The Lanyard
Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
A heartbreaker.
One of my favorite students who also is one of my worst behavior problems let me hug him yesterday. It was one of those hugs that you can tell the other person just needs. You wrap your arms around and they just seem to melt – their shoulders relax and they feel comfortable with you. He never lets me hug him. If I ever try he either wiggles away laughing or worse if he is mad he will violently spin around hitting at my arms or stomping at my feet. No matter how many times my kids get mad, roll their eyes, tell me they hate the class, they don’t care what I say, or for me to get away from them I think they all know that I am on their team. I love them and care about them as students and as people. I don’t think any of them could or would want to make an argument to the contrary. When I gave the student the hug he was telling me about how his mom is on house arrest. Not a surprise to me since I did take a trip to the police station last week for him, his brother and cousin.
I walked out of school, in a hurry, heading to a meeting at the Teach For America office. When I got to the parking lot there was a bus, but the busses had already left an hour before so I knew something wasn’t right. Walking toward the bus it wasn’t hard to recognize the students wearing light blue shirts instead of the royal blue of our school uniform. They hollered my name a waved with smiles on their faces. The bus driver said she stopped at their place three different times and no one came out to pick them up. She needed to go to her next job so we began dialing all the numbers we had. Disconnected, no answer, does not accept incoming calls and finally there was a hello. A cousin, a four-year-old cousin, answering the phone at the house they stay at after school. After a few questions it was determined that no his parents could not come to the phone because they were not home. His twin brothers were home, but they couldn’t get on the line either – they are only one. Let me clarify this for you – this was a four year old at home babysitting two twin one year olds. So I began asking my student some questions;
Who is home when you get home from school? – my 4 year old cousin, the one year old twins and my little brother. How old is your brother? – 1. Three 1 year olds are at the house every afternoon? – yeah. What time does your mom get home? – 10 at night. Where is your auntie? – at work too. Are there any adults at your house? – at 10 when we go to sleep. What do you eat for dinner? – they leave us stuff to microwave or we make something. What do you make? – cereal or sandwiches. So everyday there are 7 of you home? – yeah sometimes 8.
My 9 year old is the oldest out of seven kids home from 4-10pm: 9, 7, 6, 4, 1, 1, 1. Can one-year-olds eat sandwiches? No wonder why they never do their homework. No wonder why he is angry. He is not a kid. He is a 9 year old forced to be an adult. So I hug him, I tell him how brilliant he is, I don’t give him an excuse for his behavior, but I let him walk it off in the hall where he isn’t bothering anyone, I come to school everyday, and I absolutely never quit because I can’t abandon him. And I hug him again.
The three kids were excited to crawl in the back of a police car. I wanted to cry, but I smiled anyway. They showed me the computer and asked the police officer lots of questions. They decided they all wanted to be police officers. I hope the next time they are in the police car they are in the front seat driving, not in the back. I drove to the police station. I was scared; there is something wrong when you feel that unsafe at a police station. I thought I might get jumped making my way through the abandoned cars in the back alleyway up to the trailer where I was directed. People stood outside and starred at me. I didn’t fit in, I felt nervous. I knocked on the door, no answer. The others waiting told me between their angry curses that they were in there I should knock again. I did and a man opened the door a crack – I told him I was coming to be with the students they just picked up from Fannie C. He said, “who you?” I told him I was their teacher and he shut the door. A few seconds later another man stuck his head out and said he found the mother and they were at the house. I went home.
The next morning I came in to the office to see a mug shot of their mother that one of the administrators had pulled up online and printed off. And now according to my student she is home from jail, but on house arrest. But she can still leave to go to work. So I asked so now who stays home with you and your cousins after school? –nobody, we still stay by ourselves.
I walked out of school, in a hurry, heading to a meeting at the Teach For America office. When I got to the parking lot there was a bus, but the busses had already left an hour before so I knew something wasn’t right. Walking toward the bus it wasn’t hard to recognize the students wearing light blue shirts instead of the royal blue of our school uniform. They hollered my name a waved with smiles on their faces. The bus driver said she stopped at their place three different times and no one came out to pick them up. She needed to go to her next job so we began dialing all the numbers we had. Disconnected, no answer, does not accept incoming calls and finally there was a hello. A cousin, a four-year-old cousin, answering the phone at the house they stay at after school. After a few questions it was determined that no his parents could not come to the phone because they were not home. His twin brothers were home, but they couldn’t get on the line either – they are only one. Let me clarify this for you – this was a four year old at home babysitting two twin one year olds. So I began asking my student some questions;
Who is home when you get home from school? – my 4 year old cousin, the one year old twins and my little brother. How old is your brother? – 1. Three 1 year olds are at the house every afternoon? – yeah. What time does your mom get home? – 10 at night. Where is your auntie? – at work too. Are there any adults at your house? – at 10 when we go to sleep. What do you eat for dinner? – they leave us stuff to microwave or we make something. What do you make? – cereal or sandwiches. So everyday there are 7 of you home? – yeah sometimes 8.
My 9 year old is the oldest out of seven kids home from 4-10pm: 9, 7, 6, 4, 1, 1, 1. Can one-year-olds eat sandwiches? No wonder why they never do their homework. No wonder why he is angry. He is not a kid. He is a 9 year old forced to be an adult. So I hug him, I tell him how brilliant he is, I don’t give him an excuse for his behavior, but I let him walk it off in the hall where he isn’t bothering anyone, I come to school everyday, and I absolutely never quit because I can’t abandon him. And I hug him again.
The three kids were excited to crawl in the back of a police car. I wanted to cry, but I smiled anyway. They showed me the computer and asked the police officer lots of questions. They decided they all wanted to be police officers. I hope the next time they are in the police car they are in the front seat driving, not in the back. I drove to the police station. I was scared; there is something wrong when you feel that unsafe at a police station. I thought I might get jumped making my way through the abandoned cars in the back alleyway up to the trailer where I was directed. People stood outside and starred at me. I didn’t fit in, I felt nervous. I knocked on the door, no answer. The others waiting told me between their angry curses that they were in there I should knock again. I did and a man opened the door a crack – I told him I was coming to be with the students they just picked up from Fannie C. He said, “who you?” I told him I was their teacher and he shut the door. A few seconds later another man stuck his head out and said he found the mother and they were at the house. I went home.
The next morning I came in to the office to see a mug shot of their mother that one of the administrators had pulled up online and printed off. And now according to my student she is home from jail, but on house arrest. But she can still leave to go to work. So I asked so now who stays home with you and your cousins after school? –nobody, we still stay by ourselves.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Why?
Why do they disrespect me?
Why do they listen when I yell?
How can they say these awful things to each other?
Do they know that hard work is what will get them places?
Why do they not stop fighting when I am in the middle of it?
Why don’t they seem to ever feel ashamed of their own actions?
How can they say they hate the stupid class and then give me a hug five minutes later?
Why is it always someone else’s fault?
Why does the problem have to be solved through physical contact?
Do they have any idea that I completely changed my life to teach them?
Why do they act like everything is indispensable?
Why do they feel the need to damage everything?
Do they know that I use my own money to buy them these rewards?
Do they think I am rich?
Do they have any idea how young they are?
And most importantly...
Do they know that they are brilliant?
Why do they listen when I yell?
How can they say these awful things to each other?
Do they know that hard work is what will get them places?
Why do they not stop fighting when I am in the middle of it?
Why don’t they seem to ever feel ashamed of their own actions?
How can they say they hate the stupid class and then give me a hug five minutes later?
Why is it always someone else’s fault?
Why does the problem have to be solved through physical contact?
Do they have any idea that I completely changed my life to teach them?
Why do they act like everything is indispensable?
Why do they feel the need to damage everything?
Do they know that I use my own money to buy them these rewards?
Do they think I am rich?
Do they have any idea how young they are?
And most importantly...
Do they know that they are brilliant?
New York Times
My roommate is FAMOUS!
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/30/us/nationalspecial/30orleans.html?_r=2&pagewanted=1&hp&adxnnlx=1209553894-kBMmJhntU19xCI600h88Cw&oref=slogin
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/30/us/nationalspecial/30orleans.html?_r=2&pagewanted=1&hp&adxnnlx=1209553894-kBMmJhntU19xCI600h88Cw&oref=slogin
Monday, April 28, 2008
It feels like home to me…
Have you ever been in a place you have never been before, but because of the people you are with it just feels like home? This past week I took Thursday and Friday off from school and drove up to Shreveport to watch the USAG National Championships. My team was competing and I was lucky enough to spend three days with them. It was a wonderful time and I really didn’t want it to end.
I was honestly nervous to see the girls and coaches when I was driving up…it had just been so long since I had seen them – but also I was incredibly excited. It is so hard to see these ladies everyday for four or five hours and then one day move away and not see them for almost a year. As soon as I was with them it didn’t seem like I had been gone at all. I was treated wonderfully with all kinds of hugs and cuddles – just what I love.
As soon as I got into Shreveport I went to Centenary where the competition was hosted to watch the prelim competition. It was strange – standing in the gym, watching these girls from the bleachers. It was the first meet I had been to since I finished my career at Nationals in Seattle last year. I got a little teary eyed – such a mix of emotions that I am still attempting to sort out in my mind. I was happy to be there with the girls, coaches, and parents. I missed the sport and longed for the physical feeling of it all. I was glad to be separated from the drama that comes with spending so much time with a big group of girls. I missed the feeling of team success and personal accomplishment.
In the past I have worked hard at something and been successful. When I had success I was rewarded and praised. My job now is much more humbling. I do not know that kind of success in teaching. I have not done an incredible job, I am definitely a Level 5, maybe even still on pre-team in the teaching world. I am for sure no where near the collegiate level. I make simple mistakes all the time. I don’t know how to cover up mistakes and I am just learning the art of improvisation. I am not as confident because I don’t have years or experience behind me. Success takes time and for now I need to be patient. Hard work has gotten me places in the past.
The girls came into the competition ranked 7th and finished 6th, so improvement is always good. I know they were a little disappointed because they made some mistakes, but I hope they all feel like the competition was a reward for how hard they busted their butts all season! Ashley qualified for individual event finals on Bars and Beam – I was so proud of her. She looked very strong and confident. I was so happy to be with her and Brie and Christie for their last competition. Aubrie, Ashley, Brie and Christie have so much going for them – it may be hard to focus on much besides loosing this huge part of their lives right now, but this is just the beginning. It will be hard for a while, but the world is SO BIG. They are all so talented and hard working that they will achieve so much and find a new passion in all different places.
Because my computer is flaking out on me I can’t add pictures, but I hope to get it straight soon:)
I was honestly nervous to see the girls and coaches when I was driving up…it had just been so long since I had seen them – but also I was incredibly excited. It is so hard to see these ladies everyday for four or five hours and then one day move away and not see them for almost a year. As soon as I was with them it didn’t seem like I had been gone at all. I was treated wonderfully with all kinds of hugs and cuddles – just what I love.
As soon as I got into Shreveport I went to Centenary where the competition was hosted to watch the prelim competition. It was strange – standing in the gym, watching these girls from the bleachers. It was the first meet I had been to since I finished my career at Nationals in Seattle last year. I got a little teary eyed – such a mix of emotions that I am still attempting to sort out in my mind. I was happy to be there with the girls, coaches, and parents. I missed the sport and longed for the physical feeling of it all. I was glad to be separated from the drama that comes with spending so much time with a big group of girls. I missed the feeling of team success and personal accomplishment.
In the past I have worked hard at something and been successful. When I had success I was rewarded and praised. My job now is much more humbling. I do not know that kind of success in teaching. I have not done an incredible job, I am definitely a Level 5, maybe even still on pre-team in the teaching world. I am for sure no where near the collegiate level. I make simple mistakes all the time. I don’t know how to cover up mistakes and I am just learning the art of improvisation. I am not as confident because I don’t have years or experience behind me. Success takes time and for now I need to be patient. Hard work has gotten me places in the past.
The girls came into the competition ranked 7th and finished 6th, so improvement is always good. I know they were a little disappointed because they made some mistakes, but I hope they all feel like the competition was a reward for how hard they busted their butts all season! Ashley qualified for individual event finals on Bars and Beam – I was so proud of her. She looked very strong and confident. I was so happy to be with her and Brie and Christie for their last competition. Aubrie, Ashley, Brie and Christie have so much going for them – it may be hard to focus on much besides loosing this huge part of their lives right now, but this is just the beginning. It will be hard for a while, but the world is SO BIG. They are all so talented and hard working that they will achieve so much and find a new passion in all different places.
Because my computer is flaking out on me I can’t add pictures, but I hope to get it straight soon:)
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Spring Break with the Sully's (and McLeans)
This spring I have so much to look forward to, and so many fun things that have already happened. One of the best weeks I have had in New Orleans was Spring Break. I needed some time away from my students so badly, some time to relax and be rejuvenated. What better way than to have the whole family come down to check out my new world. Mama, Daddy, Athena, Bekah, and Scott spent the week with me.
We went to my new church and had a delicious Easter dinner. We Rode the streetcar, hung out in the French Quarter, and went on a Katrina Tour. We had beignets, Jacques-imos, Po’Boys, and Daquaris, We enjoyed city park, the sculpture garden and the amazing wildlife of the area. We had a BBQ on the Fly and looked for ghosts at Audubon. We walked up and down Bourbon, made friends with the drummer in a Jazz band, and Scott sang some Karaoke. We ate gator bites and then saw gators in the swamp. We were amused by the Nutra Rats and the life on the Bayou. We drove through Mississippi and Alabama. We soaked up a little too much sun laying on the beach, swimming in the Gulf and playing football in the smooth white sand. It was an incredible action packed week that of course flew by too quickly.
Here are some pictures, they tell the story better than I do.
We went to my new church and had a delicious Easter dinner. We Rode the streetcar, hung out in the French Quarter, and went on a Katrina Tour. We had beignets, Jacques-imos, Po’Boys, and Daquaris, We enjoyed city park, the sculpture garden and the amazing wildlife of the area. We had a BBQ on the Fly and looked for ghosts at Audubon. We walked up and down Bourbon, made friends with the drummer in a Jazz band, and Scott sang some Karaoke. We ate gator bites and then saw gators in the swamp. We were amused by the Nutra Rats and the life on the Bayou. We drove through Mississippi and Alabama. We soaked up a little too much sun laying on the beach, swimming in the Gulf and playing football in the smooth white sand. It was an incredible action packed week that of course flew by too quickly.
Here are some pictures, they tell the story better than I do.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Are you fo' real?
Best conversation of the week.
Little Kindergartener: (with tears) Will you stay with me until my Auntie comes?
Me: Of course baby, I will make sure you have a ride home.
Little Kindergartener: (deep breath, and a little smile, then a pause) My Auntie’s name is Butta.
Me: Butter?
Little Kindergartener: No butta…pause…not like melted butta, just normal butta.
Little Kindergartener: (with tears) Will you stay with me until my Auntie comes?
Me: Of course baby, I will make sure you have a ride home.
Little Kindergartener: (deep breath, and a little smile, then a pause) My Auntie’s name is Butta.
Me: Butter?
Little Kindergartener: No butta…pause…not like melted butta, just normal butta.
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