Dear famlings and company,
How could I have forgotten to mention that during Marvin’s visit we got to see Kristina and Jen? Jen is in the process of helping her mom, Ann, move to Oregon. Ann (a nonsmoker) has been battling lung cancer for the past few years. She is moving into the same nursing community where her parents live. Jen took the semester off from teaching college English to care for Ann and facilitate the moving process.
I also failed to mention that the kids’ primary organization (at church) had their annual performance on October 30th. They were super cute—even Carlos, who simply smiled when he forgot the words to the songs!
Kirk, Marv, and the kids carved our jack-o-lantern after church, but the neighborhood black cat began eating the jack-o-lantern’s eyes as soon as we set it on our porch.
On Monday, I taught a special Halloween lesson to my freshmen and juniors: Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Black Cat.” I had planned on teaching this a month ago, long before the neighborhood cat showed a fondness for pumpkin. However, if you know the story, you also know how ironic it is that the cat went for the jack-o-lantern’s eyes. I dressed up with a witch’s hat and cape and enjoyed the students’ costumes—one was fully clad as Batman!
The kids had a costume parade on Monday at school. Unfortunately, both Kirk and I missed it. I’ll try to get some pics of the kids from other parents.
For Halloween evening, we invited our new Tahitian friends over. Marotea is a boy in Arianna’s church AND school class, and this was his first Halloween. It was super fun to celebrate with his family and to see his excitement.
On Tuesday, Kirk had a business trip in Northern California. We had learned over the previous weekend that Grandma Monson, now 89, was ailing. Kirk was fortunate to have time between his meetings and return flight to visit Grandma. She was coherent and they enjoyed talking together. She asked him about his shoes and intimated that she was thinking of going on a journey. Kirk was grateful to have read Final Gifts and to be able to appreciate this clue. That evening, we decided to plan another visit for this weekend.
The rest of the school week was *mostly* uneventful for me. Still recovering from pinkeye, I shouldered the humiliation of going out in public in my glasses and without eye makeup all week. Alas!
Not until Thursday did things become interesting. I have a particularly squirrelly class of 39 freshmen (basic English) during 4th period. I am somewhat lax with occasional side chatter and fidgeting, because I can appreciate how hard (and sometimes boring—although of course NOT in my class!) it can be to sit through multiple hours of school. (Plus, teachers have to be pretty lenient with discipline these days or parents get all down our throats about violating their kids’ rights.) Well, on Thursday, these freshies were unusually boisterous, and I wasted a lot of time correcting and redirecting them. Then, while I was reading a very short story to the class, about half of the students suddenly began clapping—not at me but over me. Apparently, they had rigged this in advance and thought it was OH SO FUNNY. Well, that just crossed the line for me: it’s one thing to do a little chatting but an entirely different thing to overtly interrupt the teacher and stop the lesson. So I made the clapping students stand and hold their textbooks (because they clearly needed something more kinesthetic to do). They were like, “You’re kidding, right?” And I was like, “Nope.” Then the students started arguing. So, my master teacher called a campus supervisor (two arrived), and the referral process began. We decided to refer only repeat offenders, meaning students who often have to be hushed. In all, eight students walked to the office with the campus supervisors and 31 students sat in shocked awe and horror. (My master teacher thought we had set a school record with so many referrals in one period, but apparently not—just 2nd place.) After that, we had a very enjoyable lesson. (P.S. My master teacher topped off the Punishment of the Eight by also having the kids’ coaches bench them.)
I must confess that I was nervous about 4th period on Friday. I was amazed by the whole debacle because I was never truly angry at the kids—just super disappointed. Well, between the campus supervisors, the assistant principals (who now function as deans), the coaches, and the parents, some of the referred kids were also feeling disappointed—in themselves. And they apologized before class! THEY were concerned that I would never forgive them and that they would always be on my black list, so I assured them that I loved them and that the punishment was targeted at the behavior and not the student (blah blah). They totally brightened up and were like, “So you still like us? You forgive us?” You see, most of them really are good people at heart—despite being squirrely, brainless freshmen. Now, the best part of the referral fall out was that my classes Thursday afternoon and Friday were absolutely serendipitous. Our friend Rumor spread among the students and EVERYONE seemed to know that Ms. Monson had referred 15+ kids (the number kept growing, and I was happy to let it). LOL, not a fun experience in the moment but a valuable student teaching moment; it was fun to give the impression of power despite still being the lowly school serf.
Carlos came home from school thrilled silly because he had learned the word “but.” BUT if you know my 5-year-old Chub-chub, you also know that he was thinking about another kind of “butt.” It was like his English teacher had given him the best Christmas present ever—now he knew how to spell a word that actually mattered, one of his favorites even! So all afternoon, it was “butt, butt, butt,” spelled “b-u-t.” I love that silly gordito.
Saturday and Sunday we spent in the San Francisco area, visiting Grandma Monson. Kirk’s dad, aunt, and two uncles were also there, and it was really nice to see so many family members unplanned. Grandma was much less coherent than on Tuesday, waking up only a little this morning and not making much sense as she talked. Still, it was a very holy experience to be with someone who will so soon “cross over” and to reflect on mortality. The skin on her hands feels like dry, fragile tissue paper and slides when you try to touch her. But her face is still soft and young-feeling, and I thought that was just as Grandma would want it, even at 89 years: she has always been such an elegant person. Probably in the next week or two we will return to San Fran to celebrate her legacy.
Overshadowing our weekend, a tragedy with Andrew and Kristen’s baby Noah also tugged at our hearts. Noah, just 6 months old, rolled off a low couch onto his head. His brain began hemorrhaging and doctors had to remove 1/3 to 1/2 of his tiny skull to drain the blood and check for damage. All weekend, we were sick with worry and heartbroken by updates. At this point, it looks like Noah will survive, although every day still seems like a rollercoaster of ups, downs, and anxiety. As you can imagine, poor Andrew and Kristen are stretched thin. And baby Noah now resembles Darth Vader. Keep him in your prayers for all of us.
Lots of love,
Lauren and family
