My children would inevitably start school. My control of their safety in heart, mind, body, and spirit, to my fear, minimized the moment I faced the strength to let them go.
All I ever wanted was to be in the confines of my own home. From the moment my first born son was brought into this world, all I cared to do was stay home and “play house”. I followed order from the moment my children woke up to the moment I tucked them into bed. Waking up to my husband and tending to my children was a dream come true I never knew I even had until each awoken day came into reality. And as everything, such shielded peace and happiness had to be tempered once opened to the world.
I was so scared to let my children go to school. They were fine at home with me. I knew the world. I knew it too well. The hurt. The pain. And then, the unspoken moments never discussed at home because you knew nothing more than to just keep going.
I attended six different elementary schools. No. Not because we were military brats. I know now my Papa was aimlessly trying to just find a place to settle in America ever since we set foot as a family here. Easy would be for those whose father was respected and accepted. While a businessman in the Philippines, English not being Papa’s first language, any received respect or acceptance had to be earned, not just given. Some sadly never arrive to gaining either. I witnessed Papa as being one of those some.
School is a place where many discoveries are found. There is so much knowledge and information to attain. That hunger to know and at times, exclaim in knowing something before others could utter- the ultimate feel of exuberant energy victoriously acclaimed before all ears and eyes! That is school. Not just knowing, but showing what you know. And if not the limelight of academic achievements, social, leadership, and physical achievements were yet other forums to stand out and stand high upon. To be acknowledged by others for your jokes, your skills, your abilities beyond the classroom- that merit of excellence or just loving acceptance is important to many if not, all children.
When I look at my students and my children, I see a garden of seeds having just sprouted. I gaze upon each and smile at the potential growth as each pair of eyes look back at me.
I continue to witness, as a mother and teacher, the discovery of one’s truest self is an endless journey- one day after another. Every seed, needing fundamental components to bloom and develop. One’s interaction and engagement with peers, teachers, administrators, and staff can drastically and dramatically change one’s heart, mind, and spirit, stunting growth in each or every part if hindered within development. Quietly, as a parent and teacher, having recollections of my own afflictions and constrictions, my heart cannot help, but worry.
Determined to be of strength and not ever, weakness, I do my part to sow the soil around every seed. Quietly, though, anxiety creeps in and my own memories of hardship lead me to be frightened of unwanted events. That feeling of concern no longer for myself, but for my own children and students I see before me. I am familiar with the storms to come in. And, I begin to ache for each of my children and students. I instantly want to grow like a giant and shield them all, but physically (since I have yet to discover such possibility) I am not able. So, I use what I know in my subject teachings, in my modeling of good, in my words of hardly great wisdom, but in prayer always that something of strength and use has been planted in each of them from me to know how to abstain from the dangers or run from them.
There are those who you witness seemingly having it together. These are the ones who go to school, prim and proper for the most part, following the daily routine of learning with ease. And yet, the smile is missing. The eyes tell me the same trouble, oddly, as the loud, untamed spirit deeply expressed in another student’s eyes. I have seen such look in my own children- such a familiar silence of uncertainty, but with grit, filled with resilience and strength to endure.
I understand both pairs of eyes. Thus, there were years I projected my voice of forewarn to any child of mine or student I feared was going into potential danger. It was as if I could envision the train coming from miles away, feeling the vibration of the tracks, and I senselessly knew no other way, but to use my voice to herd all those with me to just follow my way as the only way.
Uncertainty of what is to be and what is to come is indiscriminate to every child’s soul. Within each child’s spirit, I notice instability of one’s full confidence that the world is theirs to take significant part in. Perhaps you may see your child now and think, “Not mine. Mine has a sure grip of their identity and what they want out of life.” Perhaps you are completely correct. And then, I take a look at my five own children and think, I believed that, too. When I had every moment of their lives within my control, I did.
The silence walks in and you are reminded of those days you sat in silence. You care to ask, but like Bruce Banner trying not to release the Hulk, you are afraid to find out, resurfacing your own repressed memories of words spoken, gestures given, actions taken upon you. Once your children share with you their days, you stand up for them as their shield, thickening their skin from the world evermore in words of advice or at times, actions. Silently, however, you are reminded that they must fight their own fears and prepare for their own wars, one battle at a time as you did. This is how you had made it through, after all. Like David, you continued to do right while dodging at times, a spear, coming your way. You were reminded that you made it through, stronger and better.
Stronger your children will become if they learn to face every day without fear or when in fear, to face them. In faith, you let them out the house again, one day after another. You hide any fear given that your greatest fear of all is, if they see the fear in you, so will they fear, too.
There is no telling of tomorrow. Even a weather forecast can determine chance of precipitation, but not guarantee exactly rain, sleet, or snow to fall. The only power from within is to hope that in chances of precipitation, the children will withstand the coldness, whether drenched or dry, they will live through the experience- smarter and stronger of a learned awareness. They must learn as you did- Days won’t always be sunshine.
You breathe deep. You swallow your reminiscence of the days where the world made you hear, see, feel and thus, experience darkness when all you wanted to keep doing was dance in the light. You tell your children to make their day great. What they may not understand is that deep inside, you are giving them an order of perseverance just in case someone or something tries to get in their way. You pray that they are rigidly obstinate in your absence because that is all you can do when not present to protect them.
As you see them off to school, silent prayers endlessly are given and then, peace is whispered into your heart. There is absolutely nothing you can do, but like a mother eagle, trust to have each you have let go to fly and soar.
As I look at my own students, I am happy to see them through the eyes of a parent, not just a teacher.
Parents come from what they know. Most of the time, with the world having inflicted us all of fear and disappointments, all parents can do is try and prevent their children from enduring the same hardships. How such fears are expressed in words or gestures, children must believe that parents are doing the best they can, the way they know how.
A parent was once a child. They, too, held the innocence of laughter and peace. One day at a time, stones were thrown, hurts given. Some were dodged, but some also landed. Some wounded while some left deep, damaging cuts. While our spirit fights to be fearless, our flesh has taken a few hits and bruises. The armor we build for our own selves is the one we decide to create from the stones coming or have come our way. Every shield may be differently made, but the stones come with the same intent to hurt and take lives.
After five children and countless students, my voice no longer projects fear that I thought for so long I hid so well. Now, while I do not enable much, I understand much, too. I see that innocence must be part of the journey. One must feel the different temperatures and pressures of the air. How else can one truly soar through the skies if kept nested. Rain, hail, sleet, and snow will fall. Storms happen. Lightning happens. However, there is a rainbow to be found. How many rainbows will be missed if held down to never see one?
Birds must fly. Flowers must bloom.
Those rainbows? Down below, rooted in deep soil or up above on that branch, up a mountain peak, the beam of colors look amazing no matter the angle. Rainbows exist. The only way for children to discover and find them is by setting them free.
When in collision, strength rises from fear.
