When I looked outside my classroom window this morning, I smiled. It was going to be a sunny day, which was what I needed to do my "Greenhou$e E##ect" experiment.
After a failed trial run in 2nd period, I made some adjustment to the placement of the thermometers during third. And yes, I dragged them out there to help me.
But a couple of the boys were oddly distracted and noticed, as they grotesquely spit into the little ditch that fills up in the winter, that there were squiggly things in the water that swam out from their hiding places when the surface tension was broken.
"Eeew gross!! Look at all of them!"
"Yes, yes they're larvae. Have you brought your lab book for the experiment over here?"
"No, but LOOK! What KIND of larvae?"
I peered into the ditch.
"Looks like mosquito lavae to me. Now come over here we need to take these temperatures"
This went on a few minutes longer and so I thought, ok, let's get the little buggers out of the ditch and take a look. Sure this was E@rth Sc!ence and not B!ology, but they were curious, right? (And getting high school boys to be interested in science is often a challenge normally)
Upon examination of the specimen, we concluded that there were several larval beings present, mainly the mosquito. Of course this launched into a discussion on We$t N!le virus and other things these insects can spread to humans. They were all fired up over it. I went and got the principal and had them voice their concerns to her. (She loved this of course *kids being engaged in school and all*) and suggested the class draft and sign a letter to the superintendent, asking for something to be done.
They got so into it, and all signed their names so readily to the piece of paper.
In my previous posts, I talked about how I have learned so much from losing Jessica and it seemed like people often equated this with either "she died for a reason" or "I needed to learn a lesson". Neither of these was ever what I meant, but could not find the right words.
Today it got me thinking about this again. The outcome in today's class was not planned, not in the lesson, not even on topic or in the right subject. But there were definitely teachable moments in there and the kids learned something. It would have been foolish to ignore their natural curiosity and desire to learn something science related. It would have been foolish not to take advantage of those very clear "teachable moments".
And so I have to say that Jessica's death was unplanned, unexpected and not even in the same realm of anything that I had anticipated, but I definitely learned many things from that single event in time.
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9 comments:
being flexible enough to take on new information and actually apply it...isn't that what it is to live? evaluate and revise. it's one of the biggest gems i gained from higher education.
i can not, will not, try to stuff new information into old beliefs until it fits. i may as well stagnate in a festering pool of mosquito larvae. and what i've learned from my baby dying...is alot.
i think people say there was a reason for these deaths because they can't bear to live in a universe so random or unpredictable. EVERYTHING has a reason, explained in retrospect. tie a nice bow around it, and voila! no more chaos. it's nice, and tempting, but i just can't do it. you say teachable moments, i say watch out...they'll say the larvae were there for a reason...
Having understanding complete enough to flexibly deviate from the lesson plan is a sign of a great teacher. Unfortunately, as
I would never say that we should neglect things we come to understand in the wake of our children's deaths. I would never say we should neglect things we come to understand as a result of any of life events, in fact. But like Charmed says, the people who drive me nuts are the ones who invert everything into a because, into a reason-- the larvae were there so you could engage the kids, our babies died so we could learn a great big cosmic lesson.
Through all the heartache and pain, I can definitely see that my son's death taught me things. I am sure I will continue to discover these things as time goes on.
And ewww, can I sign the petition too, that thing is groddy.
There are always opprtunities to learn. That's what makes life interesting I guess. What's that saying, those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it...I don't think that applies to us here in dead baby land, but I do think, that by trying to walk through this nightmare with some semblance of grace, some bit of our hearts not shattered and create a life that is one we can actually live and not just endure, means that we are learning about ourselves and what we are capable of in spite of horrific tragedy.
I also think anyone who says that because of that, because of our efforts to trudge on, our babies died for some bigger "reason", is just plain stupid. Charmer is right,they can't bear to live in a world that is unpredictable and unexplainable. As I once wrote, if their God is handing out dead babies as life lessons, I have two words..."Check, please".
Like so many of us believe, there is no explanation for my son's death; no go.dly reason behind why he can't be here with us. But, faced with these awful, heartbreaking circumstances, I have come to learn much about life, how precarious it is, what little control we have, and what is important to me.
I don't feel I've had any growth from my experience.
First, you are a wonderful teacher.
I always like to say we "make meaning" out of our experiences rather than say we learn from them. Somehow the latter seems to imply the lesson was intrinsic in the experience and therefore intended. For me, to make meaning is to say that experiences happen in this natural, free world (which is what I believe God created), and our task is to find a way to allow our experiences to shape us in such a way that we ultimately grow- rather than to allow them to break us and leave us bitter.
To acknowledge the blessings that might grow out of loss is not the same as blessing the loss itself.
At least... that is how it is for me. But, for anyone whose loss is more recent and finds these words a bitter pill to swallow, remember that I have had over 4 years to arrive at this place. This wasn't always true for me. It took time.
I've learned a number of very important lessons from the twins' deaths. First and foremost: that I can't count on anyone except myself. It's a lesson I'd rather not have learned, but better that I recognize the truth than continue to deceive myself.
Sadly, my lessons thus far sound like Niobe's: my IL's are a hollow farce of a family. That and it's really much harder to get baby weight off in your late 30s as opposed to your early 30s. And blindness doesn't show up on amnio. But hey! I've learned *something,* no? I think like Julia said, these things didn't happen for a reason, but it's up to us if we're going to get something from it, no matter how f'd up or insignificant. And you're a wonderful teacher to find the lessons in the insignificant, and clearly if your kids are remotely curious in looking into puddles and verbalizing what they're looking at, you're doing something very very right.
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