Fighting the Good Fight
Life has seriously gotten in the way this past two months and exploded into nasty little bits of rubble over the last week. I've been pretty good about keeping the blog to primarily writing and marketing issues for the last couple of months, but there hasn't been a lot of writing going on these past two months.
Sometimes it works that way. There are weeks when the words are flowing. You can barely keep up and the characters are at your shoulder cheering you one, telling you to type faster. Then there are weeks when you're as a fast as a turtle stampeding through peanut butter. Uphill. Then there are those weeks when there are no words. I've have had a no words week this week.
My daughter's little Catholic school is in jeopardy of closing. So, the parents and the alumni and the staff are closing ranks and trying to beg for one more year. We were told last week. Told we needed 30 more bodies in the seats to stay open. Told we had 10 days in which to find them. I'm feeling a little betrayed and bewildered right now. I feel as though the church is giving up on the school, and by extension, my child. The depression, the panic, the frantic casting around looking for options if the horrible does happen. The fear of that first day of school all over again--she's comfortable at her little school, she has friends, the teachers all know her. We chose that school over the larger one in the area on purpose. I wanted my daughter to have the same sort of experience I had at my little Catholic school years ago. Of course, the writing was on the wall then. My little school closed two years after I graduated too.
So, there haven't been any words this week. The only words I've written outside of work have been to the Bishop and the pastor asking for a stay of execution, if you will. Some might think it's a little hypocritical for a public school teacher to fight so hard to keep open a tiny Catholic school in the western suburbs, but I want for my daughter what I had. I know that there are wonderful things happening in public school classrooms. I know the teachers love their children there too, but I want to be able to have that shared experience with my daughter, the knowledge that she had the same sort of grammar school experience I had. There's nothing hypocritical about that.
I'm hoping there will be more words next week. My angels have been suspiciously silent. Maybe they know something I don't. So, I'll read, I'll plot, I'll plan and I'll pray--for the school, for my little girl and for the words to return.
Sometimes it works that way. There are weeks when the words are flowing. You can barely keep up and the characters are at your shoulder cheering you one, telling you to type faster. Then there are weeks when you're as a fast as a turtle stampeding through peanut butter. Uphill. Then there are those weeks when there are no words. I've have had a no words week this week.
My daughter's little Catholic school is in jeopardy of closing. So, the parents and the alumni and the staff are closing ranks and trying to beg for one more year. We were told last week. Told we needed 30 more bodies in the seats to stay open. Told we had 10 days in which to find them. I'm feeling a little betrayed and bewildered right now. I feel as though the church is giving up on the school, and by extension, my child. The depression, the panic, the frantic casting around looking for options if the horrible does happen. The fear of that first day of school all over again--she's comfortable at her little school, she has friends, the teachers all know her. We chose that school over the larger one in the area on purpose. I wanted my daughter to have the same sort of experience I had at my little Catholic school years ago. Of course, the writing was on the wall then. My little school closed two years after I graduated too.
So, there haven't been any words this week. The only words I've written outside of work have been to the Bishop and the pastor asking for a stay of execution, if you will. Some might think it's a little hypocritical for a public school teacher to fight so hard to keep open a tiny Catholic school in the western suburbs, but I want for my daughter what I had. I know that there are wonderful things happening in public school classrooms. I know the teachers love their children there too, but I want to be able to have that shared experience with my daughter, the knowledge that she had the same sort of grammar school experience I had. There's nothing hypocritical about that.
I'm hoping there will be more words next week. My angels have been suspiciously silent. Maybe they know something I don't. So, I'll read, I'll plot, I'll plan and I'll pray--for the school, for my little girl and for the words to return.
The angels are being quiet for you so you can write your most persuasive thoughts to the Bishop. That said, it seems a bit of a short notice about needing 30 seats filled. Others have been in the news and managed to stay open, hope yours can too.
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