Every 20 Years or So - Part 3

The incident about the teacher finally made it to a local newspaper.  Probably only because someone had recorded it and posted it to You Tube. Still just unreal to me.

There have been times in my life that I was pretty much satisfied with myself and times when I was pretty much disgusted.  Been thinking lately about where I am right now, where I've been and where I'm headed.  Most of this type of thinking brings me back to my first son, Ben.

I was twenty when he was born and it was kinda like we grew up together.  I was married to his father at the time, but we divoriced two or three years later.  Because of our closeness, I always trusted him completely.  Looking back, that was my greatest mistake.

Only fair to say he doesn't see things as I do.  Our relationship now is strained to nonexistent.  Sometimes it feels like we never knew each other at all.  Or like it was another life.

When I'm in this mind set, I look back and try to figure out where it went wrong.  Like I have to pinpoint a certain location in our history and label it, but life isn't like that.  Instead it's little bunches of this and that until they just pile up and spill over.

One flashback I had this morning happened when he was about seventeen.  I had bought him a car that was nothing but trouble from day one.  It was a classic Camero; too much work, too powerful.

This particular a.m. I woke from a dead sleep knowing Ben was in trouble.  Checked to see if he was home, but already knew he wasn't, got up and dressed and started cruising town to find him.  It didn't take long.  He was on the road talking to a policeman, his car was down a six plus foot imbankment and a wrecker was on the scence trying to pull the car up.  He looked up and saw me and the first thing out of his mouth was, "momma, how did you know?"

That was probably gonna be one of those secrets he kept from me.  Yet even then I trusted him; I wanted to trust him.  Is it wrong to want to trust your child?  No, but it's wrong to believe you can.  Sure there's a time when you as a parent have no more say or influence; when children are almost grown and they are sure they know everything.  Believe it or not, even I was once a teenager.

But still I pick at all this stuff and try to figure out what happened.  I hope it ends up being a good thing, but my son now, Caleb, hears way too many horror stories about those days with Ben.  It's like this, I'm not going through that crap again and now I know what to watch out for, so Caleb doesn't have a chance.        

Every 20 Years or So - Part 2

So last week my teen son mentioned that one of his last year's teachers had finally come back to school.  So naturally I asked why she had been out.  He said she had been beat up by a student.  A female student had hit her several times in the face, got her down on the floor and started kicking her.  The teacher had been out for about a week.

What has this got to do with my story?  It shows the attitude of much of this generations lack of care for anything or anyone but themselves.  I suppose every generation is the worst in the previous generations eyes.  And I suppose this has been so since the beginning of time.  Sorry, don't really want to go back that far.  My concern is that things of this nature seem be considered normal, even routine.

Ok, I'm going to say it.  Back in my day, if I had even got close to an incident of violence involving anyone, especially a teacher, I would have gotten my butt kicked at home.  NO!  Worse than that.  I'd a got a whoopin'!  There seems to be no shame for certain behavior.  And there seems to be an effort on the school system's part to keep things like this a secret.

Even with my first son, things were not like this.  Most kids still showed respect for adults and certain situations.  In other words, I wasn't afraid to go to my first son's school and walk down the hall without an escort.

I have to say that I am a critic of this public school system and the school system in general.  My dislike for this system and the way it is run contributed to the decision for us to home school for nine years.  It was one of the hardest things I've ever done to allow my son now to return, at his request, to this school system which I truly hate.

While I believe with all my heart, teaching is a calling, a very noble proffession, it is also infested with teachers who do not teach.  It's not my intention to bash teachers.  Even in this school system, there are some very good teachers.  And how do I define a good teacher?  As one that stands before her or his class and talks about the subject in a way that gets the student to think and get involved.  So how do I define a teacher who doesn't teach?  As one whose class instruction is handouts, with reading straight from the book, with playing video games instead of being involved in class time, one who won't take questions & belittles any who try to ask one.

As the saying goes, if the shoe fits...  Why this even matters here is because even an unruly, rebellious, undisciplined child might reconize dedication and passion and care shown toward them.  As on the other hand, that child might reconize having a teacher with less as a sign that they the student are seen as a hopeless case so may as well not bother.

And I understand, one huge complaint all teachers have is that they spend most of their class time discipling.  Well if that's the case, all those college grads ought to be able to think of a better way.  I've always thought that parent involvement would be a key factor in gaining better control of the classroom.  But years ago I had an administrative position person actually say to me that some parents you wouldn't want around your child.  Hello!  Job Screening!  It's like what all employers do.

Like it's been said a million times before, it all starts at home; teaching that is, whether good or bad.  And to pharaphase the Bible, "Teach a child the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it".  When a child is taught right from wrong, whether or not he chooses to do the right thing, the teaching doesn't leave his mind.   

Every 20 Years or So - Part 1

I follow Beta Dad's blog.  He and his wife are raising twin girls. In commenting on one of his posts I had mentioned I had two sons 20 years apart.  He gave me new inspiration to ponder.  The idea was about the differences in the generations of teenagers.

When I was a teen it was the late 60's and early 70's.  The generation known as the baby boomers, but then we were called the generation of sex, drugs & rock n roll.  It's so strange to think of my life back then.  I was really into rock music; Stones, Doors, Joplin, Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane.  Wow, this is really weird.

No, I didn't go to Woodstock.  I can remember being at my sister's house in Florida and watching clips of it on the news.  I think that was the summer of 69 and I was 16.  I lived through so much of what is now considered history, probably ancient to some.

THIS WASN'T SUPPOSE TO POST NOW!!!  Computer blinked & went crazy when it came back on, so this post is still in progress.

I really hated high school.  There was this one boy who tormented me all the time.  He made my life miserable.  He just doesn't know how fortunate he is that I was a different person then.  I was so timid I wouldn't take up for myself.  Now I realize he helped make me who I am today. I may be a Christian, but I wouldn't have put up with his crap now for one second.

I think the older I get, the meaner I get and I'm really not a mean person.  It's just that I've been through so much in my life that I've decided not to put up with anything I don't want to.  For example, back this spring I was at the gas station.  I was pumping gas minding my own business and this bunch of young boys started a shouting match across the parking lot.  Seemed like two groups that were mad at each other and they were being vividly vocal and more so.

I kept thinking this is a public place, I have the right to be here & not listen to this & they're gonna stop any minute now.  Well, I had had enough!  Let me say here, when I scream, people shut up!  I told them exactly what I thought about their display and I don't think I used any nasty words except for CRAP (which seems to be my motto lately).  And I demanded an answer.  I remember screaming "Do you think this is any way to act in public?"  And I kept screaming questions like that until I started hearing some "no mams & yes mams & sorry mams".

And to top it off, there was a man sitting in a car at the next pump and he said to me, "I'm glad you told them that, they don't need to be talking that way in public."  I thought to myself, "why in the CRAP didn't YOU call them down then?"  By then I was too mad and too hoarse to say anything so I shut up.

I don't suppose this would have had the same end results, say if I had been in New York City, Miami, LA or other large city.  But this is the south, in a sparsely populated county, in a rural area where most people here have lived all there lives.  Most everybody knows everybody except us.  We're the newcomers, the outsiders, the city (LOL) folks that moved here 17 years ago!  Yeah, no you can't know what I mean.  Back when I was going regular to church, there was a family there that had moved here 20 years ago and the husband made a statement about that they were just beginning to be accepted. 

OK!THIS MAY TAKE AWHILE!!!  I had more to say than I thought I did, but I really got to go wash dishes.

Forever Young

I can remember when I was very young, I would wonder how other people felt.  How it was to be them. Looking back, that was a pretty deep thought for a child.  Problem is I still wonder.  Not to the deep extent that I did back then though.  Now my wonderment is clouded with real life, real experiences, real dreams, real disappointments.

What is interesting to me is that I've never cared what someone thought of me.  And I think most people do care what others think.  Most people put so much into making a good impression, being cool, fitting in with the crowd, etc. that they don't even know who they are.  I can't remember a time when I cared one way or another what someone thought of me.  It's always been a take it or leave it package.

I love music and right now I'm listening mostly to Contemporary Christian.  Mercy Me has a song 'Beautiful' on their new CD Mr. Lovewell.  I saw a You Tube video with Bart Millard (lead singer, husband, father) talking about what inspired him to write this song.  He talked about his children and the influences of this day and age that caused little girls especially to feel that they could never measure up to what the world expected of them, but that in God's eyes we all are beautiful; splinters & all (this is my take on his statement, but it's a 'need to see it for yourself' thing).

Though I've never given much consideration for other people's opinion about me personally, I can understand that this is an important message for all of us.  It's a reminder that even though we generally put labels on each other, God sees us all the same.  And He loves us all the same and He is ready to forgive us all the same.

I am thankful for groups like Mercy Me that are not ashamed to stand before the world and our youth to sing the message that God has given them.