How do I make sure that my children have access to the best education? For my sons it has been largely terrible. For my daughters it has been okay, not spectacular, just okay.
Today I learned that my son will not be returning to the school of my dreams. A school where every child matters and they know how to teach boys. A school where he felt important. I'm exhausted. I cried when I got the letter. I don't fit in and cannot become part of their community. I am a single parent. When other parents can sit and read stories I am in another classroom wishing I could sit and be silly with him and read all the books the afternoon will fit using every voice in my repertoire.
I am looking at academic potential that hasn't been tapped in each of my children and I am saddened by it. I take a deep breath and accept that I will have to be their teacher. I have to find the time an resources to broaden their worlds and I learned a bit of that from Mateo's time at NCRC. I feel so sad today but I am falling into bed all used up every night. There's nothing else from which to even make a miracle.
I'm running on 2 hours of sleep... perhaps I'll write again...
I'm exhausted and still I am thinking of how to compensate for what we lack so that they have what they need to flourish.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
The problem is that you just raised us to die.
-We were to live careful, waiting
-We were to leave the slate clean
-We were to follow the rules, so many - but we didn't
I want life for you. You've been still with your eyes forced shut
to keep out temptation and death hasn't yet claimed you.
Yet you lie there, claiming it. The weight of a secret guilt pressing you down - still.
Awake dear Mother and create the beauty you've been dying for all of these years.
Your grandchildren await the magic they've been told of.
Your children never outgrew their belief
They too sit, turning grey, awaiting their turn - to live.
They've lived in clumsy spurts driven by instinct not example
You were given that greatest of gifts thought only to belong to gods
... the ability to create, to speak without the limitation of words
And it lies there with you locked behind closed lids, dormant.
For those moments when instinct drove you and you lived,
you were fabulous.
Imagine what it would have been to live purposefully
Not deciding NOT to but doing..
something kind - to you,
for you, ...for me, ...for us...
But you were not raised to live but to die.