sierrasong's Open Salon Blog

True Colors

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 00:06:33 -0400

Window to the Future...

Tomorrow is the last day of my 34 year teaching career. I was asked to give the commencement address, and even though I haven't been sharing here recently, I decided to post it. This is dedicated to my last 8th grade class...

True Colors

8th Grade Promotion, IMS
June 12, 2013

I know what you’re thinking. You’ve been in this school for three years and Ms. T is STILL talking.

“Come on, 8th graders, move it, get to class. Edgar, not so loud, Emily – phones outside only, Bryan, take off your hat in the halls, good morning, Danny.”

Quite a few years ago, I was sitting right where you’re sitting, on a hot June evening at Albert’s Field in San Rafael, California waiting to graduate from 8th grade and get on with my life. And now, after 34 years of teaching I’m getting ready to move on to a new chapter of my life and you are just beginning your books; how incredibly exciting (and maybe a little scary) for all of us!

Someday, you’ll be standing right where I’m standing now. Oh, it probably won’t be in the IMS Gym on a hot June afternoon. But, you’ll be standing looking back over the paths you’ve taken in your life, paths you are embarking on today. Maybe you’ll have had a career as a doctor, a soccer player, a teacher or a musician. Whoever you are and whatever you become, will be built on the paths you take and the decisions you make from now on. YOU are responsible for your path, wherever it takes you in life. You hold the power to succeed or not. It’s up to you.

I find bits wisdom in lots of places…just last night the tag on my Yogi Bedtime Tea bag said “You can run after success, but true satisfaction comes from within.” A card at Trader Joes said to follow Ralph Waldo Emerson’s advice and “scatter joy.” So here are a few of Ms. T’s words of wisdom:

1. Above all and always – be kind. What goes around comes around and we are ALL in need of kindness; the good you spread will come back to you when you need it most.

2. Give back. We get, we earn, we work hard for what we have. But, always save room in your heart to give back to the world, your nation and your fellow man and woman. You will be richer for it. I know that as a teacher, what I have given has returned to me a thousand fold and there are no words to describe the joy that brings.

3. Listen at least as much as you talk – I know, this is one I continue to work on myself. But, you’d be amazed what you learn when you listen with your heart and not just your head.

4. Do the right thing even when the easy way out is calling your name. Get off your behind and just do it. I know it can be tough, but it’s worth it, trust me on that one.

5. Be grateful. If you didn’t have to walk five miles for clean water today, you have blessings in your life – don’t forget to count them regularly.

6. Pursue your passion, whatever that turns out to be. Stay open to discovering new ones and never, ever stop learning. My dad told me that the day you stop learning is the day you die and I believe that with all my heart.

7. Be yourself. Don’t let others define you; sometimes it takes courage to step out of conformity and be authentically you. You won’t be truly happy until you do.

8. Don’t give up. Just don’t. You know you can do anything you put your heart into.

9. Always remember that you and everyone around you is worthy of being loved. Period. No exceptions.

So, get out there and show the world just how wonderful we all know you are. Good luck and thank you for the allowing me the privilege to speak to you, my last group of 8th graders. I wish you all the best and know my heart goes with you all. I love you all.

If I can still talk through the tears I will sing...

But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow...

1979

Sun, 28 Oct 2012 23:10:39 -0400

My first classroom, 1979

Thirty four years is a long time. A long time to be doing the same thing - teaching. Wasn’t it just last week that I finished my student teaching and was finally hired (after the start of the school year) to teach 6^th grade? “Give Marsha ten students you don’t want,” said my first principal. If those were the ones that the other teachers didn’t want, I can only imagine the ones they kept were perfect angels. My first year was spent fighting what seemed like weekly (horrible) colds, keeping one page ahead of the class in math and wondering what the hell I was doing. But, the kids? They were awesome. They were lively and loving, fun and frustrating, challenging and utterly unforgettable. Thirty four years later, I’m still in touch with some of them and, in fact, have their kids in my 6^th grade classes this year. I cannot imagine doing anything else and yet, the time has come to consider doing just that: something else. I just wish I knew what that “something else” was.

I think it’s time to retire. There are many things driving this decision – the need to slow down a bit, wanting to spend more time with my kids and grandkids and, yes, the need to get another job to pay off enormous debts. I am 61 years young and wondering what my next career will be. It will most certainly NOT be as long-lived as my teaching career, but hopefully it will be as meaningful. I have spent my life being useful and serving the common good. It’s who I am and what I do; at least it has been for most of my life. What will I do now? Write? Volunteer? Work at Ace Hardware?

I am ready to move on to greener and more interesting…oh, hell, here’s the real crux of it: I’m terrified by the thought of retiring. There, I’ve said it. Now, I don’t presume to be the first person to feel this way, but most people I talk to who have retired seem to have the completely opposite feeling!

“I just LOVE it!” (Uttered in an irritatingly joyful tone of voice.)

“Wish I’d done it years ago!” (Yeah? Could you have afforded it years ago?)

“I’m out golfing (bowling/shopping/add your own precious pursuit here) while you’re working!”

Not me. I do best in a structured environment; all you have to do is look at my house at the end of a long weekend or school vacation. All the stuff I was “going to get around to” is still sitting right where I left it until approximately one day before it’s time to go back to work. I always work better under pressure and tend to drift when there’s no framework in place to order my days. I read, putter, willingly and happily fall down endless internet rabbit holes and while away enormous amounts of time following breaking news on CNN. (I had to mute the damn TV and its fascinating coverage of Hurricane Sandy to just get started on this piece. Wait, I’ll be right back after I check for timely details and the Giants’ World Series score. This is the modern equivalent of “Look! A squirrel!”)

And then there’s the anxiety issue. I am cursed with the need to be busy and meaningful or I fall prey to my shadow side. Despite acquiring a black belt in therapy over the years, I still cannot shake the notion that to be idle is to be the Devil’s something or other. Retiring without a plan in place will likely result in me being found cowering behind the shoe rack in my closet, quaking with an indefinable fear (not to mention disgust at my smelly shoes). Yes, I know I must learn to “face my fears” but I’ve tried that and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I’m fine when I’m productive, so productive is what’s for dinner.

So, plan I must. My paperwork for retirement is due by the end of November. I have one month to make a life-altering decision – to retire or not to retire. I will decide “…whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles”.

Thanks, Hamlet, I’ll get back to you by December 1. Stay tuned – gotta go check the election news…And then begin to plan as if my life depended upon it.

Because it does; it really does.

Falling...

Sat, 3 Oct 2009 23:10:06 -0400

Inside the house, it’s too quiet now. It’s empty except for me and Betty Boop.

It isn’t quiet outside. It’s one of those autumn days that seem to predict that winter is only a few days away. The wind is howling in the pine trees and the roof resounds with the thud of pine cones as they are swept from their moorings, making them easy fodder for the squirrels to harvest. The day is a crazy quilt of bright fall light and sudden dark overcast as the clouds go scudding by the sun, propelled by an oncoming cold front which is forecast to bring us an early dusting of snow tonight. I spend a futile few minutes trying to sweep out the garage. The wind has filled it with leaves, pine needles and great dusty puffballs of fur left over from the dog’s last brushing. Each gust of wind swirls the detritus back into the garage and before long, I give up, defeated by the howling autumn air.

I watch you trudge back and forth from the house to the car, laden with all the necessities of a college life: your clothes, cleaning supplies and of course, the TV and stereo. You moved out last year to go to college, but I’ve been spoiled by having you back again this summer and fall while waiting for your new apartment to be ready. So, it’s kind of like starting the empty nest thing all over again. It’s harder than I thought it would be. Much harder.

Next, it’s time to tear out all the faded and frost-shriveled flowers. Their drooping faces match mine as I pile their still green and tender carcasses into the trash can; a sad harvest, indeed. Wasn’t it just last week when I felt brave enough to plant them, being fairly sure the killing freezes of winter were over? A few courageous tomatoes cling to skeletal vines and I gather them to finish ripening indoors. I pause and watch as a giant crow struts across the road, oblivious to the wind and flying debris. He seems to be an omen of a hard winter ahead. Fall, in her gorgeous robe of gold, is usually my favorite season, but this year, I feel unease instead of exhilaration.

It’s right and important for you to get out on your own. I want you to be independent and learn the ways of the world. I don’t want you to know how bereft your leaving makes me feel for that old adage is true: You have to love someone enough to let them go. So, as is right and proper and completely healthy, you gather your things and go. I fuss about whether the electricity and heat are turned on in your new place and how you’re going to blow up the temporary mattress without a pump. Wouldn't you like to take some folding chairs since there's no furniture in your new abode yet? And you are so patient with me. “Mom,” you say, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

Later, I walk through the leaf-carpeted woods with the dog and zip my fleece up to my chin against the unseasonal chill. The indisputable truth is that my depression and anxiety issues have been creeping closer and closer throughout the past few months. Now that the grand labor of the 40^th reunion is finished, there seems to be nothing to take its place. My job is overwhelming, I’ve been sick lately and in pain from my mouth for months. There seems to be no respite. Then my cell phone buzzes with a text, “Thanks for everything mom. I love you.”

No, thank YOU for everything. I love you more...

Of thee I sing; a paean to small town American life

Thu, 2 Jul 2009 01:07:16 -0400

Oh beautiful for spacious skies…

I admit it. I’m spoiled. I live in one of the most beautiful places on the face of the earth. A place visited by many thousands of people every year who come to enjoy the towering pine trees, breathe the pure air and create traffic jams. They see the grand vistas of the Sierra Nevadas and the deep blue sweep of Lake Tahoe but what they don’t see is what I cherish: a type of small town life that is fast disappearing across this great United States of America. They miss the subtle rhythm of the heart of small town life: the people.

And what kind of people are they? They are just like your neighbors, probably. But, do you know your neighbors? I mean REALLY know them? For better (and) for worse, I do. I know them and I can count on them. After living here for over 30 years, it seems I know nearly everyone, but of course I don’t. But the important thing is I feel like I do and that is a wonderful feeling.

They are the kind of people who look out for one another...

Cancer in the family or perhaps a terrible accident? You can bet there will be a benefit dinner, or auction or dance and you can also bet many people will be there and if they can’t, they will donate anyway. We actually care what happens to each other and take steps to help rather than just talk about it. We’ll cook you a meal if you need it and drive you to a chemo appointment or take your kids to school. Oh – and we’ll keep track of those kids as we see them walking around town (for it’s still safe for kids to do that here) and call you if we think you need to know what they’ve been up to when they thought no one was watching! Something to be proud of for sure.

The kind of people who band together for a common goal...

Schools need money? Well, just put on your dancing shoes and join the Incline Star Follies. Every year for the past ten years, we have joined together as a town to put on the fabulous Follies which combines the talents of students, teachers and community members in one hell of a show. The show, which is as heavy on talent as it is on the amount of glitter worn by the participants, is a hit every year. Even in these recessionary times, we played to nearly full houses this spring and raised considerable money (think five figures) for our cash-strapped schools. Service groups abound. They hold pancake breakfasts, sell Christmas trees and hold golf tournaments all to benefit the local youth. Something to be proud of, too.

The kind of people with friendly faces...

We see each other all over town. We have very limited home mail delivery due to the amount of snow we get so most of us have post office boxes making the post office a de facto town hall. Depending upon the time of year, you’ll see the Girl Scouts out selling cookies, the veterans with their poppies and any number of political groups and their petitions. The same goes for our local supermarket, the bank, the rec center, the beach and on the soccer or baseball fields. You’ll always see a friendly face and get a chance to catch up on everyone’s news. I know that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea – many prefer the anonymity of a large, impersonal city -- but for me, a child of the 1950s who grew up spending as much time roaming the neighborhood as at my own house, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I feel safe here and that makes me proud.

The kind of people who take pride in their schools...

After teaching in our local middle school for 29 years, I am now teaching children of previous students. There is a certain joy in watching kids grow, leave town and return to get married and raise their children here. A continuity you don’t find many places, I don’t think. (Although I have been known to dart to another aisle in the grocery store to avoid a parent/teacher conference in the dairy section!) We have a perfect feeder system: an elementary, a middle and a high school and we do our damnest to not let anyone fall through the cracks. I’m proud to teach them all.

They are patriotic people...

And now that the fourth of July is right around the corner, it’s time for Red White and Tahoe Blue a true celebration of the spirit of small town America. There are American flags from huge to tiny, stuck in every possible location all over town including the riprap which holds the mountainside up! We will have daily flag raisings, celebratons honoring our veterans and ice cream socials. We'll enjoy the somewhat rinky dink parade (do YOU have the REAL Santa Claus on a fire engine in YOUR 4^th of July parade?) and the rubber duckies will race down Incline Creek into the lake to raise money for the Rotary Club. Don't miss the free pancake breakfast at the fire station, the games and food on the beach and, thanks to ardent fund raising all year long, the glorious fireworks over the jewel of the Sierras, our beautiful Lake Tahoe. Pride of ownership for sure.

Is life here perfect? Of course not! Do we argue about issues large and small, have serious political differences as well as our share of dirty laundry flapping in the breeze? Without a doubt! But, tonight the heavenly fragrance that the pines release at sundown is redolent in the air and my windows are open. I can hear my neighbor, whom I love dearly, singing in preparation for tomorrow’s concert of American music.

Who wouldn’t be proud?

From the mountains,
To the prairies,
To the oceans white with foam.
God bless America,
My home, sweet, home,

God bless America,
My home, sweet, home.

Hair it goes...

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 18:06:14 -0400

I can't believe the first post I've produced in two months is a picture of me with "Farrah-esque" hair. I obviously didn't have quite the volume she had, but was going for that look, lo those many years ago!