"When We Grow Up..."

“I am convinced that most people do not grow up...We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies, and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are innocent and shy as magnolias.”

- Maya Angelou

     Something very important happened over the last three weeks.  My heart, my emotional well-being grew up.  They say the wisdom is wasted on the "young."  I think that's a cruel thing to say.  Growth is growth, if we allow it to happen.  Let's just say that that when we allow our loved ones to follow their own path, even if it's their last part of the journey, there has to be peace in knowing that no amount of memories, good, bad or otherwise will change what lies ahead for all of us.

     I have been thinking about aging lately.  Do we deny aging? Color our hair? Act like my eighth graders? Do we pretend that it's not happening? Or is it possible that there is more grace, more beauty in putting one foot in front of the other and simply living the life we were meant to live without regret.  Here is what I have learned lately: 

• We need our family.  We need to be listened to and to be loved...
• We need to keep our friendships.
• We need to be surrounded by those activities that keep us passionate.
• We need to laugh...My GOD do we need to laugh!
• We need to cry. 
• We need to forgive, NOT forget.  We need to forgive for our own health and emotional well-being.
• We need to accept our past, our pains, and embrace the world we have intuitively created.
• We need to love.  We need to embrace love more than hate. Hate may buy votes but it will not sustain what most of us instinctively feel...LOVE.
• AND sometimes it's really acceptable to be quiet and not say a thing...

     I have watched, observed and embraced.  I will continue to do so.  Will you? Will our modern society, put down their smart phones, look at the ones they love and see their truth? Will we pay attention to each other? Are we able to pay attention to each other the way we did before technology made everything "easier?"

     Watching the twilight years of someone I held in the highest esteem, letting them find their path, finally... Acknowledging that they are not perfect...has made me a stronger person.  It's made me a more "honest" partner.  Walk in someone else's shoes. Sounds cliche but do it.  Maybe once we do, we get the civilization we all yearn to have.  It really boils down to love.

"And though she be but little..."

     It started when I was born.  Being born prematurely and barely five pounds, I was underestimated.  I was underestimated because of the fear that something would happen to me given how little I was and how little I would stay.  I was over-protected and that caused a great deal of underestimation.  I learned a long time ago that being petite causes people to be very doubtful of one's abilities.  I believed it all. I was convinced everyone else was right.  I would be capable of very little.  Someone would always be there to protect me.  If I lived up to everyone else's standards that would be enough and I would be content playing the role of "people pleaser."  I was content being underestimated. That is until I decided I wanted to become an educator.

     Finding a position as an English teacher was as competitive as finding work as an actor on Broadway.  When I was first licensed in the late 80's, there were many interviews but I wasn't fortunate enough to get a full-time position. I moved on to other business.  I grew up and learned what the business world really expected of an individual.  There could be no excuses.  An apology was accepted as long as, "It didn't happen again."  If I wanted to put food in the fridge, clothes on my back and own a vehicle, I had better have carried out what was expected.  Being underestimated was no longer part of the picture.  At 46 years of age, I became a teacher.  I had grown up

     I don't know if most people understood what it meant to become hired as an educator.  It was the pinnacle of all of those "Sorry, next..." interviews and the struggle to those professors that I was worthy of a masters degree.  I did become a masters graduate with honors.  Honors.  I had never known what that meant to be honored with anything.  I was indeed honored.

     The students who have come in and out of my classroom since 2006 will never really know how incredible it was to stand in front of them and impart what I could.  They all became "MY" kids.  Each heartache, each accomplishment was ours to share. Some were shared verbally, others not.  We never truly know what goes on in the mind of a teenager.  The only thing we can do is remember ourselves what it felt like to be 14. 

     Today, what I see is a great deal of entitlement among those who struggle. No one is entitled to anything.  Hard work provides the doors that open and shut. Having said that,  I have made so many mistakes underestimating the true nature of what my kids are capable of doing.  When I make that mistake, I am reminded of how it felt to have been treated the same.  I push them and care for them regardless.  This becomes the hardest part of being a teacher.  We have a student's best interests at heart even if they refuse our care and lately, many have done just that and it's a sad reminder that we are human.  Our hearts ache for the lost.  

     So to be "underestimated" was probably the very best thing that ever happened to this little woman.  I dare anyone to argue that the struggles make you stronger.  The successes make you more humble and the years fly by whether we are satisfied with our outcomes or not.  As is my habit, I wake at five a.m., get two cups of coffee in me, get dressed, put the face on and drive to my school that has it share of stories, ghosts, and children...who will find out soon enough what life is all about if they haven't already.