My parish priest, Father John Mashburn, said something today that I think is worth repeating.
It was simple, his sermon, and eloquent as usual. Father said, "If you do a good work, forget about it, and move on to another good work."
Like I said, simply spoken but really a grand challenge. Especially if you're like me: I tend to be the type who remembers I'm a good Christian by the two dollars I gave to a homeless man two years back. Forget it, and move on...
27 February 2011
26 February 2011
I miss the things that are cold and rough.
Remember?
Pale ice on the sidewalks teaching you slow, steady,
snow down as soon as you clear it away-
two paces and the frozen gravel is shrouded again.
You learn to measure each stroke,
careful not to strip
the gravel drive.
not mud
not dripping
nor flat cement stretching
itself over all the earth in every direction, in every thought
slithering with trails of dank slush:
in its place
show me a field of corn stubble.
Show me a cow whose flared nostrils
leave a cloud of ashen smoke.
Or give me deep summer, even black Ohio muck,
I'm not afraid to sink
now.
Great-grandfather Ashley Reed in coveralls
and the hat Gran Olive knitted
starts creeping hitch-trudge, hitch-trudge
to the hen-house in his old, gray skin,
and I've already darted beneath the heavy boughs
of the old willow where he cuts our switches.
Not to hide,
no, Ashley's no old man winter,
his quick eyes move, younger than me,
to seek and wink. Eyes that have lost their color,
now so pale blue; you see
a stretch of snow in the evening,
an encroaching quiet.
"Expecting a storm, child,
come inside." An ancient sandpaper hand
encloses mine-
rough and cold.
When the wheelchair ramp goes in,
I slide down it, but keep waiting
for Grandfather to be standing at the door
telling me how to improve,
but he's inside with a flock of nurses
and I only know the chill,
deadly as she can be.
Now Memphis
is stone cold and statuesque,
dotted with Roman pillars
holding up churches. Holy places
reflecting homeless
vagabonds with apathetic eyes.
I see geese wheeling overhead
and am perplexed. Childhood left me
sure they flew down here, yet they move on.
You can call it solidarity,
but I swear their formation
was superior in an Ohio sky.
23 February 2011
Public schooling
If I was asked what my experience, as a home schooler, going into a public education system is, I would have to reply truthfully: it has been truly a waste of my children's lives and an undue stress on my family.
Yesterday we received a letter from the state informing us that my daughter had too many unexcused absences and that we were in danger of being charged a truancy fee. This blindsided me, as I was unaware of any unexcused absences.
Come to find out, my daughter's teacher had reported a week she had the flu as unexcused, therefore listing my daughter as truant. Also, to put the icing on the cake, she had reported a feast day, that we kept our children out of school to observe, as a truancy. I immediately contacted the school administration, and found them as puzzled as I was. The principal apologized and after listening to my explanation, assured me since I had sent excusal notes and explanations, the fault clearly was not mine, and that the matter would be resolved and I needn't worry. She urged me to write a letter of explanation that she could file, which I did and sent to school with my daughter.
The next morning, the attendance officer at the school called my husband, and asked him if we are, "Orthodox persons." He replied that we are an Orthodox Christian family, yes. She said that the feast day I had explained in the letter was not on the list of approved Greek Orthodox holidays. Since the woman was condescending, and her tone was one of a person who is greatly annoyed, my husband chose not to bother explaining to her that we are Antiochian Orthodox, and in fact the Greek Orthodox church here has a liturgy for even more feast days than our church. She demanded a letter from our priest, on church letterhead, to verify our claims of church attendance, but again reminded him that this most likely be considered an unexcused absence because it was not on the list of approved church holidays. My husband, knowing the school system cannot make a list of "approved religious obligations", told her we'd send in the letter immediately. Then, she said they also required a doctors note for our children's sick absences, to prove those.
I had been told the previous evening by the principal that no notes were necessary unless the children had ten consecutive unexcused absences. This is according to the school system policy, and we had made no violation. So, when the attendance officer approached us with demands of evidence, we were incensed. We have done nothing wrong, and have assented to the system. We have not lied, and our children have not missed school habitually. However, after the threat of truancy charges of $50 dollars a day, we did not want any discrepancies in our children's records. We contacted our priest for a letter, and our doctor for confirmation of our children's sickness and her recommendation they be kept at home and on Tamiflu for a week. It was a hectic morning.
While we were loading up to go retrieve the required "evidence" to deliver to the school office, the principal called me and began another long apology. She pleaded with me not to bother getting notes, as the attendance officer should not have demanded them. She said there must have been a "disconnect in communication." As the attendance officer had directly quoted my letter in which I had laid out every single detail of why our children's unexcused absences were incorrect, there was no basis for this idea of a "disconnect". Someone didn't like the religion they were unfamiliar with, and gave a knee-jerk reaction. That is not my problem, and I assured her that because of the discrepancies in what were being told, we were going to obtain and deliver the letters to make sure WE at least had dotted our I's and crossed our T's. The principal accepted the letters from my hand with more meek apologies.
I have a feeling this is not the last of this. The principal told me I should be contacted by my daughter's teacher, and too look for it. I have not been contacted today thus far. I am already annoyed with my daughter's teacher, who disciplined my daughter in the classroom for her absence when we went to Liturgy. I asked her why she had done this, via email (which she said is her preferred method of contact), and she did not reply, other than to say shortly that "family days" would not be excused. Yesterday, she told my daughter, Bethany, that she could not vacation with us this weekend (taking Thursday and Friday off school) since Bethany was "habitually absent". (remember that habitually absent is defined by the school system as ten, consecutive unexcused absences) The woman went on as she handed Bethany the letter from the state declaring we would have to pay fines, that "your parents are going to have to send you to school or face fines, you are not allowed to be absent." I emailed asking for an explanation of this false statement, and have received no reply to it.
The principal has promised to talk to the teacher. We shall see. What a mess, and a waste of time. The worst part is this should have never happened. If Bethany's teacher had correctly reported her absences, and not flagged the board of education, we wouldn't have gotten at truancy letter. My son had the same absences, at the same school, and his teacher did not respond like this.
What a merry day to remember that I have the right to homeschool, and give my children an excellent, fair education that does not constantly include the erroneous opinions of a woman who has spent 30 years learning to teach to the middle. The school's own tests have proven that my children are exceedingly bright, and they are on the honor roll. I would have some understanding of the teacher if my children were failing, and if I had not been at every parent meeting. I am a member of the PTA, I am room mother. There is no reason for the teacher to act this way, other than ignorance and personal bias against us.
Pray for peace.
Yesterday we received a letter from the state informing us that my daughter had too many unexcused absences and that we were in danger of being charged a truancy fee. This blindsided me, as I was unaware of any unexcused absences.
Come to find out, my daughter's teacher had reported a week she had the flu as unexcused, therefore listing my daughter as truant. Also, to put the icing on the cake, she had reported a feast day, that we kept our children out of school to observe, as a truancy. I immediately contacted the school administration, and found them as puzzled as I was. The principal apologized and after listening to my explanation, assured me since I had sent excusal notes and explanations, the fault clearly was not mine, and that the matter would be resolved and I needn't worry. She urged me to write a letter of explanation that she could file, which I did and sent to school with my daughter.
The next morning, the attendance officer at the school called my husband, and asked him if we are, "Orthodox persons." He replied that we are an Orthodox Christian family, yes. She said that the feast day I had explained in the letter was not on the list of approved Greek Orthodox holidays. Since the woman was condescending, and her tone was one of a person who is greatly annoyed, my husband chose not to bother explaining to her that we are Antiochian Orthodox, and in fact the Greek Orthodox church here has a liturgy for even more feast days than our church. She demanded a letter from our priest, on church letterhead, to verify our claims of church attendance, but again reminded him that this most likely be considered an unexcused absence because it was not on the list of approved church holidays. My husband, knowing the school system cannot make a list of "approved religious obligations", told her we'd send in the letter immediately. Then, she said they also required a doctors note for our children's sick absences, to prove those.
I had been told the previous evening by the principal that no notes were necessary unless the children had ten consecutive unexcused absences. This is according to the school system policy, and we had made no violation. So, when the attendance officer approached us with demands of evidence, we were incensed. We have done nothing wrong, and have assented to the system. We have not lied, and our children have not missed school habitually. However, after the threat of truancy charges of $50 dollars a day, we did not want any discrepancies in our children's records. We contacted our priest for a letter, and our doctor for confirmation of our children's sickness and her recommendation they be kept at home and on Tamiflu for a week. It was a hectic morning.
While we were loading up to go retrieve the required "evidence" to deliver to the school office, the principal called me and began another long apology. She pleaded with me not to bother getting notes, as the attendance officer should not have demanded them. She said there must have been a "disconnect in communication." As the attendance officer had directly quoted my letter in which I had laid out every single detail of why our children's unexcused absences were incorrect, there was no basis for this idea of a "disconnect". Someone didn't like the religion they were unfamiliar with, and gave a knee-jerk reaction. That is not my problem, and I assured her that because of the discrepancies in what were being told, we were going to obtain and deliver the letters to make sure WE at least had dotted our I's and crossed our T's. The principal accepted the letters from my hand with more meek apologies.
I have a feeling this is not the last of this. The principal told me I should be contacted by my daughter's teacher, and too look for it. I have not been contacted today thus far. I am already annoyed with my daughter's teacher, who disciplined my daughter in the classroom for her absence when we went to Liturgy. I asked her why she had done this, via email (which she said is her preferred method of contact), and she did not reply, other than to say shortly that "family days" would not be excused. Yesterday, she told my daughter, Bethany, that she could not vacation with us this weekend (taking Thursday and Friday off school) since Bethany was "habitually absent". (remember that habitually absent is defined by the school system as ten, consecutive unexcused absences) The woman went on as she handed Bethany the letter from the state declaring we would have to pay fines, that "your parents are going to have to send you to school or face fines, you are not allowed to be absent." I emailed asking for an explanation of this false statement, and have received no reply to it.
The principal has promised to talk to the teacher. We shall see. What a mess, and a waste of time. The worst part is this should have never happened. If Bethany's teacher had correctly reported her absences, and not flagged the board of education, we wouldn't have gotten at truancy letter. My son had the same absences, at the same school, and his teacher did not respond like this.
What a merry day to remember that I have the right to homeschool, and give my children an excellent, fair education that does not constantly include the erroneous opinions of a woman who has spent 30 years learning to teach to the middle. The school's own tests have proven that my children are exceedingly bright, and they are on the honor roll. I would have some understanding of the teacher if my children were failing, and if I had not been at every parent meeting. I am a member of the PTA, I am room mother. There is no reason for the teacher to act this way, other than ignorance and personal bias against us.
Pray for peace.
21 February 2011
I recently heard a young man at our church sing Bring Him Home from Les Miserables. It was quite moving, and lovely.
(Valjean is standing over Marius at the barricade)
VALJEAN
God on high
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there
He is young
He's afraid
Let him rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.
He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son.
The summers die
One by one
How soon they fly
On and on
And I am old
And will be gone.
Bring him peace
Bring him joy
He is young
He is only a boy
You can take
You can give
Let him be
Let him live
If I die, let me die
Let him live
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.
This man singing the original version is great as well.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrX_WT9LGzo
(Valjean is standing over Marius at the barricade)
VALJEAN
God on high
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there
He is young
He's afraid
Let him rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.
He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son.
The summers die
One by one
How soon they fly
On and on
And I am old
And will be gone.
Bring him peace
Bring him joy
He is young
He is only a boy
You can take
You can give
Let him be
Let him live
If I die, let me die
Let him live
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.
This man singing the original version is great as well.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrX_WT9LGzo
12 February 2011
calling out beauty
My family is considered a big family already, and we have another baby on the way. When I first found out I was pregnant, I balked. Not that I didn't want the baby-far from that. I did panic a little wondering how it would work. My first thought was "Can I handle 5 children?" and that was dismissed as silly pretty quickly: we already have 4. What's one more? Then I thought how we already have two kids in each small bedroom of our house. I panicked about logistics, not about a new baby. When I was 17, 18, and then freshly married, I was thinking very differently about how big our family would be. I was sure I'd have just one or two kids, but I also thought sometimes that without my two siblings growing up life would have been (and would be now) very lonely. Now, I don't know what we're going to do about space. Bunk beds with a trundle? Triple bunks? Yet, that doesn't matter much. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter if we don't have a room for everyone- it only matters that we have room in our hearts. I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. We've gotten past the fears together, most of them, and everyone is rejoicing on every step of the way toward our new family member. The baby has really started to move, not just flutters, and I am ecstatic dreaming about him/her. Finishing college...I don't care if it takes forever. My husband's job...well, we've always had what we needed even if we had to wait.
We bought our first piece of furniture last night, a couch. We've always had hand-me-downs. There is nothing wrong with hand-me-downs and thrift store furniture, but we've been saving for something new and it's exciting to go pick something. When we were both working, we had a friend who worked at one of of those rent-a-center places and rented some couches for a short time. We realized how dumb that was pretty quickly, and even though we'd wanted to help our friend make sales, financially we were throwing money to the wind.
We went into the furniture store as we usually do our shopping, with all four kids. It's sometimes frustrating when the kids aren't patient but we love being together. Since we stopped homeschooling, we are not all together as much, and miss it. The furniture salesmen watched us walk in, and I know they were thinking, "Oh, crap." The kids had fun trying all the chairs and couches with us. We finally asked for a salesman to come over after looking around. We had actually been there before, left, and checked two other stores and then came back. Most of the stores had all leather or durablend, or fake leather. I cannot stand the look of leather, the feel of it...the durablend was a little better, but still ugly. This store had a corduroy looking fabric couch. They had some microsuedes but I don't really like those either. That overstuffed look is strange to me. We came back to this particular store because they offer a protection plan (who knew you could insure a couch) where if the couch gets something spilled on it, or a rip, you call a tech to come out and either replace a cushion, or if they can't replace a part, replace the couch.
The salesman that came over shook hands with all of us, and said hi to all the kids. He was probably younger than my husband, winked constantly, and was pretty funny. He was honest with us, and explained why most fabric couches are junk when you have kids. We were shown leather looking couches that wouldn't stain, and with protection plans in case they tore. He told us about his two year old son, and when we got to talking he asked if the kids were all ours. He said he had three siblings, but two were from his parent's previous marriage, and he shrugged, "You know, that doesn't count because two of them weren't around a lot." That isn't the case in our mixed family, but I think we have a unique situation in that our older two are with us 90% of the year. We don't explain to strangers usually, and just said they are all ours. When he noticed I am pregnant, he starting laughing, and shaking his head, repeatedly saying, "That is so funny! Wow! Amazing." My husband and I exchanged glances and grins at the man's amazement. Since we know couples with far more children than us, five doesn't sound like that much.
It's funny: I know this astounded behavior at the concept of large families is normal. In our society, and in the society I was raised in, a large family was a thing of the past. Sure, great-grandma had ten kids, but that was before people had ways to control their family size. It's that word -control- that shakes us. We don't want to just have kid after kid. More women than not don't even consider breastfeeding, and certainly not long term, so family size isn't controlled naturally in that way. We want our 4 or five years of marriage free and clear before having children. We are told to have a certain lifestyle before having kids, ya know, no debt, a sizable house with an office and a guest room and a craft or "man" room, cars bought outright or paid off, etc. The fact is, having most of those things early in life means you had an understanding of finances that most young people don't, you never made mistakes, or you were born into an affluent family that has provided them for you. Or, you worked your behind off and didn't have time for starting a family. When our whole existence is concentrated on creating our particular brand of comfort, the things that really make a life are pushed away, and called obsolete. Honestly, it doesn't matter how many Apple products you own, reader. At some point, you have to come to terms with the fact that technology is not our future. Our children are. Yet, we exist in a world where we're constantly assaulted.
At the obstetrician's office, every advertisement you see says something like "Ready to take control of your life?" "Have the perfect family and want to stop?" "Have children when you want them-no accidents!" It is this idea that our life is under our control that corrupts us, I am convinced. When we think it's all up to us, we're fooling ourselves.
Having a big family has just become our way of living. It's not something we spend time dwelling upon. What we can't have, or won't be able to do, is becoming less and less important. My husband has a stable job, for now, and I don't have to work. We have what we need and more. I think sometimes I wouldn't be so optimistic if work had been harder for him to find, or if we were really poverty level and couldn't afford insurance and had to take food stamps. Fortunately, in the state we live in, aid is there and you can get it if you need it. It's sad that a big family usually means welfare in the United States, but hey. You do what you have to, and it shouldn't be assumed that accepting aid means you're a lazy slob. My own father didn't have the experience or education to find work anywhere but in a factory or in construction. I respect his struggles to provide for us more than any desk jockey who thinks they work hard to earn their money. I grew up on welfare off and on, and I understand that not everyone takes aid because they are truly not able to earn enough to survive in our economy. It is evil, however, to use that knowledge to judge who should receive. Christ himself says to give to those who need it without scrutinizing who really has a need.
I recently came across this quote from Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh: "Unless we look at a person and see the beauty there, we can contribute nothing to him. One does not help a person by discerning what is wrong, what is ugly, what is distorted. Christ looked at everyone he met, at the prostitute, at the thief, and saw the beauty hidden there. Perhaps it was distorted, perhaps damaged, but it was beauty none the less, and what he did was to call out this beauty."
I doubt this quote is to make us think of the homeless or down and out person that we don't know exclusively. I think we are to also look at our extended families, spouses, children, priests, and friends.
Maybe, even, we should look at ourselves and try to call out the beauty there.
We bought our first piece of furniture last night, a couch. We've always had hand-me-downs. There is nothing wrong with hand-me-downs and thrift store furniture, but we've been saving for something new and it's exciting to go pick something. When we were both working, we had a friend who worked at one of of those rent-a-center places and rented some couches for a short time. We realized how dumb that was pretty quickly, and even though we'd wanted to help our friend make sales, financially we were throwing money to the wind.
We went into the furniture store as we usually do our shopping, with all four kids. It's sometimes frustrating when the kids aren't patient but we love being together. Since we stopped homeschooling, we are not all together as much, and miss it. The furniture salesmen watched us walk in, and I know they were thinking, "Oh, crap." The kids had fun trying all the chairs and couches with us. We finally asked for a salesman to come over after looking around. We had actually been there before, left, and checked two other stores and then came back. Most of the stores had all leather or durablend, or fake leather. I cannot stand the look of leather, the feel of it...the durablend was a little better, but still ugly. This store had a corduroy looking fabric couch. They had some microsuedes but I don't really like those either. That overstuffed look is strange to me. We came back to this particular store because they offer a protection plan (who knew you could insure a couch) where if the couch gets something spilled on it, or a rip, you call a tech to come out and either replace a cushion, or if they can't replace a part, replace the couch.
The salesman that came over shook hands with all of us, and said hi to all the kids. He was probably younger than my husband, winked constantly, and was pretty funny. He was honest with us, and explained why most fabric couches are junk when you have kids. We were shown leather looking couches that wouldn't stain, and with protection plans in case they tore. He told us about his two year old son, and when we got to talking he asked if the kids were all ours. He said he had three siblings, but two were from his parent's previous marriage, and he shrugged, "You know, that doesn't count because two of them weren't around a lot." That isn't the case in our mixed family, but I think we have a unique situation in that our older two are with us 90% of the year. We don't explain to strangers usually, and just said they are all ours. When he noticed I am pregnant, he starting laughing, and shaking his head, repeatedly saying, "That is so funny! Wow! Amazing." My husband and I exchanged glances and grins at the man's amazement. Since we know couples with far more children than us, five doesn't sound like that much.
It's funny: I know this astounded behavior at the concept of large families is normal. In our society, and in the society I was raised in, a large family was a thing of the past. Sure, great-grandma had ten kids, but that was before people had ways to control their family size. It's that word -control- that shakes us. We don't want to just have kid after kid. More women than not don't even consider breastfeeding, and certainly not long term, so family size isn't controlled naturally in that way. We want our 4 or five years of marriage free and clear before having children. We are told to have a certain lifestyle before having kids, ya know, no debt, a sizable house with an office and a guest room and a craft or "man" room, cars bought outright or paid off, etc. The fact is, having most of those things early in life means you had an understanding of finances that most young people don't, you never made mistakes, or you were born into an affluent family that has provided them for you. Or, you worked your behind off and didn't have time for starting a family. When our whole existence is concentrated on creating our particular brand of comfort, the things that really make a life are pushed away, and called obsolete. Honestly, it doesn't matter how many Apple products you own, reader. At some point, you have to come to terms with the fact that technology is not our future. Our children are. Yet, we exist in a world where we're constantly assaulted.
At the obstetrician's office, every advertisement you see says something like "Ready to take control of your life?" "Have the perfect family and want to stop?" "Have children when you want them-no accidents!" It is this idea that our life is under our control that corrupts us, I am convinced. When we think it's all up to us, we're fooling ourselves.
Having a big family has just become our way of living. It's not something we spend time dwelling upon. What we can't have, or won't be able to do, is becoming less and less important. My husband has a stable job, for now, and I don't have to work. We have what we need and more. I think sometimes I wouldn't be so optimistic if work had been harder for him to find, or if we were really poverty level and couldn't afford insurance and had to take food stamps. Fortunately, in the state we live in, aid is there and you can get it if you need it. It's sad that a big family usually means welfare in the United States, but hey. You do what you have to, and it shouldn't be assumed that accepting aid means you're a lazy slob. My own father didn't have the experience or education to find work anywhere but in a factory or in construction. I respect his struggles to provide for us more than any desk jockey who thinks they work hard to earn their money. I grew up on welfare off and on, and I understand that not everyone takes aid because they are truly not able to earn enough to survive in our economy. It is evil, however, to use that knowledge to judge who should receive. Christ himself says to give to those who need it without scrutinizing who really has a need.
I recently came across this quote from Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh: "Unless we look at a person and see the beauty there, we can contribute nothing to him. One does not help a person by discerning what is wrong, what is ugly, what is distorted. Christ looked at everyone he met, at the prostitute, at the thief, and saw the beauty hidden there. Perhaps it was distorted, perhaps damaged, but it was beauty none the less, and what he did was to call out this beauty."
I doubt this quote is to make us think of the homeless or down and out person that we don't know exclusively. I think we are to also look at our extended families, spouses, children, priests, and friends.
Maybe, even, we should look at ourselves and try to call out the beauty there.
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