Good-bye to a Good Man

It's been raining buckets tonight, a rather unusual event here in the semi-arid climate of Colorado. It doesn't seem to be slowing down either. Fitting, I guess, as one of the best priests I have known is dying.

Monsignor Leo Horrigan was pastor at our parish, Notre Dame, for a long time. In fact, we joined Notre Dame right after we married because we really enjoyed his homilies as well as the environment of the church. He was the rock of Notre Dame.

Monsignor Horrigan had a beautiful deep voice. Listening to him speak was a moving experience. Moreover, his homilies always seemed to be what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it. He knew how to balance his messages--time, length, connections to scripture, connections to our lives. I find it difficult to find meaning in many homilies, especially those that provide us CliffNotes of the Bible passages we've just read. Monsignor knew how to connect with his parishioners.

After our son was born, we wanted Monsignor to baptize him, but because Notre Dame--and Monsignor--were viewed as 'training ground' for newer priests, we weren't able to have him preside at our son's baptism. He was the presider, though, for our son's Holy Communion, and I treasure the picture I have of Monsignor giving the Host to our little boy.

When our son attended school there, Monsignor was present for school functions. He delighted in children, and his face showed it. He was all-smiles, whether it was conferences, field day, Mass day. It seemed like children gave him energy and joy.

Notre Dame felt like a second home to me, because of Monsignor Horrigan. His retirement was wonderful and well-deserved for him, but I cried all the way home. I was sorry to lose him. In the seven years since his retirement, Notre Dame changed in negative ways. So much so, we finally left and found another parish.

Monsignor Horrigan was everything a priest should be: humble, kind, compassionate, loving. He will be missed.

Teacher*Wife*Mother*Daughter: Teachers have nightmares

Teacher*Wife*Mother*Daughter: Teachers have nightmares: I was on a hike the other day with a friend, a retired teacher, who asked me if my nightmares had begun yet. See, I have nightmares several ...

Teachers have nightmares

I was on a hike the other day with a friend, a retired teacher, who asked me if my nightmares had begun yet. See, I have nightmares several nights a week before school starts again.

They're often typical control-issue nightmares, like I can't manage my class. No matter what  I do, student behavior is out of control. This is unlikely to happen in real life, but I have experienced some rough groups of kids, and the thought of not being able to control a class worries me.

Other nightmares involve me being at my school but it's not my school--but it is. I can't find my classroom. Seeing as how I've  been in the same classroom for 13 years, it's a silly nightmare. However, the stress I feel while dreaming it is real.

The worst nightmares involve school shootings. While I can't speak for my colleagues, I can unequivocally state that the numerous school shootings we've had in this country has profoundly affected me. When I was 13, my friend was shot and killed on our junior high's campus. I was there. I still feel anxious when Flight for Life flies over. Then there was the Jonesboro, AR shooting, where those boys pulled the fire alarm and executed students and a teacher as they left the building. Next was Columbine. I'm a Columbine graduate and I work about 4.5 miles from there; I still get panic attacks when the shooting comes up. I can't even walk in the building; I cry and panic. Then there was Bailey, a few miles away from my school. And then there was another shooting at my junior high just a few years ago. And I'll never forget the Arapahoe  HS shooting where the young man was headed into the building to kill his debate teacher; instead, he killed an innocent young woman and himself.

Needless to say, I worry about angering a student to the point where he wants to kill me. Therefore,  I dream about being hunted through the school halls. I dream about school shootings. I worry this will be the year someone will shoot up our school.

I'm not sure how to work with my mind to alleviate this stress. But I do know that I will have nightmares from now until school begins.

Overloaded

School has ended, and I'm now on summer break. "Must be nice to have summers off" teachers often hear from non-teachers. I personally never quite know how to respond. If I say, "Yes, it is," I might sound defensive. If I say, "Well, I earned it," that sounds like bragging. But the reality is this: the general public thinks KIDS should have summers off, but they don't seem to feel adults should as well.

It IS nice to have put aside enough money to rest for a couple of months. There's a misconception that teachers are paid for their time off. Not true. Our ten-month paychecks are divided over twelve months. I have earned that money. Teaching takes a toll on bodies and minds it's hard to articulate what it's like to teach for a year.. I love my work and my students, but I need a break. Imagine if more Americans were given the opportunity to take one to two months off from work, what would their productivity be like?

I understand that my colleagues  work second and/or third jobs for 'extra money,' especially during the summer. I think it's a shame, but having done it myself, I know it's necessary because everything is expensive and our salaries don't always provide for necessities.

I love my students and my work. I love watching their faces glow with knowledge when they realize something or dance when they ace an essay. I love working with them to help them understand a concept or a novel. I appreciate their confidence in me for their letters of recommendation or simply to just talk about their anxieties, goals, happiness...whatever. When I try to sleep at night, they intrude into my thoughts. I worry about their grades, their home lives, them. They are on my mind when it's the weekend. They are on my mind over our short breaks throughout the year.

Teaching youth is an amazing profession. Not everyone can do it or should do it. Teachers have the capacity to lift up or destroy a child. It's an awesome responsibility. But it takes a toll. There is a level of exhaustion teachers have at the end of the year that is difficult to describe. Even the hairs on my head are tired.

So when people say in their snarky way, "Must be nice to have summers off," my response is now, "Yes, it is." And smile.