A Pisces Princess, No Matter What

               I’ve changed my mind.  Or maybe I should say, I’ve finally made up my mind.  For a while now, I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo.  I’ve talked about it with my loved ones, I’ve written about it, but I hadn’t acted on it.  (In case you missed it, here’s the link to my blog post about the reasons why I was thinking of getting a tattoo:  http://wendykennar.blogspot.com/2013/04/taking-back-my-legs.html)

   My legs have been out of my control for four years now, yet a tattoo was something I would have total control over.  I also wanted a permanent reminder that I was a “Pisces Princess.”  Like many women I know, I’m quick to put the needs of others before my own, quick to try to compliment someone else while criticizing myself.  I know I shouldn’t do those things, and I thought a visual reminder would help me make changes in my daily life that would influence me to behave differently and thus see myself in a different light.  (Here’s the link to my blog post where I outlined the steps necessary for living like a Pisces Princess:   http://wendykennar.blogspot.com/2013/12/protocol-for-pisces-princess.html)

   I’ve always been too-critical of myself, and within the last few years, I’ve see-sawed between becoming even harder on myself and finally lightening up and treating myself more gently.  But in the last few weeks, I’ve experienced increased levels of pain and exhaustion.  With that comes increased levels of unhappiness and self-criticism.  

   I certainly wasn’t treating myself like a Pisces Princess.  And then it occurred to me.  Having the tattoo wouldn’t change my mindset.  For several weeks, I’ve been wearing a pendant attached to my anklet -- a pendant resembling the Pisces symbol.  It was my “try-out,” until I made a decision about the tattoo.  I saw the anklet, I knew what it represented, but it didn’t change the fact that I was putting myself down.  And I knew then that a tattoo wasn’t the answer.  

   I realized that a tattoo would mean an extra expense and extra pain but wouldn’t guarantee that I would start treating myself more gently.  There’s really no magic charm to ward off feelings of inadequacy and self-pity.

   So even without the tattoo, I know I am a Pisces Princess.  Whether I feel like it or not.  

Being Wendy

                As a kid, I didn’t like my name.  A girl can only hear so many “Wendy’s hamburger” or “It’s windy outside and Wendy inside” jokes.  

   As I got older, I didn’t think too much of my name.  It was just my name.  And not until I was pregnant and we were considering potential baby names, did I really stop to think about what my name meant.

   Now, I rather like my name.  I like the fact that it is common enough for me to find my name on a mug, but not so common that I usually run into other Wendy’s.

   It is often said that the name “Wendy” was invented by J.M. Barrie, the author of Peter Pan.  I’ve been thinking about my name and the famous “Wendy” of Peter Pan fame quite a bit lately as my son and I recently read the Disney Storybook version of Peter Pan.  I started comparing myself to this other Wendy, wondering how I measure up.

   And as I’m prone to do, I’ve made a list.  Here are five things this Wendy has in common with the other Wendy.

 

1. Our names.  Peter Pan’s Wendy is formally known as Wendy Moira Angela Darling.  Unlike that famous Wendy, I do not have a middle name (something I didn’t particularly like as a child when it seemed as if everyone else did have a middle name).  Although I do think we can both be described as “friendy Wendy.”
2. Our nicknames.  While not exactly a nickname in the Disney version, Tinker Bell did describe Wendy as a “Wendy-bird.”  And one of my favorite colleagues when I was a teacher did affectionately refer to me as “Wendy-bird.”
3. Our hobbies.  The Disney Wendy enjoys telling stories, first to her younger brothers than to the Lost Boys.  Likewise, I also enjoy writing stories; however, through the years, my “stories” are predominately non-fiction and my hobby has now evolved into a career for me.
4. Our roles.  Wendy Darling was a mother figure to the young boys in her life.  And for a significant part of my life, I have served as a mother figure as well.  I never considered myself “just a teacher” - I was a second parent to my students.  And now, for ever after, I am honored to be my son’s mother.
5. Our personalities.  The Disney Wendy is rather cute and sweet, a generally pleasant girl.  She’s a girl with a lot of faith in Peter, and when  faced with a dangerous situation, she demonstrated bravery, opting to walk the plank rather than join Captain Hook’s crew.  Truth be told, Wendy Darling isn’t a bad character to be associated with at all.  

Here and There

Dear Readers,

One of my personal essays has been included in the summer edition of Breath and Shadow.  Here's the link:

http://www.abilitymaine.org/breath/sum14c.html

As always, thanks for reading!

Brave

   “What does ‘brave’ mean?” my six-year-old son asked.

   I dodged the question.  “What do you think it means?”

   “I don’t know.  What is it?”

   Ryan asked this question after singing along (loudly) to “Brave” performed by Sara Bareilles.  It’s a song I first discovered in connection with my writing.  My favorite UCLA Extension Writer’s Program instructor had written on her blog about the bravery that is required for writers to write honestly.  I listened to the song and realized I liked it -- its sound and its message.

   My son was waiting for an answer, and I wasn’t sure how to give him one.  Bravery is one of those concepts like “love” -- we know it when we experience it, but articulating what it means isn’t always easy. 

   I took a minute and thought about my answer.  And I remembered -- this was the first song that played in my car as I drove myself to the writing retreat in Lake Arrowhead back in May.  

   So I told Ryan that being brave means there might be something that you thought was too hard or too scary or something that you just couldn’t do, but if you’re brave, you try to do it anyway.

   He was satisfied with my answer and went to the next song on his playlist.

   I think it’s only fairly recently that I’ve begun to acknowledge bravery through my simplistic definition.  I used to think bravery required grand actions -- firefighters rushing into burning buildings and astronauts landing on the moon.  Those individuals certainly are brave, but bravery isn’t limited to them.

   Being brave is necessary in true writing, and true living.

Readers, if you’re interested, the following YouTube video plays “Brave” performed by Sara Bareilles and includes the song’s lyrics.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyAfjUHlFSM

Never Again

   The stores are starting to display their back-to-school wares, and I’m starting to feel a bit nostalgic.  Don’t get me wrong -- there are plenty of aspects of teaching that I don’t miss (writing report cards and attending staff meetings).  But, there are plenty of things I do miss (mainly the kids and the connections we shared).  

    I rummaged through the bins at Target, fingering the Happy Birthday certificates, and acknowledging that I would never need to purchase another pack of birthday certificates again.  And that’s not all.

   Here, I share fifty “never again” moments:

1.  Never again will I greet a class with “Morning loves,” before leading them to our classroom door.

2.  Never again will I conduct parent/teacher conferences, attempting to condense the positive remarks, the areas of improvement, and the concerns into a fifteen-minute conversation.

3.  Never again will I roll up our flag, lock up the closets, and turn in my classroom key before summer vacation.

4.  Never again will I return to a dark, musty classroom and begin unpacking closets and cleaning desks.

5.  Never again will I write the page number within a heart on our whiteboard.

6.  Never again will I host a multicultural Thanksgiving potluck feast.

7.  Never again will I spend Friday afternoons grading weekly quizzes (spelling, vocabulary, states and capitals).

8.  Never again will I travel to different office supply stores searching for the best deals on crayons, glue, rulers, notebook paper, and spiral notebooks.

9.  Never again will I teach a room-full of children the lyrics to our national anthem.

10.  Never again will I need to report suspected cases of child abuse.

11.  Never again will I say “I love you” to children I am not related to.

12.  Never again will I demonstrate the proper way to “drop/cover/hold” and go through all the possible scenarios if an earthquake should occur.

13. Never again will I hang bulletin board paper.

14.  Never again will I need to brainstorm gift ideas for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.

15.  Never again will I need to determine if Lunar New Year will be in January or February.

16.  Never again will I have to practice songs for the winter holiday show.

17.  Never again will I have to plead for paper towels for our classroom.

18.  Never again will I try to find just the right book for each child as a holiday gift.

19.  Never again will I need to shop for “brain food” (snacks I would give my students during testing and during those lessons when we all needed a pick-me-up).

20.  Never again will I bring my electric grill into a classroom and make quesadillas to celebrate Cinco de Mayo.

21.  Never again will I host a “Back to School Night” complete with snacks for hungry parents who have arrived straight from work.

22.  Never again will I go to work in my pajamas in honor of Dr. Seuss’s birthday and Read-Across-America.

23.  Never again will I spend lunch with a table-full of students as a reward for their efforts.

24.  Never again will I spend the last few days of school celebrating all the summer birthdays so that each child has received a special birthday acknowledgment.

25.  Never again will I need to teach multiple children, multiple times, the difference between a homophone and a homograph.

26.  Never again will I go searching for tennis balls to be used as silencers on the bottoms of my students’ chairs.

27.  Never again will I go shopping for items to fill our prize box.

28.  Never again will I look at a face, now older, and try to remember the name of the child who had once been in my class.

29.  Never again will I save paper towel rolls to make time capsules during the first week of the school year.

30.  Never again will I paint children’s hands until they look like turkeys.

31.  Never again will I read package labels to insure our brain food is nut free.

32.  Never again will I be trained in the proper way to administer an EpiPen.

33.  Never again will I pause when the fire alarm sounds, wondering if it is in fact a drill or if we will hear an announcement to disregard the alarm and continue with instruction.

34.  Never again will I write out Valentine cards for thirty-plus students.

35.  Never again will I explain to a room full of children why I don’t allow the word “hate” in our classroom.

36.  Never again will I plan a multitude of yearly celebrations:  a Halloween party, a winter holiday party, and an end-of-the-year party.

37.  Never again will I periodically test a child’s reading speed while reassuring the student that speed isn’t as important as comprehension.

38.  Never again will I think of something positive to say for each child as we fill out our Valentine’s Day Compliment Page for each class member.

39.  Never again will I brainstorm ways to celebrate the 100th day of school.

40.  Never again will I lock our classroom door and huddle with my students on the floor during a lockdown drill.

41.  Never again will I have to reassure students that my number one job is to keep them healthy and safe, even if it means stepping into the line of fire.

42.  Never again will I create an end-of-the-year collage depicting our year together.

43.  Never again will I craft an introductory, “Welcome to our class” letter.

44.  Never again will I write an end-of-the-year, goodbye letter.

45.  Never again will I help students write letters to the President of the United States in honor of President’s Day.

46.  Never again will I end the day with a good-bye hug for my students.  

47.  Never again will I officiate an in-class election to coincide with society’s mayoral/gubernatorial/presidential election.

48.  Never again will I need to take the yearly online child abuse training.

49.  Never again will I create a bulletin board display for Hispanic-American Heritage Month.

50.  Never again will I be regularly addressed as “Mrs. Kennar.”

I Bought a Bike!

            Back in the days before I was a mother and I had a lot more free time, I used to enjoy riding my beach cruiser around our neighborhood.  It was a fun, relaxing way for me to get some exercise.  But after my son was born, I was too tired from working and mothering to think of getting myself on a bike.  My bike became this object that just took up space.  So I got rid of it.

   Then, after my son’s second birthday I started to consider the possibility of managing our time so that once or twice a week I could go out for a bike ride again.  I just needed a bike.  I had seen a pink beach cruiser that caught my eye, but I hesitated on purchasing it.  Would I really use it?  Or, would the demands of reality turn the new bike into a wasted purchase?  Before I could take the leap and buy the bike, I wound up in the hospital with my mysterious swollen left calf.  And because so many of my necessary daily activities caused pain, riding a bike didn’t seem possible.

   Last fall, when I participated in the chronic pain group, my physical therapist and I discussed the ways in which I exercised.  The list was short.  He asked me about the activities I used to do for exercise.  I mentioned my bike rides, and he encouraged me to try it again.  I explained my hesitations, my fears.  Would I be able to ride again?   Would bike riding increase my level of pain?  My physical therapist was extremely encouraging, reminding me that it didn’t matter how far I went or how long I rode.  Five minutes or to the end of the block and back.  All that mattered was that I rode.  And that bike riding made me happy.

   So almost four years after my hospitalization, I bought myself a bike.  I’ve been looking and comparison shopping but nothing seemed quite right until last week when all the pieces came together and I found a reasonably priced bike in a color I like.

   Shortly after my birthday in March, I had written about the year to come, about my desire to do new things, things for me.  (http://wendykennar.blogspot.com/2014/03/birthday-musings.html)  Purchasing a bike was one of them.  

   My longest bike ride, so far, has been ten minutes around my neighborhood.  But it’s still me on my bike for ten minutes.  And when I’m riding, I experience a sense of joy and wonder.  I feel like shouting out, “Look what I can do!”  Most of the time, I tend to look at my illness in terms of what I cannot do any more.  My new bike isn’t just giving me an opportunity to exercise or to participate when my son is riding his bike.  My new bike is changing my perspective.