but I liked it just as well.
Next year, and in the years ahead, I will open the door and enjoy the merry chase!
Dec 26, 2007
Charter Renewal Letter to the Board
Esteemed colleagues,
I am a new employee of this school but have worked in a public high school for fourteen years. Something is going on here that needs to be brought to your attention.
Students are thriving here. There are very few acts of aggression, very few thefts, and very few emotional outbursts. Students smile and walk with purpose through these halls, on their way from and to someplace they are proud to be. Their requests in the front often involve replacement IDs and inquiries about where to sign up for community service. I hear please and thank you all the time.
Attention is paid to these students and it clearly shows. You've witnessed a tiny bit of it at the Board Meetings. It's pretty great to watch parents and grandparents stand up alongside their students, teachers and principals and take time from their busy lives so you can hear first hand what a difference this school has made. Community business people and church leaders have joined the refrain: this school matters. Enthusiasm is high as we embrace the new concept of community culture and personal accountability.
I hope you see with unbiased eyes what is going on here. Teachers work hard and thrive. There is a depth of commitment here among the support staff. We work late and attend weekend events because we realize it isn't just teachers in the front of the room who carry the torch and it doesn't stop with the 4:00 bell.
I define success in terms of developing intelligent, independent thinkers who conduct themselves with integrity and honor. We are walking the walk, right here in the midst of a community where getting a hand up is rare. We listen and learn and dream and do. Isn't that really what Sacramento City Unified wants for all of its students?
Thank you for your time.
(The Charter was renewed for five years by a unanimous vote at the board meeting on Thursday, December 20, 2007.)
I am a new employee of this school but have worked in a public high school for fourteen years. Something is going on here that needs to be brought to your attention.
Students are thriving here. There are very few acts of aggression, very few thefts, and very few emotional outbursts. Students smile and walk with purpose through these halls, on their way from and to someplace they are proud to be. Their requests in the front often involve replacement IDs and inquiries about where to sign up for community service. I hear please and thank you all the time.
Attention is paid to these students and it clearly shows. You've witnessed a tiny bit of it at the Board Meetings. It's pretty great to watch parents and grandparents stand up alongside their students, teachers and principals and take time from their busy lives so you can hear first hand what a difference this school has made. Community business people and church leaders have joined the refrain: this school matters. Enthusiasm is high as we embrace the new concept of community culture and personal accountability.
I hope you see with unbiased eyes what is going on here. Teachers work hard and thrive. There is a depth of commitment here among the support staff. We work late and attend weekend events because we realize it isn't just teachers in the front of the room who carry the torch and it doesn't stop with the 4:00 bell.
I define success in terms of developing intelligent, independent thinkers who conduct themselves with integrity and honor. We are walking the walk, right here in the midst of a community where getting a hand up is rare. We listen and learn and dream and do. Isn't that really what Sacramento City Unified wants for all of its students?
Thank you for your time.
(The Charter was renewed for five years by a unanimous vote at the board meeting on Thursday, December 20, 2007.)
Dec 9, 2007
Trimming the Tree
I have given ornaments to the kids every year, something that represents a milestone or a new interest, places we've been and places we've lived. The original idea was for my sons to someday adorn their own trees with these ornaments that tells their story.
Our tree is a wonderfully large, lively assortment of Baby's First Christmases, ski trips, sports teams, first cars and travels. The ritual begins with an empty tree and boxes stacked on either side. One by one, memories emerge from the tissue: a football star, honor student, ski bum, little truck, Saguaro cactus, Disneyland train, graduation cap, beloved pet, and macaroni angel. Hand painted eggs and crystal snowflakes go high up in Loge, above wagging tails and inquisitive fingers. Darth Vader action figures and Gingerbread men bravely sit below. Box after box empties into our hearts the vivid memories of love that has defined and strengthened us.
I love to hold close these magical moments of the family in full action, and when I do I see again their hair fly in a soccer game or them scramble over a fire truck on a Scout outing. Ornaments have caught a bit of the sweetest and richest moments we have known.
It dawns on me now, as they adorn the tree and vie for attention, that for me the whole story is told in this way, all of it intermixed, my world. But for my sons, these ornaments are their starter pack, a prologue to a wonderful, eventful life ahead.
Merry Christmas, my loves.
Our tree is a wonderfully large, lively assortment of Baby's First Christmases, ski trips, sports teams, first cars and travels. The ritual begins with an empty tree and boxes stacked on either side. One by one, memories emerge from the tissue: a football star, honor student, ski bum, little truck, Saguaro cactus, Disneyland train, graduation cap, beloved pet, and macaroni angel. Hand painted eggs and crystal snowflakes go high up in Loge, above wagging tails and inquisitive fingers. Darth Vader action figures and Gingerbread men bravely sit below. Box after box empties into our hearts the vivid memories of love that has defined and strengthened us.
I love to hold close these magical moments of the family in full action, and when I do I see again their hair fly in a soccer game or them scramble over a fire truck on a Scout outing. Ornaments have caught a bit of the sweetest and richest moments we have known.
It dawns on me now, as they adorn the tree and vie for attention, that for me the whole story is told in this way, all of it intermixed, my world. But for my sons, these ornaments are their starter pack, a prologue to a wonderful, eventful life ahead.
Merry Christmas, my loves.
Dec 1, 2007
AIDS Day
Today is a pretty significant day for anyone who has lost or is losing someone they love to AIDS. It's an insidious disease, hard to diagnose, hard to fight, hard to survive. AIDS deeply touches us at the root of who we are and how we survive.
When frantic AIDS headlines splashed across the news and we thought it was a Gay disease, a friend of mine's father had the misfortune of needing surgery. It was the early 1980s, and during the procedure he needed two pints from the local blood bank. He was an attorney, a heterosexual family man and strong Catholic whose daughter had to call me one day to say he had AIDS.
How is that possible, I demanded? Her explanation was incredible: we hadn't responded quickly enough to protect the blood and it hadn't been screened for AIDS. Her dad: the quiet man who warmly hugged us as we dashed through their lives during our college dorm years; the husband who adopted three children to give them love and a better life. There was not even hope to cling to.
My friend and I had our babies in the mid '80s and often talked. I would cuddle my boys on my lap as she talked of placing hers in her father's arms as he became increasingly too weak to hold them. She was taking pictures.
I was afraid for her, for them, and shared my worries. How she could be sure AIDS wasn't transmitted casually? She told me she had to believe because she needed to see her children with their Grandfather as much as their Grandfather needed to have them there. I was inspired by her love for her father and ashamed for not knowing if I could make the same choice. That was the first face of AIDS I saw.
My best friend in high school was flambuoyantly, enthusiastically, wholly gay. He was warm and tender, smart, good looking, wonderfully funny, and a talented artist. There were months and years we were inseparable, and years after high school when we were not, but our friendship remained strong.
AIDS took him on in the 80s, and began its slow compromising of his immune system but it didn't take him down. A tecchie guy before it was in vogue, he made his living in a variety of ways until poor health got the better of him. He existed the last 10 years or so on Disability, participating in the Gay Olympics in Pool and bettering the lives of others in the ways that mattered. He passed away this year after fighting the good fight for 30 years.
It's nearly Christmas. What I want this year is for the most brilliant minds funded by the most wealthy countries to throw out the political barriers and channel their energies toward an international, results-driven eradication of AIDS and CANCER. All over the world, day by day, we are diminished until then. I Believe.
When frantic AIDS headlines splashed across the news and we thought it was a Gay disease, a friend of mine's father had the misfortune of needing surgery. It was the early 1980s, and during the procedure he needed two pints from the local blood bank. He was an attorney, a heterosexual family man and strong Catholic whose daughter had to call me one day to say he had AIDS.
How is that possible, I demanded? Her explanation was incredible: we hadn't responded quickly enough to protect the blood and it hadn't been screened for AIDS. Her dad: the quiet man who warmly hugged us as we dashed through their lives during our college dorm years; the husband who adopted three children to give them love and a better life. There was not even hope to cling to.
My friend and I had our babies in the mid '80s and often talked. I would cuddle my boys on my lap as she talked of placing hers in her father's arms as he became increasingly too weak to hold them. She was taking pictures.
I was afraid for her, for them, and shared my worries. How she could be sure AIDS wasn't transmitted casually? She told me she had to believe because she needed to see her children with their Grandfather as much as their Grandfather needed to have them there. I was inspired by her love for her father and ashamed for not knowing if I could make the same choice. That was the first face of AIDS I saw.
My best friend in high school was flambuoyantly, enthusiastically, wholly gay. He was warm and tender, smart, good looking, wonderfully funny, and a talented artist. There were months and years we were inseparable, and years after high school when we were not, but our friendship remained strong.
AIDS took him on in the 80s, and began its slow compromising of his immune system but it didn't take him down. A tecchie guy before it was in vogue, he made his living in a variety of ways until poor health got the better of him. He existed the last 10 years or so on Disability, participating in the Gay Olympics in Pool and bettering the lives of others in the ways that mattered. He passed away this year after fighting the good fight for 30 years.
It's nearly Christmas. What I want this year is for the most brilliant minds funded by the most wealthy countries to throw out the political barriers and channel their energies toward an international, results-driven eradication of AIDS and CANCER. All over the world, day by day, we are diminished until then. I Believe.
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