Back to school!

Going back to school - am I insane?!? No, just hoping to increase my salary, and therefore, my retirement income. Our local university has started a cohort program for the Educational Specialist degree in Administration and Supervision. It's not a degree I need, in order to keep my job, but it is the only way for me to get a substantial raise. In education, the only way to make more money is to get another degree, and this seems to make the process as painless as possible. So, here we go!

I went to the organizational meeting in January, and 2 good friends, Leigh and Tommie, were also there. We agreed to stick together, and determined to start this journey. Since that time, both Leigh and Tommie have changed jobs. Leigh took a position with a different school system, and Tommie moved into Leigh's job. Now they both have even more motivation to get this degree. I'm still in it for the money.

This weekend we had our first class. We hadn't heard anything from the professor, so it was with great trepidation that we showed up at the class location on Friday. To our surprise and delight, this first class is mainly a process of gathering paperwork that we already have, and putting it all together into a portfolio, both in a binder and on a flash drive. No papers to write, no research, other than into our own accomplishments. We can do this!

After another 3 hours of class today, I'm excited about the prospect of broadening my perspective on education. I'm the first to admit, everything I see and hear is filtered through the lens of homeless education. Maybe it's time for me to look at the bigger picture, putting my program into that broader perspective, rather than the other way around. I'm ready!

Reflections on 9/11

September 11, 2001, I was the counselor at an elementary school. I remember walking through the school hallway that morning, and hearing someone say, "An airplane just hit the World Trade Center!" My thoughts were, maybe this was a private plane that somehow got off course, how could this happen? ... Never in my wildest dreams did I realize the impact of what had happened. I walked to the gym office, where there was a television, and the radio was always on. I knew if anything was going on, my friends the PE teachers would be aware of it. When I walked in, they were watching the small, grainy, black and white picture. I was there in time to see the second plane hit the second tower, and then we realized that the world as we knew it had changed. That morning we went through the motions of daily life in an elementary school, watching and listening to bits and pieces of the news as we could, never knowing where or when the next strike might come.

In the days and weeks that followed, we realized we had to take some action. Our largest population of ESL students were Kurdish, all of whom had fled Iraq to escape the persecution of Sadam Hussein. As intelligence was gathered and reports of Osama Bin Laden's involvement in the attacks were released, we saw a change in attitude towards these students, involving suspicion and hostility. When we went to war with Iraq, we knew the time had come.

My son-in-law, a US Marine, was deployed to Iraq. My daughter got the names and addresses of the men in his unit, and we started writing letters to them. At the same time, I met with several of our older Kurdish students to talk with them about their families and their feelings. We realized that they were strong supporters of the US presence in Iraq, and we wanted to get that message out to the rest of our students and parents.

We started planning a Kurdish celebration. On a specific day, all of our Kurdish students would dress in native costumes, bring in dishes of their native foods, and would go around and talk to every class to tell them about their country, their culture, and how they felt about living in America. They would talk about their family's experiences and feelings about the US going to war against Iraq. The students decided to name the celebration "Hafla" which means party. Our Hafla was a great success, and a lot of fun for everyone, and hopefully brought some awareness and understanding of the Kurdish culture to boys and girls in Tennessee.

Meanwhile, our letter-writing campaign continued. We wrote letters to all the men in Mason's unit, as well as to deployed family members of students and faculty. We made copies of all the letters and put them in a book. Bulletin boards around the schools were decorated with pictures of our military heroes. Mason wrote back, a letter of appreciation to the school, which we read to every class. In the letter he expressed his pride in being a United States Marine, and encouraged the students to work hard and be proud of themselves and of America.

In a small school in a small town in Tennessee, nowhere near New York City, Washington, DC, or Shanksville, PA, one might have thought we would be unaffected by what happened on September 11, 2001. Nothing could be further from the truth. I will always remember where I was on that day, and will be proud of the ways we worked together both to embrace our diverse population and to support our military personnel.