Gail's Blog

Throughout her early years, Alix adored animals. Really, to say she adored animals is being too cute about it. She empathized, and identified with animals. She believed individual animals were her personal friends. Our next door neighbor had a yellow cat named Mandy. Or, rather, Alix called the cat Mandy. I'm not sure we actually knew what the cat's name was. Alix greeted Mandy when she came home from kindergarten, and sat on the front stoop with Mandy in the clean, clear Spring air. Alix called Mandy her "friend cat". When Mandy disappeared, Alix looked for her, and hoped for when she came back, which she did. Mandy was a friend in the friend constellation that my younger daughter always maintained. A preschool student's mother gave us a rabbit in my first year of teaching. Alix was five. This started our family's rabbit adventure. The rabbit, Cinnamon Pie, became another friend in the constellation. Soon there were too many friend rabbits to mention here!

Today was my first day as acting director of our Preschool, a school in which I've taught, laughed, scolded, danced, sang and generally made a fool of myself in the name of nurturing learning in young children for twenty years. I did not seek this sobriquette. I was drafted! So far: Our director has had troubles enough that Job should stop belly-aching, and she has not been able to do her job. The school was looking for a new director for when our director finished her contract at the end of July, but since she hasn't been around, the staff pushed for help immediately. Since I have been looking for better pay, they decided to ask the church to draft me for the dubious honor. The church said yes. I went in this morning to find other teachers rushing me away from the office because our former director had come in. She was furiously deleting her files from the computer. No one wanted me to be a target of her wrath, which I found profoundly touching. So I went into teacher mode an

We live in a very diverse area of Virginia. Some people believe that Northern Virginia should secede from the rest of the state because our values are so different. We don't hold that it should be okay to let people into bars with guns (just so they don't drink, wink wink!). We don't believe in limiting the rights of immigrants, homosexuals, or people without health care. (or at least most of us don't) And we regularly rub elbows with people from all over the world. I stopped in at a Starbucks in an area we call Bailey's Crossroads. Someone else can tell you who Bailey was, I'm sure, but I know it as the area to which we took our daughters when they were little for shopping and dining. There are several ethnic restaurants and food stores there. I was on my way to the Greek store, Aphrodite Greek Imports, to be exact, to pick up my Easter supplies. I walked into this Starbucks and immediately felt like I was in an African coffee shop, if African coffee shops are

After six months in rehab, Kristin is coming to our house for dinner tomorrow, spending the night and going with me to the nine o'clock Sunday morning. It is a kind of raw time for us. The rest of the family hasn't even seen her clean and sober for years. I have since I visited her in jail, and then in rehab. I hope they see the change in her that I see, and that was celebrated at her transition ceremony at the center. I like the Kristin I see, now. She's the same person, and yet she is so much more self-aware and focused. She knows the possible pitfalls, and her "triggers". She knows to depend on her sponsor, her counselor, her re-hab friends. She knows not to resume friendships with the people she did drugs with. She knows to keep her mother at arm's length. And she knows it won't be easy. That is very new for Kristin. It won't be easy, and she knows it. I am in awe of the work she's done, and the way she's grown. I'm impressed with the p

Along the two miles of boardwalk along the Atlantic Ocean in Spring Lake, N.J. are visible reminders of the power of government work projects in hard times. The WPA put artists to work as well as construction workers. This tile is one of several still lining the brick walls along the boardwalk near the snack pavillions in Spring Lake, which were carved by artists employed by the Works Projects Administration. The tiles represent the style of the time, simple, strong and direct. It reflects the spirit of the people who worked for WPA. WPA was initiated by Franklyn Delano Roosevelt to put jobless Americans back to work, and its scope was far greater than anything we've seen since. The Federal Theatre Project put playwrites, actors, directors and stagehands back to work. The photographers employed by the WPA fanned out across the nation to document the lives of our people in their struggles and strengths. Dorothea Lange and Walker Evans were just two of the photographers who allowed t

Once upon a time, our preschool hosted a Thanksgiving Feast, with preschoolers dressed in paper bag Indian vests, and construction paper Pilgrim hats. We ate turkey, dressing, and the rest, most of which went uneaten by the children. So the annual event became a "Pow wow". The children attend in their Thanksgiving regalia, but carry non-perishable food for a "campfire", food to go to a food bank right afterwards. This is a nice change because rather than cook and serve leftovers to the homeless, which is admirable but messy, we send food to a food bank for use after the Thanksgiving food coffers are emptied. Over the years the pilgrims have disappeared! Pilgrim costumes are a pain in the neck to make, and Indian head-dresses and beads are easy, so teachers, ever looking for ways to cut after-hours labor, went all-Indian. Then one year, a class came as turkeys! They have been coming that way ever since. This totally blew my literal mind. I kept thinking that dinner w

She made it into rehab. The program is funded by Fairfax County, and, with luck, will survive budget cuts. It is an effective drug and alcohol rehabiliation program for those who are motivated to do the work. And she is motivated. She talks about her last chance. She says she doesn't want to be on the streets again. She dissects her own motivations, feelings, responsibilities and mistakes with the precision of a surgeon. So far she's lost and gained friends, gained and lost privileges, and worked very hard. She's never worked as hard. She honors me by making me a "screened" visitor, and recently, by asking me to come to family group. Visiting recently, I sat with her outside and heard all that she'd been going through, and suddenly she brightened and asked me what I was doing. She listened like a mature young woman. We laughed! People passed. She waved them over to introduce me to them. "This is my Godmother" she said. I liked the sound of that. I