The extraordinary life of an ordinary woman

Hallows Eve and Goblins Galore

^{October 31
Happy Halloween!}

^{While Halloween can invoke images of horror movies and things that go bump in the night, to me it brings back a wave of much more pleasant images.}

^{When the kids were younger, Halloween was not just one night a year, it was a year long preparation for them. As soon as one Halloween was done, my kids' imaginations quickly turned to what supper-duper costume they would wear the following year.}

^{I have to admit I secretly enjoyed this process. I liked to sew and costumes were just so much more fun that plain old pants or shirts.}

^{I also must add that I was known to get a little, okay a lot, carried away at times in this creative process!}

^{One year my littlest one, Alexi, who was about five years old at the time, told me he wanted to be a "polisman" like daddy. I took it literally!}

^{I spent a couple of weeks creating a mini-version of a state police uniform, down to the patches, breeches and all!}

^{My older kids felt that I was being obsessive because they thought Alexi was too little to appreciate my efforts. I personally thought that they were a little upset that his costume might be better than theirs!}

^{On Halloween night as we were heading out to trick-or-treat with our crew the sight of my little Alexi grinning ear-to-ear was all the proof I needed to show me that the extra effort was worth it.}

^{The lesson here is that I did not go all out on his costume to out do any one else. To show of my sewing skills, or lack there of.}

^{In reality the motive was a little bit selfish. I actually enjoyed it! To me it was like an artist creating a painting or a writer creating a story.}

^{Sadly at times we parents, especially women, get caught up in the trying to be all, do all and impress people we do not even like, just to prove what great moms we are.}

^{What good is it to have your kid in the best costume in the world if first of all he did not even want to be what you made or bought, or two, you have been such a basket case about it for weeks, lovable and caring are not exactly the first two words your family would think of, when they reflect on your mood during that time?}

^{If you are so consumed with stress, resentment and just plain tired, what good are you to your family or to yourself?}

^{What joy could possible come out of that?}

^{I must admit I was bummed out when the kids got older and wanted to do their own costumes or even not bother with dressing up, but not because of the showing off part, just because I missed my blank canvases to work on.}

^{Now that all my kids are mostly grown I still enjoy the fact that they still like dressing up, and now that I am a Grammy JJ, what my little grandson, Tiki,  calls me, I get to live the experience all over again.}

^{While Tiki has absolutely the best mom and dad in the world, and does not need me to make anything for him because his parents love the process themselves because they get that its all about having fun and not just the one night involved.}

^{I do however get to dig out the mini cop uniform to put it on my grandson for a photo, something we were not able to do with Alexi as a camera was not handy at the time.}

^{I no longer have the year long process in my life and while I miss it, I am okay with it, because I was so blessed to have kids that allowed me the opportunity to hang out and play with them in the amazing worlds that reside within their imagination.}

^{I am just thankful that I was not so over-whelmed or stressed out that I missed it.}

^{So this Hallows eve its my turn to play, I get to be the one to materialize for the real world the glimmers of the world of make believe I call my own, something that I, despite the hard life I had as a youngster, I was fortunate enough to be able to hold on to intact.}

^{To all my fellow grown-ups, how about we let go of the world, if only for one night and remember the fun times of our youth?}

^{I think it will lighten our load, quicken our step and make us realize that playing in the sandbox once in a while is still okay to do!}

^{Last one to the door bell owes me a lollipop!}

Just when I thought I had it figured out.....

"What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore---

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over---

Like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

Like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

                              Langston Hughes

When I was in seventh and eighth grade two things were my reality, one, my home life was dismal, to say the least, and two, books were my only escape. 

As a result of these two facts I was called a "bookworm",  or"professor", among a few other words I will not enclose here. I found these labels funny because while I was always deep in a book, I was not the best student in class by any means of the imagination. It was not that I did not have the potential. The fact was that I found out as an adult that I actually was quite bright and had undiagnosed ADD. The challenge for me in school was my home life.

My mother kept me out of school anytime she or her friends needed to run errands, as I was the resident translator.

The extended absences had me falling further and further behind, causing my grades to slip and my mother to punish me for being lazy. It was a vicious cycle that caused my self-esteem to slip further and further and I really thought I was stupid.  Add to the mix my disruptive home life with my mother's boyfriend, their drinking and, well, you get the picture.

While school was an escape from the chaos, it was also disruptive. I attended school in an inner city neighborhood, where race issues ensued, gangs prevailed and cliques were the norm.

The ironic thing was that with all this going on, an environment that it would have been understandable for teachers not to care, it was the total opposite.

My teachers, and school administrators, were my life line. They were good, kind, caring people, who at times were placed in harm's way because of their caring nature.

I saw one of the sweetest, nicest teacher punched in the face in front of the whole class by a drugged out mother because her son had been expelled for selling drugs. A male teacher was punched and kicked by an out of control male student for being reprimanded for assaulting a female student.

You would think that with all this going on teaching was the last thing on these teachers' minds, but teaching was the most important thing to them.

The school personnel was predominantly white and there were a few of African American decent. There was no Latino representation among the staff. I only point out the racial make up of the teachers because I was blessed to not know what racism, or stereotyping was, well at least in the classroom, anyway.

these teachers opened a wide, new world for me!

One of hope, and dreams and possibilities. They prepared lesson plans for an overcrowded classroom with 25 inner city kids struggling to survive, and taught us with the same dedication as if we were all college preparatory students heading to the best private high schools and Ivy league universities.

I learned about history. Not the condensed version, but real history, about Paul Revere falling off the horse, drunkard fools dumping tea in the harbor, how amazing Pocahontas really was and that there really were intelligent, famous people who happened to actually look like me!

I was introduced to classic works of literature by some of the greatest writers of our time. I learned to write poetry and to understand it when I read it. I learned that even bookworms can earn presidential physical fitness awards and that even the tiniest planet has importance in our solar system.

These incredible people, helped me discover my voice. I was given a speech to give for our eighth grade graduation and I just about thought I wanted to die. But they walked me through it, coached me and even bought me lunch as we rehearsed it over and over.

On graduation day as I stared into the packed auditorium, minus my family who showed up 45 minutes late and missed it, I slowly discovered the power of the spoken word. As I got more and more confident and the smiles and encouraging nods from those loving teachers gave me courage, I felt a transformation begin.

I felt a small stirring within my soul. It was ever so tiny. Like a butterfly gently brushing against my chest. But as I spoke it grew a bit stronger, until the very end of my speech where I felt a lightness come over me.

I would love to say that I escaped my personal prison that day, but I cannot.

While I did go to a private high school for three months, I was so far behind, it was a lost cause for me. These teachers were not as understanding and had no time for an awkward kid from the other side of town. I soon wound up back in public school and my surroundings consumed me. I became a statistic. High School drop-out, teen-age mother, welfare recipient and working for minimum wage with a erratic, semi-alcoholic husband. 

But the stirrings remained. The seed had been planted and as much as I would have found it easier to let it die, I could not.  It would have been a slap in the face to all the time and effort my teachers had spent on me.

So I fought against the norm, I earned by high school equivalency diploma, went to school to become a medical assistant while working and raising three boys. I got hired as a police officer, graduated from the academy and went on to a very productive career in areas outside the realm for women.

But my biggest quest was for knowledge. I wanted a college degree. I had started and stop going to school a couple of times due to the pregnancy of my last son and then my divorce.

When I got remarried I inherited four additional kids and their educational needs came first.

Now many years later and with all my life experience, people wonder why I am in school working on my bachelor's. They tell me I do not need it. I have my own business which while small is growing and my skills are in demand in the private security sector, why bother?

I bother because just when I thought I had it all figured out, I realize I did not!

I bother because even though my teachers may never know, I will know and I refuse to let all their hard work go to waste. My teachers instilled in me the importance of education,

"Silver and gold may fade away,

But a good education will always stay."

One of my teacher's wrote in my yearbook.

He was right!

While some of my teachers have already passed away and the others I do not know where they are, one thing is certain, when I walk across that stage to collect my bachelor's degree, my Master's degree and when I received my Doctorate's, not only will my family be there for me, but so will every one of those teachers!

I KNOW that if it had not been for god sending them into my life as my safety net, things would have been a lot worse for me.

I would never had found the crack of light that showed me the way out of my darkness and brought me into the amazing world that I live in now.

The light that I bask in now and spreads like rays bouncing off a prism to any one around me..

So for all you educators out there who might think you are wasting your time, or should have gone into another field...

I want you to know, you cannot save them all....

But you did save this one....

And as a result of that, you saved my children and my grandchildren and so on.

Thank you for what you do and for caring enough to help someone like me figure it out!

And no, this was not one of my school assignments so I could try to be teacher's pet!