Would You Run in the Rain?

A few weeks ago, I wrote about Dean Joe Maguire, a mentor to me while I was at Holy Cross. After I graduated, we stayed in touch, and I was even able to visit him a few times when I was back on campus. Sadly, he passed away in December of 2002. I found out about his death when I got a call in the apartment where I was living, asking me to be a pallbearer. I was honored and humbled by this request, and thus far in my life, it's the only time I've been a part of a funeral.

This presented a logistical dilemma: I was living in Chicago at the time and would need to fly to Boston, then drive to Worcester. At the time, American and United Airlines published fares in the latter part of the week for routes that did not have full flights for the upcoming weekend. As I recall, you needed to fly Saturday and come back on Monday. I was in luck that week - there were saver fares published from Chicago to Boston. Now the trick was getting a car and driving to Worcester.

One of my dearest friends, Jeff Haines, was living in Watertown at the time. We met teaching first grade in Boston, two Yankee fans educating the six-year-olds in Beantown! When I called and told him my story, he was happy to have us stay with him and would let us borrow his car for the day.

My then girlfriend (and now wife) and I left Chicago early that Saturday morning but with the usual delays in the crowded skies between the midwest and Boston landed close to 9:30 and needed to get to Worcester for an 11:00 funeral. It did not seem likely that we would make it on time. With no bags, we went right outside baggage claim, and Jeff was there. He jumped out of the car, pointed to the driver's side, and told me to get in and drive.

Once we exited the airport, we began driving in what can only be described as a downpour. Several times the windshield wipers were on high as we started driving west on the Mass Pike. We chatted for a while, caught up a little bit, and as we approached the Watertown exit, I slowed the car off the ramp. I began to turn right to head toward Jeff's house when he told me to stop the vehicle. "Let me out here," he said. When I refused because of the rain, he responded, "There's no way a pallbearer can be late for a funeral." With that, he got out of the car, opened the back door for Michal, helped her into the front seat, and took off running home to his house.

I sat in the car, stunned. As I watched him disappear into the rain, soaking wet, Michal reminded me that we still had a funeral to go to. A funeral that I was unsure we would be able to get to before it began.

We got there on time, and I was able to fulfill my mentor's wishes to be a part of his celebration of life.

We got there on time, and no one knew what we had gone through to get there.

We got there on time because of my friend who ran in the rain for me.

Courtesy of www.weeklytravelspecials.com

Enough

If this graphic from CNN is not staggering to you, please consider this. In the two most recent school shootings, young people lost their lives choosing to go after the shooter. Literally doing what Secret Service men and women do for the President of the United States: they took a bullet for their classmates.

When will this be enough? At what point will we as a society take a stand and demand that our right to bear arms does not outweigh a child's right to a safe school environment? We compel children to come to school, in the state of Vermont, and it says so right in Title 16 Paragraph 1121: A person having the control of a child between the ages of six and sixteen years shall cause the child to attend a public school, an approved or recognized independent school, an approved education program, or a home study program for the full number of days for which that school is held...

We continue to have school shootings, tragically on a regular basis in the United States, where there is seemingly unfettered access to assault weapons. Weapons in which the perpetrators of this violence can literally hold down the trigger and fire a hail of bullets into the bodies of innocent people. Why are these weapons necessary? 

South Carolina Republican Senator Lindsey Graham indicated in 2013 that assault weapons, like the AR-15 that he keeps in his home, are useful for protection. "I think I would be better off protecting my business or my family if there was law-and-order breakdown in my community, people roaming around my neighborhood..." 

The potential for law-and-order breakdown justifies the need for assault weapons to be readily available? If we never had another school shooting in the United States, at the present levels, it would take Canada, France, and Germany more than thirty-seven years to catch up with us. While I am a hopeful person by default, I just cannot believe we won't have another school shooting unless something changes.

I do have hope in Vermont Democratic Senator Patrick Leahy. In response to last year's violence at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, he called on his colleagues in the legislature to do something. "Congress must finally act and pass commonsense measures that have languished for too long at the bidding of a gun lobby that cares more about its profits than about people. Now is the time for Congress to muster its own courage."

How many more school children, compelled to go to school, will show more courage, in the face of unspeakable violence, than our elected officials? Are those who are adamant that assault rifles are necessary, ready to show the courage of the young people who recently gave their lives to stop the tragedy from going further? Does the potential for a law-and-order breakdown justify weapons like this continuing to be used to murder innocent people?

Don't look now, but once again, our children are leading the way for the adults with their courage.

It's time to say enough.

I See You

This past week was Teacher Appreciation Week. One week dedicated to ensuring that the adults in the lives of our children knew how much they meant to us. While some may see this as a formality, appreciation is essential to an individual's self-worth and place in an organization. It is a way of recognizing effort toward the larger goal of serving students and their families.

In a meaningful way, I want all the adults of the St. Johnsbury School District to know that I am proud of their commitment to our work, I am grateful for their service, and that I see them.


To the teacher agonizing over grading an assessment on a Sunday night, I see you. 

To the paraprofessional walking the halls with a student unable to be in the classroom, I see you. 

To the principal crafting a thoughtful evaluation, I see you. 

To the administrative assistant buried under a mountain of bus notes, I see you. 

To the administrator struggling to find the right words to help someone move forward, I see you. 

To the district-level employee hoping to fit in, I see you. 


To the teacher wondering how you will get through to June, I see you. 

To the paraprofessional that feels overlooked, I see you. 

To the principal wracked with worry about a student, I see you. 

To the administrative assistant running a school like a well-oiled machine, I see you. 

To the administrator juggling a masters course, a family, and professional responsibilities, I see you. 

To the district-level employee helping to see the blind spots, I see you. 


With sincere thanks from a very grateful superintendent, I hope that you all felt appreciated this week. And you did the week before. And you will the week after.

I am proud. I am grateful. I see you.

You matter.

Photo Courtesy of Twitter

On Traveling

I recently returned from a fantastic trip with my family. We spent two and a half weeks in Thailand. The reason for the trip was simple but significant. We are raising our children in Vermont, one of the whitest states in the United States. Our state does not even come close to representing the rest of the world, a world that is rapidly shrinking through the beauty of technology.

My Wife and I met while teaching on the Near Westside of Chicago, in a neighborhood that most people didn't go to unless there was a Bulls or a Blackhawks game. Our oldest son Patrick was born in Chicago, and as we contemplated moving to Vermont during his first year in the world, the only concern we had was the state's lack of diversity. Something Chicago has plenty of!

The decision was made to move to Vermont, and the promise was made to each other that our children would see the world outside of our beautiful state. We committed to ensuring that they would learn that while Vermont is a wonderful place to grow up, there is a very, very big world out there that looks nothing like the Green Mountain State.

This trip was the furthest either My Wife or I have ever traveled. It was an amazing experience of food, culture, diversity, ethnicity, and custom. While visiting the Buddhist temples, women's shoulders were to be covered, as were men's knees. We learned that almost everyone in Bangkok eats street food after work and that people rarely cook at home. Inside the indoor flower market (bustling at 10:30 PM each night) we watched people meticulously prepare garlands for the shrines that adorn almost every home and business.

And no one spoke any English. Well, that's not entirely true.

Some people did speak English. Our tour guides did - although it was broken English. In-flight announcements were in the native language of each of the carriers we flew, and then again also in English. And once on a beach in Koh Phangan, there was someone (sounded Australian by the accent) who was speaking English. But that was it.

We were out of our element, out of our comfort zone, in a world we were completely unfamiliar with, and we loved almost every minute of it. I had "dad" moments; you know the ones where you calculate how long it would take to get to the nearest hospital in a foreign country while your children are scaling the rocks at a natural waterfall. But no one got hurt.

I love where we live. I love that we are raising our children in Vermont, close to our family. I love that there is a vast big world out there to explore.

And I love that we are honoring our promise.

Our Boys at the Than Sadet Waterfall, Koh Phangan