Change Is Hard

Overwhelmed by the horrific news out of Virginia on Monday I lost track of something good that happened that day.

During the past few weeks I’ve been volunteering with a group of Detroit teenagers who are gathering information about their neighborhood and designing a website that will be used as a resource for other teenagers.  They are interviewing organizations that hire or use teenage volunteers, they are taking pictures of their neighborhood and they are putting all of that into their website.

Monday afternoon they presented some of their work at a talk and dinner in the school of education on UM’s campus.  Some of their photographs, along with their writings were blown up and matted.  They were hung on a wall in the school of education, complete with spotlights.  They looked like art.  They WERE art. 

You should have seen the students’ faces light up when they arrived and saw their work being displayed so beautifully.  The work glowed.  The students glowed.  Each student spoke about their work to a large group of educators and graduate students.  They did so well.  They are right to be proud.

I know that seeing their work validated by a group of adults in a place like the University of Michigan will have a positive affect on them.  I was happy to be even so slightly involved. 

My morning bus commute into campus was silent today.  There was not a word spoken by anyone on the bus for the entire thirty minute trip.  As we picked people up and dropped people off the air was thick with unspoken words.  I wondered if it was because today is the last day of classes and finals loom.  Or whether it was because we were all picturing Virginia Tech, putting ourselves in those students’ places.  Thinking that yesterday morning they were alive and anticipating the end of their school year, just like we are.  That they had no idea how the day would end.

I think about the families.  How difficult it is to cope with the sudden, sensless and violent death of someone you love.  How most of them probably still don’t understand what happened.  How they don’t even believe yet.  How the truth will hurt.  How the truth will hurt forever.  That death is forever.  That no matter what they do now, how hard they try to change the facts, the truth is still the truth.  And the hurt is never ending. 

So I believe that the silence on my bus this morning, the contemplative faces, the downcast eyes were in response to yesterday’s events.  That we are forced to recognize yet again that no place is safe.  That universities are not immune to violence.  That the “ivory tower” we live in is nothing but smoke and mirrors. 

Today I believe that students everywhere are hurting for those at Virginia Tech.  

And realizing that they are us.

I have my last class Tuesday.  It’s a big presentation, that basically is 100% of our grade since we’ve received no other grades in this class so far this semester.  My project partner and I spent eight hours today working on the paper and our powerpoint slides for the presentation.  We aren’t done yet, I am very tired.  But it’s going to be good!

I am worried about the foundation classes final exams, one of which is this Friday, the other the following week, but what can I do.  I’ll try to be as ready as I can be.  I know I won’t fail the classes, so I guess that’s all that counts.  

I finished my internship project and will drop it off tomorrow on my way to the presentation being done by the Detroit teenagers I work with every other week. 

 So much is being finished, so much still to do.  I’m looking forward to May! 

We’ve had the new puppy almost two weeks.  I’m sure for her that seems like forever.  It’s been a time of new sights, new sounds, new rules for her, and new sounds, new smells and less sleep for us.  But she is SO CUTE!

So far she has learned to sit on command, even without the temptation of food, to walk on a leash (as long as we are going the same direction as she meant to go anyway!) and sometimes pee outside instead of inside.  She has learned that there is not another puppy in the reflective wastebasket, or the sliding glass door at night.  She has learned that the mailbox is not a really big scary bad person, and that riding in the car is sort of fun, even if it is only to the vet for more shots.

Today she got her first experience with a little boy playing with her while we were at the vet.  And she met her first big dog there as well.  Tonight she had her first glimpse of deer in the back yard.  She barked a bit tentatively, but frequently, until I finally turned around to ask her what was up, and saw what she saw; three deer right where she and I had just been moments before.  I’m sure they looked like really big dogs to her, and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to draw attention to herself, yet…there was that sheltie responsibility inbred into her to protect her territory!

So everyday is a new experience for her…and for us.  She’s a cutie, a terror, a mischievous, laughing, chewing bundle of energy.  Did I mention she’s cute?  She’s especially cute when she’s asleep!  We are lucky to have her.  She is very lucky to have us!

This is the last week of classes.  In fact tonight I will be finished with one of my four classes.  Next Tuesday I have an important presentation, and then that class will be finished as well.  Then it’s a matter of completing and turning in the internship report (currently at 35 pages plus many appendixes!) and studying for the two final exams.  By the end of April I will be free!

It’s snowing again today.  I remember, years ago, as a kid living on a lake, that I used to swim in the middle of April, just to say I did.  I don’t know if the weather is colder now or I am older now.  Or both.  But the thought of swimming in a lake right now seems pretty crazy.  Maybe it was crazy then too, but when you’re 15 nothing is really too crazy.  When you’re 50, well…a lot of stuff seems a bit crazy!

How can this be the end of the semester already?  Wasn’t it just yesterday I was standing in below zero temps waiting for a bus and looking ahead at weeks and weeks of work still to come? 

How can this be that there are only two lectures of each class left?  Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was trying to figure out the difference between 502 and 503?  OK.  So I still haven’t quite got that one down, but still, wasn’t it just yesterday?

How can this be that there are only two weeks of class left, when it’s clear that I have at least four weeks of work left on several of my assignments?

 How can this be that this semester is almost over, that this YEAR is almost over?  Wasn’t it just yesterday that I decided I wanted to work in a library?  Wasn’t it?  Yesterday, right?  When I followed my heart?

How can this be?

We purchased a puppy yesterday morning.  The breeder named her Izzy, and we’re deciding if that’s the name she will keep.  She is a bundle of energy.  I am exhausted and tempted to sleep when she sleeps, but am trying to keep up with school work during those few moments when she sleeps.

She is 3.5 mos old, a sheltie, and already a beauty.  She is so happy!  She should be.  The last two shelties to live here were spoiled rotten!

She has fallen asleep, hopefully for the night so I think I’ll get some sleep too.  Tomorrow will be a busy day!

Driving into Ann Arbor this morning, merging onto US 23 South the radio began to play Luther Vandross’ “Dance With My Father Again” which always makes me cry. That got me thinking about whether or not, If I could, I’d bring Dad back for that one last dance.

I decided I wouldn’t, because having to say goodbye forever again would be too hard.

Which led me to thoughts about whether or not, if I could, I’d bring him back for good.

But I remembered how sad he was without Mom. And how lost. I think their relationship with each other superceded their relationship with us. It existed before us, it existed when we were growing up, it existed after we moved out. It still exists now, after us. They belong to each other, they belong together.

As I was coming to that conclusion, finding comfort that they are still together, the radio began to play Sarah McLachlan’s “In the Arms of the Angles”. And then two sandhill cranes flew across the freeway just ahead of me, flying close to each other, low across the road. Together. “In the arms of the angles, fly away from here… In the arms of the angles may you find some comfort here.”

I do.

We get to register for next semester this week.  It seems early to be figuring out what will be the next to last semester for me.  I still have three weeks of school left, then some final exams.  THREE WEEKS?  ONY THREE WEEKS?  I have way too much to do as usual for projects.  Specifically my evaluations project where we are still collecting data for analysis and haven’t even started analyzing it!!  And of course the internship.  Which I should be working on right now instead of writing this. 

But I am not working on any of it.  I think I will just let it flow however it is going to flow.  Of course it will flow down the tube if I just sit here every night! 🙂 

TIme for sleep.  It will all work out. 

Today on my way to a lecture I noticed two squirrels running around, one chasing the other. The first squirrel was using a classic strategy, running in a zig zag pattern, trying to illude the following squirrel, who was racing right on the tail of the first. As I walked toward these two frisky animals another student was approaching them from the other direction. Suddenly the leading squirrel dashed across the sidewalk, right into the path of the student who was walking along listening to his headset, oblivious to frolicking squirrels.

The first squirrel mannaged to avoid the feet of the student. The second squirrel ran head first into the student’s ankle, bounced off, landed in front of the student and just sat there staring. The startled student actually took his ear piece out, stopped, and stared back at the squirrel. For a moment we were all suspended in time. Then the student started laughing (a reaction I was pleased to see) and the squirrel wandered away to the edge of the sidewalk to contemplate his close brush with disaster. Squirrel number one sat triumphant in a tree, winner for the day.
Moral of the story. If you are the squirrel following your competitors tail too closely you are likely to get stomped.