Pin the Tail on the Victim

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It’s rare that a news story makes me angry. But this one managed to get under my skin and infuriate me.

A teacher in California has been fired after her abusive and threatening ex husband showed up at her school, violating his restraining order. The school was forced to go into lockdown until the ex was apprehended by police.

After the incident, the private school put her on leave (and removed her children from the school) and refused to issue her a contract for the next school year. They cite their fears of the potential threat that the ex has to the students and faculty of the school once he is released from jail.

Deep breath.

I get the fear. It is extremely frightening to have an unstable person show up at the school, threatening students and faculty. I know. I’ve been there.

I’ve been there with the biological father with no parental rights shows up and tries to kidnap his daughter from the school cafeteria.

I’ve been there when the parent lashes out at the child in a conference, breaking his arm.

I’ve been there when the mom comes in to change the address of record to a battered women’s shelter and files the paperwork to remove the father from the approved pick up list.

I’ve been there as one who had to alert her principal to the possibility of an unstable ex showing up at the school. I felt so embarrassed and so ashamed having to tell my principal about my marital issues and making sure that the front office staff knew his name and what he looked like.

Schools are large organizations with hundreds if not thousands of people that come from all types of backgrounds. It’s only logical that domestic situations sometimes bleed into the school. It is a romantic notion to think that we can insulate our schools from this sort of episode, but unless we remove all of the people – faculty and students – from the school, it is an impossibility.

From everything we know about this particular story, the teacher did everything right. She divorced him, secured a restraining order and alerted the school when he threatened to approach her there.

Yet the school pinned the tail on her.

I worry about the message implied in the school’s response. It may encourage the abused to not seek help. To stay quiet. To stay a victim. By firing her, the school reinforced the ex husband’s power. They may have gussied up their threats on letterhead and refrained from foul language, but they are just as abusive by punishing someone asking for help.

It’s time to stop blaming those who try to get out. To get help. To speak out. Let’s pin the tail on the real asses.

 

The End.

Posted on by stilllearning2b

You would think that I would be used to endings by now. I finish several books a week, following the tales to their final word. I run races, keeping my eye on the finish line. My weekdays are filled with bells that signal the end of a class period seven times a day. I’ve been through 29 last days of school – some as a student, some as a teacher and a few as both. Hell, even my blog is about an end.

So why do endings, even the ones I look forward to, still manage to feel abrupt? Too soon? A premature conclusion reached before resolution?

This past Friday was the last day of school with kids. I had been waiting for that day, counting down since the end of the spring testing season. Many days, it felt like the end would never come. The days felt longer, the children squirrelier.

But then, that final bell did ring.

As I watched those faces pull away in the school buses for one last time, I felt a loss. For the past nine months, I have laughed and cried with those kids. I have driven them crazy and they have driven me crazier. I’ve struggled to help them make sense of algebra and we have struggled together to make sense of tragedy. For nine months, those 120 teenagers are part of my extended family. And then they’re gone. I will never see or hear from most of them ever again. In one day, they go from constant presence to memory.

Eighth grade is a crossroads year. It is time when teenagers are beginning to develop themselves apart from their parents. They are learning to make choices and beginning to understand the nature of consequences. They try on different personas as often as outfits, going from class clown to teacher’s pet and back again in a blink of an. I call them 150 lb two-year-olds, as they test boundaries yet want to know that you’re still looking out for them. I see them develop over the year into more independent beings but I don’t get to see the conclusion. In May, many of them are still at a crossroads and I am unsure which path they will choose.

It often feels unfinished. I find myself, years later, wondering about certain students. Hoping they did okay yet fearing that they did not. I have to trust in them and relinquish any influence. Sometimes, I receive the gift of an update when former students track me down. It’s funny – I can see the echo of the eighth grader I knew in these adults, yet there are years of experiences that have shaped them after they left me. In some ways, they are frozen in time for me: middle school in perpetuum (now that’s a nightmare!).

I think we all struggle with endings, even those that we initiate or those which we welcome. Every ending has elements that we relish leaving behind and facets that we will miss. Every ending brings uncertainty and transition. Every ending requires a re-scripting and reappraisal as we disentangle ourselves from the past and set course for the future. Every ending has opportunity.

My school year begins with a list of names. Monikers with no faces, no personalities. My year ends with a list of names, as I file reports and stuff report cards. Only now these names have meaning. Visages. Character. The year may have ended, but its impact has not. Those nine months together have influenced us all regardless of what our collective futures hold.

We tend to see endings as a termination, a conclusion. Perhaps it more accurate to think of them as a transition, a sign of change. It may be over, but its reverberations carry forth.

Transistance

Posted on by stilllearning2b

transistance [tran′zis·təns]

(electronics)
The characteristic that makes possible the control of voltages or currents so as to accomplish gain or switching action in a circuit; examples of transistance occur in transistors, diodes, and saturable reactors.

McGraw-Hill Dictionary of Scientific & Technical Terms, 6E, Copyright © 2003 by The McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.

transistance [tran′zis·təns]

(psychology)

The characteristic of being resistant to transitions.

Me. Sometimes I feel the need to make up a new word or ascribe a new meaning to an established word in order to say what I want to say. This is one of those cases. Apologies in advance if that offends you.

Anyone involved with education is familiar with the enormous transitions from school to summer and then back again. As a teacher, I am involved with shutting down and then restarting an entire organization every year. It is a transition on a macro scale. Embedded within that transition, each person involved is also facing change. I see it in the rising freshmen in the spring and the incoming sixth graders in the fall. I see it on the faces of the parents as they witness their “babies” growing into maturity. I see it in the teachers as we adapt to new curriculum and new routines. It is an exciting and stressful time for all.

But why is it stressful? The coming of another school year and the aging of children are expected. Normal. So why the anxiety that bleeds into the buzz?

Transistance.

We so easily fall into the trap of thinking that the way things are now is the way they are always going to be. We might plan for tomorrow yet we see it from the perspective of today. That creates a friction between our psyches and the “now” that results in a resistance to change. We know transitions are inevitable yet it is difficult to imagine the biting wind of a winter storm while baking in the summer sun.

The only thing constant is change. Heraclitus

I did not used to be as aware of the affect that transitions had on me. I would find that I didn’t sleep as well or that my mind felt scattered, but I never really dug down into it. I am trying to be more mindful of the transitory periods in my life so that approach them proactively. I make sure to take a little extra time to be quiet: yoga, meditation, or a solo hike or run. I do a better job listening to my body even it that means going to bed before 9:00 p.m. I remind myself that the stress of transition is also temporary and that a new normal will once again be reached. I still experience transistance. We all do. But now I can face it with a smile.

How about you? Have you experienced any transitions lately? Did you have transistance? How do you cope with transitions?