Author: brendagmarler

There was an interruption in my access to the internet on Monday of this week. For one whole day my internet was out. If someone would have asked me before if I would miss access to the internet, I would have said, “No. That wouldn’t bother me a bit.” However, I learned that it did indeed bother me. Then on Tuesday the keyboard on my laptop started to act up. This is not good for a writer. In fact, it is very annoying. I will be taking my laptop to the store to have it sent in to be fixed later today.

In light of these technology struggles, I have been reminiscing about the times when I did not have to struggle with things like the internet and laptops. Many people call those times the good old days. In some ways they were better, and in many ways they were not.

One thing that’s vastly different is the phone. There wasn’t any call-waiting, caller ID, or voicemail. The phone had a rotary dial. I remember dialing a number and then messing up at the end and having to start all over. I didn’t think anything could be better than a touch-tone phone. We also had to remember phone numbers or write them down. When you got a phone call, you rushed to answer even though you didn’t know who was calling. I grew up with a 3 minute limit on phone calls. I remember my brother getting on an extension phone and telling me that my 3 minutes were up. Quite embarrassing.

My grandchildren would be aghast to know that we didn’t have video games. We had bicycles, trees to climb, friends to play with, and board games. There were no iPods. I had a record player and vinyl records. I could also listen to a radio. I’ll never forget my first transistor radio. I also remember having an 8 track player in my car, and a portable 8 track player in my college dorm room. It’s an experience while listening to music to have the music fade out, then hear a click as the tape changes tracks, and then have the music come back in. We just got used to it. Then along came Walkmans. Those were great because they played cassette tapes and were easily carried along. It was really high tech when cassette players were able to play both sides of a tape automatically.

When my older two grandchildren were 6 1/2 and 4 1/2 we ate at a 50’s themed restaurant. It was funny how they were captured by the black and white televisions. It was also Christmas time and the restaurant was decorated with silver aluminum Christmas trees with the color light wheels. I remember those well. I can still hear the sound the branches made when we removed them from their paper sleeves. As for black and white televisions, my parents didn’t get a color television until I was in 10th grade. I was mesmerized by the beautiful colors.

Another thing about televisions was that if you wanted to watch a show you had to watch it when it came on. There was no taping it (or recording it) to watch later. I hated it that Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color would show on Sunday evening while I was at church. I remember going through the TV guide on Sunday afternoon and looking for shows I wanted to watch during the next week. We also watched only one channel at a time. My kids can remember the time when we only had a 19 inch TV without a remote control. That TV would NOT die.

I was also very glad when my parents finally got a dishwasher. When hand washing dishes it was very annoying to have to stop washing in order to clear out the dish drainer by drying and putting away the dishes already cleaned.

Yep. Those were the good old days. Black and white TV, no video games, no iPhones, aluminum Christmas trees, washing dishes by hand, 8 track tapes, etc. Technology has come a long way in every area of life.

However, those days were great in many ways. I could walk to school without worrying about some predator stalking me. I played outside for hours–even in the snow. I spent a summer in the small town of Godley, Texas with my grandparents. I roamed all over the town without a care in the world. Times seemed to be simpler then and not as hectic.

I love technology and how it helps us in so many ways every day. I’m just glad to have grandchildren who can help me learn how to use these new fangled contraptions.

Fate was not kind when it gave me a sweet tooth and then later on a diagnosis of type II diabetes. When I was a kid, my mother always had cookies in the cookie jar and other types of snacks. All three of us kids were skinny. In fact, I was skinny to the point of being bony. How I hated my bony knees and elbows! I didn’t like to wear summer clothes because my knees and elbows would show. I weighed about 110 pounds when I graduated from high school. If I ever gained weight, it was in my stomach. When I was pregnant, you could not tell by looking at me from the back. I still have a sweet tooth and love everything chocolate.

I was so stressed during my last few years of teaching that I gained approximately 5 pounds a year. Before I knew it, I was 30 pounds overweight. I kept chocolate in my cabinet at school for those “chocolate” days. Soon, it seemed that every day was a chocolate day. Before I knew it, I was 30 pounds overweight. Let’s just say that it’s easy to put on those pounds. It’s a much different matter to take them off.

My A1C was up at my last doctor visit. She wanted to put me on another medication. I resisted because of the side affects. So I’ve been trying to keep my blood sugar down and lose a few pounds. I managed to lose a few pounds, but I’m not too sure about my blood sugar levels.

I had a doctor’s appointment with my primary care doctor this morning. I really didn’t want to go. I figured she would get mad at me for not keeping my blood sugar levels under control. She didn’t get mad, but replaced one of my medications. I will need to be really good this time.

I KNOW that diabetes can cause problems with your feet, heart, eyes, and much more. That alone scares me into getting everything under control. But it’s tough. I like carbs. Most of us do. I just hope that the blood work the doctor took today will show that my A1C is down a little.

So–for the sake of my health, I will be working harder on getting my blood sugar under control and losing my excess weight. But I may need to quit driving. On my way to my appointment this morning, I was behind a truck with Chips Ahoy Chocolate Chip cookies all over it. I was also craving ice cream yesterday which I’m proud to say, I resisted. I can’t watch TV either. Do you know how many commercials there are for things like Blue Bell ice cream, candy, pizza, and other junk food? Too many!! I would like to go look for some Chips Ahoy cookies, but I’ll settle for a glass of V8 juice.

Oh, me…I really need some chocolate!

The funerals of two well-known people took place last week. One funeral lasted nearly an unbelievable eight hours. The other took place over several days. I’ve also attended several funerals during the last few months. Family members and friends were eager to share their wonderful memories of the deceased.

I have also read during the years, several scathing obituaries describing the deceased as abusive, adulterous, with no redeeming qualities, and generally evil. How sad for those families that they are relieved at the death of a family member.

It makes me wonder sometimes what people will say about me at my funeral. Who will be there? What will they remember about me? What will be my legacy?

First of all, I hope to be remembered as a devout Christian. I have sought to live my life the way God wants me to. I have tried to be obedient to God’s will. I made Jesus Christ not only my savior but also my Lord. I want to live like Him. I have failed to be like Jesus many times, but the desire is there. I ask for forgiveness and try again.

Secondly, I hope to be remembered as a loving wife, mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, and etc. I made a lot of mistakes with my daughters, but I love them dearly. I also love my grandchildren and enjoy the time I spend with them. I also love to spoil those grandchildren much to the chagrin of my daughters. I just tell them that I learned how to spoil grandchildren from my mother. Someday, they will have their turn to spoil grandchildren. I hope I have taught them well.

I also hope to be remembered as a woman of prayer. I pray regularly for my family and friends. I also pray for wisdom and guidance. I read my Bible and seek God’s word.

Most of all, when I reach Heaven, I hope my Lord and savior will say to me:

“Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!” (Matthew 25:21 NIV)

The picture above was taken of the white board on my back door. My sweet granddaughter wrote this note for me on behalf of her and her brother. I don’t think she’ll ever know what a blessing this is to me.

I hope my legacy will make people smile and be glad they knew me. I hope the world is a better place because I’m here. I hope I’ve made a positive difference in the lives of those around me.

Does anyone else wonder what his/her legacy will be?

 

Lucky are those who are taught to be obedient by their parents.

The following scripture has always bugged me.

They set the ark of God on a new cart and brought it from the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill. Uzzah and Ahio, sons of Abinadab, were guiding the new cart with the ark of God on it, and Ahio was walking in front of it. David and the whole house of Israel were celebrating with all their might before the Lord, with songs and with harps, lyres, tambourines, sistrums, and cymbals.

When they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out and took hold of the ark of God, because the oxen stumbled. The Lord’s anger burned against Uzzah because of his irreverent act; therefore God struck him down and he died there beside the ark of God. (2 Samuel 6: 3-7 NIV)

Why did God kill Uzzah? He was just trying to keep the ark from falling. He was just trying to be helpful. I’m sure his intentions were good, but good intentions still don’t change the fact that Uzzah disobeyed the rules regarding the ark. The ark could not be touched. God requires his people to be obedient.

One person who had a very difficult time with obedience was King Saul.

Saul remained at Gilgal, and all the troops with him were quaking with fear. He waited seven days, the time set by Samuel; but Samuel did not come to Gilgal, and Saul’s men began to scatter. So he said, “Bring me the burnt offering and the fellowship offerings.” And Saul offered up the burnt offering. Just as he finished making the offering, Samuel arrived, and Saul went out to greet him.

“What have you done?” asked Samuel.

Saul replied, “When I saw that the men were scattering, and that you did not come at the set time, and that the Philistines were assembling at Micmash, I thought ‘Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the Lord’s favor.’ So I felt compelled to offer the burnt offering.”

“You acted foolishly,” Samuel said. “You have not kept the command the Lord your God gave you; if you had, he would have established your kingdom over Israel for all time. But now your kingdom will not endure; the Lord has sought out a man after his own heart and appointed him leader of his people, because you have not kept the Lord’s command.” (1 Samuel 13: 7b-14 NIV)

Saul also didn’t obey when he attacked the Amalekites. God rejected him as king over Israel. He was punished for his disobedience.

I wonder how many of us are guilty of receiving instructions from God and then ignoring those instructions. We might say to ourselves, “I really don’t want to do that. I will do something else for God.” Or we may not even seek God’s will. We just charge ahead. Then we get upset because it doesn’t work out the way we hoped it would.

When I was still teaching, my students would ask me if they could help me with something. I would tell them that they could help me most by doing what I had asked them to do. The same went for my children.

There are many scriptures which talk about God’s blessings for obedience and God’s punishment for disobedience.

God requires our obedience, just like parents require obedience from their children. He will be faithful to bless us for our obedience. I haven’t always been perfectly obedient, but I have been abundantly blessed when I have been obedient. God’s blessings are worth more than gold and well worth seeking.

The words, “I’m sorry, ” are heard a lot these days. Then again they aren’t heard at all when they should be spoken.

There are two types of apologies. One is sincere, and the other is insincere. Simple. The type of apologies thrown around these days are insincere. There are celebrities who say or do something they shouldn’t do; and when they are called out for it and faced with the consequences, they quickly offer an apology. I really don’t think these celebrities are sorry at all. They are just sorry that they have been called out for whatever they said or did. If they are sincerely apologetic, why didn’t they stop and think before their actions and/or words? Some celebrities even have to audacity to call back their apologies. Really? These apologies remind me of children who are forced to apologize for something, and they don’t really mean it. The apology is totally meaningless.

What we need more of today are apologies that really mean something and are sincere.

I have been stabbed in the back by coworkers. One particular incident stands out to me. I was out of the classroom for a couple of days to attend a technology conference, and one coworker went behind my back to my principal and then smugly stood in my classroom while my principal corrected me the day I returned. First of all, this coworker and principal did not have nearly the teaching experience I had. Secondly, the principal had never taught in an elementary classroom. So I have no idea where these two got the impression that they could do my job better and tell me how to do it. Later that afternoon I told off that coworker and told her that she had no business telling me how to do my job. I told her that she certainly should not have gone to the principal. The following year she was being so sweetly nice. I guess she was trying to make up to me. She would have done better with a genuine apology. In all the times I have been stabbed in the back, there has never been an apology.

I have had various people mistreat and bad-mouth my children. There was never an apology. In fact, one person now praises my daughter, but she has never apologized for what she said.

I am human. I make mistakes. We all do. I’ve had parents of my students come to talk with me about something I did that was wrong. I swallowed my pride, called that student aside, and apologized. There were times when I apologized to the whole class if I felt that I had been unfair.

When I had a particularly bad day with one of my daughters when they were young, I would go to that child’s bedroom that night and tell them I’m sorry and that I really love them. (I just didn’t love what they did.)

In the seventies, the movie “Love Story” was released. The main line from that movie was, “Love means never having to say your sorry.” WRONG! You do need to say you’re sorry when you do something that hurts or offends.

23 Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee;

24 Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift. Matthew 5:23-24 KJV

Giving a sincere apology is necessary in order to be reconciled to others. Is it tough to say, “I’m sorry.”? You bet. What we need are more people mature enough and brave enough to offer an apology.

So–think about what you say and do before you say it or do it. Offer a heartfelt apology if you’ve hurt or offended someone.

I want to make sure I do my best to live my life without regrets.

All of us have seen people or know people who do not think the rules apply to them. Maybe they think they are above the rules. Maybe they don’t know what the rules are. Maybe they just don’t care. Whatever the case, these people are annoying at best and dangerous at worst.

I have told my grandkids that my rules are for their safety and well-being. I don’t have arbitrary rules in place for them. I care deeply for them. For example, until you reach a certain age you must hold my hand when in a parking lot or near a road. You need to brush your teeth each night before going to bed. You need to wash your hands after using the bathroom. You must be buckled up properly in the car.

Some rules are there to show respect. I don’t care if the grandkids trash the living room while they are here, but they need to pick up the toys and put them away before leaving to go home. They need to do this out of respect for me.

Most laws are made to ensure safety and to show respect.

I live in the country, outside the city limits. Twice a year, on New Year’s Eve and July 4th, people around me shoot off fireworks. I hate them. They are loud and many times they keep going off until the wee hours of the morning. Also, New Year’s Eve and July 4th are very dry in my area. I always pray for rain during these two times. This year we had a very hot and dry month of June. When the temperatures outside are 100 degrees or more, my sprinklers just don’t make up for the lack of rain. Driving around my neighborhood, I noticed many yards with dry grass. Common sense should tell you that it would have been dangerous to shoot off fireworks. I’m convinced a lot of people who live near me don’t have any common sense. On July 3rd, the county commissioners added fireworks to the burn ban. The county had seen some wild fires. The griping on FaceBook was unbelievable. There were several comments about how they had already purchased several hundred dollars worth of fireworks and how the kids would be greatly disappointed. It appalled me that so many people could have so little concern about the possibility of starting a wildfire. Of course, it could never happen to THEM. Fireworks can start fires. Fireworks can cause injuries. Fireworks are dangerous. There are statistics to prove this.

Most years I hear fireworks for at least a week before the holiday. This year was no different. And as I expected, fireworks were going off on the evening of July 4th. I heard them in all directions around me. Either these people did not get the fireworks ban memo, or they just didn’t care. My response to someone trying to tell me that they didn’t know of the ban would be, “All you have to do is look around and see that is too dry for fireworks.” I guess my safety is not as important as these people having fun. It would not be fun to have my house burn down. There are so many things that are not replaceable, like the afghan my grandmother made me before I went to college.

I recently attended a Donny & Marie concert. Yes. I will admit I was an Osmond fan in junior high. My husband and I had good seats, and I was hoping to get a picture or two during the concert. That was not to be. Before the concert began it was clearly stated that taking photographs and videos would not be allowed. I sighed as I put my cell phone away. However, I could not believe the number of people who blatantly ignored this request. In just the area around me, there had to be at least 15 people (women) with cell phones out taking pictures and videos. One woman in particular was videoing during much of the concert. A security person even came by and told everyone to put the cell phones away. As soon as the security person left, the phones came out again. Maybe they should have said that no cell phones or cameras were allowed inside. However, I’m sure even that wouldn’t have stopped some people. They would have smuggled them inside. The people taking pictures and videos showed a complete lack of respect for the artists on stage.

Would you like to be safe and respected? Then you need to do the same for others and follow the rules.

P.S. The picture accompanying this blog was taken before the concert started.

My husband and I recently made a trip to Colorado Springs, Colorado. While there I thought it would be nice to take a horseback ride through Garden of the Gods. In the past we have driven through the park, making photo stops. A horseback ride would give us a different perspective. Of course, I found out that the perspective you get depends on the horse assigned to you. Don’t let that sweet, innocent-looking horse in the picture fool you, and I’m smiling because the ride was over.

When I was about 12 or 13 years old, my parents let me take a year of riding lessons. I really enjoyed those lessons. I felt like I was getting the hang of riding a horse quite well. I progressed quickly from walk to trot to canter. I also got to go riding at other times when it was not my lesson. The stable had some very nice trails. However, those lessons were decades ago. When I filled out the paperwork for the Garden of the Gods ride, I checked beginner. They did have a category called, “Never been on a horse,” but I didn’t think I needed to check that one. Beginner described me just fine.

We got to the stable about 30 minutes before our assigned ride time. We got our riding helmets and waited. A wrangler came around and assigned each of us a horse. I was assigned to Friday. Okay. No worries.

Then the owner of the stables came over to give us instructions on how to “drive” our horses. Rules included keeping your horse at a walk and allowing a space the length of a horse between you and the horse in front of you. Then the owner asked us our assigned horses. When I mentioned I had Friday, he said that Friday likes to grab snacks along the trail and to just pull his head away. Hmm! That should have been my first indicator of Friday’s personality. Then it was time to mount up. They brought the horses over to the water trough and called out each horse’s name. They had me mount Friday from a platform before leading him to the water trough. My first thought when I got on him was, “Wait a minute! I’m really far off the ground!” The girl leading my horse kept telling me that Friday was a great horse and how much she loved him. That should have been my second indicator. I was beginning to think I might not want to do this after all, but it was too late. The third indicator was when Friday left off drinking water for a few seconds to swing his head back to look me over. I’m guessing he was sizing me up and trying to decide what he could get away with. Looking back now, I’m sure he was thinking, “I’ll get even with you!”

My security in the saddle was not helped by having stirrups a little too long. Instead of shortening the stirrups, they turned the stirrups sideways. This made it difficult to use my legs while riding and to position my feet correctly. Being more secure in the saddle would have greatly helped. I’m pretty sure that Friday knew I wasn’t feeling very secure.

We started off. There were 6 horses in front of me and 2 horses behind me. I have no doubt that the horse knew what he was supposed to do. He just didn’t feel like totally following the rules. It seemed he was one of those personalities that likes to push the boundaries just enough to be annoying but not enough to really get in trouble. He would crowd the horse in front of him or he would hang back and then when I would kick him to go he would trot to catch up. Toward the end of the ride, it felt he was trying to make me fall off because he would stop very suddenly. I guess those other tactics hadn’t really worked so he was trying a new one. That horse had a very rough gait, and his trot was bone-jarring. He also tried to grab a couple of snacks along the way. A couple of times when we stopped, he swung his head around to look at me again. I spent most of the ride telling him, “Whoa,” while pulling on the reins, or telling him to go. I began to yearn for the end of the ride. I thought he would settle down when we started back toward the stable, but he kept up his antics all the way. He was, in short, an extremely ornery horse.

While on the trail, we met some other riders from the stable. They recognized Friday and called out, “Hey, Friday!” I thought I was so lucky to have such a famous horse. Uh-huh!

I was hoping to dismount with a little dignity since my dignity had taken such a beating on the trail. No luck. A wrangler got the reins and led me to the platform. He kept telling me he wouldn’t drop me. I finally was pretty much hanging on to this guy to get my right leg over the saddle and get off. My ankles were hurting, and it took a few minutes to get my feet under me again.

I didn’t get to see a lot of scenery because of wrestling with Friday. However, I am happy to report that I made it back to the stable in one piece. One thing that Friday didn’t know about me is that I’m very determined. I’m not a quitter, and I was going to get through that ride. However, I think next time, we’ll look at Garden of the Gods from the car.

Have you ever noticed that you really don’t appreciate certain parts of your body until they are out of commission? That especially goes for thumbs.

A week ago, I was slicing some cabbage for dinner when my left thumb got in the way of a very sharp knife and the tip of my thumb was sliced off. It didn’t hurt that much, but it bled a lot. It kept bleeding, and butterfly bandages were not going to help. So I packed tissues and paper towels around it and went to an urgent care facility. After waiting for about an hour, the physician’s assistant came in. It was decided to cauterize the wound. He was very generous with the lidocaine (the injection REALLY hurt), and when the thumb was numb (love those words that rhyme) he proceeded to cauterize the blood vessels that had been cut. I decided to close my eyes for that procedure. Thankfully I couldn’t feel it, but I could sure smell the burning flesh. He had to turn the machine up all the way because I had sliced a bigger blood vessel than he had thought at first.

Then I had to wait about 10 minutes to make sure it was not going to start bleeding again. While we were waiting a nurse walked by and commented that something smelled like it was burning. “Yes,” I wanted to say, “it was me.” I soon got a large bandage on my thumb.

While picking up a prescription for antibiotics (to guard against infection), I also picked up quart-sized Ziploc bags and waterproof tape. I was supposed to keep my thumb dry for at least 24 hours. So, my husband helped me put a Ziploc bag over my hand and seal it at the bottom with the waterproof tape in order for me to take a shower. It was very interesting to say the least. In order to wear my cotton gloves at night when I goop up my hands, I had to cut the thumb out of the left glove.

The past week without my left thumb has been challenging. Try opening a Ziploc bag or a bag of chips without both thumbs. I haven’t been able to cook or wash dishes because my thumb is too big to put in a rubber glove. Washing my face, putting on earrings, and tying my shoes are also difficult without both thumbs. Let’s not even talk about pulling up and fastening my jeans. Buttons have been a struggle.

Oh, well. It is healing nicely, and I will soon have no excuse for not cooking, doing dishes, or cleaning the house. And the knife? It is safely stowed away in the back of a cabinet. I don’t want the grandkids to use that knife. Before it sliced me, it had cut my husband in two places. He was able to get by with butterfly bandages for a few days. No such luck for me.

Lesson for the week: take care of those thumbs. You need them more than you think.

Memorial Day is on Monday. It is a day to remember all of our fallen heroes. I think the day has started to include fallen police officers and firefighters. I love that we have a day to honor those who have given their lives to protect us. Even though my dad did not die while in service, he is still my hero and he served his country in the United States Air Force. He served in the USAF from 1952-1972. He was trained on and flew several different airplanes, but he mainly piloted the KC-135 which refueled military aircraft while in flight.

My dad was in college when he received his draft notice. However, instead of reporting to the Army, he decided to enlist in the Air Force. He had always wanted to fly, and he was eventually accepted into flight training.

I was raised as the proud daughter of an Air Force officer. My dad quickly attained the rank of Captain and was promoted to Major before retiring. Things were very different for military men in those days. There was no Skype or cell phones. When my dad was on alert, he would have to stay on base. He would not be able to come home. My dad also went on TDY (temporary duty) during which he would be away from home for several months. There were times we left our artificial Christmas tree up way past Christmas in order to celebrate Christmas when my dad got home. If he was able to call, it would be late at night and only get to talk to my mother. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, my dad went to work one day and did not come come for two weeks. My mother had no idea where my dad was, and he was not allowed to stay in contact with us. While it was not unusual for my dad to be gone, the tension you could feel on the base was not usual. My brother and I did not whine or complain about dad being gone. We were raised to accept this as part of Dad’s job. It also helped that when my dad was home, he was totally home.

We got to see a great deal of the United States and Europe as part of my dad’s service. We moved to Kansas when I was about a year old. From there, he was assigned to Maine when I was in first grade. My dad got orders to Germany after my third grade year. We went with him to Germany. His final assignment was at SAC headquarters in Omaha, Nebraska.

While living in Maine, my dad went TDY to California. My mother decided that we would go with him. We drove from Maine to California and then back to Maine when my dad’s TDY was up. We saw a lot in California including a visit to Disneyland.

While we were living in Germany, my dad was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and grounded. It was very sad. However, he was assigned some very nice jobs. One of those jobs was with Operation First Look in England. He was in England for about six months. The day after school was out, my mother packed all three of us kids up and took us to England. We returned to Germany the day before school started. We spent the whole summer in England. The best part was that my dad had weekends off, so we went somewhere every weekend–London, Wales, Stonehenge, Shakespeare’s birthplace, Windsor castle, Buckingham Palace, Tower of London, etc. I could have spent all day looking at the Crown Jewels. While living in Germany, we also visited the Netherlands, the Black Forest, Belgium, West Berlin, and Austria.

Even while living in Nebraska, we visited places like Minnesota, North and South Dakota, and Iowa.

My dad succumbed to complications from the multiple sclerosis right before his 75th birthday. He had fought the disease for over 40 years. He fought to stay involved with his children and grandchildren. He was an amazing man.

We got to see many places that a lot of people never see, but there was a down side to being in the military. We didn’t see much of our extended family. My dad’s family lived in Illinois, and my mother’s family lived in Texas. We would get to see them for about a week each once a year. While we lived in Germany, we didn’t see any extended family for 3 years. We also had to frequently change schools. I went to 4 different schools in 1st grade.

I am very proud of my dad’s service in the Air Force. And families serve just as much as the service member.

So I will remember our fallen heroes on Memorial Day. I’m thankful for their sacrifices.

There used to be a saying, “Those who can–do. Those who can’t–teach.” Whoever came up with that saying obviously never taught. I challenge anyone to spend a week (or even just a day) teaching in a classroom. The job is more challenging than you think. Today is Teacher Appreciation Day, and teachers need to be appreciated.

There have recently been teacher strikes and walk-outs in many states. I understand the frustrations these teachers have, and if that is the only way to get the attention of legislators then so be it. I saw pictures of books falling apart. I saw videos of ill-mannered legislators chiding the teachers, with one saying he wouldn’t support teachers any more if that was how they were going to act. I’ll just comment that if he had really supported teachers the way he needed to support them, then they wouldn’t have had to walk out of their classrooms. The legislature had only thrown them a bone and not a full meal.

I taught for 28 years before the stress of the job drove me to retirement. I had planned to teach for at least 30 years before retirement, but the stress of high-stakes testing and endless meetings to talk about the testing and how to improve was slowly killing me. In addition, the behavior of the students kept getting worse every year. I spent more and more time on the struggling and undisciplined students. There wasn’t enough of me to go around. I couldn’t deal with it any more. I worked most days from 7:15 AM to at least 5:00 PM and then take work home with me. Many days, I ate lunch at my desk so I could get more work done. My planning time was spent in meetings, making phone calls to parents, dealing with ugly emails, talking with team members, and planning and preparing for the next week. My “summers off” were filled with workshops. Most of the workshops were mandated with some thrown in because I thought they would benefit me. I also spent time preparing and planning for the next school year. I was usually back to work on my own time at least two weeks before I was required to report back. It takes time to prepare a classroom for a new group of students. May was the roughest month of the school year. We would get test scores back, recommend students for summer school, fill out endless paperwork, prepare final report cards (I always liked to include a personal positive note to all my students in that final report card), and deal with students who have completely shut down. I, too, would spend quite a bit of money out of my own pocket so I would have materials I wanted to have to teach my students. My husband finally quit asking me how much I was spending.

God bless those few “bright lights” I had in my classroom every year. Those sweet students and their supportive parents. I had many parents complain to me about the amount of time we spent preparing for state testing. I told these parents that the best way to change this would be to gather together and go to the legislature and tell them. The legislators don’t listen to teachers most of the time. I guess they felt that if they had spent time in a classroom when they were kids, then they were experts on education and how it should be done. Imagine the billions and billions of dollars that could be put directly into classrooms if most of the state testing was cut. There isn’t a teacher I know of who wouldn’t support less testing. I kept a calendar my last year of teaching in which I recorded all of the state and local district testing we did that year. We lost a lot of teaching time just to testing. And students aren’t learning anything while they are being tested. A lot of the district testing wasn’t even valid because it didn’t cover the curriculum being taught. We sat in meetings anyway to discuss it.

Most teachers don’t enter teaching because of the salary. They teach because they care deeply about kids and want to make a difference. It would just be easier to make that difference if they got more support. They need parents to support them and raise disciplined and respectful children. They need the state to support them and fund them. I saw many mandates come down from the state that were not funded. The funding had to come from the local district.

Both of my daughters are teachers. They didn’t start out that way. Neither one got a teaching degree in college. Teaching came later after getting alternative certifications. One teaches 3 and 4 year olds in the Head Start program in a very poor school district. The other taught high school math in an alternative high school (a high school for credit recovery and disciplinary issues) and is now a social/emotional learning teacher at that same school. She’s working on her master’s in counseling.

May God bless those brave souls who teach. We need to appreciate them, applaud them, and support them.