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Sunday, December 16, 2012

SOMETHING TO SAY by sherri hilton streight


I have something to say.
It’s locked though…
you know?
inside…
Sometimes I want to whisper
but
no one hears a roar so
why would they hear a whisper?
Talk…talk…talk with no hearing… ears used only
not for listening...
but waiting to reply.

posted by Mines Broken @ Sunday, December 16, 2012   0 Comments

Friday, December 14, 2012

Teacher

I am constantly telling the students in my class that, "You can't control anyone else or what they do. You can only control yourself." If they can learn that at a young age how much smoother their life will go.

Many of the students in my class have had horrible things happen in their lives and they relive them. They can't trust and their lives, that should have been cherished and protected, were not. They are scarred and hurt and have lost their trust. I wish I could make it manageable for them but I cannot.

So, I make the class as safe as I can. I set a routine they can count on. I wipe their tears and tell them that here, they are safe but today makes some of that a lie so I must change what I say. Today, I had to tell them I would protect them with my life and I meant it. I could not allow a child who trusted me to be harmed. They know I would as I have taken kicks and hits to the head from out of control students to protect them and yes, I would lay down my life for those students too.

We, as teachers don't just teach, we attempt to put broken, little lives together if but for a short time each day. We wipe noses, tie shoes, bring food and clothes to school, take care of sick children when no one is home to do so, make sure they have their coats on when it's cold, hug them when they come to school with a harsh word from someone they love.

We learn their voices from out in the hall and can tell you who it is and what the emotion is by the tone of voice. We hear all the things that go on in their home and then have to make the decision as to whether to turn it in or not. We know whose father has abused them and their mother. Whose parent punches the walls because they are angry. Who has been molested. We can tell by the look in the eyes or lack of, whether this child is headed for trouble or not but at a such young ages, no one will listen. I imagine the teacher of this man who killed today saw in his eyes long ago something that disturbed them. We talk about it among ourselves and watch....watch for the signs that they are getting out of control...that something is coming.

We teach because we love children. We do not teach for money or glory or fame because that has long been taken away and in some cases, never existed. We teach to impart and comfort and hope that each child will take something from us into their future life and remember what Mrs.... or Mr... once said to them. We hope...

posted by Mines Broken @ Friday, December 14, 2012   0 Comments

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Special Time

As I drove through the neighborhood I grew up in today, fall color rose up to meet me in the form of swirling leaves and with those leaves came memories. This is where I had my first kiss, my first love, my first bra which I was informed by one of the “older girls,” that I needed. I accepted this from her but when my mom told me the same thing, I rebelled. Why did I accept it from a teenager and not my own mother, because she explained why I needed one and I
knew she cared or she wouldn’t have pulled a kid aside that was nothing to her except one of many little kids running around. I put on the bra without further protest.

Mrs. Powell’s house is still the same color after all these years—40 years, can it really be that long? On past her house to the Logsdon’s. Years ago a top story was added. My brother liked Jana and Phil Thompson held her down while my brother kissed her. First grade I think. Jana didn’t appreciate it too much! Next to the Logsdon’s, the Thompson’s. How many times I watched Susan practice cheerleading and wanted to be one too. On the right Kelly and Scott Shaw. I had a crush on Scott that lasted an eternity and Kelly was my best friend. Her birthday was November 20th and mine the 24th. When we were smaller, we would play with no one else from her birthday until mine was over.

Next to the Shaw’s, the Jordan’s …Pam, Jacky, Tommy, and Donald. Donald would come out with a towel pinned around his neck and the big boys would lift him high up to fly just like Mr. Terrific, (the guy who took the power pill…I think.) Then me…and my brother. We lived next to the Jordan’s. I loved my room. When I had to move, there was a lose piece of wood in the parquet floor and I put a note in there saying the house was mine and always would be. In my heart, it still is. We owned Mr. Swiss and how many times I walked down there and back or to Ben Franklin’s and back or Git n Go, I can’t say. I was all over that neighborhood.
 
Next to us, Mr. Dobbs and across the street Bruce Pullman. My brother and Bruce nearly burned Mr. Dobbs house once when they played with matches. Boy, did they get it! That reminds me of the time my brother and I were playing in the backyard with firecrackers…Black Cats… and our Mimosa Tree had ants in it. My brother didn’t like that so we put what totaled 500 Black Cats in the tree and set them all off. Oh my gosh, the whole limb blew off!

At that same time, he was supposed to be mowing the lawn and left the gas out. I kicked it over and it rolled under the gas hot water tank. Of course, Kelly was back there with me and she starts stuttering and pointing. I turn around and the garage door frame was on fire, the result of the turned over gas and hot water tank. We were really in trouble this time. Kelly and my brother crawled over the fence on top of each other (I’ve always wondered why they didn’t just open it) and I ran next door to tell Maebelle to call the fire department. My mom came just in time and manned the garden hose and put it out. It’s a good thing too because the fire truck went up Laverne instead of Thompson and they said if she hadn’t done that the house would have been gone. Neighbors came from all over and wanted to know if we were alright, wanted to help.

Next to Mr. Dobbs, Gary, David, and later Lauri (don’t remember how to spell her name.) As we grew older Gray had the neatest 68 or 69 Camaro. We all envied him. I remember David falling or something and biting his tongue through. Ouch! Across the street on Laverne Laura, Leslie, and Lisa Meek. Lisa died while we all lived there, just a little girl about 4 or 5. Before she died she began to drag her leg. I could hardly stand that she was going to die.

Up Laverne, Vicki Grider. I played at her house a lot. We’d bake cookies in her Easy Bake Oven and one time when an older girl chased us to her house we stood safe just inside her door and yelled at her, “You think you’re hot snot but you’re really cold boogers in a tin can.” LOL Kids! One cold, December day, behind her house I cut a cedar tree to put in my room as a Christmas tree. I worked and worked to get it cut and when I got it home, boy, did it stink! Being stubborn I wouldn’t throw it away after all the work I’d done. It stunk up the whole house but my parents let me have it anyway.

On up from her Chris and Lee Reynolds. Terri and Tammy Haney as well as other friends lived on Laverne and Kelly Shaw got run over by a motorcycle on Laverne. It scraped her back all up and all along her back in the shape of her ribs, huge scabs. They itched her so and the doctors told her not to scratch them or they’d scar. She’d come to my house and beg me to pull them off. I did. That’s what friends do for each other LOL.

The crosswalk that led from Thompson Drive and Laverne Street to Sequoyah is still there but in neglect. I loved that school and went there from 2nd to 7th grade. It was here I ran in track, played numerous neighborhood baseball games, walked the top of the fence, slid down the hill on cardboard boxes to the side of it, watched a boy cut his head open in the drainage tunnel, and slid down the hill in the little woods on a toboggan made for five-- another neighborhood kids prized possession and experienced the best teachers ever! They are what I base the way I teach on and how many times I ran home after hearing a whistle only to find out it was the Jordan’s dad whistling for them and not my mom and the same thing happened to them too. We all ran just in case it was for us and then looked to see who was at the front door of which house. Dang it, it’s Mr. Jordan and off us free ones would go back to play, back to heaven.

One winter Kelly and I made a giant snowman. We rolled the bottom snowball all the way around the block and then another until he was so tall we couldn’t reach to put on his hat and scarf. That was an April snowstorm and the air was so cold and frosty at night, the stars so bright and crisp, you almost believed you could touch them.

It took less than 5 minutes to drive through. The neighborhood still boasts a lot of kids. I see them walking Independence and Thompson and Laverne. All those memories flooded my mind as I drove through. I hope those childhood memories still roam that neighborhood, invisible to the eye and carry on lives in someplace we can’t see.

posted by Mines Broken @ Sunday, November 18, 2012   0 Comments

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Long Time, No See

I don't know how to use blogger anymore. I started this blog way back in 2006 and haven't looked at it for quite a while but every time I do, it's different. For example, I want to edit some older posts but I don't see how to do that. The only thing I can get to is posting so I guess this is all I can do at present.

I just previewed what I've written and I am not impressed by the way it looks. Guess I'll post this and see what I can find out!

posted by Mines Broken @ Saturday, November 17, 2012   0 Comments

Friday, February 03, 2012

Drink Wine

Drink wine, it's what remains of the harvest of youth
- the season of roses and wine and drunken friends.
Be happy for this moment, this moment is your life.

lines from
The Rubiyat of Omar Khayyam


Well…I don’t know who I’m writing to, but someone!  What do I want to say?  What should I say?  And, do I need to say anything?  Let’s start with life.  There are few things in life that really matter.  I mean, really matter.  Most of life is someone else’s urgency, someone else’s drama, thrust upon us or perhaps, taken willingly but nonetheless, there it is.  We reach out and take it, opened armed and wonder what happened and why we’ve made it ours.

So…what does matter?  Well, I would start with love, kindness, honesty, family, friends and belief in God—things that aren’t popular anymore and even considered unneeded by much of society.  Then I would say nature, animals, and the sweet things of the earth. 

Have you ever watched lightning split the sky wide open arcing clear across and not felt the awesome power of earth.  Have you watched mighty waves come crashing in, knocking down everything in their path but realizing even with all that power, the ocean can come no further, its boundaries are set.  Have you ever wondered why and how that boundary was set?

Have you ever smelled the sweet fragrance after it’s just rained and everything smells and look so clean and new?  Have you witnessed the birth of any creature?  Have you ever searched the boundless blue sky of the day or the vast darkness of night and wondered at how small you felt in all that vastness and why the stars never leave their course?  Did you wonder why you felt so small?  Did you sense something bigger than yourself? 

Have you ever noticed how nature reacts to things that happen?  Nature and let anything knock it down for long before it’s up again!  Tree’s split asunder and just keep growing. Flowers and grass grow right beside a busy road and in some instances, right in the path of heavy traffic.  Animals are harmed and keep on with their life.  We can learn from nature if we only will.

Much of life is also lived dramatically, as if upon a huge stage and our lives played out for all to witness and comment on.  We get plenty of comments, but few actually witnesses what is hidden inside—the part that only we know.  Yet life is lived as if each moment were a soap opera until we are so tense, the nerves stretched so taut, that we nearly explode with all the pent up emotion. 

And, what about the different masks we all wear?  Here’s one for this friend and the one worn for parents and the one we keep hidden, the one only we know about and all the other ones we feel society demands. 

Well, your in-basket is never empty and when you go, someone else will finish it so take the time to live and breathe and feel and love and forgive for the moment may never pass your way again.

posted by Mines Broken @ Friday, February 03, 2012   0 Comments

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Things Come and Go

Things come and things go
feelings, love, friends, foes
all of this i know not where
it hides or tarries, out of site
but this I know, when we grow old
someone leads, where we wish not to go
the youth that was, fades away
gray replaces as gold recedes.
those who once, took care of us
in turn must now reverse with us
the chalice held in youthful hands
disapperars as age advances
the chore at hand, I must now do
switches us from me to you. by sstreight

My brother and I have a very distasteful chore we have to do tomorrow concerning our mother who is getting up in age and making unhealthy choices for herself. The time has come for us to step in. She must be lead as she once lead us. I hope we can convince her not to do what she is wanting to.

posted by Mines Broken @ Saturday, January 14, 2012   0 Comments

Saturday, January 07, 2012

Bits and Pieces

The New Year went well I guess. Didn't do anything. I started watching my new granddaughter this week and her older sister. I enjoy watching them. I was watching the older one 5 days a week but now her other grandmother and I are going to share the task. I'll have two days, she'll have two days and we'll share Wednesday by switching every week.

Last week we went tot he Thunder game the day before New Year's Eve and stayed in a hotel. It was a lot of fun. We only live 30 minutes from there but it's always fun to stay in a hotel, at least I think so.


I'll leave with a poem I wrote.


The things we do, come back to us
heap trouble on us
that
may or may not
leave
The actions we take, leave scars
some deep
some shallow
some never to heal
but
scars, anyhow.
How we react, whether victim or doer
speak mounds of character
whether
good character
bad character
or indifferent
but character, nonetheless.  by sstreight

posted by Mines Broken @ Saturday, January 07, 2012   0 Comments