When It’s Your Children, Your School. Rumor of Threat.

Without much reaction, I read the email from Steve Unowsky, Superintendent of Richfield Schools. I figured his email was a patterned response to the Florida shootings, stating the school takes all threats seriously.

Immediately after I received a text from Juan Jose’.

Did you guys get an email from school?

Yes. About your safety.

Yeah. I’m not sure what it says on the email.

 His text compelled me to read Unowsky’s email closer. I sat upright. My senses now on high alert. Email came at 9:30.

I wasn’t alarmed because of my experience with the Richfield school district and the Richfield police department. I trusted that the school and police department had matters in hand and that the safest place for Juan Jose’ and Crystel was to remain in school.

On many occasions, I’ve interacted with school administrators because of concerns for my own children or other children. At times, I’ve asked them to intervene and have a conversation with Juan Jose’ or Crystel, or to check in on another student that might be struggling. There are times I’ve been an advocate for my children and at times, against my children’s wishes, a proponent for Richfield schools.

Richfield administrators have regarded my concerns seriously and with empathy.

Jody, Coach Marty, Beth

Jody and I also volunteer at many school events and have been active in Juan Jose’s and Crystel’s sport activities. This has allowed us more occasions to interact with teachers, coaches, and school officials.

As an active volunteer police reserve officer for over ten years, I trust our police department and the men and women who serve.

Even so, I imagined something happening, not today, but in the future in Juan Jose’s classroom. Tears welled up. Stop it, Beth, I told myself. That’s not what is happening now.

I continued my text: If anything ever happens let me and Mama Jody know. We can go home and put on our police reserve uniforms and be near the school. I’ll forward Unowsky’s email to you.

He responded: Kids are leaving school because of the email. Parents are just pulling them out.

It felt important to keep Juan Jose’ and Crystel in school. To trust what I knew that I could trust. My experience with Richfield schools and the Richfield police. I don’t think we need to do that. It’s just a message saying they are on alert. I sent you the email.

I got it. I heard a couple of people saying their parents want them to go home.

 You’re okay. They are just checking out rumors.

 I know. Just checking in.

I sent a heart emoji. If we get a call out to be a presence around the school, I’ll let you know.

 Okay. Thumbs up emoji.

 Just read this email. I agree. Jody texted.

 A little later Juan Jose’ texted: Everyone is freaking out. I’m like the only one who’s not.

I didn’t want other students to see Juan Jose’ and Crystel leaving. They know their moms are in police reserves. When Jody and I are at school events, we are also watching over their kids. Please tell your sister. There is nothing to worry about. If there is Mama Jody and I will come to the school.

 Okay but I never see Crystel.

Send her a text. It is helpful being a part of the police department. And Mama Jody and I are. Mama Jody and I even have patrol tonight. 

 Okay.

 Jody texted. We just got an update from Unowsky that basically confirms decision to stay at school. I forward to you.

Juan texted: There’s a few people who have just left class.

A little later, Everyone left. He sent a photo.

 Woah. Not you, though. I texted.

Ya smiley face emoji. I was proud of him.

I’ll pick you after school, I said.

Crystel and Juan Jose’ playing games on McGruff (me).

That evening volunteering as police reserve officers, Jody and I spent time being a presence at the Richfield middle school dance and at the High School for the girls’ senior night basketball game. Both events were mellow and low key.

I continue to trust the Richfield schools and the Richfield police department.

Because, I trust you and me. We are the police. We are the school. We are the community.

 

 

 

 

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What Makes For A Strong Family?

Richfield Dual Language School fiesta. Playing games on McGruff.

Richfield Dual Language School fiesta. Playing games on McGruff.

I think about this a lot since my children will be starting middle school next year. Middle school means 900 students in three grades compared to 400 students in five grades at Richfield Dual Language School.

Middle school means dances, parties, old and new friends.

Middle school means more access to social media.

Middle school means I’m just outside of my parent’s reach.

Guatemala

Guatemala

Or, does it?

A strong family is in my mind because I want my children in my circle of influence. I don’t want them to make choices that have no do-over.

So, how to keep them close?

A lot of people believe that eating dinner together every evening or even several times a week is vital. That isn’t going to happen in our family. Jody and I often don’t eat dinner in the evening, although we make sure our children and their friends are well fed.

One constant in our life is putting the kids to bed. We take turns with them, as we have since they were infants. This of course, will become less practical as they get older.

I don’t want Antonio and Crystel to be lost in middle and high school like I was. I want them to be able to ask me for help without rebuke and even to bring their friends’ concerns to me if need be. I want to be accessible.

Boundary Waters

Boundary Waters

To this end, I’ve done a good job, even though at every school conference this year Jody and I’ve been surprised. The children take turns with who is having ‘issues.’I tell my kids that they couldn’t ever do anything worse than I did in school and that is the truth. The difference is the world is a much more dangerous place and a lot less forgiving than it was 44 years ago.

Tae Kwon Do

Tae Kwon Do

Having a strong family means having strong relationships within the family. It’s very important to me that Antonio and Crystel are friends. Sometimes, I still remind them that we adopted them together so they would always have each other.

Mondays have become our family Tae Kwon Do day. It is our sit down dinner. Antonio, Crystel, Jody and I are black belts. We have had many meals together the last several years. Our testing day is a banquet.

Once in a while we have game night, and when Amazing Race is on television, we all gather around imagining Mama Beth and Mama Jody as contenders.

Loft Mentor Series

Loft Mentor Series

Out of all that we do, I think it is our adventures that keep us strong. Doing new and different activities or eating meals in new restaurants. Since I won the Loft Mentor Series, we’ve been attending the readings as a family and eating out at a new restaurant prior to the reading.

And then there are our more adventurous trips which go a long ways toward bonding us as a family—camping in the Boundary Waters, visiting Guatemala, taking a train to Chicago, Mexico, driving to Arkansas, Florida, and cross country skiing in Wisconsin.

Mexico

Mexico

Sharing the above with family and friends also tightens the bond.

A strong family can mean many things. Tonight a strong family means no electronics and no friends over until all MIS (missing homework) on a fifth grader’s conference report are replaced with a grade.

I’ve Never Had Something Not Burn

I’ve never had something not burn.

I was thinking of this when I was going through all these papers that we have collected throughout the school year that the kids have brought home from school. All year long they bring home math and spelling sheets, art drawings, more math and spelling. At the time you can’t throw anything away because it is a piece of art or they got 5 out 5 right or 8 out of 10 or maybe even 1 out of 10. Regardless, you have to keep the school papers because in the moment it is actual work to them and if you toss it in the trash you risk having your message be that their work isn’t important. Even if you place the papers carefully in the recycling bin, hiding them under the Sunday paper, you are still THROWING their hard work out.

The question is what do you keep?

I have no frame of reference. Our barn burnt down when I was in 3rd grade, our house burnt down when I was in 7th grade, and I burnt my back when I was in10th grade. You see what I mean when I say I’ve never not had something burn?

Jody has been the one that will pack decorations away after a holiday, storing them from year to year. To me, it is all temporary. It could go poof.

blog clothes 008But, I’ve gone along with Antonio and Crystel having memory boxes. We have stored away the infant clothes they were wearing when we first got them at seven and eight months old. Favorite baby clothes and shoes are also tucked away.

Sometimes it was the kids telling us that an item or piece of clothing should go in their memory box. For one, it was a way of knowing Mama Beth wouldn’t give it away.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOnce, I made the mistake of giving the neighbor girl one of Crystel’s outfits that no longer fit her. According to Crystel it was her favorite though I couldn’t recall the last time I saw the dress on her. Seeing it on some other little girl must have jarred her memory. Much like if they would find their homework papers in the recycling bin.

Another time I stocked a classroom store with toys, pens, and other items from their playroom. During school, a classmate said to Crystel, “Isn’t that yours?” It was a group of small colored pens. Crystel hid them behind other toys so none of her classmates would see them. When I got home, she greeted me with, “Mom, how could you? How could you? I was saving those pens for college.” I had to call the teacher and ask for them back.

Sifting through their 4th grade school work, I wondered why I didn’t remember ever bringing home this much paper from school. Then I recall the trash barrel we had on the farm. When the wastebaskets needed emptying it all went in the barrel and you burned it. Poof. I grew up in a family of 12 children. Can you imagine the load of school papers that came home? The trash barrel was always lit.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAEven though I didn’t grow up having a memory box, keepsakes, journals, etc…. I do see their value and each year I’ve journaled and kept mementos for the children. I’ve enjoyed it as much as them when we go back and look at how they have grown.

Recently, I read how a much asked for graduation present of high school and college graduates has been to receive a quilt made of t-shirts, sweatshirts, and other clothing worn by them throughout the years. I brought this idea up to Jody, Antonio, and Crystel during breakfast one morning. Looks like we already have a good start.

Looking at the blue bins, full of papers, it occurs to me that it is time to pass the baton and have them decide what is kept. I have set their bins aside for the first rainy day. I’ll stock up on glue, tape, scissors and two new notebooks.

Hiking the Canyon

Starting our hike up Pampatin Canyon, Santa Cruz la Laguna

Antonio had mumbled and grumbled up the zigzag paved road to the village square the first evening at Santa Cruz la Laguna and often brought up that traveling by tuk tuk was an excellent way of going from point to point and why didn’t we do that more often. He hadn’t warmed to the idea that we were a-people afoot. Still, I was hopeful when he was handed a walking stick for our hike up Pampatin Canyon. He could poke, stab, and slash his way through the jungle, over the creeks, and up the gorge that starts its accent from the backyard of Los Elementos. In my suitcase back at our suite were the guide books Moon Guatemala and one that I thought would be particularly helpful on our trip, Moon’s Guatemalan’s Western Highlands Including Chichicastenango & Lake Atitlan. But I didn’t crack the handbooks open our entire trip. No need. Lee Beal and our Guatemalan guides were our experts. They went into detail about the age-old traditions of the Mayans, the colorful mountain villages, the indigenous Guatemalans, and the forest jungle.

The jungle

After I started blogging about our trip, I quickly learned that even Google couldn’t provide the information about the area surrounding Lake Atitlan that Lee and the guides did. It was through Lee that I learned that the old and original name Mayan of the village of Santa Cruz (Spanish for Holy Cross) is Pampati. The name of the canyon is from this origin.I shrugged when handed a walking stick by our guide, Alex. I’m not a grumbler. I’m agile. I can skip up rocks. I survived Kor Am Tae Kwon Do black belt camp. Quickly, I learned the poker was useful for pushing aside large leaves that I termed itch weed. Alex told us the correct name of the leaf but my head is only so big. As far as I was concerned it was itch weed and I shouldn’t touch it. We stopped often on our trek up the canyon as he pointed out a fruit, a plant, a leaf, and coffee plants.

Alex showing us the pitaya fruit

Alex nodded to our left towards two children, who looked to be about 5 and 7 years old, resting, tucked under a tree with a bundle of wood made up of dead twigs and branches. Alex told us that any child who wasn’t in school or working had the job of fetching wood from the forest for cooking fires or to sell. Of course, I hoped Antonio and Crystel were hearing this.

When we received photos from their birth families, I sat with them, and told them to look past what their eyes first saw. “See your family sitting around the table and on the bunk bed?” I said to Crystel, “From this photo you can tell that this one room is the family’s living room, bedroom, and kitchen. The room is smaller than your bedroom.” I added, “Look past your family and see the toothbrush on the window sill? There is only one toothbrush. It is likely that your family is sharing that toothbrush. If you look at the walls you can see that they aren’t painted. The walls are plastered or whitewashed.”I wanted Antonio and Crystel aware on our Guatemala trip. This is their birth country: beautiful, vibrant, rich in culture, poor and illiterate. Alex and Samuel our guides, would receive 200 quetzales, about $25.00 per day for their service, their skill set speaking English, is marketable. The average Guatemalan earns 50 to 60 quetzales a day, about seven dollars.

Antonio, Crystel, Jody, Elizabeth

Alex showed us a pitaya (Mayan word for the color of the inside of the fruit) also known as dragon fruit. When he opened it with a machete I could see that it was a fruit that had been offered at our breakfast buffet at Hotel Grand Tikal Futura, zona 7, where we stayed for three nights in Guatemala City. Jody and I encouraged Antonio and Crystel to try at least a taste of something new at each meal. The pitaya tasted like a cross between kiwi and pear.

On our hike we met a local Mayan woman who was picking pitayas to sell at the market.Our trip in June of 2012 was very different than our trip in June of 2010 for many reasons. One of them was the fact that we didn’t take any pictures of the Guatemalans that we saw in remote villages. Having Alex, Samuel, and Lee as guides meant that taking photos was possible because with their Spanish we could ask permission. Antonio and Crystel have more than four years in a Spanish dual language school but their grasp of the language was most evident when they were buying boom booms (lollipops) in the tienda (store).

Locals carrying firewood down the canyon

When Alex asked the children if we could take a photo they smiled shyly and shook their head no. Later we met the woman who had been picking pitayas and we learned that the two children gathering wood were hers. After visiting with her, Alex asked if we could take a photo of her and her children. For a few quetzales, she agreed.

Our goal for the canyon hike was to reach the waterfalls. We didn’t make it before Alex called Lee and found that it was time to meet up with him to visit our first NGO (non-government organization). It was odd to me that we were in a third world country yet you could use a cell phone to call someone. Cell phones are inexpensive in Guatemala. You can buy one for less than $20 dollars. This is something I will do on our next trip if only to be able to call within the country.

Later that evening, Zach took Antonio and Crystel back up the canyon to see the falls. The 14-year-old and two nine-year-olds returned breathless, happy, and flushed with energy. The grumbly nine-year-old boy had transformed into an adventurer. And truly, he didn’t grumble the rest of the trip. But then again, on a few occasions in villages we all piled into a tuk tuk to get from point A to B. Funny thing, his Spanish came alive when I told him it was up to him to ask for a tuk tuk and find out where it would pick us up. Ah, kids.

Our first NGO visit, Mayan Medical Aid, opened by Dr. Craig A. Sinkinson, M.D.,  in 2004 serves the 99% native Mayan Indians that make up the population of Santa Cruz. To help subsidize the clinic, he gives private Spanish lessons along with his Guatemalan wife who is also an M.D. Dr. Sinkinson developed a medical Spanish accredited program that also brings in funds. The benefits of the program for medical students are the

Lee Beal and Dr. Craig Sinkinson, M.D.

one-on-one attention, the ability to participate in the clinic, and the immersion experience. Prior to Dr. Sinkinson coming to Santa Cruz, 12 to 15 Guatemalan women died each year in childbirth. Most years they now have 0 deaths. The locals come to the clinic for medical assistance with digestive, reproductive and skin concerns, diabetes, and emphysema.I found the doctor to be very hospitable and knowledgeable with a respect and passion for the Mayans that was similar to Lee’s. One of Dr. Sinkinson’s goals is to teach the Guatemalans working with him to operate the clinic. In this way if something were to happen to him, the clinic would be self-sustaining.

The goods we brought–gloves, vitamins, aspirins. Oh, yes, and suntan lotion. Dr. Sinkinson was happy we left the large blue suitcase on the cardboard box for him to use.

Antonio and Crystel sat patiently while we visited with Dr. Sinkinson. Though Lee and his wife Elaine don’t have children, they have a sense for when it is time to move on. Prior to leaving the clinic, we stuck our head into an office and saw the suitcase we had brought filled with sterile gloves, Centrum, and Ibuprofen for the most part. Alex asked what was in the spray cans. I explained that it was suntan lotion for the clinic. He laughed and pointed to his skin. All I could do was raise my hands and tell him that it was on the list. Funny foreigners.

What are Antonio and Crystel doing and where are their mothers?!? You can see a typical casa in the foreground. Tin roof, chickens, dogs, firewood, dirt yard.

Walking across the village square, Lee said lunch at Sabor Cruzeno Restaurant was next. The restaurant is part of the CECAP Culinary Arts program that trains young people for successful employment in the tourist business. CECAP is supported by Amigos de Santa Cruz foundation of which Lee is on the board.

Local tienda where Antonio and Crystel buy their boom booms. This Mayan is a graduate of the CECAP vocational training center run by Amigos de Santa Cruz

Though not yet totally immersed in village life, the di Grazia family was beginning to place their fingertip on the local culture. We were closer than we had ever been before to the Guatemalan way of life.

If you like my blog writing hit the subscribe button on WordSisters. You will automatically receive my posts every other week. Also, I find Lee Beal’s blog very interesting.  He writes about his meanderings in Guatemala, Lake Atitlan, and the Mayan culture. http://lakeatitlantravelguide.com/blog/