The Problem We All Live With

Friends, can I share something with you? Something very near and dear to my heart? On my drive home today I finished up listening to this podcast and it just completely undid me.

It addresses one of our big issues: the problem of what we are all going to do (or not do) about that achievement gap in America's schools. Children of color are disproportionately losing out on a quality education in America. At grossly high rates. The title of the podcast, The Problem We All Live With, is appropriately borrowed from Norman Rockwell's painting of Ruby Bridges, bravely walking to her first grade classroom despite the hate, slurs, and violence in her way.

Here's my thing about this topic, really quickly, before you write this whole social-justice-nerd's case completely off.  Ira Glass (bless him), together with a guest reporter, tells the story of this age old problem. During the podcast, they play a recording of a town meeting in 2013, hosted by a school board, that is addressing one (predominantly white) community's outrage against students from a nearby poor, black district being allowed into their school. At one point, a white parent takes the microphone and uses her time addressing the school board to say something like: "THIS ISN'T ABOUT RACE. THIS IS ABOUT VALUING EDUCATION." And there's my thing.

Have you noticed that? Have you noticed that the mantra THIS ISN'T ABOUT RACE always happens to come from a white person? I've heard this time and time again in my own life, in my own circles. Hey, before I knew better, I would say that! But now I know better, so I can't leave it at that. I hear the response over and over: "Oh, stop making this all about race. It's just perpetuating the problem if you talk about it. Let's get past it for once and stop pulling that card."And just like that, centuries of hurt are brushed aside as if they don't exist.

You know what I hear when I hear someone tell me that a public education equality issue has nothing to do with race? I have a vivid flashback to a certain movie called Mean Girls (you may have heard of it). Regina George, the ultimate queen bee, the recipient of all her high school's social privilege, stands up in the middle of a crowded auditorium of her fellow female classmates and says, "Can I just say that we don't have a clique problem at this school? And some of us shouldn't have to take this workshop, because some of us are just victims in this situation." And everyone in attendance rolled their eyes at her ignorance. She didn't see the issue. Why should she? She had only benefitted from those messed up social systems. My hope is that we can expect better from ourselves. My hope is that we can listen our way out of ignorance.

I don't want to be that person who says "Not me! Not my issue! Not my problem!" Let's not be blinded by privilege. I know I was for a long time. It was only when I set my pride aside, stopped getting defensive, and started listening that I could start to get a grasp on what is going on in this country of ours, particularly in our schools. After I listened, my eyes were opened to the truth that so many of our brothers and sisters live out every day.

Will you give it a chance? Take about 45 minutes in the next week or so and try it out. The link is below.

Let's not settle for not knowing. Let's not live in ignorance. Let's know better.

http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/562/the-problem-we-all-live-with

Spiritual Amnesia

I've known many people who suffer from amnesia, dementia, Alzheimer's, or something of the sort throughout my life. The affliction of forgetfulness in the most cruel and confusing ways. It's affected my family and friends; how terrible for them, we all say, that this has happened. But I've come to believe over the past couple of years that I suffer from it too, in my own way. I have Spiritual Amnesia of the worst kind.

Let me begin by telling you some things I know to be true, deep down to the insides of my bones: God takes care of me. God helps me through the challenges of my life. God has never and will never let me down. These are the facts.

God proves these facts to me time and time again. He has put friends, people, circumstances, opportunities, blessings, and too-good-to-be-true-coincidences directly in my path time and time and time again.

 I was feeling lost and directionless during my senior year of college, wanting to do meaningful work but not knowing where to start. He put Teach for America on my radar and I sailed through the three-month application and interview process, disbelieving that I kept getting promoted to the next round time after time.

I was feeling lonely and weird when I lived in a new city in a new apartment. He put friends, roommates, an amazing church, and family right in my way to surround me with intelligent, talented, kind people. 

I was feeling sick of the dating game and so over the ups and downs of heartbreak after heartbreak. He put Brian Edward Whartnaby in my life, completely out of the blue, for the last first date of my life.

I felt defeated and burned out from teaching at a charter school in CPS. He put connections and last-minute Skype interviews right in my path to bring me to a fantastic community and the amazing group of 24 kids that are in my class at Calvin Christian School. 

All of this has happened to me in the last few years! And that's only the big stuff! What about the little stuff?

What about finding my thoughtful, wise, and caring mentor at church? What about generous donors who funded a technology project I started for my classroom? What about the joy I find in cooking for the first time in my life? What about the new brothers and parents and relatives I gained when I joined Brian's family, and the love and support I feel from them? What about awesome trips I've gotten to take? What about the love and friendship of friends that continues to grow through the different stages of life? What about the encouraging phone calls from my dad that come at just the right time? What about the proud sight of a second grade Reader's Theater performance? What about my newfound ability to wake up at 5:00 a.m. on a consistent basis? What about finally having a school day that goes exactly as you planned it? What about the simple joy of seeing Brian working at the kitchen table when I come home from work each day? What about a sunny day with blue skies making for a crisp and perfect October day? 

What about all those things? They didn't just happen. They weren't coincidence. They were carefully orchestrated, put in my path to prove to me, yet again, that I am not alone or without help.

And yet, in spite of all of those things, I forget. I forget God.

I get bogged down in my work at school. At the fact that I am on my third year in a row of teaching a new grade-level, a new curriculum, and a new school. At the fact that I'm tired and weary down to my toes at the end of every day. At the fact that I feel guilty for being a walking zombie when I'm supposed to be a supportive, attentive spouse. At the piles of ignored laundry and dishes. At the fact that I haven't had energy to go on a run since the school year started. I get bogged down in it all. Even in my silly first world problems and superficial insecurities, I get bogged deeply down in the midst of it all and I forget. I forget all of those things that happened and more. I look up and ask God: Why don't you ever help me? Why don't you look out for me? Why am I always fending for myself? Why am I alone in this? I forget that God has always helped me; God has always come through.

And then it hits me. I have a lucid moment of awakened understanding in the middle of my complaining, exhaustion, and piles of papers: I am with you. I love you. I always take care of you. Don't you remember, Anna? Have you already forgotten?

This weekend I was with my mom's side of the family for a wonderful and rambunctious reunion. One of the best things about this side of the family is the life and memory of my cousin Nikki. She passed away 5 years ago from brain cancer, but was a big influence on all of our lives in lots of different ways. Her motto, which I was reminded of this weekend, was this: Trust in God. He will help you. Our family loves those words and remember them when we think of her.

Those words are simple to say, but hard to live. Nikki was someone who didn't forget things, especially not any one of her cousin's birthdays or what they got for Christmas last year. She had her own struggles to face, but she definitely didn't have the forgetful problem I have. Her words are hope for sufferers of Spiritual Amnesia like myself. Trust in God, Anna. He will help you!

He always has. He always will.

And don't you forget it. 

Ah.

These days I'm getting fingerprinted and renamed, unpacking and setting up, learning new curriculum and coworkers. I'm waiting in lines, filling out forms, and catching up with friends for the last few times before the new school year starts and it's all kind of hit me like a hurricane. Devotions, cleaning, and exercising have, of course, all been pushed aside (as I am so easily self-persuaded to do). Why the rush around like this, the false impression I give myself of self-importance to the point where I am out of touch with who I am and what I'm doing here? Maybe it's a first world problem, being caught up in a lot of schedule-y nonsense that keeps the main things from being the main things. I cringe at first-world-problems, that in my comfortable life I trip into a shallow view of the world so easily, but Jesus wasn't joking around with the bit about the camel and the eye of the needle, I suppose. I believe my comings and goings to be so earth shattering that I forget a trip to Target is a luxury and a meal at Chipotle is a delicacy when I really think about my life. Yet here I am, drowning in schedules and getting ready and running around.

And that's when it hits me.

Ah. Yes. Silly me. Psalm 46:10 of course.

The solution to my chaos? I need only to be still. 

In that stillness, I need to order my life after One who ordered the universe into existence before I  ever ditched a workout, ignored the laundry, or neglected to read the next passage in my Bible. Jesus Christ is Lord, and so it's all Good. God has it under control, and He has me. So my obedience is what comes next, naturally. Now the hard part is to just practice this sacred art.

Of Being Still.

Notes of a TFA-er: Halfway.

I've been waiting to say I'm halfway done with my first year of teaching (probably since my first day of teaching). Well, here it is: I'm halfway done with my first year! 

I can honestly tell you that this is the hardest thing I've ever done. It's been full of stress, frustration, a few failures, and a LOT of work. Between two classrooms, two co-teachers, two different groups of challenging 7 and 8-year-olds, new cultural norms, standardized test pressures, behavior management issues, home life challenges, grad school classes, and all the while facing the idea of becoming a teacher on the fly, I think it's fair to say that these past six months have been crazy for me. There were nights where I did not know how I would get up the next morning and do it all over again. I'm sure there will still be nights like that to come. I still do not feel like I'm a good teacher. This is not false modesty. It's honesty. I think I've come a long way since August 1st and will still keep (hopefully!) improving.

But. These past months of my new life have also been wonderful. The first half of this year has introduced me to an amazing opportunity to push myself, lean on God for each day, and learn about and from amazingly wonderful people I've never met before. I've made new friends, met new people, gone on new adventures, and had some great reunions with old friends. I get to live in a beautiful apartment in a beautiful city full of beautiful people. How lucky am I?

And, lest you still be tempted to look at me with approving pity in your eyes for the valiant sacrifice you think I am making, let me ask you a question: If this is the hardest thing I've ever done, is that a problem with my job or a problem with me, or even more: a problem with our American society? Don't get me wrong: I appreciate the support, prayers, and friendship so many people have given me. I do believe doing Teach For America has made me a tougher person, and has required of me a great deal of courage and perseverance. But this is my first 5 months in this cultural climate. I drive there in the morning, drive home at night, and still get to enjoy my education, family background, steady job, and sense of self. My kids live in this. They are SEVEN and EIGHT years old and live in the same environment that throws a vaguely (haha) competent, well-adjusted, and adequately intelligent college graduate into a whirlwind.  While to me it is a struggle, to my kids it is just another day. They don't drive away to their "real" lives at the end of the day and they don't pat themselves on the back for making it halfway through their second grade year. This isn't the hardest thing they've ever faced in their lives. To them, it is just life. And they have to deal with it. They have to hang in there. To me, that is really impressive. And brave.

This is what has struck me very strongly in this whole thing,  and we need a lot more than quasi-adequate teachers like me to spend time, talent, and passion on helping the situation. As I continue into the second half of this year I'm going to try to put myself in situations where I'm listening more than yelling, slowing down to understand more than rushing to move on, and loving more than controlling. My kids deserve it. 

Transition

This post might seem a tad melancholy, and it is a little bit, but is not meant to be completely that way. Just more reflective. Today was spent going over lots of HR information, e-mailing with Teach For America AND Dominican University people about my licensing classes, and perplexing over how to set up my classroom with my co-teacher. It's that third thing that made me kind of do a double-take of my own self today.

I did a double-take because there I was, in a classroom with my co-teacher, who is extremely professional and good at what she does, and I felt like a big faker. Like I didn't have what it takes and that I couldn't shoulder my half of the work in making this first grade classroom a successful place. Sometimes I feel like a faker in this whole post-grad world in general. I feel like I'm actually still 14 years old and just masquerading as an adult. In this new apartment, driving my Volkswagen down new streets, attending new churches, and starting a new job. I feel like I have to overcompensate sometimes and be all, "Yeah! I'm totally great and I'm loving it and I'm really good at what I do and I'm on this adventure that is exciting and cool!" While all of those feelings are true sometimes, sometimes they're not. Sometimes I'm tired and feeling sick from 4 hours of sleep a night. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed. Sometimes I feel inadequate beyond measure. Sometimes I hate that I can't park wherever the heck I want to park. Sometimes I wonder why I haven't just called it a night on this whole Chicago thing and thrown in the towel. Sometimes I wonder if I'll be good at this teacher thing at all. Or good at this being-an-adult thing at all. I think that's the biggest one that weighs on me. 

But there are other times too. It's all mixed up, really. There are other times where I feel great about who I am and what I'm doing. 

Today during our HR session all the new hires were together so we had to introduce ourselves, where we are from, and something that we are proud of. I had a moment of happiness when I had to think of all the things I'm proud of because I have many. I'm proud of graduating college. I'm proud of my English degree. I'm proud of being accepted into Teach For America and being hired by a charter school right after graduation. I'm proud of my friends. I'm really proud of my family. I'm proud of the people I love. I'm proud of how I put myself out there with people, even if it's gotten me hurt from time to time. I'm proud of being hurt by others and still being optimistic anyway. I'm proud of my sixth grade summer-schoolers. I'm proud of being a small-town midwestern girl. I'm proud of my faith. I'm proud of moving to a new city by myself and starting adulthood this year. 

Maybe that's how it's supposed to be in those transition times. The good and the bad stuff. The doubts that you have and the...we'll call them the prouds that you have. I'm still strapped for cash and racking up quite the debt with the Bank of Brian and Kathy. I'm still really scared when I think of my lack of experience at my job. And I'm still a little overwhelmed when I feel like I'm going through this alone. But I'm also hopeful, excited, and proud too. Maybe I have to find that balance between being proud of who I am and what I can do while also using my lack of experience as a motivator to work my tail off to try and try and try until I get things right. 

I know eventually I'll get some things right. I know that every truly good thing comes with a price. And I know that every time I grow or get something to work out, it hurts a little (even a lot) at first on the way to get there. And I know, parking tickets and rent checks in tow, everything will work out in the end. At least that's what I believe. So with that, right now I'm going to live in the tension between the doubts and the prouds and work as hard as I can to make them even out. 

Perspective

Graduation has passed, and life is moving on along. Between my full-time job of official American Idol and Dancing With the Stars commentator with my parents (don't you dare judge me), I am beginning to actually check things off the list in preparation for my job at a charter school and Teach For America. I've been neglecting THE LIST for some time now, and it needed to be addressed now that finals are through.

But a rabbit trail first. Okay. Sue me if you disagree, whatever. But is it just me or did American Idol get way softer? All the judges are big gummy teddy bears and never say anything remotely critical other than, "Yo dawg, for me...it was aiggght." Since when did RANDY become the BAD GUY? That is the worst they can come up with. What happened to the days of Simon bringing a girl to tears for hitting a wrong note, then crossing his arms over his skin-tight t-shirt in disgust at her emotional weakness? In tonight's episode I heard like eighty flat pitches and a bunch of lyric mess-ups and nothing. Nada. Zip. All sunshine and happiness from the panel of judges. Obviously, Steven Tyler has no idea what's going on around him anyway. But Randy and J-Lo, I'm disappointed! I mean, I'm all about positivity, but let's be honest when that chick doesn't hit her notes! It's okay to be honest! Okay, okay. I get it. Too much reality television for Anna. I need to find a book. 

Back to THE LIST of shtuff. (I like to say it shtuff...sounds more Yiddish to me. Why that matters to a non-Jew like myself? Not sure.) There is THE LIST of to-do items. I've dedicated myself to jumping through these flaming hoops with thorough, punctual efforts. I take great pride in jumping through said hoops with little complaint. But. Then yesterday happened. I hit a wall.

For a solid 5 hours straight, I worked through financial plans, background checks, fingerprinting, online HR websites that malfunctioned for the 6th time, exchanging long e-mails with Frank from customer support at said HR website, HMOs, PPOs, retirement plans, apartment searching, roommate hunting (....anyone? anyone? Bueller?), transcript ordering, e-mail responding, and hair-ripping-outing.

Blech. I was ready to barf. Then it turned out that I had to spend today driving 2.5 hours each way to Chicago for a 15 minute meeting with a guy who took my fingerprints.

But. Alas. This is life. 

Life is annoying sometimes. Life is messy. Life puts you through four different voicemail systems and hangs up on you at the end of the 20-minute muzak track. Life makes you navigate through construction zones to find no-tow parking lots in the city. Life makes you wait in line at the DMV. Life has details that you just need to man up and figure out. Life is full of this stuff (shtuff, if you will). And it is only the beginning for me, especially as a newbie in both the adult world and education world. I've thought about how I got overwhelmed yesterday morning since it happened and got sort of disappointed in myself for getting so frustrated at the annoying details. I've come up with two solutions for myself, and they've worked well for me in the last 48 hours.

Solution 1: GO TO SLEEP.

My favorite activity, ever. This is always helpful. After sleeping on anything I have more clarity. It's great to get distance from whatever you're contemplating in order to sort it out. Sleep has a beautiful way of taking the edge off of angry arguments, tedious bureaucracies, and stressful workloads. It just helps. If sleep is not an option, of course, I have another for you.

Solution 2: GET PERSPECTIVE.

Take one minute. One single minute. Back it up. And remember why you are doing what you are doing. Why you are living your life and who you are living it for. I did this today whilst stuck in traffic. It was wonderful. Why am I running around like a crazy zombie trying to get fingerprints, apartments, budgets, credit cards, direct deposit, benefit packages, and eight million e-mails all accomplished? Because I am blessed to have a job that will teach me not only about myself and others but how I can use my abilities to love and help a broken world. Simple as that. When I remember that, I get perspective. I take one minute to remember WHY the heck I'm doing what I'm doing, and it's all a whole lot simpler. And happier. Of course living in the moment is wonderful (here is a big reason why), but the big-picture perspective is necessary for those individual moments to be enjoyed. In order to not get bogged down and drown in the details, you need to always stay afloat on your noodle of perspective. (See how I worked that metaphor in there? Yeah, I have a Bachelor's in English. That's what I'm using it for.) That one minute of perspective changed my attitude for the next few hours.

I laughed at my laptop when I read this. What great perspective. 

Obviously, nobody lives stress-free. This stuff happens. But I want to do my best to lead a life of joy, even in the midst of the little crap that I'm tempted to allow to bother me. And when all else fails, of course, I think I'll just take a nap.