Shuttin' Detroit Down

My daddy taught me in this country everyone's the same
You work hard for your dollar and you never pass the blame
When it don't go your way
- John Rich

At my school, the teachers often bemoan students' lack of investment. Their unwillingness to put forth any effort on assignments, and, all too often, convey the attitude that they should be given a decent grade anyway because, oh, I don't know, they're a wonderful person?

Well, pardon me if I don't shed a tear
They're selling make believe and we don't buy that here

We could analyze it and try to figure out if it relates back to parents who have been worrying about their child's self esteem since the day they were born, but often the parents are just as frustrated at their children's lack of investment as the teachers are. And what's frustrating is the schools - the teachers - are being held accountable for the test scores for kids who aren't invested. For kids who don't care. It's pretty darn difficult to make someone come to the table if they don't want to be there. If they don't see something in it for them. And why should they? They'll get what they need...eventually...from someone...

It's a very different mindset when you've worked 30 hour weeks to pay your own tuition. Those dollars are worth something you gave up, so you study your butt off because you're not willing to see those dollars go down the drain.

Now I see all these big shots whining on my evening news
About how they're losing billions and it's up to me and you
To come running to the rescue

A local columnist asked older readers, folks who had come of age during the Great Depression, to share "Life Lessons". He asked them to evaluate their lives now that they've been around the block a few times. One of the things he mentioned was that it was clear they had developed "work habits in an age of scarcity." A very interesting concept, that is...

How different my students would be if they had developed work habits in an age of scarcity...instead of having everything handed to them - which many of them have!

Well that old man's been working in that plant most all his life
Now his pension plan's been cut in half and he can't afford to die
And it's a crying shame, 'cause he ain't the one to blame
When I looked down to see his calloused hands
Well let me tell you friend it gets me fightin' mad

When I watch a sixth grader act non-chalant about not getting his homework turned in, I know he is not thinking about how it will impact his future because he has never seen his father unemployed for lack of finishing school....or his mother cry because she cannot pay for groceries. He has not seen how something as simple as doing Math problems in November affects the whole rest of his family a year and a half later in May.

'Cause in the real world they're shuttin Detroit down
While the boss man takes his bonus paid jets on out of town
DC's bailing out them bankers as the farmers auction ground
Yeah, while there living up on Wall Street in that New York City town
Here in the real world they're shuttin Detroit down

And so part of what we do as teachers is to help kids care. Help them see why the material we present is relevant and matters. To them, to the rest of society. We need them to be invested so we ALL don't shut down.

Highway 20 Ride

A part of you might hate me
But son, please don’t mistake me
For a man that didn’t care at all
- Zac Brown

How do we measure the cost of what we do? And whether it's worth the price? There was an editorial piece in the paper today, written by a mother serving in the military, and how she feels when people thank her for her service, and she wonders if she's paid too great a price for our Freedom. Not because she served in Iraq, but because she wasn't there for her son when he needed her, and he committed suicide. And it made me think about my daughter lashing out at me, angry that she has to compete with 300 children for my attention. And how everyone at my school has to believe in the higher principle of what we are doing at this school...to make it worth jumping ship, giving up tenure, working longer hours for less pay. In the end, will it matter more that I started a school to provide parents with educational choice or that I was there for my family? Is that being selfish? Or serving a greater good? And how do you know?

And I count the days
And the miles back home to you

And when my daughter goes to study abroad, is it worth it because it furthers her education and career goals? Or too high a cost in the emotional toll it takes on the rest of the family because we worry about her and miss her so very much?

And my whole world
It begins and ends with you

I believe in service. And making the world a better place. I know my daughters do too. Right now, I am striving for balance. It's a late life lesson. Because I know that without family, there is very little else. So I am striving to find that balance. It's elusive because I believe so strongly in that service and the higher purpose of my school. But the world does begin and end with my daughters. So the best I can do is to keep the communication open and hope that I am doing a good job keeping tuned in to seeing the world through their eyes.

Many a Long and Lonesome Highway

Many a long and lonesome highway lies before us as we go
In the end I'll do it my way, look for me where the four winds blow
- Rodney Crowell

This has been an incredibly hard couple of months. I've had the weight of the world on my shoulders trying to find a new building for my school and serious doubts whether or not it's going to happen. If it doesn't, there are 40 people without a job and 350 kids without a school. It keeps me awake at night, I've lost weight, and heaven knows I work way too many hours. The support I wish I had from certain people isn't there, and I've been a wreck. On top of it all, I've gone back to school for my superintendent's license, and my daughter has been overseas for several months. My stress has been sky-high. And for the first time since my school opened, for the first time in four years, I took a vacation. I went to Brussels to visit my sister and her family, and then on to Dublin to see my daughter.

It did me a world of good to spend time at my sister's. Not only to spend time with her, but also to spend time with my nieces and nephews. I absolutely love teenagers! I love their energy and their honesty. While we were there, I asked Becca to act as tour guide and she showed me some beautiful buildings - not even knowing how much I love architecture. The next day, Ben and I tried our luck getting around the city without Becca's help, perfectly willing to get lost in the process of finding waffles. And in the evening we ate, and laughed, and watched TV, and laughed, and talked, and laughed a lot. All very good.

Becca will be graduating this spring, and says she wants to come back to the States to go to college. We don't see each other that often as it is; hopefully our paths will still cross occasionally and we'll see each other on holidays or other family events. I'm looking forward to seeing the adult she will become because I believe right now she carefully guards who she is. And that in the coming years, as she comes into her own, we will all be the better for knowing her because she is a person of incredible depth. This song is for her.

I believe in love and danger
I believe that truth is stranger
I believe that fear is much too strong
I believe the best will find me when I leave the rest behind me

Many a long and lonesome highway lies before us as we go
In the end I'll do it my way, look for me where the four winds blow

Pledge Allegiance to the Hag

Don't cry for me when I'm gone
Just put a quarter in the jukebox
An' sing me back home
- Eric Church

Sing me back home... What a wonderful sentiment. I've been to too many funerals where the person officiating didn't know the deceased very well. I found their words to be meaningless at best, and grating and insulting at worst. I have a lot of anger toward the man who officiated at my mother's funeral. It was more about him than it was about her. And he wouldn't let us kids speak during her funeral, only before it started. When both my grandmother and my uncle died, on the other hand, their pastor knew them well, spoke about them eloquently, and invited a lot of the family to speak.

I don't belong to a church and there is no Pastor Max to officiate. But I do believe that the power of music is just as powerful as prayer. And just as healing. Music has carried me through the most difficult times in life, and helped me celebrate the most momentous occasions. And why shouldn't it "carry me home" in the end? People say they want their funeral to be a celebration of their life. I do too. But I want it to be a celebration through music. And what is that music? Here are the songs I want to sing me home, in this order...

Go Rest High on That Mountain - Vince Gill
....a good song about being called home
Carefree Highway - Gordon Lightfoot
....it just speaks to who I am
Summer - John Denver
....it's about continuing on
I Hope You Dance - LeAnn Womak
....it's about hope for the future
Southern Cross - Crosby, Stills and Nash
....for my love of music, the water, and the night
16th Avenue - Lacy J. Dalton
....for believing in your dreams
The Dance - Garth Brooks
....for my mother
You'll Accompany Me - Bob Seeger
....for Gregory
Baby Girl - Sugarland
....for all of my daughters
Unchained Melody - Righteous Brothers
....because I want my ashes to go in the St. Croix River, to the Mississippi, to the sea

There Goes My LIfe

She hugged them both and headed off to the west coast.
And he cried, "There goes my life.
There goes my future, my everything.
I love you, Baby, good-bye."
-- Kenny Chesney

When my Baby Girl graduated from high school, we had the opportunity to submit a baby picture and a short message to her in the yearbook. I gave them the words "There goes my life, my future, my everything, I love you Baby." She recognized it for the Kenny Chesney song it was, and it made her happy. I heard the song driving home from work today, and it made me happy. It's about a young man upset he's going to become a dad and worried "there goes my life" and how it turns into his love for his daughter as she grows up and eventually leaves home and he feels a part of him is leaving.

The first one to leave home was Theresa, who did go off to the west coast. Laura went off to the east coast. And Sarah went off to southern Minnesota. And eventually, they all came back again. And left again. And so it goes, and probably does with most families. Right now we have one at home, one in Ireland, and one who's been living with her boyfriend not too far away for several years. But that's not what the song made me think about. I've been doing a lot of genealogy and I've been thinking about the legacy we leave behind....both in terms of the work we do and the family we grow. If my grandparents were alive today and were to say, "There goes my life...." What would they see?

On my father's side, my grandparents would see three children, fourteen grandchildren, and twenty-seven great-grandchildren. They would see 5 teachers, 3 in theater, 3 in business, 1 engineer, 1 diplomat, 2 health professionals , 1 in the music field, and others who are students going into law, and various other fields. Not to mention those who have devoted their career to raising their children and volunteer work.

On my mother's side, my grandparents would see three children, thirteen grandchildren, and eighteen great-grandchildren. They would see 10 in business, 3 engineers, 1 diplomat, 1 in education, 1 mechanic, 1 lawyer, and students going into law and theater. Not to mention those who have devoted their career to raising their children and volunteer work.

It's important to me how I've raised my children, my life, my legacy. I'm proud that they're all so different and of the life they've chosen. But it also matters to me the life of every child I touch. It's as important to me as all the Science lessons I ever prepared, all the Reading lessons I ever taught. I have a special place in my heart for the kids who struggle to be at school...struggle to sit still, struggle to get along, struggle to find the good in themselves. It's almost always the boys and almost always the boys who have never had someone believe in them and treat them positively.

Sometimes it's as simple as letting them know my office is a safe place and they can always come talk to me. Or letting them know I'll treat them fairly and with respect. Other times it's a battle of wills...of me going round after round with them that they are worth something and I am not going to give up on them and yes-they-can-do-it so let's try again. And again. And again. Some stand out more than others.

But they are just as much my life, my future, my everything, as my own daughters.

This Is Country Music

It ain't hip to sing about tractors, trucks, little towns,
And mama, yeah that might be true.
But this is country music...And we do.
--Brad Paisely

Thirty years ago, I got tired of listening to pop radio. The songs were tired and trite and boring. I started turning the radio dial and I hit on a country radio station and stopped long enough to listen. I don't even remember what the song was but I do remember two things as I listened to the next song and the next and the next... You could sing along to these songs. And they were real.

It wasn't just one longing-for-love song after another (though heaven knows country music has enough of those). They were also songs about family and life and children and fun and hard work and values and patriotism and God and beauty and grit and everyday America. It was real.

So turn it on, turn it up, and sing a long.
This is real; this is your life in a song.
Yeah this is country music.

And I've never left. Some country performers inspire me more than others. Several I've seen in concert...John Denver, Reba McIntire, Highway 101, George Strait, Patty Loveless, Kathy Mattea, Dwight Yokum, Kenny Chesney, Billy Dean, Randy Travis, Luke Bryan, Billy Currington, Tim McGraw, Sugarland. But I love the real things they sing about. So what is "real"?

If you ask people what the "American Dream" is, you'll get a wide variety of answers depending on who you ask. I know people who strive for large homes, lots of belongings, and annual vacations to resort destinations each year. They want to drive nice cars, send their kids to the best colleges, and buy whatever suits their fancy. The problem is...too often, they almost always want whatever is next on the horizon and are never quite satisfied.

If you talk to someone who is new to this country, the American Dream is having the freedom to walk down the street and speak their mind without fear of arrest. Having a place to live, a job, and hope of a public education for their children is the American Dream.

And you get everything in between.

Country Music folks will tell you the American Dream is about the family farm, patriotism, mamas and babies, and a whole host of other things that come with the price of hard work and no guarantee. That, and a little bit of whiskey and horses and Jesus.

At work, someone saw all the NFL memorabilia I have on the back of my office door and they asked if I was a season ticket holder. I told her no, that if I had that kind of money, I would be donating it to charity, not spending it on things like NFL tickets. That took her off-guard. Not that you can't reward yourself once in a while, but an extravagant lifestyle shouldn't be an end, in and of itself. If it is, it's time to come down to earth and get real. It's important to define your values and keep them forefront. Then life doesn't just happen to you, you live it intentionally.

That's what Country Music speaks to: values and the realities of the day to day. And it's why it sparks so many memories, thoughts, and ideas every time I listen to it. How could it not inspire me to write?

So turn it on, turn it up, and sing a long.
This is real; this is your life in a song.
Just like a road that takes you home.
Yeah this is right where you belong.
This is country music.

Chain of Love

He was driving home one evening,
In his beat up Pontiac
When an old lady flagged him down,
Her Mercedes had a flat
He could see that she was frightened,
Standing out there in the snow
'Til he said I'm here to help you ma'am,
By the way...my name is Joe

She said I'm from St. Louis,
And I'm only passing through
I must have seen a hundred cars go by,
This is awful nice of you
When he changed the tire,
And closed her trunk
And was about to drive away,
She said how much do I owe you
Here's what he had to say

You don't owe me a thing, I've been there too
Someone once helped me out,
Just the way I'm helping you
If you really want to pay me back,
Here's what you do
Don't let the chain of love end with you

Well a few miles down the road,
The lady saw a small cafe
She went in to grab a bite to eat,
And then be on her way
But she couldn't help but notice,
How the waitress smiled so sweet
And how she must've been eight months along,
And dead on her feet

And though she didn't know her story,
And she probably never will
When the waitress went to get her change,
From a hundred dollar bill
The lady slipped right out the door,
And on a napkin left a note
There were tears in the waitress's eyes,
When she read what she wrote

You don't owe me a thing,
I've been there too
Someone once helped me out,
Just the way I'm helping you
If you really want to pay me back,
Here's what you do
Don't let the chain of love end with you

That night when she got home from work,
The waitress climbed into bed
She was thinkin' about the money,
And what the lady's note had said
As her husband lay there sleeping,
She whispered soft and low
Everything's gonna be alright.
I love you... Joe.

-- Clay Walker

I can't write about this song without printing the whole song in its entirety because of the story. It's a sweet song that reminds us what goes around comes around. And that's the way it should be. But it also came to mind after looking through pictures of my uncles online...and my mother. And the "Joe" story she used to tell me about her brothers. How her brother Barron had them convinced that if you went to the corner store and said "Hello, Hello, My name is Joe, Give me something free!" The store owner would. I don't know that they ever had the nerve to try it, but this was the big sibling joke they always tried to convince each other to do.

Another joke she told about frequently was the time Ronnie's friend would always stop by on his way home from the grocer and set his bag on their wide newel post while he visited. Then come flying down the stairs because he'd stayed too late, grab the bag, and run out the door. So one time Barron tied the bag to the newel post. When Ronnie's friend came running to grab the bag, it didn't go far. In fact, it broke open with the force of being grabbed on the run, and went spilling in all directions. The boys thought it was hilarious. The friend, not so much....

Or the time they got my mother to hold one hand to a shorted metal lamp, and the other hand to the metal railing down their front steps. She was not amused when she got the strong jolt of electricity.

So this is where I get my sense of humor from... My cousins hiding my Mother's Easter Egg next to a dead bird in the garden just to startle her. My cousins trying to convince my brother to jump down the clothes chute or accidentally on purpose fall in the creek. Or throw me in the swimming pool - lawn chair and all. My uncle making up crazy nicknames for us all. Because it's part of the chain of love that is this family.