On Stolen Hearts

Have you seen Moana??? (Warning, there are some spoilers here, so stop reading and watch it - then come back!)

Honestly, even if you don't have kids, it's such a beautiful visual experience and has a sweet story about family traditions and knowing yourself.  And it reminds me of beautiful tropical places, so it's just the right thing for leading into summer!

So, sometimes after the kids get out of the car, I'm still listening to the kids' music.  This morning, it was the Moana soundtrack.

There is a song where Moana faces one of the antagonists in the story and she, for the first time, sees who the antagonist (Te Ka) really is.  Here's what she says:



I have crossed the horizon to find you, 
I know your name 
They have stolen the heart from inside you, 
but this does not define you 
This is not who you are 
You know who you are.

 With Mother's Day fast approaching, I couldn't help seeing that in some ways, Te Ka is just like a mother - or at least just like me as a mother.  Te Ka is explosive and angry and is protective of her space. She feels wronged and pushes people away.

As it turns out, her heart has been stolen.  This crime has led her to become a violent monster.

Moana recognizes Te Ka and who she really is.  She sees past all of the anger and sees that she is a wronged being.

And then she sings her song.

In some ways, our children are born and they steal parts of our hearts.  In some ways, it's that lovely, "Oh, you've stolen my heart and I love you so much," and in other ways, it feels like they've ripped part of us out.

They start by stealing our bodies and changing them in some unexpected ways, then they proceed to steal our free time, our sleep, and our priorities.  As a result, we love them fiercely, but there may be a tiny bud of resentment that blooms as you see your non-parent friends doing things you used to do:  going out to dinner, sleeping all night long, having wide open weekends; all while you stay home and combat your little tyrant(s).

Now, I'm not trying to make our children the villains.  They are the main part of my best memories.  By just being themselves, they change everything.  They can smile or hug or cuddle or say something silly and change the entire mood of a home.  However, raising kids is not easy. Yes, it is full of love and joyful moments, but they are at some cost to us as parents.

At some point, we have to return our hearts to ourselves. That begins with recognizing that part of you that was once there has been lost.  Sure, it has grown in differently to compensate, but it's just not the same.  Second, you have to decide that you want some part of that returned to you and then you have to figure out how to get it back.

Once we see that we deserve to have some of our hearts back, I think that's when we decide to take care of ourselves.  And we realize, as Te Ka experiences, that when those parts are restored, we have more to give: more love, more comfort, more kindness.

I think my most "heartless" times are behind me.  My eyes are open now.  I've steadily been making myself a priority and as a result, what I can return to my children is much more valuable and of much more quality. It's less anger and  more attention. It's less explosion and more patience.

The things that have restored my heart are not things that sound appealing, but once I started, I could see and feel the difference.  My heart-restoring activities mean that I get up earlier to work out.  I sacrifice some of my weekend time to do food prep of healthy foods.  I take the time to meditate or do yoga. I drink water.  I connect with people that matter to me.  These all seem like basic things and they are not all fun, but they help restore me physically and emotionally.  While they sometimes seem like a chore at the time, they become fuel for feeling whole.

While the stealing of your heart is beautiful, the getting it back is also beautiful.

So, what are middle schoolers like anyway?

I teach eighth grade.  It means everything that you think it means.  When I tell people 
what grade level I work with, I get a face, a vocal response or both.  

Eighth graders are everything: children, adults, defiant, kind, moody, real.  They 
can be the best and worst of humanity all within an hour, and it can change from 
hour to hour!

When the walkout protests were publicized on social media, I honestly did not take 
much time to think about it.  I double checked the details so that I would be at least 
aware of when it was so that I could be both supportive to students and whatever 
response they may have to whatever events were or were not organized (by students) 
on our campus and also to be supportive to our staff.  Everyone deserves to feel safe 
on a school campus, and I wanted to be part of that safety.

The walkout was scheduled for my prep.  If I had students during the time of the 
walkout, I was to remain in my classroom.  Since I had a prep during that time, I 
wanted to be available for supervision for student safety.

So, today was the day.  At 10am, I was in my room.  I wanted to walk downstairs to 
figure out where to go to be helpful, but I didn’t hear any students walk out.  Generally, 
ANYWHERE the kids go, you can hear them even if you ask them to be quiet.

When I finally made my way downstairs, I emerged from the hallway to see a few 
teachers also supervising.  The only way I could tell that anything was happening 
was that there were several teachers standing in a line facing the same direction 
and it was silent.

When I rounded the corner to face the same direction as the other teachers, I saw 
HUNDREDS of middle school students standing on the rain-soaked grass.  I nearly 
burst into tears. (I mean, that’s always my reaction when I see a group doing the 
same thing.)

For seventeen minutes, these students stood in the amphitheater listening quietly 
to the names of those students who perished in Florida.  Even those students that 
we worry about because of their behavior or attitudes were standing there not 
causing any problems, just standing in a huddle together.  

When the seventeen minutes were up, they were told by a classmate to return 
quietly to class AND THEY DID.  People, hundreds of sixth, seventh and eighth 
graders walked out of class and returned to class QUIETLY because they had a 
message to send.  

Generally, these folks are accused of being immature, impulsive and of having 
poor judgement.  Today, they showed that they are capable of much much more 
than we ever thought. They can organize, they can be respectful, and they have 
something to say.

I am angry and maybe you should be too.

I am angry.  

A couple of weeks ago, we completed our annual active shooter practice with my 
students.  

Every year, educators have a mandatory training in how to keep our students 
safe in the event that there is a mass shooting on our campus.  Then, we have 
a drill to practice what to do if that were to ever happen.  Students create 
barricades in front of doors. They practice making barricades inside classrooms 
to hide behind. We talk to them about defending themselves if they need to in 
order to save their lives.

Really!?!  I mean, is this really what we’ve been reduced to?  The ONLY way 
we can protect our CHILDREN  is by training them in how to react if someone 
were to come onto campus with a gun!?!

We’ve been doing this for years now, ever since Columbine.  But the thing is, the 
shootings are only increasing.  The likelihood that my current students and my 
own children will be present for an on-campus shooting is only increasing.

And it doesn’t stop there. YOU are in danger too!  Your workplace could be the 
site of a mass shooting.  The grocery store. The movie theater. A peaceful protest.  
Just walking down the street.

Mass shootings in our country are becoming normalized.  We practice for them 
instead of preventing them.

I chose to be a teacher because I had hope for using literacy to make a difference 
in a child’s life.  I never expected that the difference I would make would be helping 
them survive being shot at with a gun or training them in what to do if someone 
opens fire on the cafeteria.

If you have a school-aged child, they are participating in these drills too.  I had to 
talk to my own daughter to make sure she knew what to do if something “bad” 
were to happen on campus - just to check for her own first-grade understanding 
of what to do.  This is ridiculous.

Parents: your children’s lives are in the hands of the teachers and adults on their 
campus because we are unwilling to do ANYTHING to prevent these things from 
happening.

Obviously, these situations arise from complicated factors: access to guns, 
access to health care and mental health care, inability to communicate and or 
cope with one’s feelings, home lives, etc.

BUT I DON’T ACTUALLY CARE.

What I care about is the fact that little, tiny kindergartners have to practice 
leaving their classrooms through windows and hiding in cupboards; that big, 
giant teenagers have to wrestle with the thoughts of what they would do if they 
can’t get to their friends or save them in the event of a shooting; and that I have 
the nagging worry constantly in the back of my mind that every human being in 
my care could possibly be gunned down while trying to get an education.

America: WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE WE DOING!?!

Are you concerned?  Not sure what to do? Here are some SUPER basic suggestions:

• If you have guns, keep them secure.  Lock them up and lock up your ammunition separately.
• Call or write to your Congress
• Call or write to your Senator
• Join an organization that works to protect our children. Consider everytown.org, 
  or momsdemandaction.org