Back in the eighties when I was teaching fourth grade I had a principal I admired. Everyday she inspired me to be better than I was the day before. One afternoon I walked into her office to whine about something. She looked up, with her glasses perched on her nose, and placed her hand near the floor. She said, “Linda, I don't expect down here…” then, raising her hand above her head she said, “…when I can get up here. Now go back to your children,” after which she put her head back down and continued working. I turned, and with tears stinging the edges of my eyes, I went back to my classroom. That afternoon I was a better teacher than I was in the morning.
She was a tough lady. As a matter of fact in the summer when I went to the superintendent (we didn't have a principal – we were looking for one) to complain about my recess schedule for the upcoming year, he said, “Wait til you see the gal I hired for you – straight out of Auschwitz – recess won't be a problem anymore.” She was rough on us when she was making decisions that put the children first – she always put the children first. Not a lot of our staff liked her. I loved her. I always welcomed a challenge and those gauntlets she threw in front of me day after day caused me to grow, to learn to embrace change even if it tasted sour, and to become a better version of myself for those children. She taught me to be totally selfless in the school environment and to always put the kids needs before my own. She inspired me to get my own Masters Degree in Educational Administration so maybe someday I could do the kind of work she does.
She was only with us for maybe a year and a half before she landed a superintendent's job in a neighboring school district. I remember the day I found out she was leaving. I was stunned . I felt like I'd been sucker-punched. My stomach hurt. The next day I was home with a sick child and had a couple of good cries. What was I going to do without her? My mentor, my teacher, my muse, would be gone when we returned from Christmas break. I couldn't fathom that.
When I went back to school the next day and told her how broken I felt, she said, “Linda, please don't make me think all my work with you was in vain.” Typical response for her. Then for a moment she softened, we put our arms around each other's shoulders and walked down the hall. She whispered, “Take all we have accomplished this year and go forward with those children. I'm only a phone call away.” Then she disappeared into her office and I went to pick up my kids from art class. We have remained friends all these years.
Tuesday night I felt like that. Sucker-punched and breathless. The person I admired and fully expected to lead my country was gone in a matter of a few hours. I lay awake all night long staring at the TV until 5 am. Then I did a meditation and went to work, not sleeping at all. I shed a few private tears and asked myself “What do I do now?” Then I thought of Nellie Bush's words on that day. I will do what she taught me. I will embrace change, as bitter as it is, and I will take what Hillary taught me about not crying, not giving up, and being a strong, intelligent, independent woman that can fly in the face of anything, and I will go forward and carry that into my world. Since my days with Nellie Bush I have become the biggest proponent of change.
Hillary wants us to “give Trump a chance to lead.” I can do that. After all, we are now all on the plane with him. Hoping he fails is like wishing for the plane to crash. There are a million reasons he shouldn't be piloting in the first place, but that is not my call. I have learned over a lifetime of being inspired by women like Nellie and Hillary that you do not put your energy into things you cannot control. You find in each day something you CAN do to make people's lives better and that is where you put your energy. You become a better person and the world becomes a better place for having you in it.
And so, as another day goes by, I refuse to whine and cry and wallow in defeat or participate in bashing our new man of the hour. Like the quote below says, there is no time for that. I will use my words, my actions, and my days to bring good into the world, despite the bitter taste of this change…and I have written.
Posted with Blogsy
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