I was just up from my afternoon nap yesterday afternoon when the dog started to bark. She was persistent, so I figured someone was at the door. (I don't have a doorbell.) Sure enough! It was my friend and colleague, Phyllis, up the hill from physical therapy for her hip, wanting to know if I wanted to go for dinner. Yes, I did! We went to a little Italian restaurant in Plainfield called Sal's for good food and conversation.
Phyllis is a treasured friend. I met her when I got my first teaching job in my current district, teaching fourth grade at Hall Elementary School, way back in 1990. At that time, I was aware that my husband and I were going to be Splitsville (for reasons that soon became obvious to everyone). I was, to say the very least, "needy". Phyllis and the other fourth grade teachers became my cheerleaders, and Phyl had the particular combination of drop-dead common sense and inspiration that I needed. Once upon a time, we met every morning in the summer (early) to walk 2 1/2 miles at Hummel Park. We walked and cackled. I told her of my life and heard about hers. (And I lost 50 pounds in the process!) Our kids grew up and moved out. She taught at the elementary, and I taught at the high school (different schedules), and we lost touch, somewhat...but never "out of sight, out of mind". One of the strengths of our friendship is that we always manage to pick up where we left off. Still, I have always felt that I take more from Phyllis than I gave. Still true!
While we were dining yesterday, the topic of retirement came up. I told Phyl, who is very active in the teacher's association and understands the retirement gobbledy-gook, that I had no idea when/if I could retire. She started asking questions. I couldn't answer ANY of them. In typical Phyllis form, she said, "Stop!" And then she told me what we were going to do. We were going back to my house to find some important papers, and then going to her house to get online to figure out where I stand in the scheme of things. Couldn't find one important paper...in fact, don't think I am receiving them quarterly, as I'm supposed to...so she gave me my homework assignments.
Phyl is four years younger than me and a very dedicated teacher who has worked hard all her life to raise her boys with and without husbands. What encouraged me is that she is tired of teaching...the same as me! I could probably teach high school kids forever...but my transfer to middle school has just about worn me out. I was gratified to know that I'm not the only one who comes home exhausted every day!
Yesterday, I became aware that one of my students...the one that I considered my "project"...has been removed from the foster--maybe adoptive--home where he was. The parent conference of last week revealed a huge problem (more with the adults than the kid). And now he's gone...sent off to yet another foster home (40-something to date) and my heart is broken. No chance to help now! At the conference, I tried to explain to the "mother" (who prides herself on being strict) that the only thing this young man has control over in his life is his behavior. He is going to express himself that way because nothing else has worked. His real mother signed him over to authorities in favor of an abusive boyfriend. I've been down that road with students more times than I care to count. So...another would-be good kid bites the dust. I'll probably read about him in the papers in a few years. I don't like it very much.
And so it goes...
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