Being Thankful for Something Thorny

My thorny blessing is attending grad school at not such a young age like the rest of my classmates. I am older than most of my professors at this point. It is definitely difficult to make a life change, however going to school after a long absence has been inspiring. It is a blessing that I became unemployed two years ago and get to further my education. However I still have to work and it is sometimes hard to keep up with all of our assignments. Also, I think it takes me longer to complete my papers than it used to. Concentrating can be hard too, because there are many more distractions in life when you are older than 25.  Loss of income and paying tuition while trying to keep my relationship with my husband meaningful has been a struggle as well. There isn't enough time in the day.

I know I am better off for these past two years and feel grateful for this second chance at going to school and completing my teaching degree. I did want to get a Master's Degree one day. It was just a matter of when. It had to be forced on me, but it eliminated the choice of not getting one.

I am also thankful that I am going to India to teach for two weeks in January and would never imagining doing this when I worked full-time in finance. Teaching in another country was something I wanted to do in undergraduate school but couldn't for financial reasons. Having a second chance at being in my 20s by going to college again after gaining life experience is definitely a plus.  The truth is, hind sight is 20/20 because all of the things I regretted not doing the first time around I am doing now.  How many of us get second chances at anything?  I will tell you there aren't many second chances out there, so when you get an opportunity for a do over you should take it.

The thorny part of my do over is that I feel like I should be ahead of the game, career wise, and even in my personal life, but now I am starting at the bottom of the barrel just like everybody else who will be looking for a teaching job. The contemplation about it on my part has been ridiculous and time consuming. Meanwhile, May is right around the corner, and before I know it I will be done. I wish I could be happier and more relaxed, instead of stressing about school, getting a job and whatever else one ruminates over in the middle of the night. I tell myself that I will be so happy I did this, but when exactly? I'm not sure. Maybe if I get a job, but even that will have its challenges.

My friends in career ruts are envious that I am doing this. I will admit I am scared about going into the teaching profession because of all he "bad press" it gets and the negative remarks from professionals in the field. I made it this far, so no turning back. Not looking for a third chance, two is quite enough for now.

Golden Moment Nov. 14-Joseph

With the holidays upon us, Joe's story of how his grandparents met, fell in love and got married on Thanksgiving in 1961 is very uplifting.  I love to hear that the happy ending still exists even after 50 years of marriage. Joe's grandparent's union is not only inspiration, it's determination to stay together.

I am sure they have had their trials and tribulations over the years yet they managed to stay together. (An accomplishment as today's marriages seem to disappear overnight) The press does a good job of reminding us that marriage isn't what it used to be with celebrity couples getting married and divorced every other day. People think spouses are interchangeable like parts on a car and don't always put the time in that it takes to cultivate a meaningful marriage.

During the holidays it's great to show our appreciation to the ones we love by doing nice things and letting them know how much we care. It's not all about gift-giving, it's about acknowledging how our spouses and families are there for us all year long.  My own family drives me crazy at times, but I consider myself lucky. It isn't always easy and we aren't always getting along, but we love and respect each other.

It' so unfortunate that many people with spouses and families don't value them. Then there are those who have no family to rely on in good or bad times. We will only be around for so long and should make the best of it while we are here.  Our families and friends are to be cherished during this time of year.

Chapter 5: Beyond Fake Writing: The Power of Choice

The writing that we do in school is fake. I returned to graduate school after working for 17 years in various fields and I never had to do writing the way I was taught in school and the way I will teach it when I am a teacher. However, the analytical skills that I gained from being an English major did help me to understand and make inferences on whatever I had to read for work. I never really had to critique it or write a response paper on it, or even a persuasive essay. The thought process is there from school even though I didn't put pen to paper.

I can understand why students are reluctant writers and in some situations I agree with them. I find that much of what we learn in school doesn't translate into the real world. Having students start off by writing what they like is a way to stimulate them, however some students will never like it and will always produce poor work. The emphasis on writing seems a little misguided for today's world. I know this sounds crazy coming from an English teacher. Without my life experience I would never have uttered this in a million years. It's important, but it's not like one can't get by without being a skilled writer. There are teachers in other disciplines who cannot even write a well-developed anything and they get by. Many careers don't require one to be an excellent writer and when one is needed one is hired.

Many of the activities in this chapter I wouldn't like to complete myself, like remember and pass the portrait. They seem childish and so what, who cares. Negative thoughts I know, but I have hardly observed any interesting writing activities since I started my field work. The lessons that are interesting start off as reading assignments, then bridge to writing and are more objective.

I have seen words of wisdom done as pearls of wisdom and I am snoring during it. Maybe it is too much like finding cliches and not exciting at all. I need to instruct writing in a way that excites me in order to get my students excited about it. How do I do this? I am not sure yet. This may come from the the mindset that I struggle with writing now that I am a student who returned to school after a long absence.  I feel like I barely used anything that I am learning now or learned in the past because my work wasn't in the academic world. I understand it is a teacher's job to give students the tools they need to be successful, but can't students just be good at what they're good at sometimes?

Cops and Criminals

My day started off the same as any other day when I went to work. I drag myself out of bed in the dark, trip over whatever is on the floor on my way to the bathroom, usually shoes. Today it was my badge and i.d.  It was a cold, dark, and sleepy, winter morning and not exactly being a morning person I was lucky and I didn’t fall and crack my head on the night table. I hop in the shower, skip washing my hair because it takes too long to dry, and get dressed with one eye open. I was always running late, rushing out the door forgetting my case files, gulping down my breakfast, and now I had to remember to pick up my badge off the floor. Then I sit in traffic on the LIE on the way into New York City and curse the cars, in front of me, that wouldn't get out of my way so I could go fight crime.

I was a detective solving narcotics cases at the 18th precinct on the lower west side for the past 16 years. I mostly worked on cases busting big time drug pushers. Dangerous work, but someone had to do it. The only problem was I was done doing it and ready for a change. I had four years left until I retired so I wanted to take my career in a different direction and work towards becoming a child psychologist. I realized a transfer to Special Victims Unit (SVU) would help me get a foot in.

Since the politics at the 18th were getting in the way of doing actual police work, I put in my transfer, much to my boss' dismay, “What are you doing that for, you know if you don’t like it, you’re not comin’ back here.” “Yeah, thanks for your support, boss, good riddance.” Then I headed further up town to Harlem, 125th Street, SVU. I left behind my old neighborhood and headed for the department that solves crimes kids are involved in as either the victim or the perpetrator.

The new precinct was cleaner and much nicer than my old precinct. The office was like a real office, professional and everything was in order. It had a lush carpet, central air-conditioning, office supplies, neat desks and fresh air blowing through the vents. There were computers and printers as well. Compared to my office on the lower west side, which was run down and grey, this was a nice environment conducive to working.

The dread that began to fill me at the 18th subsided when I finally committed to changing precincts. The challenge I immediately faced, was being attracted to my boss, Sergeant Lance. He was tall, dark and looked like he didn't play by the rules. I liked his rough exterior and commanding tone. “Hey you, rookie, yeah I’m talking to you. This is Jules, show her around and make sure she has whatever she needs.” A total bad ass. I was completely mesmerized by his piercing dark yellowish-brown eyes and rough-around-the-edges exterior. Despite all of this, I managed to keep my composure and did not give myself away, but for a first meeting my feelings surprised me. I am not the head-over- heels type of woman, so I vowed I would talk myself out of this instant attraction.

The last thing I would want to do is hurt my impeccable reputation. When you mostly work with men it's easy to get messed up by being attracted to the wrong guy. And the sergeant was definitely the wrong guy, since he was my boss. When that happens the gossiping that takes place is unrelenting, that it's so not worth acting on desires. On top of that, if any of the other guys had a clue the unmerciful teasing I would have to endure, would be unbearable at best. This was one of those times where I had to suppress any undeniable feelings I felt welling up inside of me. I ended up spending my first few months at SVU avoiding my boss, so I could concentrate on my work rather than be distracted by him.

The first few cases I had solved were easy as my new boss wanted to ease me into SVU. I thought, "Not so bad ass after all." I quickly found out that many of the kids reporting crimes are fibbers and most of them are afraid they will get into trouble with their parents for staying out too late or sleeping around so they create stories that don't hold up. Sifting through all of the crap is such a waste of time and so annoying because there are actually kids who are suffering and need help. There should be a sentence for lying to get out of being punished.

After I had been at SVU for a few months, one scorching summer day, when I'd rather be at the beach basking in the sun drinking cranberry and vodka cocktails, I received a call where a man reported seeing teenagers being abused. My partner was out that day, so I picked up the kids and interviewed them. Right away, I knew they were telling the truth about their twisted circumstances. Their situation caused emotions in me that I never thought I had. It was one of the most disturbing cases I ever worked on and the shock of hearing what happened to these children was the only reason I didn't have a complete melt down. By the time, I picked up and interviewed the perpetrator I was an emotional wreck inside. Death by torture would have been too good of a punishment for this excuse of a man.

The children were siblings who were given away by their mom and tortured by their captor. The girl, Skye, was 16 and her brother, Peter was 14 at the time their neighbor called the police to report an incident where he saw, who he thought was the boy's father, put his head in a bucket of water until he passed out while he made his sister watch. The neighbor happened to be fixing his leaky roof and witnessed the sick man hurt this boy, while Skye had to stand by and do nothing.

When I interviewed Skye and Peter, the bucket incident was the least of their torture. Skye had to deal with much worse and suffer in silence because she feared her captor would kill Peter if she told anybody anything. The girl had two children by this creep, who were sold to families willing to adopt them. Skye and Peter were so traumatized that their lack of emotion when describing their horrible lives made it all seem worse than it already was. The tales of beatings that went on for years were so gut-wrenching to hear, it was inconceivable that they survived at all. It was also very disconcerting that no one else in their neighborhood noticed these kids were so mistreated for so long.

My sergeant was listening and watching me interview these kids through the two-way glass. When he got a hold of the perpetrator he knocked a few of the sleaze's teeth out and broke his nose. If I didn't intervene he would have hurt him more, which I really didn't care about, I just didn't want the case to be tainted. This sicko got way with enough already. That was the first time he got caught and a witness picked him out of a line up. He was going down.

The violence that Skye and Peter had endured for most of their lives would cause me to have nightmares for a long time after the case ended. Their resilience was amazing and truly admirable as they had remained close through this entire ordeal. They looked out for each other and were slowly healing while they created a new life for themselves. The horror of this case caused me to re-evaluate my own life and I decided what I really desired.

These kids' circumstances gave me a new perspective and my focus had shifted from my sergeant to me. I knew it would be foolish to pursue feelings that I wasn't even sure about for a man who is my boss. There was very little upside that I could see in that scenario. He may not be interested and then the awkwardness would be ridiculous or we would have to hide our relationship until we were discovered. The downside was that it could ruin me professionally at SVU, he would survive it, the men always do; but I wouldn't be able to recover. I decided that what was important to me was to complete my degree in Child Psychology, while at SVU. My job experience fighting crime and working with children would enable me to help kids in a profound way. When I retire at 40 I will be starting over, but not really.