Student of Life

I am a loud and boisterous person by nature. I might have been produced that way because I grew up in 'Grand Central' with six brothers and amongst a routinely visiting eight aunts and uncles who came with spouses and offspring. It was just craziness at my home on most days. I wouldn't have changed anything, but sometimes it seemed the only way to get noticed was to cause a commotion or be a little loud!

Now there are people that are put in your life to teach you lessons. I learned an incredibly valuable one from my son's first grade teacher. She was a rather petite woman. Very professional and friendly, she was personable and one of those teachers that just draws the best out of her kids. During open house, my husband and I, along with about 25 other sets of parents, poured into her room and were chatting amongst ourselves about activities, children, and miscellaneous. It was a good ten minutes, seriously, before we realized this teacher was talking. The room immediately fell silent, except for this diminutive person who just continued talking in a clear, even, thoughtful, and informative manner. We, as a group, respectfully faced front and all attention was fully garnered on her. What an incredible presence she was, and still is! To command this consideration was amazing. I learned, from her, that you do not always need to be the loudest person to get your point across.

When we were on the All Children's Hospital telethon, our second interviewer and someone who I absolutely adore, was prepping us for camera time. We had already appeared earlier, had been watching all the stories throughout the day, and I truly was dish-towel wringably and emotionally wiped. I leaned over to her and said, "Please just talk to the children and Vic. I'm having a weepy sort of day." She nodded kindly and patted my knee. Her smile just filled me with all kinds of comfort. And then, the cameras were rolling and she spoke to Miles, and then Deanna, and quickly to Vic. And then, "She asked me not to make her speak tonight. She said she's having a 'weepy' day. Can you explain why, Lyn?" As shocked as I was, and mortified mind you, I trudged my way through tears and choked speech to talk of our affiliation and appreciation for all that the hospital does. It was tremendously difficult to do, but you should have heard those phones ring. She knew EXACTLY what she was doing! From you, dear friend, I learned that emotions are not something to be hidden or ashamed of. They can be powerful tools for positive impact!

When my daughter was in high school, trying to find herself, I got a phone call from a guidance counselor. Yes, the dreaded phone call! "Your daughter is in my office. There was a near-altercation in the cafeteria during break." I listened to the story. Neither distraught or disappointed. I know my daughter. I know she's an amazing child, but if pushed she ~ at the time ~ would usually break before bending. I replied to the counselor, "OK. Do I need to come get her or is there any repercussions?" The counselor was almost on auto-pilot when he began, "There were several witnesses and she still seems pretty agita . . . what did you say?" I repeated my statement and there was that pin-dropping type of silence. Slowly, that counselor opened up to reveal to me, "Are you joking? You're NOT going to say that it's NOT her fault? She didn't do anything? Not YOUR child!" I laughed and said, "I've been involved in schools too long to know the truth . . . about kids AND adults." He thanked me for my candor, my honesty, my sincerity, and most of all my ability to see the entire situation. From this, and many situations prior, I learned that taking a moment to reflect and view the issue from a broader perspective will almost always serve you better than simply reacting!

There are so many other instances like this. You learn these incredible tidbits from obscure little moments and unexpected teachers. You must just be willing to actually hear the teacher, make the moment count, and truly respond to the whole story; not just your little piece of it. It is a magical thing to be a student of life! I hope I NEVER graduate!