"Who Your People?"

I still remember my Aunt Pearl saying the words that caused me to blush down to the tips of my toes. Not only was it embarrassing to hear her nonstandard use of the king's English; but more importantly, she was grilling the boy whom I thought was the embodiment of all things cute, cool and delightfully wonderful in the world.

As I think about it now, the exchange went something like this:

Aunt Pearl: Who are you?
Cutie: My name is Chris, Ma'am.
AP: Chris is not your name. Is that short for Christopher or Christian?
Him: It's short for Christopher, Ma'am.
AP: OK, ChrisTOPHER, what is your last name?
Him: Hamilton, Ma'am.
AP: Christopher Hamilton, who your people?
Him: Well, my mom lives on the North side, but I live with my aunt and uncle. They live over on K Street.
AP: K Street? Oh, over by Mrs. Waddell's house?
Him: Yes, Ma'am. Mrs. Waddell lives two doors down.
AP: OH, in the blue house on the corner?
Him: Yes, ma'am.
AP: Oh, ok. Well, Christopher "Chris" Hamilton, this is MY niece. I am HER Aunt Pearl and you are welcome to stop by to see her sometime if you see my car in the driveway. You got that?
Him: Yes, Ma'am, Miss Pearl. I got it.

Now as I look back on that conversation, I realize a few things about my Aunt Pearl's intentions from that brief exchange. First off, she gleaned far more from that brief exchange than any sit-down conversation full of slick words could ever have told her. For example, she tested his level of respect. Had he been taught to respect his elders by saying yes, no, yes, ma'am, no, ma'am and using proper titles as opposed to saying, yeah, naw, uh-huh, etc.? Second, she found out two very important things about his family: 1. Exactly who they were (If his family was known for being a bunch of fools, Chris would've gotten the boot quickly) and 2. Where to go to handle things if something went awry. Third, by making him use his exact name and stating her name and her relationship with me and then setting clear expectations and boundaries, she let him know that I am someone important whose "people" hold in high regard and whose "people" have higher expectations for. In other words, she let him know that I was not someone he was free to trifle with.

How did we get so far removed from teaching young people to respect their elders? Even more disturbing to me is how we have gotten so far away from setting high standards and EXPECTING our young people to reach those standards of behavior. As an educator, I see all too often a generation of youngsters who do not respect authority, elders, or even themselves. How do we reclaim what some have called 'a lost generation'? How do we rise up and become the elders like my Aunt Pearl who made expectations clear and who, with a short interaction, was able to communicate to the world- me included- that I was valuable and that I belonged to someone who loved me enough to apply a covering over my life? We need more Aunt Pearls. Heck, we need to BECOME the Aunt Pearls of this generation. But how do we do this? Sound off somebody!

The Dichotomy of Me (Or, Learning To Live)

I love to sit silently and watch my children play. There really is nothing like listening to their squeals of delight and the inflection in their voices as they float from moment to moment, excited about each new discovery life sends their way. As they sing and dance to their made-up songs about the butterfly that just landed on a flower, I imagine them hearing the melodies of life and the rhythm created by each heartbeat, breath, voice, footstep, sight and sound. Together, these small sounds and moments- though not much on their own- come together to create quite the symphony for a child. Wow. As I watch them, I sometimes notice the dichotomy their freedom creates within me, the cognitive dissonance that often runs through me. I know it sounds crazy, but it is there. As delightful as watching them is for me, I also sometimes catch the feeling of jealousy creep up into the darkest recesses of my mind. Jealousy. I admit here and now that I am sometimes jealous of my children's ability to just detach themselves from any and everything and be able to live freely, taking each moment as it comes. Their looks of wide-eyed wonder as they greet each new sight and sound can only be compared to discovering a cold fountain to drink from on a hot, Texas summer day. It is as if those new discoveries are the very lifeblood that keeps them going. They move from moment to moment like that, and I listen really hard, trying to hear that melody again- or at least remember when I stopped hearing.

How does one regain the ability to live in the moment? When do we, as adults, cross that silent threshold where we forget to truly LIVE? We get so caught up in all the business of life that we forget to live it. I am in that place right now. I have been on Spring Break for the past week. Instead of just enjoying each moment as it comes, I have been consumed with solving every problem under the sun or ANTICIPATING problems and then solving those. I have focused on school work for next week, the remainder of the year, NEXT school year, medical issues, making sure all of my financial ducks are in a row in case anything ever happens to me, making sure of so many things... And at the end of the day, what does it all even matter? Tomorrow is not promised to anyone anyway. Yes, as a responsible parent, especially as a SINGLE parent raising small children, it is very important for me to have everything set should anything ever happen to me. However, the rest of it?

How backwards am I?!! Here I am, thinking about and planning for my death before I have even started to LIVE.