#letthemwalk

Today another blow came with regards to the graduation debacle with Waukesha School District. I found out that a student was sent an email by their teacher advising them that since some of their school fees were waived instead of 'paid', they were no longer eligible to purchase their iPAD from the school.

What.
The.
Hell?

How is that even a thing and why is it even a thing?  Also, when was this communicated to anyone?

I don't get a society that is okay with this.  I mean, I believe it. And I know that there are so many who think, here she goes again....blah blah blah....but I don't care.

I don't get it.

Please hear me. I know that the fees and debt exists. Getting Wisconsin to change how fees are assessed and why the fees are so high in some districts is another battle for another day. I understand that currently fees are high and they are the responsibility of the parents or guardians of graduating seniors.

Fine.

But how and why was that chosen to be used to deny students the privilege and honor of participating in their graduation ceremonies?  Of celebrating that day, despite their financial situation, with their peers and having the pride that comes from taking that tassle and crossing it over their cap?

Who.
The.
Hell?

Which school board members thought this was a good idea?  Who thought, 'I know how we can get those people to pay!!! Let's keep their kids not just from their diploma but also from their ceremony!'  Did someone actually think that suddenly a family struggling to pay their fees or catch up from fees that were behind===would say, 'Oh here's $500, I just didn't feel like paying it!'

No. If you don't have it, you don't have it. You can't get blood out of a turnip.  You not only have the stress of financial obligations you can't meet....now you have to explain to your child that they have to miss this celebration of their accomplishment!! Who of them sleeps at night?  They should all be ashamed.

Why.
The.
Hell?

So back to that email.  Why?  Why is that happening?  Those iPAD's are not the highest quality and some of the students actually have older models that aren't worth shit anyway. The student was given permission to purchase it for $25 at the end of the school year. Then, today, recieves an email that she no longer can because she had fees waived.  Why does a teacher know that anyway?  What happened to privacy?  Does staff need to know who has fees waived and who doesn't?

I'm disappointed.

I'm disappointed in the district, in the school board.

I'm disappointed at how many people left comments on different social media posts talking about families who might owe fees.....

Calling them leeches.
Calling them welfare queens.
Calling them low lifes.
Calling them illegals.
Calling them thugs.
Calling them lazy.

and some of those people claim to be Christians.

No.

The message of Jesus is love. And doing for the least of these. And helping the powerless. Giving voice to the voiceless. Standing up for those that are unseen. Reminding the pharisees the error of their ways.

The seniors in Waukesha being denied this privilege needs to matter to you. I'm not saying that you need to donate (but it'd be great if you want to) but you do need to understand. And make others aware. And think about how this impacts a young life for the years to come.

Owing fees does not mean you are poor and indignant.
and it is not a reflection of some character flaw.
Just as having wealth is not a reflection of character.

I'm going to a graduation on June 9th, thanks to numerous people who helped make it possible. And I'm not going to shut up about how we can get many many more the same opportunity if we just keep spreading the word and donating!!!

https://www.gofundme.com/let-them-walk


#letthemwalk

Filling my Head.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. And quite honestly stressing.  Very likely what led to my brief stay in the ER the other day. I am trying to stay calm and peaceful, I am. My brain flows between my family and their well being, a personal financial burden, financial burdens of Waukesha seniors, school shootings, racism, people's ignorance of their neighbors and lack of ability to see beyond themselves, loss.  Someone asked me recently how I became this way---someone who speaks up, pursues justice and is okay standing alone. I let them know that I have no clue. I've been that way for a long time.

It's much sometimes.

What's been monopolizing a lot of my mind and heart lately is the new stance Waukesha South School District is planning to enforce this year. If a senior student owes any fees to the district, they will not be allowed to participate in their graduation ceremony.  I guess one of the three high schools has already been doing this, but now all three will be doing so. Since a news interview a mom and I did for TV and a local grass roots newspaper ran an article, the district is doing a little dance through their PR person by saying 'oh, no, no...nobody has ever not crossed the stage'....but the bottom line is that I am aware of ACTUAL families, living and breathing humans who have not been told this isn't so.  They've been told, and in written form in March 2018, that if they owe fees their senior will not cross the stage.

I don't understand it.
I'm not surprised by it. But I don't understand it.
And I understand even less, how so many folks do not think that this is an issue.
In fact, there's some folks that say this is a good lesson for the student to have to face the real world.
What the actual fuck.

I don't have the positivity to say that at some point we lost our way.  I'm not convinced we ever had it.

This country and even this local community pretends to be for the people. Pretends like a 6 year old playing make believe. It's so real to them that at some point others might even begin to buy in.

I don't want to ramble anymore than I already have while try to spell out a cohesive argument with eloquent words...so I'm just going to assemble my thoughts in a list. Maybe you already agree with the idea that high school seniors should be allowed to participate in their graduation ceremonies regardless if their families are unable to pay all of their fees prior to the ceremony.  Maybe you can't understand why so many of us would pool our resources together so that we can make a way for these same students to cross the stage.  Either way, I hope this list might make you stop and think.


1. The first FREE tax payer public school began in 1639. By 1870, all northern states had tax funded public elementary schools. Read up on what happened to public schools during the depression. No Child Left (NCLB) was signed into law in 2002 but by 2012 more than half of the states were granted waivers because they were unable to successfully meet the requirements of NCLB as it was. Since then, from what I've read and experienced and seen...things have been a mess.  This does not fall fully on the schools of course. Budget cuts and states refusal to value education tie the hands of the districts. Tax payers want lower taxes. And so that is often at the expense of the school. Ask any out of work teacher or current teacher who is using their own money to supply their classroom.  How great is the divide in this country that there are some states that public education is free and other's where the fees are incredibly high.

2. We've made human issues into partisan issues. I understand that on a 'ideology level' there are partisan differences in how we might tackle education and the great divide that currently exists in our country. But. If we all stop for a moment and just think. With both our heart and head....how could anyone say that they didn't want a child to receive a quality education?  How could anyone say that they didn't want their neighbor to achieve and grow and have?  How could anyone say that a child should be financially responsible for their own primary and secondary education? (that's roughly K5-8th grade for those that aren't aware)  I've read comments that the seniors at Waukesha high schools will learn a good lesson if they have to pay for their school. I can agree with that for college. I don't care how many ways you try to spin it---it is unacceptable in this country with the resources and money we have---to suggest that a 18 year old whose family might have financial struggles, should then become responsible for debt that occurred when they were a child.

3. This is not a race issue. This is an economic issue. Because there are struggling folks of all colors.  When the news station or a news paper questions might this be an issue of discrimination the answer is yes. But not racial discrimination. I saw a comment on a social media site telling people to stop making it a race issue. Um. Nobody was. There is a lot of ways to discriminate.  So that tells me that person didn't read the article and is assuming what it's about or that tells me that person might think the only folks that financially struggle are non white. So if we are saying it's discrimination we must be saying it's racially discriminatory. No.

4. There are all kinds of reasons that families might struggle to pay school fees. This does not make them freeloaders or 'bad' people. Having financial fluidity and freedom is not the only marker of character. If you have never struggled--then you might not be able to understand how it might happen that a student's fees might accumulate.  But I can tell you first hand that they can. And sometimes you are in the position to make the payments so that you catch up. And sometimes you can't. It's easy to toss out judgement and interrogation. It's harder to give what you might have to give when you want to keep it for yourself. It's harder to see need and want to do something about it. It's harder to decide that even if it's not your responsibility--you are going to step in and step up and not just help, but handle.  It is truly carrying someone else's burden.  So all ya'll Jesus lovers should REALLY be all over that.

Somehow I feel better spelling it all out, clearing it out of my heart and head. Hopefully this will help me sleep a little better.

Tomorrow is a new day.

My Momma

I know this day is hard for so many

My own momma included

Because I know she misses her own momma so.

But I wanted to make sure that 

I took some time today

to let her know

What she means to me

Why we all love her so

She was always there

When we needed her

I can't remember a time

That she wasn't.

Even in disappointment

In frustration

She stood by and loved

She showed up and stayed. 

From her I learned how to 

Be prepared and think of the details

How to make others comfortable

And stick to a plan

How to make your husband's lunch

How to make your children laugh

How to smile when you need to

And remember there's good after bad

I learned to work hard

Not to take things for granted

To appreciate and step up

And not to wait to be asked

To make each day count

To take a deep breath

That sometimes we roll with the punches

And have to learn how to embrace.

As a grandma she's amazing

and hilarious

Man she loves our kids

She reminds me of her mom

Telling stories more than once

Learning all the new lingo

but also teaching us all her own.

Thank you Linda for being a mom

I am blessed to celebrate today

You are special and loved.

One of kind

And I'll always be grateful 

That you are mine.

Stories from a Momma Bear (and wife) #5

Today on our way back from Iowa...we stopped to get gas at a nowhere little gas station in a nowhere little town. We've stopped there once before so it's a little familiar to us. But I know that we aren't familiar to them.

We pulled up to the gas pump and my son hopped out to go in and use the restroom and look for a snack. My husband got out to start pumping the gas. I'm quickly throwing on my shoes and jumping out of the car. Looking to my son heading in the gas station. Looking at my husband running the credit card in the pump. And I look around the parking lot taking surveillance of the patrons around us. Door. Son. Gas Pump. Husband. 

I feel a sense of panic. And I feel frozen. And I stood between the car and the store---making odd small talk with my husband--with one eye on my son now walking into the gas station---until he is pumping the gas and there is no more odd small talk to make and I head into the gas station. And I have somewhat bated breath until we are all in the store together figuring out what snacks we want and then heading to the car together. 

The day before?  My husband and I stopped for gas heading to Missouri...same kinda gas station...same kinda town. And we got out of our car at the same time that a man got out of his car on the other side of the pump. I see him glance. Once. Twice. And I hover. I hover around the car until my husband starts to pump the gas and he and the man are making a little small talk. Then I breathe and I enter the gas station. 

I let my husband and son know that how I hate being at gas stations and they separate. Because I want to stay at the pump with my husband. And I want to go in the gas station with my son. I want to see and hear if anything crazy pops off. I want to intervene if someone says something horrible. I want to be near if any officers show up. I want to keep them safe. 

I know that none of us can guarantee another person's safety...so I'm asking you to refrain from sharing the stranger danger kind of 'I know just how you feel' stories. 

I could list names upon names upon names and show videos upon videos that would curl your stomach and make your heart ache....of men, women and children being murdered by the police, by everyday citizens....and there would be so very, very few who paid any kind of legal consequence because of their actions. And there would be person after person, comment after comment of the many many justifying reasons and excuses that they deserved to die or they somehow brought it on upon themselves.

I could.

But I'm too tired.

Because you see...I have a husband and sons to keep alive.

And the reality is that I can't. 

And the reality is also that some days....some days that weighs so heavy in the deepest part of my heart that I just don't have the desire to verbally spar with others or help you understand.  I don't have the patience to reassure you that yes, I know there are good officers and I know there are nice white people and yes, my mom  is white and no, I haven't forgotten that means I'm white too. I don't have the heart to 'stand strong' and face adversity with 'peace and a desire for harmony' although I do understand your need to remind me of those things. I don't have the stomach to listen to one more MLK quote or the many suggestions of very nice and sweet pacifist ways to make a point without belittling others. I don't have energy to let you know what you can do to step up--figure it the fuck out yourself. 

Because you see....I have a husband and sons to keep alive.

And the reality is that I can't.  

Because if they

walk down the street,

play at a playground,

buy a hot CD,

wear a hoodie,

listen to their music too loud,

have a tail light out,

stop for directions,

seek help after a car accident,

enter our home,

they could be shot.

They could die.

And if that bullet comes?  There is absolutely I can do to stop it.  But I will 100% die trying.

Love, what if?

Love.
What if love isn't pretty
it isn't roses

What if love isn't sweet

it isn't soft

and it isn't meant
to be about
what we think or
what we wish
and what we pray for

It's messy
and ugly
and wandering
and lost.
It's rainy
and windy
and covering
the ground.
It's up
and it's down
and it
rarely is still.
It's more than my imagination
can begin to dream
It's more than my heart
can bear to feel

The man on the cross...
He loved
and we claim to be about
the love that he was
but
we aren't.
we judge and we fret
and we look away
we run when it's hard
and we hide our own pain

we ignore more than we listen
we avoid more than we face
I wonder if pretty and sweet
would make us feel
more willing and able
to be about the love
that he so freely gave

what if we set down
our own agenda
and instead looked
out
around
in
and embraced all the
good things
there are in our sight.

people
with stories
not like our own
and places
that seem strange
and far from home
but those
people and places
are where we must start
extending ourselves
as we begin to love.

when your soul begins to feel
and your tears are mixed
with heartache and joy
you are loving

and when you feel the warmth

of tenderness

even through your pain

you are being loved

and it may not be
what you thought
because you aren't in control
and you don't get to choose

It's messy

and ugly

but also lovely and kind.

It's rainy

and windy

but will also blow your mind.

Love.

Stories from a Momma Bear #4

Some days are harder than others
when you see that look in other's eyes
That look that is hard to explain
to someone
who might not know
who doesn't see
what you see
but you know when you know.

So this basketball tourney
Had me feeling that way
With teams from the city
as well as around the way

The white people stare
just a little bit longer
Wrinkle their noses
And give
that look.

But surrounded by folks who don't believe
the look is real
I mean get out of your feelings
don't you know that color doesn't
matter
and people are just people
and if you always make it
about race
it's you.
not them.

So my son might seem safe
in a school where he's one of a few
black kids on the team
with all the white parents who love
them so.
and don't know the look.

But as we approach the next court
 i see in the ref
that look.
up and down.
unsettled.
toward my son
who is loud and funny
full of spirit and fire
he backs down for noone
and he likes that just fine.

and i know that he knows
the look oh so well
he's in 8th grade and wise
he doesn't pretend.

The game begins.
every foul is his.
and i see this ref muttering
narrowing his eyes
and his gaze
does not deviate
as my son begins to dominate
and his whistle can't
blow fast enough

My son does his thing
but i am watching the ref
watch my son
and i am waiting.
Because now every foul
comes with a lecture
My son turns it up
Because that is his nature
He's tossing up 3's
since he's making a few
And I hear the rumbles
of parents beginning to wonder
why does that ref
seem to just not like my son.

A dad gets upset that he keeps
talking to my son
And he's wondering out loud
what it's all about
I try to explain
What I think it's is
but of course
that's too much,
of course that's not it.
but it's escalating
and my son is getting mad
i know his body language
i know when it's bad

Then the whistle blows and
he runs to my son
he's muttering something and
then starts to run
to the scorekeepers table
and my son is pissed
as he runs to the bench

I start to get up
they bought to learn today
but a dad steps in and tells me to stay
(believe that's another story for another day)
But i'm much too pissed so i let him go
and 'save the day'

My son looks at me
and i know.
i don't need that dad
having his 'man to man'
with the referee
to come back and tell me
what he 'discovered' just now
cuz my sons know the look
and they know that i know

So it seems
that all through the game
when my son gets a 3
he put up his hands
maybe you've seen it
in the NBA?
index finger to thumb
and a bump to the chest?

So the referee tells my son
'Hey, no gang signs in here.'
And my son told him that
he didn't know what he was talkin 'bout.

This went on a few more times until the last straw
When he kicked my son out of the game
for refusing to stop
putting up the gang signs
that were not.

So i ask this dad
what did he say
and he said that he told the ref
Oh know, i know that kid
and he's not  that way
but he understands his perspective
 and can appreciate.

My eyes met my sons.
and i looked to the dad,
and all the other folks up in the stands.
'Yea that doesn't cut it.
Not what I'm about.
Ya'll can think what you want
I already know what it's about.

So I find who's in charge
and give them the info
Then i get back in the gym.
And confront the ref
with many of the parents
giving disapproving looks
why am i so so much
why can't i leave well enough alone
I mean really,
can't we all just get along.

No we can't.

because my son knows that look
and he knows that i know
and it's my job to step up
so that he can always believe
that we don't let the look slide
we face every stage
And even when alone
we are alone but brave.

I don't know if that day
more people could see
that the look is real
and maybe believe.
I no longer worry
about what you believe
about the look
or me
doing the most


It might not be the way for most
Some might prefer more tact and hope
that i would smile and take it in
and not assume the look is real.

I love all my kids
and i can tell you this
i best not ever see
that look on your face
cuz you won't be pleased.

Misconceptions

I was talking with my coworkers the other day about our weary. We were discussing some of the families we work with; brainstorming ways to engage parents, encouraging each other to have that hard conversation and mostly just being there to listen to each other.

It is a difficult job. And with all the experience and knowledge I bring from 20+ years in a variety of social service jobs, it might be the most intimate and difficult. We are with families---in the midst of crisis--entering their lives to help them figure out how to get it back on track---without taking control or telling them this is the RIGHT way to do it. 

Because, in reality, the program believes, and quite honestly I do personally believe, that there is no RIGHT way.

Most jobs that I've worked---from a residential home for developmentally delayed adults in the early 90s to W2 and foodshare in the late 90s to independent living for aging out foster youth in the early 2000s to a women and family short term shelter in the 2010s---all have led me to dispel misconceptions of others. This job is no different.

Any of the families that I work with could be your family. Could be my family. There is no special recipe of disaster that crisis or breakdown from mental health issues or trauma.

They are not with us because they are criminals.

They are not with us because they are not trying.

They are not with us because they are abusers.

They are not with us because they are hateful.

They are not with us because they are addicts.

They are not with us because they are unworthy.

Their common denominator is that there is a mental health or behavioral health diagnosis and as a cause it is affecting an area of the youth's life. Education, socialization, family life, their health and well-being.  

Your family. My family.

It's so easy to judge.

Why don't they get a job.

Why don't they finish school.

Why don't they set them straight.

Why don't they

Why don't they

Why don't they.....

They are we.

Why don't we help.

Why don't we see.

Why don't we love.

Believe me, there are days when I can see the breakdown of a family blow up right before my eyes. 

A mom losing her cool and cussing out her daughter and all of us before walking out of a meeting because the truth is too hard to face.

A son showing out in court because he has to go to detention again for his anger, but anger is all he knows.

A dad who hasn't been involved-for a dozen different reasons-wanting to reconnect but nobody trusts that he means it this time.

A little girl getting suspended again for bullying, yet to her it's her only way to interact because the abuse she experienced has her so numb.

I just keep reminding myself....if I become weary from engaging with this familes life....how weary they must be from living it.  And many of the things they are experiencing, I've experienced. As a teen not being understood. As a young mom feeling lost. As a parent wondering if you've done all you can. Letting anger get the best of me. Hanging onto hurts. Pretending.

The truth is that

Sometimes situations suck.

Sometimes we are pissed.

Sometimes it is too much.

Sometimes it is our fault.

And while there is no RIGHT way to do it...there are right things we can practice doing.

Forgive.

Set boundaries.

Love.

Because another misconception is that the families I work with are a lost cause. That they will always be fractured and overwhelmed. That the mental health, behavioral concerns and trauma will forever permeate their ability to function in healthy and positive ways.

But.

Through forgiveness they, like all of us, can be released from the ugly that comes from holding on. From reliving and reminding. From being free.

Through boundaries they, like all of us, can have control over what they allow in their lives. We are only bound by what we allow. We make those choices.

Through love they, like all of us, can find restoration, acceptance, self worth. We can see glimpses of goodness, light and hope.

Who do you need to forgive today?

Where do you need to set boundaries?

How can you be about love?

Because, dear one, you are they.

That's what I got today.