Indiana, bowling and good times

So, we’re here in Indianapolis. Spencer had his first practice session yesterday and although he hasn’t thrown a bowling ball in a couple of months (I didn’t think it was possible for him to go that long without bowling, and it wasn’t intentional, but I don’t think he’s touched a bowling ball since May), he’s looking in good form. We arrived in Indy on Friday and we’ve been laughing nonstop and having the best time!

The really cool thing is that yesterday my brother and his girlfriend drove over from Illinois to visit and we had a great dinner at a peanuts-on-the-floor, steaks-and-burgers-on-the-menu restaurant last night. I’m not sure how long they can stay today, but I assume they’ll come to watch Spencer’s next practice session at 8am and then have breakfast before they head back.

I can’t remember when I last saw my brother, but it has to have been a couple of years – at least. The first thing he said when he saw me was “Holy shit. You look just like Mom.” Yep, I do. He just looks like himself. He looks like my big brother, David. And it’s been fantastic to see him and we’ve laughed a ton. His girlfriend is great too. What a bonus to get to see him and meet his girlfriend while we are on this bowling extravaganza.

So far, Indianapolis is a really nice little city. We went downtown for sushi the first night and it was such a clean, pretty city with lots of people out and about and a million restaurants and night spots. Very nice.

The weird thing about Indy is that everywhere you go, you get on several different highways to get there. One of them circles the city (Route 465) and you go from 465 South to 465 West and the next thing you know you’re on 465 North (I think). And if it weren’t for my GPS, I’d probably never get off of that circle.

Anyway, that’s my early update on our trip to Indianapolis. More to come . . .

Oooos and Aaaaahs

I love Independence Day. Christmas is my favorite holiday, but I’m pretty sure that July 4th is my next favorite holiday. It’s such a celebratory day. And it’s all about everything that I love about summer. Hot dogs on the grill, watermelon, playing outside, hanging out with friends and family and the anticipation as the sun slowly gives up and hands the day over to the night that there will be fireworks! And every year the fireworks get more amazing.

When I was really little, my family used to go to my Uncle’s house for July 4th. This wasn’t an Uncle whose house we ever went to for holidays, so there was something sort of extra exciting about it. He had a concrete driveway and his lawn was very perfectly manicured and the house was yellow with white trim. It was very friendly looking and hearkened back to a Mayberry-like neighborhood. I think there were even curbs and sidewalks and many picket fences. Anyway, when night finally came, we would all gather in his backyard after putting away the Lawn Jarts (remember them?) on blankets and those old aluminum web folding chairs.

Then we would all look to the sky until it would light up with amazing, colorful, brilliant explosions of theatrics and everyone would Ooooo and Aaaah.  I would sit on my dad’s lap and feel the contentment and security of holding such a dear position juxtaposed with the excitement of the sounds and sights in the sky.  It was magical.

After a few years, we started spending July 4th at the swim club where we were members and those were equally wonderful in a rather different way.  We were a bit older, so we would spend the day swimming, jumping off the diving boards, flying down the slides, running, playing, exploring the surrounding woods, sneaking onto the neighboring golf course, eating ice cream sandwiches and occasionally checking in with our parents, who were having their own types of fun.  When night came, we would gather at the opening in the trees by the golf course and have a perfect view of the fireworks.

Most recently, we have been spending our July 4th in a very similar fashion, and it makes me happy.  We have a group of friends with whom we spend every New Year’s Eve and every July 4th (and various other get-togethers throughout the year) and we go to Mark and Joan’s house.  We hang out in the backyard, talking and laughing and catching up on what’s going on in each others’ lives and there are always Bocce Ball games to keep everyone entertained.  Johnny makes his spicy shrimp on the grill and we all tease Mark about his obvious OCD tendencies which are evidenced in his perfect lawn.  It’s possible, maybe, perhaps, that some of us may have a smidge too much to drink.  The fireworks are not professional fireworks, but Mark always brings a variety of explosive goodies back from their last trip to the Carolinas (where all home fireworks are born, I’m pretty sure – I wonder if there is a high percentage of missing digits on the hands of the residents of North and South Carolina?).

The thing that really makes July 4th my favorite is that it is one day of every year that completely, perfectly and beautifully exemplifies what I love about our country.  It’s a hot dog, baseball and apple pie kind of day.  We sport our red, white and blue and we celebrate.  We laugh and we love and we do American things.  We are over-the-top, in-your-face, off-the-charts, patriotic, flag-waving Americans.  We are proud to be citizens of the most powerful country in the world and on this day, we don’t question that.  On this day, we don’t apologize for it.  On this day, we celebrate being Americans.

What better way to celebrate the abundance of all that is American than playing all day, cooking meat over an open flame and brilliant explosives in the sky when the sun goes down?

New gadgets

I won’t sleep well tonight.  I never sleep well.  But tonight I’ll be sleeping particularly poorly.  See, there’s a new gadget on the way to me.

It is right now, as we speak (as I write and as you read, unless you read this after tomorrow, Monday, June 28th) sitting in a Federal Express shipping facility in East Boston.  It’s sitting there and it’s thinking of me, as I am thinking of it.  It is longing for the day it will sit in my loving hands.  It is imagining the loving caress of my fingers.  It is fantasizing of the many ways it will serve me.  It is smiling as it knowingly imagines the great depth of pleasure it will bring to me as I gasp with serendipitous satisfaction over its many capabilities.

Tomorrow, I will welcome into the folds of my inner circle [of gadget love] a new Blackberry Bold 9700.

That’s right.  You heard me.  The [not so] elusive Blackberry Bold 9700 will be mine, all mine.  I have waited.  I have dreamed.  I have pictured us together as we walk into any number of 5-star restaurants, hand in hand.  Oh yes.  Dreams can come true.

I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking: “Sure you’ll get tired of this one too.  What of the old Blackberry, who you coveted and loved so dearly?  How could you be so fickle?”  You see, there is sadness in my heart as I retire my old Blackberry Curve.  She served me well.  She introduced me to a life of Research In Motion.  For this, I will be forever grateful.  I have tried to find a satisfactory home for her to no avail.  You see, I have provided a loving home for her for well past the contract date and am eligible for an upgrade and then some.  And in the more than two and a half years I have owned her, I am out of memory and continue to run into issues because applications and data has outgrown her capabilities.

Tomorrow will be an exciting day.

Is it bad that I love Wipeout?

I don’t enjoy stupid, slapstick comedy.  When you finish reading this post, you won’t believe that, but it’s true.  I’m just not amused by predictable, ridiculous physical gags that are designed to show humans at their lowest common denominator of stupidity.

Enter: Wipeout.  This show is basically a competition where human beings run through a crazy foam and vinyl-covered obstacle course which is specifically designed to pummel, pound, launch, spin, smash and fling the human figure eight ways from Sunday into a pool of water – at top speed.  No, wait – there’s more.  While these people are being physically abused and physiologically battered, there are hosts of the show who socially humiliate them.

Sounds brutal, yes?  But in a good way.

And I laugh.  Oh God, do I laugh.  With obstacles like The Big Balls, The Sweeper, The Dizzy Dummy and The Dreadmill, really — how can it not make you laugh?

These people run through this obstacle course at top speed and with each obstacle, the show has found a new way to bounce, fling and toss the human body akimbo into a pool of water and you sit there watching it, cringing and twisting and physically responding to each contestant’s remarkable journey through the obstacle course.  The object is simple.  The contestant who completes the course in the shortest amount of time wins $50,000.

The hosts are hysterical and Jon Henderson adds so much to the show with his John Madden-esque yellow marker drawings superimposed over the replays, as they nickname the contestants and follow along with quasi-sympathetic “Ooohs” and “Aaahs” and “Ouches” that add to the fun.

It’s not highbrow, cerebral humor.  I admit that.  But there is something so primal, so raw and so gut-reaction-can’t-help-but-crack-up funny about this show that it ranks at the top of my list of shows that I just have to watch each week to bring the world into perspective.

There’s just nothing like watching your fellow man get punched in the snot-locker with a big padded fist or slam into a big padded wall and drop like a dead fly into a pool of muddy water to lighten your mood and brighten your day.

Does that make me a bad person?

The end for now . . .

And now, the end is here

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I’ll say it clear

I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain . . .

I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption

I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

***

And so, I think it’s time to take my blog back and get back to my mostly light and fluffy blog posts about life, the universe and everything – from the perspective of one person, one parent, one wife, one friend, one woman, one citizen, one taxpayer, one voter, one American, one Mid-Western girl twice removed – from me.

Political activism is exhausting.  Who knew?

It’s not to say that I won’t follow up on the lunacy that I’ve learned is going on behind closed doors, just down the street, in the classrooms and meeting rooms in my little town, but for now, I rest.  I’ve learned a lot.

I’ve learned that the students in our towns are phenomenal people who support their classmates and have integrity, character, compassion and a strong sense of pride.

I’ve learned that the parents of those kids are intelligent, respectful, civil and neighborly.  With very few exceptions, those who engaged in discussion on this blog have done so in the spirit of healthy debate.  Kudos to you all and thank you for your contributions.

I’ve learned that no matter how often the mainstream media and so many of our public figures like to espouse their anti-American rhetoric — we are still, as a country, on the whole, flag-waving patriots who support our soldiers and embrace the principles of freedom for which those soldiers sacrifice to protect.

I’ve learned that the common sense and common decency of the common man has little chance of defeating the bureaucracy of big unions.  I’ve also learned that the Massachusetts Teachers Association will bankrupt every town and every city  in this state before we finally question and challenge their existence.  Talk about the power of the machine . . .

I’ve learned that it is true that one voice can be heard and can make a difference.

I’ve learned that the misguided, misplaced voices and actions of two teachers can have profound and lasting effects on not only their own community, but on the world.  And how sad and terribly unfortunate that they have so poorly [mis]represented their peers, because . . .

I’ve learned that there are far more teachers in this country (and I heard from teachers from all corners) who honor, respect and take very seriously the responsibilities of their chosen profession than those who put their own interests first.  These teachers work hard every day to uphold the basic principles of putting their students first, of teaching and not preaching, of educating and not indoctrinating, of facilitating a student’s ability to learn how to think and not what to think.  There are great teachers here and elsewhere who I respect a great deal.

I’ve learned a lot.  Thank you for coming along for the ride.

An Open Letter to Carol Woodbury, Superintendent of Dennis-Yarmouth Regional School District

Mrs. Woodbury,

Apparently, a more effective way for me to have had my say would have been to put it on a sign and hold it up while standing during the recognition of the kids for their Law Day posters.  Do you, does anyone see the hypocrisy in what was done to the citizens at the meeting last night?

Had anything I was going to say actually been “out of order” under parliamentary procedures, the Chairman would have been well within his right to say so.  But to insert an item – which was NOT on the agenda – before the citizens’ questions/comments item on the agenda because the Chairman was too afraid to face the citizens of this community is terribly unjust.

Committee member John Henderson asked that the citizens be allowed to speak, without comment by the Committee.  We have a right to speak.  It’s the reason why, BEFORE any other items on the agenda are covered, every meeting is meant to start with questions and/or comments by the citizens.  What possible harm is there in allowing the citizens to be heard in the appropriate forum and the appropriate format – as long as it is not disrespectful and disruptive?  On what authority does the Chairman have to limit and restrict what the public is entitled to address at a public meeting?

The district’s attorneys should have been present to defend the actions of this Committee if indeed, as I am sure was the case, this was their foolish scheme to shut me and others up, because you and the Committee will now take the heat for that.  And will it shut me up?  I think you know the answer to that.  This was never about me.  I have never (and I’ve lived here for 12 years – my son’s entire education was through the DY district) been one of those troublemakers who just likes to shout their views from every podium and seek their 15 minutes of fame.  That is why none of you know me, nor do any of the other administrators in the district.  I’m not a complainer or a disgruntled citizen who just wants to shout and scream over everything.

I am 100% right in what I am advocating here and I honestly believe that, sans a couple of the finer points perhaps, you agree with me.  I am passionate about this subject – so passionate as to have prompted this strong response from me.

Attorneys are hired to give advice.  It sure would be more reassuring to me if I felt that the people who solicited that advice had the intelligence to weigh their advice with their own common sense and common decency and then make the decisions the taxpayers elected them to make.

I have thought you to be a sincere, rational and kind person prior to last night, Mrs. Woodbury.  I have remained civil and respectful every time I have dealt with you and I have done my level best not to make this personal (although it is now beginning to feel very personal).  I am most personally disappointed with you because the civil, respectful and neighborly thing to do would have been to tell me before the meeting that it was going to be [mis]handled the way it was and that I would not be allowed to speak.  I called you and your office no less than four times (I think it was five times) this week and each time I confirmed that I would be at the meeting and what I would be speaking about.  I called the office as late as 4:00 yesterday afternoon.

I expect you to deny knowledge that the Chairman was going to pull this stunt.  But, I’m sorry.  I simply no longer believe what you say.  I no longer trust you.

The real irony is that what I was going to say was relatively innocuous and was designed to put an end to all of this.  Oops.

I have published what I was going to say below – and don’t worry – you may read it anonymously.

With regrets,  Susan Abbott

An Open Letter to the School Committee of the Dennis-Yarmouth Regional High School

If I, as a citizen, taxpayer, voter and parent of a student at Dennis-Yarmouth Regional High School had been allowed to speak to the elected officials who act as the School Committee – after following every protocol and advising the Superintendent on no less than 4 occasions this week that I wished to speak AND the subject upon which I would be addressing the Committee – this is what I intended to say:

“First and foremost, I want to clarify that my outrage is not, nor has it ever been, about the content or the position of the political propaganda which has been displayed or imposed on the students.  My personal position on the military isn’t relative and whether or not the position being expressed corresponds with my opinions is NOT the point.

And this is about a bigger issue than just what happened last Friday.  I think almost everyone agrees that what these teachers did was egregiously inappropriate and disrespectful.  But it is symptomatic of a bigger problem which has gone on before and it has gone on often – especially by these teachers.  The administration denies knowledge of that fact.  Whether or not they knew before, these teachers publicly dropped the mask on this “secret” and took away any deniability on the part of the administrators.

This is about the violation of the one basic tenet upon which every public school in this country is founded: that every child is entitled to receive an unbiased education in a neutral environment, free from discrimination.

Those who believe that teachers have a right to freedom of speech while “on the job” are sorely misinformed.  There is specific case law which spells out clearly that a teacher’s right to freedom of speech is NOT protected and must be subjugated to the principle of neutrality in a public school.  This is not MY OPINION nor the whim of ONE PARENT – this is supported and upheld by the United States Supreme Court and even the ACLU.  I have copies of case law and an article by the ACLU, if you’re interested.

I honestly believe that the national public scrutiny that I brought to this issue was necessary to elicit the changes and actions which are proportionate to the problem, and anything less would have resulted in significantly less resolution.

I’m pleased to say that I feel I’ve basically achieved my goals.

First, I believe (I certainly hope) that the school district will deal with these two teachers as severely as their attorneys advise them is possible.  Forced apologies are typically insincere, disingenuous and therefore meaningless.  I suggest that if we are unfortunate enough to have to suffer the continued employment of these two unworthy individuals in this district, then I suppose the only recourse will be the vigilance of every parent and every student to police their actions daily. Sad, but true.

Second, I have been told that the School Committee is formulating a policy to address the deficiency which exists district-wide regarding the prohibition of political advocacy on public school grounds by its employees.  I urge the Committee to ensure that the policy is thorough and clear and that it is then enforced with an even, balanced and objective hand.  I implore parents and students to notify the administration ANY time they are aware that the policy has been violated.  I should have called the schools every time over the past six years when my son complained of it, but it was apparent to me by the frequency with which it occurred that it was a well-known accepted practice, so I dealt with the incidents privately, between my son and me.

Third, I hoped to give a voice to six seniors whose one opportunity to be honored by their peers and role models, was tainted by the actions of two selfish teachers.  By and large, with very few exceptions, our six brave young men and women have now been honored by the entire nation!  The student body of DY has shown tremendous compassion, consideration, support and character.  I think every parent has so much to be proud of.

Lastly, I felt obligated to my son to show him that – although it took the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back – one voice can make a difference.  And I think mine has.

I have one question which I would like to put to the Committee.  Will you assure the parents and taxpayers of Dennis and Yarmouth that every possible avenue will be taken to proportionately discipline these teachers and responsibly set forth the necessary policies to prohibit all acts of political advocacy on public school grounds by public school employees in the future?

Thank you for your time.”

I do not doubt that the Chairman was acting on the advice of the district’s attorneys.  Am I the only one who sees the hypocrisy in this situation?  It is readily tolerated and accepted that teachers, whose right to speak freely is legislatively restricted while they are being paid as public servants, say whatever they want, whenever they want, in any venue they choose – but when a citizen attends a PUBLIC School Committee meeting, follows every possible protocol for being recognized to speak (complete with giving notice to the Superintendent on the subject of said speech) – I am told I am OUT OF ORDER.

Am I living in a parallel universe here?  Where right is wrong and wrong is right and up is down and down is up?

The above letter is what I WAS going to say.  Now, I have this to say to the School Committee:  You are short-sighted, small-minded and foolish.  I will not speak for everyone who was at the meeting to be heard, but I will tell you that I – who nearly single-handedly brought national attention to the deficiencies in this district in a mere four days (the same amount of time it took the Cape Cod Times to print a story on it, although they were the first news outlet I contacted!) – was rather looking forward to having my final, respectful, rational, on-point say on this matter, so that I could close the book on the issue and feel satisfied that something appropriate had been accomplished.

Was that “out of order”?  It strikes me as a prudent and effective way to diffuse a very heated issue.

Fools.  Each and every one of you are fools and your [MY] attorneys are bigger fools.  Instead of diffusing the situation, you fanned the flames back to a wildfire.

Shut Down. Surprised? Maybe I shouldn’t be

At the beginning of the School Committee meeting tonight, the first matter on the actual Agenda – as is stated in the public policy of the School Committee is Citizen Questions/Comments.  However, the Chairman interrupted the agenda to read a prepared letter.  Basically, the letter vaguely described “an incident” which occurred last week which upset many parents and students.  Now, I’m paraphrasing here, but in essence, the Chairman indicated that any matter of disciplinary action involving teachers is a personnel matter and therefore it is a private matter.  Also, the Committee is not responsible for making disciplinary decisions with regard to teachers.  I understand that it is the school administration who is responsible for making those decisions – I knew this going in but was told that I should air my grievances to the School Committee by the administrators!  He then indicated that the Committee is in the process of formulating a policy which relates to this issue.

I began to read my statement and I uttered ten words and was told that I was out of order.  The Chairman stated that they would not hear anything regarding the incident last week.  I asked if I would be out of order if I addressed the Committee about the policy which they are formulating, since that IS the Committee’s responsibility and policies are matters of public record.  This seemed to confuse them a bit and the Superintendent and the Chairman bowed their heads in whispers for a moment, then the Chairman told me that too would be out of order.  The Superintendent expressed that there is a standard protocol to be followed for developing policies and that first the subcommittee must meet and then there are several meetings and that when the policy is to be discussed at a School Committee meeting, she’d be happy to let me know.  I told her I would appreciate that.  The very fact that was most telling in this is that the Superintendent described the process that “would” take place, NOT that was already in process.  Interesting.  They want everyone to believe that the Committee was ahead of the situation in developing a policy.  I never believed that, but it seems the Superintendent just admitted it.  Oops.

I said something to the effect of: So, we’re not allowed to speak in any way about what happened last week?  That’s it?  Basically, the citizens have no say and cannot be heard?  They sat there looking at me like scared, guilty children and I stood up and expressed that I thought this was pathetic (or something like that – I was in shock and frankly, I don’t remember exactly what I said) and turned to walk out.  As I reached the door, another woman approached the microphone and began to talk about not speaking to the specific issue but wanting to discuss something about the United Nations (!!!) on the issue and she too was told that she was out of order.  She offered to give them the materials that she brought and I spoke up and said “As did I!” and I walked back up to the table and handed copies of  case law and the article by the ACLU which I said “might be useful in developing the policy, for what it’s worth.  No sense in wasting the paper.”

One Committee member, John Henderson (a voice of sanity and reason, perhaps?), asked if the Committee could hear the citizens but not respond and the Chairman told him no.

Funny, really.  Because I was going to have my say and then I assumed the issue would rot on the vine, as these things do.

I was only going to have my final say in front of the School Committee, in that limited format.  And do you want to know the funniest part?  What I wanted to be heard on was in great part, to give them credit for the hope I had that they would take the appropriate responsible, necessary actions which would be proportionate to the events.

I spoke to the Superintendent and to the Superintendent’s office four or five times this week and I specifically told her assistant the topic of what I wished to speak about.  I called to confirm this each day.  An ounce of civility and respect might have been called for in notifying me that there was no point.

Apparently, only paid public servants are allowed to speak freely in whatever format they choose, whenever they wish – even when it is OUT OF ORDER.  But if  a citizen of this town, a taxpayer, a voter and a parent of one their students wishes to be heard, takes every single possible step to follow proper protocol and is in line with parliamentary procedure – we have no say.

Interesting.  I think I shall have my say.

Fox & Friends Coverage!

Fox & Friends wants to do a story on what’s going on at Dennis-Yarmouth High School!  I’ll keep you posted as I know the details.  I wanted to get this to the nation’s attention and it looks like I’ve succeeded!  Thank you everyone for your interest!

School Committee Meeting has been rescheduled

The School Committee meeting has been rescheduled from next Monday to this Thursday, June 17th at 7:30pm at Station Avenue Elementary School.  I intend to attend and be heard on this matter.  I will also be attending the Town meeting when the budget override will be discussed since I can’t stomach the idea of not only paying the salaries of these teachers and the administrators who don’t have the gumption to properly discipline them, but to give them a raise!

Freedom of Speech for teachers is not protected in the classroom

Interesting article by the ACLU that supports my position . . .

http://www.aclu-wa.org/news/free-speech-rights-public-school-teachers

It’s time to take back our schools

http://wbztv.com/video/?id=90267@wbz.dayport.com

Yesterday at my son’s school, there was an assembly to recognize the seniors.  During that assembly, a member of the Yarmouth Police Department was giving a speech to honor the seniors who had chosen to enlist in the military upon graduation and during that speech, a teacher displayed a sign which read “End War.”  While the National Anthem was being played and everyone rose with their right hands over their hearts, she held up a Peace sign instead.  As if this sort of anti-war protest isn’t inappropriate enough on public school grounds, during school hours, at an important school event, the real travesty was when everyone in the school stood to give a standing ovation to these six brave young men and women, and these two idiot teachers sat down and refused to applaud.

The sign reads "End War"

Spencer sent me a text message immediately to express how angry and upset this made him.  Once I got the entire story from him, I called the school principal to discuss the event.  I was told, in essence, that the school does not condone these two teachers’ actions and that they will be weighing their options and they will deal with it internally.  I told the principal that after listening to my son come home for the last six years, since middle school, telling me story after story about teachers who were using their classrooms as platforms to further their personal political agendas, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me and that I would be contacting the media.  He suggested I call the Superintendent of schools, which I next did.  I had a rather lengthy conversation with her and although she agreed with me entirely in principle, she indicated that the situation would be dealt with by the principal.  I explained that I would be contacting the media and that with the Dennis-Yarmouth Regional School District looking to the taxpayers for yet another budget override within the month, I hoped that perhaps the administrators of these schools might find the motivation to respond more strenuously to the actions of their teachers when it brings such negative public scrutiny to the district and puts the district’s goals at risk.

The Superintendent spent a great deal of time and effort trying to talk me out of going to the media.

My next call was to the Cape Cod Times, our ridiculously liberal rag of a local newspaper, and I left a message with someone at the newsroom.  Ironically, the only story that I’ve found thus far today in the paper is about a silly prank pulled by a small number of juniors against the seniors – typical, silly kid stuff.

Next, I sent an email to WBZ TV, the CBS affiliate in Boston.  Late in the afternoon, I received a phone call from Beth Germano, a reporter for WBZ that they were on their way to the Cape and would like to interview me.  I gave her the names of the teachers, the principal and the Superintendent.  WBZ stopped by to interview the teacher first – and you can watch a portion of that interview from the link above – and then went to the local middle school to interview two of the seniors who were being honored, a freshman who was present at the assembly, the principal and me.  The piece was only going to be one minute and thirty seconds long, so my interview was not shown.

After seeing the story aired and hearing the teacher’s words and the principal’s words – I am even more incensed by the whole thing.  What happened yesterday was appalling, inappropriate, disrespectful and proved without question that my tax dollars are paying two public servants who openly abuse their trusted positions of authority with our children.  The fall-out proves that my tax dollars are also paying the administrators who “cannot guarantee that disciplinary action will be taken against these teachers.”

But the other parts of the story were not told and I feel that there is much more wrong with what happened yesterday than the obvious inappropriateness of these teachers’ actions.

There is one basic tenet that the public school systems in this country are founded on which is being violated on a daily, rampant basis and no one is willing to expose this dirty, little secret because it furthers the interests of the administration as well.  In this country, every child is entitled to earn an education in a neutral environment, free from discrimination.  The point is argued continuously and consistently all around the nation – but only when it suits the administration to do so.  When it’s a question of “separation of church and state” or gay rights or any number of other topics, these teachers and administrators wave their flag of neutrality like a banner, but when it comes to remaining neutral about voicing and demonstrating their personal political agendas (which will pay their salary and provide more and more protection and benefits for them, and them alone), then it’s a matter of the First Amendment of the Constitution.

The hypocrisy has to stop and we have to find a way to take our schools back.

No child should ever have to walk the halls of a public school (which is paid for by the child’s parents’ tax dollars) and be concerned that even one teacher may judge him, disapprove of him, or God forbid – which is what happened here yesterday – publicly shun him for having the courage, pride and honor to choose to serve this country and defend that teacher’s right to have an opposing opinion to his choice.

I too will defend these teachers’ rights to have their opinions and to express their opinions openly until the day I die.  But they are not entitled, they do not have the right to do it on public school grounds, when they are being paid to be public servants.

Teachers hold trusted positions of authority and we teach our children to respect their teachers and to trust and have faith in them.  We believe that we are sending our children to a school which will provide a safe, neutral environment.  We expect our teachers to teach our children and impart knowledge and facts in various subjects via a specific curriculum.  It is the basic tenet of neutrality that I vehemently support in the public school systems.  It infuriates me to know that it is being blatantly and rampantly violated each and every day.  Yesterday, the violation of this tenet was egregious, disrespectful, poorly timed, inappropriate and the teachers who had the unmitigated gall to perpetrate it should be held accountable for such abuse of their positions.  And if the school administrators do not have the gumption to do so, I believe they are equally responsible.

These six seniors had one opportunity to be honored and recognized by their peers and by their role models.  They had one day and one event which was dedicated to them.  These two selfish imbeciles took it upon themselves to steal this time and the spotlight away from these young people.  In three months, these two women will have every opportunity (after all, they only work 180 days a year!!!!) to exercise their right to protest the war on their time as they wish, but these six young men and women will be learning the skills needed to defend their right to do so.  And next year, when my taxes will still be paying the salaries of these two worthless, selfish PUBLIC SERVANTS, they will have the opportunity to attend the senior assembly of another graduating class and these six young men and women may well be under fire and fighting to survive in a foreign land, with nothing more than a distant memory of a day when they were to be honored for their courage, but it was stolen by these teachers.

I hope Ms. Marybeth Verani and Ms. Adeline Koscher are terribly proud of themselves. How cowardly to take advantage of their positions and steal the spotlight away from the students in their charge.  And they will surely be rewarded by the school administration with a continued paycheck and a pat on the back for a job well done.

When will we find a way to take our schools back and bring back the principles that our forefathers intended?  There is no valor in hiding behind the First Amendment only when it suits your purposes.  Freedom of speech is a powerful thing, and I intend to exercise mine – at top volume.

Those were the days, my friend. I thought they’d never end.

And now, here we are, and my adorable, curly blond-haired, little boy is all grown up.  Next year, Spencer enters his senior year in high school.  He must be a screaming genius because he was in first grade last year.  It seems like that anyway.

I used to worry because he wasn’t able to jump up and down on one leg at the estimated average age (yes, this was actually something gauged by his daycare center!).  Now I worry about him being a good driver.

I used to worry about him being bitten [again] by that mean little toddler who used to bite.  Now I worry about him getting his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

I used to worry that he would never learn to say his Rs properly.  Now I worry about him learning to handle his finances properly.

There are no shortage of worries when you’re a parent.  But I am absolutely amazed at the rewards and satisfaction that comes in the end.  I’m not much the mommy-type.  I don’t really like kids that much.  I was never one of those girls who couldn’t wait to grow up, get married and have a whole slew of children.  I’m almost never giddy over seeing cute little kiddies in restaurants or malls.  And I never wanted to be the mom that had all the kids over at my house.  Eww.  Just wasn’t me.

While I was pregnant, I read the pregnancy bible (What to Expect When You’re Expecting) and was very pragmatic about all the preparations.  Then I went to the hospital to have this baby (in on a Tuesday, out on a Thursday – almost exactly 48 hours), and suddenly there was this skinny, little alien creature in my arms and those silly people at the hospital actually looked confident and nonchalant about letting me just trot right out into the world with it.  I kept looking over my shoulder to see if someone was going to stop me and take it back.  You know how when you get the most fabulous pair of shoes or the perfect dress for $6 and you feel like you shoplifted it?  Same thing.

The first year of my son’s life was very easy for me.  He was the best baby in the whole world.  Yep.  The best.  He slept well, breastfeeding was a breeze, he wasn’t colicky, he was generally a very low-maintenance baby.  After I got over the initial shock and weirdness of knowing that somehow I brought this little person into the world [out of me!] and now I had to keep it alive and safe and clean and fed – and I learned that I really was capable of manning these responsibilities, sans mommy instinct – well, that first year was pretty easy.  I think of that time as the “grab and go” time.  I could grab Spencer and his diaper bag and go anywhere.  He wasn’t walking yet, so he stayed where he was put and he was always happy.

The toddler years were mostly a blast.  He was still a really easy child and adapted well to pretty much everything.  Those were the years where I was most amazed to see the world through such different eyes – through learning-about-everything-for-the-very-first-time eyes.  Anyone who has spent time around toddlers knows exactly what I mean.  It’s a very cool time indeed.

Grade school and middle school years were definitely the toughest.  It hurt to watch my son experience such real emotions for the first time.  All of a sudden, he was experiencing the world on his own, away from the safety and security of the unconditional love of his parents.  Grade school and middle school is when kids learn that everyone doesn’t like them, that they aren’t the best at everything, that everything isn’t always fair, and they start seeing themselves not through the eyes of their loving parents – but through the eyes of how they think teachers and other kids see them.

High school was better.  Spencer sort of came into his own and found his footing in high school.  He’s still too hard on himself, but he is also much more sure of himself and he seems comfortable with who he is.

I spent a lot of my son’s childhood in quiet worry (the kind that just sort of loiters in the door frame down the hall in the back of your mind, smoking a cigarette, waiting for you to glance back over your shoulder and pay it some attention – ever present).

The last few years have been a lot like watching a balloon very slowly inflate, blow-by-blow.  Little by little, Spencer was filling out into the man he will become.   It’s true what they say about teenagers and toddlers being similar.  Big changes come in spurts.  There are periods of quiet between those spurts but the spurts are exciting and scary at the same time.

It is remarkable how quickly the time has passed through all the stages of my son’s childhood.  Now, instead of being acutely aware of all of the firsts in his life, I am ever more aware of the lasts in his childhood.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus said “Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong as its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away.”

Is there anything to eat?

Of course there is.  There’s Spicy Honey Mustard and garlic-stuffed olives.  Or, if you’re looking for something lighter, there is plain yogurt that expired in 2007 in the back of the refrigerator and a can of beef consommé.  And I could always whip up some tasty canned salmon and sweetened condensed milk.

My cupboards are chock full of crap that no one can eat.  It was all used to make some fabulous dish at one time or another.  Or, God forbid, I went to the store hungry once and bought everything in the store if it said “New and Improved” or “Better Flavor” or it came in new packaging, only to taste it and learn [yet again] that if I didn’t like the original, no amount of newness, improvement, flavor enhancement or pretty packaging would make it edible this time around.

I’m notorious for leaving a plethora of bottles, jars and plastic containers of condiments in the back of the refrigerator until I’m pretty sure when I close the door there is a Hot Samba Dance Party going on, complete with maracas and tambourines and fruit headdresses, in the back of my fridge.  Fun for the old condiments, but not so much for the poor sap who accidentally digs back there in search of a bottle of mustard!

On the other hand, I can’t count the amazing one-dish wonders I have whipped up with a couple of left over pork chops or chicken thighs, some canned beans, pasta or rice, a jar of roasted red peppers and some olives.  Toss ingredients with a sauce of your choice and Voilà!

But that’s cold comfort for a hungry 17-year-old kid looking for some yummy crap to stuff in his gullet. Even my husband has been looking wanly through the cupboards and refrigerator and asking that damned question: “Is there anything to eat?”

So, I just spent $283 at the grocery store.  YES.  NOW, there is something to eat.

If the dancing Samba condiments in the back of the fridge don’t get to it first.

In memoriam

Well, it is Memorial Day, so it stands to reason that time should be spent honoring those who died valiantly for a cause greater than themselves.

I’m not sure if the dead bird that my sweet, fuzzy, loving, [bloodthirsty, carnivorous] little dog, Aggie was running around the back yard with in her mouth died defending its country – but let’s assume so.

Last night, when I let Aggie out for the last time of the night, she was out for a very long time.  This is never a good sign and it rarely ends well.  You see, we moved into this house a year ago and since then, Aggie has caught, killed and partially eaten three rabbits in our back yard.  It’s awful – for us and especially for the rabbits.  But for Aggie, she has honed her skills and has reached a level of hunting zen the likes for which her great-great-great-great-great ancestors would have beamed with pride.

After each unfortunate critter meets its untimely demise at the hands [teeth] of our little fuzz-bucket Aggie, she is proud and I mean from the inside out.  You can see pride in the way she carries herself and in the sparkle in her eyes [and yes, in the blood on her whiskers].  You know how dogs always know when they’ve done something wrong and they slink around with their tail between their legs, looking at you sheepishly out of the corners of their down-turned eyes?  Nope.  Not Aggie.  Not after she has just performed the very job she was bred and put on this earth to do.  She has earned her keep and she is proud.

Marty managed to get Aggie to drop whatever it was she had in her mouth last night and grab her to get her inside, but it was too dark to see what it was.  This morning when I let her out, she ran directly to the spot where she left it and picked it up.  I called her name and – the race was on!  Well, okay.  I don’t race.  I don’t even run.  I strategically place myself in the middle of her running path and hope for the best.  I used the same method of distraction Marty used last night and she dropped her treasure to investigate.  I took a rake and picked up the little bird and tossed it over the fence.  Crisis averted, I took a moment to memorialize the end of the little feathered creature’s life.  Sad.  But truthfully, it had been dead for some time so I don’t think my Aggie can take credit for this one.

And this time, at least she wasn’t eating it.  She was just carrying it around like a tennis ball.

Sweet Aggie