Thick Skin

March 29, 2018

As I grew up in teaching, I had to learn to develop a thick skin. I remember one time this strange kiddo who fashioned a German accent and had some troubles (he was a Springtown local) who walked to my desk and said "you know everyone hates you."

I took a moment and also believed that not everyone--including this emotionally disturbed student--hated me. I said as much in response. But I accepted the fact that not everyone loved me.

And there is good evidence that some have loved me, thankfully. I tried very hard to do right by my students. I have never worked and will never work harder in my life.

Several loved me. And likewise. Some, not so much. 

In my parental life, I understand the same is true. There are peeps who just don't like me. I fight for my kids and have trouble taming my tongue. Being a parent is a challenge. 

Being a good parent is wonderful and it is difficult. Especially of multiple children. I think perhaps the biggest challenge is balance: practice and downtime; sensitivity and strength; sports and school. Being tough. Being weak. Being able to navigate between the two.

By the grace of God, I am able to look at the troubled student who says "you are hated" and the student who says "you are loved" and am able to close the curtain, take a bow, and again take the stage.

Regardless, the skin must stay thick. I don't know how else to do it.

The Roseanne Thing

March 28, 2018

Tonight I watched the resurgence of Roseanne. Regardless of your thoughts on the lady or the show, this story is worthwhile.

When Juanita K Hammons Hall was being built, John Goodman came back to campus for a tour. My brother and I got to drive him around campus. At one point, I parked so close to the next car Mr. Goodman had to slither out of the car I was driving. It was classy. But he couldn't have been nicer. And likely very relieved to eventually flee the scene.

Later, Pops took us to LA and made arrangements for us to see an episode of "Roseanne" taped. Not at all awkwardly, the episode was about masturbation. It was really fun to sit next to my folks during that gem.

But during one of the breaks in filming they offered a signed script if an audience member would do something entertaining. Dad elbowed me and said "you can do something!" I raised my hand and was chosen and I sang "God Bless America" like Ethel Merman.

I won the script.

We got to go backstage to see John Goodman after the filming.

I'm a huge celebrity junkie. It was great.

There are moments to which you hold on. I'm a television addict. I've probably achieved less in my life because I love me some television. But I wouldn't trade that memory. 

It was worth it.

My Mentor

I have to post this pic again. We met up at spring training last year. He changed my diapers. He taught me how to teach. His wife took care of me when Mom died. She was one of Mom's best pals. Then we coached against one another. Never did we struggle. All I feel for JackandWinnie Tuckness is complete love.

And on another note, he got tickled by when a fellow coach had to deal with me when he was being difficult. Jack had tried to deal with him rationally, as had others. Finally, I'd had enough. This was my last year of coaching. It was the national qualifying tournament. The tab room was in my classroom.

I rose from my chair. I said to this person "I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire."

The person departed quickly. The other coaches looked at me, stunned and amused.

It wasn't a proud moment. But sometimes the world brings you moments that aren't proud. They bring moments that beckon for courage.

I could have dealt more nobly with the problems that day. But I won't regret with how they were dealt.

Jack was with me every step of the way. I will love him forever. He didn't always agree with my actions. And he shouldn't have. But he always loved me.

It's Complicated

March 16, 2018

A friend of mine describes me as complicated. In fact, she isn't the only one to do so. I have always struggled with things. I wish I could skip to the grocery and whistle a happy tune while I cook dinner and gleefully watch my children play their many, many, many games. I wish I delighted in an uber-clean house and an empty laundry basket. I do not.

I delight in a good walk or a run. I delight in a day with my son on the couch. A day in the sun. A visit from a student--past or present. A conversation with my girl. My pups. Things that count.

But I get all balled up because I don't care about the aforementioned. All the adult sh*t you are supposed to do in Carol Brady fashion. Except I guess Alice did it. Lucky Carol ;). Anyhoo, it's a conflict within me. I get things done, generally. But when my Dad stopped by yesterday and I only had tissue paper in the bathroom because we were out of toilet paper because I'd forgotten it on my grocery run and the toilet bowl needed cleaning, I felt some judgment.

Ah, what the hell. From now on, I will just say, "I'm complicated!"

I know the way out

March 11, 2018

When I was in high school I had two best friends, Tammy and Tiff. Yesterday I found myself in a bit of a pickle. Tam and another pal, Jenn, led me out.

There is a scene from the West Wing that epitomizes what it's like when you are having a moment. We all struggle at times. And they are the best of friends.

I thank them. With my whole heart.

https://youtu.be/ZQJ6yqQRAQs

The Barbed Wire

March 10, 2018

Tonight I watched "Legends of the Fall." Again. For maybe the twentieth time.

This afternoon I got a call from one of my best pals. We used to coach against each other. She found herself in a scuffle and she did the right thing. There is a moment in that movie when Brad Pitt cuts the cow from the barbed wire.  It is a merciful move. But it is so painful to watch. 

This weekend is the speech and debate national qualifier. This used to be the hardest weekend of my life. Gratefully, it is no more. But the feeling of it, I will never forget. And my respect for those who endure beyond my tenure is immense.

To my friend, I just wish to say: you cut the  barbed wire. Sometimes, that's what it takes. 

The Tall Grass

March 3, 2018

There is a moment in "The West Wing" when President Bartlett tells his communication director, Toby, "If it weren't  for you, I'd be in the tall grass. I'd be in the weeds."  I had that quote near my desk at Parkview because I knew there were key people who held me up. Without them I couldn't have made it.

One of those is my Dad.

Yesterday my Pops was inducted into the Missouri Valley Conference Hall of Fame, alongside some absolute gems. As I listened to the accomplishments of Dad's fellow inductees, I marveled.

Dad spoke eloquently and told stories of the league and the university. 

As I watched it all, I thought of all he has overcome: a childhood on the farm, basically in poverty. Crazy days of little pay coaching multiple sports. Starting a baseball program from scratch and taking it quickly to great heights. And in the midst of this, suffering the loss of his wife and raising two kiddos. Then he brought the incredible Nydia into the mix, became the Athletic Director, and on he rode. I never saw him falter. I have never seen him quake under the immense pressure.

I will admit that he brought work home. Sometimes I tired of hearing about SMS. And admittedly, sports now wear me out, even though my babies are knee deep in them. But in retrospect, it made me feel important. He shared everything. He took us with him everywhere. We used to mow at the baseball dormitory, which is now a credit union at Grand and National. We ripped up tape alongside the new track at what was then Briggs Stadium. We hammered mats into a weight room in the Forsyth Building. We got to travel with teams and see things that were great gifts.

In Dad's remarks yesterday was the sentiment of President Bartlett. He has been buoyed by many. What he needs to know, though, is how many would be in the tall grass and in the weeds without him.

Thank you, my Pops.