what is the number one piece of advice teachers would give you? (Marysville-Pilchuck High School Shooting)

Dearest, most Precious Readers:

 

Recent news in the State of Washington compels me to write about a tragic event that occurred on October 24th, 2014.

 

Jaylen Fryburg chose to shoot friends and family at his high school.

 

Before you close this page, I assure you that I will not be writing anything political about gun safety/availability or amendment rights. Instead, I am writing on a subject you all know is near and dear to my heart:  children.

 

On posts past, I’ve mentioned that I have never planned to have children, nor any plans for planning a family now. So, why should I care?

 

We ALL should.

 

Why does a school shooting bother me perhaps more than the average blogger or news observer?

 

My husband, Pilot, worked for Marysville-Pilchuck High School in 2012.

 

Please realize that my concern would not be, in any way, lessened should my husband not have worked for the school.

 

School shootings are nothing to glean over. However, I also don’t believe it should be exploited for personal gain by using a devastating event for political platforms.  The safety of children should always be a number one priority for every citizen of the planet Earth.

 

Much of the speculation-

 

…and at this point, that is all we can do: SPECULATE. SPECULATION DOES NOT EQUAL TRUTH.

 

-has been around the question of “Why?”

 

Why did he shoot his friends?  His family?

He was popular!

He played sports!

He was well liked!

He seemed normal!

 

Let’s hone in on that word now, shall we? “Normal.”

 

What is normal? What is your perception of normal?

 

Pilot is not just a teacher, but he is a special education teacher. He has focused the majority of his career on children with emotional and behavioral disorders.  Do you know what “normal” is for this group of children? Juvenile detention, abusive home lives, homelessness, drug dealing/addiction, being part of neighborhood gangs, violent tendencies, social workers, psychologists (if they can afford one), parole officers, etc. This is their “normal.” The average age of Pilot’s students?  15 years old.

 

The child in question in the Marysville-Pilchuck High School shooting was considered coming from a good home, with friends, popularity at school, extracurricular sports activities, etc. This was his “normal.”

 

There is a massive stigma against “loners,” “unpopular kids,” “goth,” etc. children that they are the usual suspects and the ones to watch for “threatening behavior.”

 

Earlier this year, the world lost an incredibly talented entertainer, Robin Williams, to suicide incurred due to depression. How many other countless celebrities can we name? Another loss last year, was Glee’s leading actor, Cory Monteith. From the 1990’s beloved actor Phil Harman was murdered by his wife. His wife shot their children, killed Hartman and committed suicide. Another local Washington state school experienced a shooting earlier this spring, Seattle Pacific University, a private college.

 

So what about last Friday? I am not going to propose any theories on this child’s life.  I’m not going to demonize him and continue calling him “shooter.”  He was a child. A child who made a horrible, irrefutably horrible and gruesome choice that has destroyed the lives of his family, the victims and their families, his classmates and the school’s faculty and staff, and anyone who is remotely connected to the school and the people of that school.

 

Based on new evidence coming to light, aka Twitter, it has come to the attention that several of Fryberg’s tweets from Twitter indicated disturbing “warning signs” that (in hindsight… and we all understand how hindsight works) should have indicated that there was major dissatisfaction with Fryberg.

 

Depression and pain doesn’t have a single type of face.  It’s a feeling.  It doesn’t hit one type of personality, race, gender, age, or background.  It can occur in anyone.  Stop making excuses and stop being an ostrich.  A shooting could happen anywhere, and it could be caused by any one going through pain.

 1

 I’ve gone through and suffer depression myself.  After a series of events between 2007-2009, I went on antidepressants.  I was in great denial.  It was after those closest to me suggested I talk with someone about the events during this two-year period (a post for another day) and that I should try to get help, it made me realize that if everyone was asking me to at least try it, I wasn’t being my normal perky, snarky self.  I was in such denial about it, that it took several of my loved ones to talk bring it to my attention before I actually sought out help.  Realizing I had a strong support net, even from people I’d least expect to be encouraging, is what pushed me forward.  I couldn’t realize it for myself, it took others’ efforts to get through to me.

 

One of the things I’ve learned after watching years of Pilot navigating the delicate tightrope of emotional turmoil that his students face every day, boils down to a few key things:

 

Involvement

Understanding

Support

 

Involvement: The key factor that unites all of the different problems these children face is lack of involvement from their parents/guardians.  Either the parents/guardians are too busy to help their children, or they have no interest in how their children spend time.

 

Understanding: I don’t like to believe anyone is a lost cause. Adults seem to forget that children are much sharper than they’re given credit for.  A child doesn’t necessarily need to be book smart to be intelligent. Many of the children I’ve seen Pilot work with are sharp, aware, and hyperaware of their environment.

 

Support: America has its priorities messed up.  There, I said it, and I’ll say it again.  America has its priorities messed up.  We do not put enough value on education.

modern schoolteacher

(http://thegrumpyvoter.ca/site/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/the.modern.school.teacher.jpg)

 

America does not put enough funding into our social work systems, the foster care system, education, mental care, medical facilities, and programs to assist with those who are homeless/jobless.  Many of these children do not receive the necessary resources required to assist with their advancement.

 

Continuing with the support idea, many parents and those not involved in the school systems ask, “What are schools doing to prevent a shooting from happening again?

 

The answer?  You can’t.

 

I know that’s not the answer you wanted to hear.  Sorry, you just can’t.  No more than you can stop a corner store armed robbery from occurring.

 

Education lives in a rock and a hard place right now.  All schools can do is have good security staff on hand, an emergency drill plan, clear communication channels to local law enforcement, and train their faculty/staff in self defense and classroom management in case a situation like this occurs.  Faculty of every educational institution has to go through some type of psychology training.  Some schools in rougher neighborhoods have metal detectors and body search wands (like at the airport).

 

Nothing is going to deter someone from wanting to inflict harm in others, except for one thing: Someone taking notice of that person’s behavior.  You can have all of the training and preparation in the world.  Taking control of how to handle a situation like that and executing routine practice drills is all of the control you can provide in that situation.

 

Silence is what kills.  Not acting upon that piece of instinct within you to ask the tough questions.  If you notice behavior is off with someone you know, it is worth the risk of creating an awkward situation by asking if something is bothering that person.  I would much rather risk a friendship and dealing with an uncomfortable conversation, than no conversation occurring at all –with dire results as the aftermath.

 

I would rather risk a friendship and push conversations into the “tough stuff” so that the other person knows that I’m always there to listen, open mindedly (that’s key, here people), to what their thoughts are.  You may not agree with their morals or ethics, you may not agree with their opinion, but being willing to listen in the first place and letting the person know they’ve been heard is usually the first step in alleviating anxiety, stress, pain and depression for the other person.

 

If you don’t feel comfortable confronting the person in regards to their change in behavior, speak with someone else close to that person.

 

Again, silence is what kills.

 

Kids today in general have so much more pressure. One key factor I believe causes this, is our world is smaller.  Cell phones, internet, instant messaging, social media, texting, instagram, etc. has made our world more connected, yes, but it has also made each user be placed dead center under literally a world of scrutiny.  Add in the typical pressures of a teenager, growing up, being an adult, still being a kid, academic pressure, extracurricular activity performance pressure, getting into college/not getting into college, home life, jobs, friends, boyfriends/girlfriends/in-between, now you throw in gender identity, dating, sex, love, marriage, hookups, breakups, SAT’s, GED’s, drugs, drinking, expectations/lack of expectations… the list goes on and on.  It’s enough to make anyone cringe at those few, intense years that very few can say with 100% certainty that they survived unscathed.

 

Even the “normal” kids face incredible amounts of pressure I can barely keep up with to try and understand, and I wasn’t a teenager/young adult that long ago.

 

Break the silence.  It’s better to have checked in with someone than let it go.  I don’t know what was going through Fryberg’s mind leading up to and during October 24, 2014.  I can guarantee, that child must have felt severely alone, desperate, angry, resentful and/or any combination of those emotions.

 

It isn’t a “type” of person who feels those things.  Every human being has felt one or more of those emotions at some point in her/his life. Maybe his friends and family might have even talked to him about it leading up to it.  A decision to kill isn’t born into someone. It’s caused.

 

We need to be made more aware of the people around us. Not with a discerning, skeptical, calculating eye, but with a caring, respectful, and genuine sense of community for each other.

 

For parents, all Pilot and I can both suggest as a method to staying Involved, Understanding, and Supportive:

 

  1. LISTEN to your kids. Don’t talk AT them, talk WITH them.  I don’t always succeed in my execution of this, but my efforts are still noted. Even if the conversation doesn’t work the first time, keep at it.  It may not get easier, but at least your kids will know they have safe place to share their thoughts.

 

  1. BE AWARE of your kids’ internet/cell phone use. DO NOT SNOOP.  Establishing at the beginning what the rules are for using computers, cell phones, and other methods of communication are within your home (setting expectations) are key to understanding the world your child has created for herself/himself.  Believe me, you may not have full access to whom /where your kids are spending their time, but Facebook/Twitter sure do.

 

cheating vs social media
http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/7f/06/b4/7f06b4fd9eb38ce67b25b30379628933.jpg

 

  1. CARE. I once heard that 99% of parenting is showing up.  Being physically present, or even a phone call (NOT TEXT.  I SAID CALL.  A voice connects you to each other far more than reading letters on a screen) to wish your child good luck with their next activity when you’re not able to attend.  Let them know you’re taking them out afterward to celebrate (whether it goes well or not, especially when it does not).  You have a child in your life. This is a precious gift. Be involved, or get involved.

 

I asked Pilot what the one piece of advice he would give parents/guardians and I’ll paraphrase it here:

 

Be consciously involved in your child’s education and life.

 

Going back to the question of, “What are schools doing to prevent a shooting from happening again?”  There is a mindset becoming more prevalent in parent/teacher conferences:  That the kids spend all of their time at school, so the teachers are responsible for their child’s behavior.

 

This is ass backwards, and here is why:

 

Children spend 6 hours a day in school.  Let’s say 7 hours total to include commute time (assuming your child goes to a nearby school).  I ask you, how many hours are there in a day?  How good are your math skills?  Mine suck, and I can tell you that 7 out of 24 hours is not a lot of time.

 

changes in time

http://pjmedia-new.pjmedia.netdna-cdn.com/lifestyle//user-content/36/files//2014/01/funny-parents-grades-teachers-comic.jpg

 

Children spend 1/3 of their day at school.  Estimate the average 8 hours of sleep at their place of residence, and where is the rest?  With their family or chosen extracurricular activity/jobs.  Do you know where your child works?  Who they work with?  These are questions you should already know the answer to, don’t you think?

 

The point of all of this:  Be there for your children.  Be involved in your children’s lives.  It takes effort, time, and patience, but it’s worth it.  They won’t be children for long, and it’s a tough world.  Not to sound corny, but who they are and how they interact with the world is every person’s responsibility, and they will be our future leaders.  Their choices will shape our future.

 

Be Involved.

Be Understanding.

Be Supportive.

 

What are your methods for staying involved with the children in your life?

How do you monitor your child’s use of technology and social media?

Have you talked to your children to keep an eye out for rash behavioral changes in their friends and peers?

Do your children know where to go at school/work/extracurricular activities to report concerning behavior safely?

For those in the education field, what are your tips for keeping your classrooms safe?

he may not wear red underwear, but i’m ok with that

It’s a bird! It’s a plane! Oh, wait… Yeah, it IS a plane. Never mind. <Shrug.>

Although it may technically be Sept. 15th at 1:00am, I’m still living in the past 24-hours of it being Sept. 14th. Sept. 14th marks one of the greatest days in history.  It’s Pilot’s birthday.

There are many reasons why I love Pilot, but this post would never be finished. So, instead, I thought I would write about why Pilot excels far beyond Superman.

1. He’s a sexy nerd.  Clark Kent was a mild-mannered English nerd. Writing for The Daily Planet, Mr. Superman himself was the geeky guy of the office, just short of Jimmy the photographer.  You may think that the reason I call my husband, Pilot is because his job is being a pilot. Well you’d be wrong.  Pilot is actually a special-education teacher. To this day, he amazes me his ability to connect with students who experience an exceptionally difficult time with learning, or developing the skills needed to improve. His love for science and math knows no bounds, to which I thank God for because I can’t succeed in science and math to save my life (although he and I did very well in an astronomy class together.

Me: What a great night! Ellensburg’s skies are so clear!

Pilot: Yeah! Here, let’s go to this field and setup. I’ll pour the hot chocolate.

Passerby 1: Hey! Is that a bong? It’s huge!

Me: <indignant, setting hands on hips and frowning.> No, it is not a bong. It’s a telescope. See? <points to eyepiece.>

Passerby 2: Sweet! Party time! <calls to friends in distance.> Hey! Check this chick out! She has the biggest bong I’ve ever seen!

Me: It is NOT a bong! It is a highly functional TELESCOPE! Look! You can see Venus and Mars, right there!

Passerby 1: Cool! It’s multi-functional!

Me: <shakes fist, screeching at Passersby 1 & 2.> Listen, cretins! Just because you’ve lost some brain cells does not mean you need to corrupt mine with your incessant insistence that my telescope is a device for drug use!

Passerby 2: Way to party little lady <pats the top of my head.>

Me: Argh!

Pilot: Sweetie, I think it’s time we move to a different field.

Just as Superman disguises himself to be a simple and plain man, but is all super-hunky man of steel in reality, my Pilot is a seemingly boy-next-door guy, but is superhero to children and helping them have a fighting chance in this world.  Plus, listening to him explain space’s gravitational patterns for each planet with his toothy-white grin is sexy as hell.  And besides, I’m the (maybe not-so-mild-mannered) English nerd in this relationship.

2. Ok, so he does fly a little bit. Like Superman, my Pilot is also, well a pilot. Before Washington changed its laws of age limitations for obtaining a pilot’s license, he took his first flying lesson at the tender age of 13. He literally flew a plane before ever driving a car. The way he’s better than Superman, is that for me to go flying with him, I don’t have to worry about someone looking up m nightie and freezing my crumpets off from the high altitude because I’m contained inside an ACTUAL airplane.

Me: <holds down ‘push-to-talk’ button> Wow! I’m flying an airplane… And I’m scared shitless right now. You can take the steering back now!

Pilot: <laughs.> You only had it for two seconds.

Me: <holds down ‘push-to-talk’ button and glares at Pilot.> Two seconds too long… Ooh! Nice yoke-work, Bacher! Why don’t you use those hands somewhere else?

Pilot: Sweetie, you need to stop pressing the ‘push-to-talk’ button because you just announced that to all local flying aircraft and the Tower.

Tower: Cessna 5210-AML, you’re clear to land… If your hands aren’t too busy.

Random pilot sharing airspace with us: <chuckles.>Yes, please keep your hands to yourself, Sweetie.

Me: <holds ‘push-to-talk’ button> Umm… I think they heard me.

Pilot: You’re still holding the ‘push-to-talk’ button, Sweetie.

Me: <still holding ‘push-to-talk’ button.> Oh. Sorry.

3. He has superpowers. No not actual, born an alien or dipped in toxic waste superpowers. But with one look he can provide a multitude of things: reassurance, giggle-inducing hysteria, empathy, one of the few people who can make me shut up once in a while if I’ve said something [insert favorite word here, such as weird, odd, annoying, ridiculous, etc.], and the occasional heat-induced glance that magically makes my clothes disappear. (Hey, don’t judge. I’m married and Superman had x-ray vision.  You really don’t think that Superman didn’t use it to his advantage just once?)

4. He’s talented. As Clark Kent was a journalist and fairly decent reporter, my Pilot is also extremely gifted.  Separate from his teaching and flying gigs, my Pilot is also an aviation photographer. Even better, he’s a good one!  Pilot has been published in a few magazines over the last couple of years, and also has written several blurbs on the aircraft subject in question.  He has a successful Facebook page and YouTube account where he also posts videos of his work, narrating and adding factoids to the videos for viewers to enjoy.

5. Lastly, but not at all in the least, he’s romantic. Superman had ladies drooling for decades, most of all a Ms. Lois Lane. And in this case, this little writer wised-up and realized that a kind, quiet and talented man was interested in me and I jumped at the chance at love, never regretting a day since. Thankfully, Pilot has made this relationship really easy on me by being just completely wonderful and supportive, even if I post stuff like this on the all-knowing interwebs. Even if the first Valentine’s Day card I ever received from him was signed, “I don’t care what they say. I think you’re pretty nice,” causing a temporary 2-hour argument between us.

Happy Birthday, Pilot! And I don’t care what they say, I think you’re pretty nice, too.

<blows kiss.>

Daily Writing Challenge

Day 14: FREE DAY! Write any scene you want!

Dear Diary,

Today I met the most impossible of all human beings! There I was, walking through the bookstore trying to keep my nonchalant, “Yes, of course I’m in the self-help section-there’s-nothing-wrong-with-that-it’s-a-perfectly-normal-thing-to-do” face. So what if I’m pushing into my latter-thirties and newly single? If someone wanted to excel in their profession, they would study for it. If someone was to perform a self tune-up of their car, they would buy a guide. So why not buy a book to help accelerate changing my single status?

While wandering the bookstore, trying to find a decently large covered book to disguise my purchase with, I bumped into a man at the mysteries/thrillers section.

“Oh! Excuse me,” I said slightly blushing at the blatant lack of focus on where I was going.

“Not at all, pardon me,” he replied. I took in the light hair and blue eyes framed by some very nice looking professor’s glasses. He was tall, wearing a slim fitting navy blue sweater and jeans. Hellooo Dr. Jones!

His head tilted slightly as he tried to glance at the title of my self-help-for-singles book, Single? So What? guide which had decided to hide itself behind my back.

“You know, if you want a really good read, you should try I’m Single and I Know It, instead.”

I blushed at the recommendation.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said tucking a strand of my plain brown hair behind my ears. “I’m looking for a thrill- I mean, looking for thrillers. Oh look, there’s a great one!” I say as I pluck a random book from the shelf to the right of me.

He tilts his head to the side. “Hmm… So you’re into swashbuckling pirates who stealthily rip the bodices off of young maidens, huh? I would’ve pegged you more knights-in-shining-armor kind of woman.” I raise my eyebrows at the book I had just selected.

Sure enough, there was a shirtless pirate and a young wench who apparently had no problem or apparent discomfort from having her breasts shoved up to her chin, while the pirate’s swarthy hands were undoing the ties to the back of her very cumbersome looking satin corset. Quickly glancing up to the empty space that held the damning evidence of my random selection, I realized the shelf on my right had been historical romance instead of mystery/thriller. Shit and double shit!

“You know, all you need is a glass of wine and you’re probably set for the night,” he said winking of me.

Eyes narrowing, “Why of all the nerve! I-” I pause to straighten my back at this very nosy and appalling man.  I closed my eyes for a moment taking a deep, calming breath.

“Once again, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am merely grabbing some reading material as a gag birthday gift for my friend, Lizzy, if you must know.” No need for him to find out that Lizzy is actually my dog named after my favorite romantic heroine, Elizabeth Bennett.

“Of course, my mistake,” he said, having the nerve to smile at me.

“Well, thank you. Now, if you don’t mind. I need to have these presents gift wrapped. I’m very busy and important, and must be going now. Ta!” Turning on my heel, I pause at the sound of his voice.

“Fantastic! I was busy getting this for my brother. We’ll go to gift wrapping together!” He said grinning at me.  Of all the rotten luck. Two years without a man and now I can’t get away from this one!

Together, we both walk to the gift-wrapping center’s counter and hand our items over to the customer service rep.

“Sorry about your friend. Is she going through a tough breakup right now?”

“Huh?” I blink at him.  “Oh! Yes!  Um… Right… Well, she’s recently gone through a divorce, which she’s very happy about, and is throwing herself a divorce shower,” I quickly spat out.  We both take our nicely wrapped presents, his book in pretty forest green with a gold ribbon, mine in a patterned wrapping paper covered in random letters of the alphabet and red ribbon.

“A divorce shower?” he says amused at my frustration.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that before.  What exactly does one do at a divorce shower?”  Oh come on! Can’t I just live this humiliation in peace? It’s bad enough I resorted to self-help guides, but does it really need to have a commentary squad like Mystery Science Theater 3000?

“Well it’s- um…” I sigh and throw my hands up in the air, waiving my ‘gift’ in the air. “Oh, hell. We both know the book is for me.  Look, it’s been a little nerve-wracking catching my bloody husband in my bed with my sister and I haven’t had sex in two years, all right?”

The man’s eyes widened as he stared at me.  A woman who had been waiting in line for the gift-wrapping services looked extremely uncomfortable.  “Um… I think I forgot to comb my cat…” she said as she inched away from us slowly, and then bursting into a slight sprint towards the main door.

I felt my face burning as red as a hooker in church.  Also waiting for him to run away from the crazy-cat-lady vibe I was giving off; to my surprise he actually was pretty nice about the whole freak-out scene.

“Wow. That must have been awful. Are you ok?” he spoke softly, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, deep in thought. All they did was focus on his glasses which were straightforward black frame, emphasizing the blue-ness of his eyes.

Another deep sigh escaped my lips. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry about that. I had just moved here for him because he was offered a job at Boeing. We were living with my sister until we could find our own place.  Then… Well, you know…” my voice drifted off as I felt tears prickling at the back of my eyes.

“I’m really sorry.  Was just teasing before, but if I’d known…” he gave a slight shrug and palms up gesture of apology.

“It’s all right. Sorry for going all berserker on you,” I smile slightly.

He stifled a snicker, “Berserker? You’ve seen Clerks?”

“Of course, hasn’t everyone? I mean, Kevin Smith may be raunchy, a little out of my comfort zone sometimes, but nonetheless is an insightful writer and commentator of life in our generation,” I state matter-of-factly.

The man stares at me again, this time in wonderment. “Wow, I think I may have fallen in love with you a little bit. Most women can’t look past goofy comedy movies like that.”

“Oh… Well, that’s just, really nice,” I say flustered at this man’s response.

“I’m Elliot. Elliot Helmsworth,” he says sticking his hand out to me.  Grasping his palm, I reply, “Claire. Claire Whitmore.”