September 11th

This post has been in my head for a while but time, energy, etc.

It has been (over) ten years since that day.

I did not lose someone specifically.

I did not even live in NYC at the time.

But of course I will never forget.

Who can.

When I moved to New York City in June 2002, it was one of the first places I visited.

After work one day, I walked thirty blocks to see it.

And I cried.

It was turning into a place people could and would make money.

T-shirts. Books. Photos. Food carts.

It was disgusting.

But over the last ten days or so, that is not what made me cry.

I am not super patriotic.

I do not believe this is the best country in the world.

Far from it.

Lots of places I have been are pretty awesome.

I almost moved to Sweden at one point.

But everywhere I went people talked about the men and women who sacrificed their life that day.

At the UCF football game, (almost) everyone wore a red banana in honor of one such man.  

At school, the firefighters and police were mentioned.  

On TV.

Radio.

Everywhere.

How people died so others could live.

And I know Roger did not decidedly die for me.

And I know he did not "save me" in the car accident. 

But he did.

In ways.

He gave me family that I had not experienced since I was a little girl.

He gave me the opportunity to meet my goal to finishing my degree.

A job that I am adoring.

A community, finally after searching for years.

And a believe that marriage could be a good thing.

Sigh... And I thought September would be easier.

How to be Happy

At my old job, I worked with this lady that would have me in stitches.
She has a good ol' Southern Tennessee twang.
She would tell it as it is.
And she would be funny about it.

Way before I met her though.
Probably 10-15 years before I met her.
She lost her son.
A small child.
To cancer.

And I remember watching her.
Feeling so sorry for her.
How can she be happy?
How can she crack jokes?
How can she smile at other children?
Just how?

But now I get it.
You never forget.
And I am sure there are days.
And moments.
And maybe even months.
But the loss scars over eventually.

For some reason, September has been harder than I imagined.
But there are days were the loss is just a scar.
And I can smile, crack jokes, and be happy.

Where is the switch?

I just wish there was a switch.
An on/off switch.
It has been stuck on for so long.
I wish I could stop missing you.
Just to take a break.
Just for a moment.
It is taxing.
It is emotionally expensive.

At least it is September.

Happy

Teaching is hard.
So very hard to deal with so many personalities and needs.
And exhausting.
And killing my feet and hamstrings.
And teaching, as many know, does not pay well.
Yes, we have summers off but we do not get paid for summer.
Nor do we get paid more than 7.5 hours per day.
I do not know any teacher who only works 7.5 hours per day.
I do not understand how you could only work 7.5 hours per day.
I am working ten to twelve hours a day and at least five or six over the weekend.
I spent two weeks before school even started with help cleaning and organizing my room without pay.
Some nights I do not sleep as I find myself trying to run through the day.

But here is the amazing thing.
Truly amazing.
I am enjoying myself.
I am happy.
I love the other teachers I work with.
My principal is so kind as well as the other administration.
The students are mostly good kids.

I feel part of something bigger.
Like I am making a difference.

I look around my classroom and think:
"This is my classroom. These are my students."

And I got a wonderful compliment.
Someone asked/commented "You are a new teacher?"
"You really know what you are doing."
And for the most part, I do feel like I am doing well.