As I sit here battling intestinal flu, I feel low as a snake's belly because my intimate relationship with the Tidy Bowl man fails in comparison to what "Dad, Mom, and Sis," are fighting with in California.I seek refuge in hellofuzzy when I feel like my guts are eating me from the inside out...flu or not.
This may very well be the longest entry yet, but there's something to be learned here. This is the first time I am writing something for either Mr. B or Mrs. B. that isn't a lesson plan.
The reason I didn't venture into the "business" world during college is because I can't have "just work" relationships with the adults who surround me every day. I need them to be my family.
I have to feel connected to those around me. As I made that transition from student to teacher, I found myself searching for people to fill the empty spots in my life. Larry became my boat captain of circus peanuts and bulldogs. Little Debi became my mentor and encourager. Holly became the chef and Jeopardy champion. Janet Russell became the strong, solid role model. Linda Rowe taught me structure and kindness. Mata reminded me how big this world is and how far above it our spirit soars. Leigh Anne taught me the importance of hanging on to hope. Alisa taught me that raising three kids and teaching school can be done and done well, while Lisa did the same with her daughter and son. Bennie and Carolyn should have a movie made about their adventures. Thelma and Louise could learn a thing or two.
And then there was Lynn...Lynn Barnard became my father figure by my choosing. Had he been given an option, I am absolutely sure he would have declined, but he was stuck with me for 17 years. Technically, he chose to keep me around, but I know there were times he would have liked to have put me on a slow bus to anywhere but Tazewell.
Today, Lynn and Janet are weighing heavily on my mind, so I find myself here at hellofuzzy hoping to share a few memories while asking you to call upon your God and ask him to heal the body of the mind belonging to the woman whose dedication to education in Claiborne County will forever reign supreme in my mind as the gold standard until her retirement just a few short years ago.
When I first started teaching, I tried to be very sophisticated and drink coffee. Stupid. I hate coffee. But every day I'd wander up to the cafeteria and get some, and one one particular day, I spilled it all the way down the hallway to my room at the end of the new 8th grade edition. Behind me, Mr. Barnard was swishing a mop back and forth, huffing and puffing, while I just kept slinging coffee and whistling "Dixie." When he reached the end of the hall, he looked at me like he could whack me with his mop, and I just said, "Why, that was so nice of you." He was not happy, and I was plum tickled. I haven't consumed coffee since.
Did I make him mad? Oh, yes, I made him mad. There's a little community organization called Junior Pro Basketball that you may have heard of. Junior Pro is a wonderful weekend activity for young people to play basketball, but each school used as a facility must have school employees present to open up, turn on the lights, provide equipment, etc. Junior Pro was also played in the most freezing time of winter. Well, a colleague of mine (who will remain nameless) and I completed our requirements on FRIGID Saturday morning and locked up the building. We returned to our homes and graded papers, averaged scores, and such until Monday. But oh, when Monday came!
Monday came to find Mr. Barnard's full head blood red, and I stood my distance for fear that blood would shoot out his ears. Apparently, my co-hort and I had allowed an innocent dog to wander through the front door, past the concession stand, and into the gym locker rooms where, sadly, the dog froze to death. I can raise my hand to Santa Claus and swear I never saw a dog come in the building. Well, not a four legged one anyway. Mr. Barnard was beside himself with confusion and desperate for an explanation. My co-hort nor I could offer him any peace of mind or explanation as to how the pup got in the building much less froze. The drama of the scene escalated to quite a heated exchange, but the dog never thawed out. After discovering a hole under the building, Mr. Barnard and Dick Fugate deciphered that the dog had dug in but couldn't dig out. The dog was laid properly to rest, but that story stands in my mind eternally as one of my favorites.
I have made more than my share of mistakes in my career as an educator, but he always gave me time to acknowledge them before he (sometimes loudly) corrected them. Did we always agree ? Nope. Did we sull up and pout? For record periods of time. Did I always know he'd be there to help me? Yes.
I read about family members bringing up deaths of loved ones, and I cringe. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with telling the story of my loss of the love of my life. However, despite your experience with Lynn Barnard as your teacher, coach, or principal, here's something I think you should know because I do believe it speaks volumes of his core.
May 5, 2009. That's the date. Mr. Barnard let me leave school to come home and see why my husband wasn't answering the phone, and in the living room floor, I found my husband, and I knew why. I remember calling the police, and I remember calling SMMS in a blood curdling scream for Lynn to come help me. He and Debi Brogan beat law enforcement here. My own dad had been gone for 8 years. Daughters call their dads when they're in trouble. Lynn was all I had left. He burst through my kitchen door and took over. He handled it like a professional in a manner I hope I never have to see again. And when the time came for my husband to leave this house, Mr. Barnard asked the paramedics to please not cover my husband's face. Then, as they moved him out the door and down the driveway, Mr. Barnard held H's hand until they loaded him on the ambulance. That defined their friendship but in a way for which there are no words. How do you thank someone for treating your lost loved one with dignity simply by carrying him down the driveway?
Memories aside...today...tomorrow...and in the weeks that come...."Mom, Sis, and Dad" are in California seeking the best medical care for "Mom." There is a You Tube video available for you to watch if you'd like a further explanation
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4NJTNLq3xw
Lynn had to tolerate the majority of my madness from day to day, and I'm thankful he never locked me in the furnace room when my lunacy got to be too much. In a sense, he taught me a lot about family. We'd fuss. We'd make up. We'd fuss again. We'd pout longer. He'd holler. I'd holler louder (never in front of kids). He was always right. I was always right, too. Many relationships with dads could be described the same way.
But if you have finished reading this, and you live in Claiborne County, please say a prayer of thanks for Dr. Janet Barnard's home run she hit during the surgery today. Based on what I've read, she has done very well.
If you were a toddler with a book in your hand in pre-school, a first grader learning how to read with the absolute best materials in elementary school, or a middle school student with access to the best technology available to help you learn to read even better before 2009, then you might want to remember Janet Barnard in the days and weeks ahead as she heals. In my opinion, she was the leading force who brought literacy to this county with an army of support troops behind her.
Dolly Parton might be the the engineer for Imagination Library, but Janet Barnard has been feeding the imaginations of Claiborne County's children for decades, and it's time to use that literacy to summons up prayer for quite possibly one of the most dedicated educators any of us will ever meet in our life time.
Romans 12:7 “If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well.” (NLT)
God knows I have ample cause to plea for forgiveness for my own sins, but today, I sincerely hope he hears my prayer of healing for Danielle's momma.
