Stop Bullying!!

When I visit schools one of the topics that invariably comes up is bullying. It comes up in ways that seem surprising to some of the adults in attendance. 

Bullying has been brought up in HIV/AIDS presentations, classes focusing on poverty, homelessness and presentations on strategic planning. 

Kids will share they feel bullied into having sex, bullied into taking part in activities that can get them involved with law enforcement. Kids will share they are bullied into sharing their school work, their money and even their clothing. 

Though I may not be visiting to focus on bullying I take advantage of the questions in order to help them realize they deserve better and that they have resources ready to assist them. Given the opportunity I share some of the following with students interested in curbing what goes on in their lives.

The following is an excerpt from a book I wrote entitled "Trust Kids" which promotes honoring young people, by listening and incorporating their ideas into viable solutions

(Geoff’s story)

“Three of us oversaw an after school program funded by the school district. Me, Jim and Nancy, all volunteers. Jim and Nancy were teachers. 

I ran a small boat charter, whale watch service. 

We involved kids aged 12-16 in outdoor projects focusing on the bounty of our shoreline. We had our company tour boat that we could use to cruise close to shore or to scoot out to one of the islands for different marine projects. Usually 18-20 kids showed up four times a week after school. A few more than that would join us on Saturday when we would cap the day with a meal cooked over the fire pit.

Things were running pretty good until we received a complaint from one girl’s mom that her daughter had been bullied. I’d been working with kids long enough to realize that when girls bullied each other it was much harder to recognize, and stem, then when boys would pick on a kid. We tried to watch the kids closely after the mom’s complaint but I couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary.

The mom complained again saying she would take it to the school council if we didn’t do something about it. We didn’t know what “it” was and the mom wouldn’t allow us to talk directly to her daughter about it.  Not knowing exactly what to do we tossed it to the kids to see what they might think.

In the past we had done some readings together as a group. We had looked at various survival books with accompanying stories of survival. On afternoons that kept us indoors we would occasionally watch some of the TV survival programs to give the kids some entertainment and some education. What I had in mind was to set up the bullying issue within our group and see what the kids said. Maybe they could come up with something to read together that would give us some base line from which we could tackle the problem.

That is what we did. We pulled all the kids together one Saturday morning in our community center room, where we kept our stuff and had snacks, when the weather was inhospitable. I told them there was a terrible case of bullying going on in a school outside of Seattle. It got so bad one kid attacked another with a knife. I shared that bullying seemed to be part of growing up that we all wanted to forget, particularly if we were on the receiving end. I asked an open question to see if any of them felt like they had ever been bullied. I was shocked to see how many hands went up.

Nancy told a story of how she had been bullied at her middle school to such a level she begged her parents to change schools. She shared that she never told the school principal who was behind it. It stopped when the ringleader started to pick on another girl. She said most of the verbal attacks went on in the bathroom or at recess when teachers could not see what was going on. She said she was embarrassed that she never spoke up but understands why people are reluctant to speak up. She remembers what it was like to be afraid.
A number of kids told their stories. A fair amount of them were boys, which surprised a number of the kids, particularly the girls.
Geoff, aged 15, said he was with a group of kids back in Minnesota who used “kids in justice” which was the name given to a group of kids, randomly selected, that handed out “justice” to group members who had trespassed in various ways. He explained that one of his teachers had all the kids read, “Touching Spirit Bear” that dealt with a kid who was a very aggressive bully and thug. When he mentioned the book a number of the kids shouted out they had read it and how much they loved it. We kicked the theme around for a little while deciding we would all read the book as a group. Geoff said it had a lot of survival type info as well as the story of how this kid is dealt with by the community. I volunteered to go to the bookstore and get us enough copies to read. I said I would go while they were having lunch.

Geoff went on to explain that their justice group was based on tribal law, he forgot which tribe, in Canada that used a sacred rite of justice to correct or punish a member of the tribe who had broken their laws or offended another member of the tribe. He said the kids were all given a playing card, which they would write their name on with a marking pen. The cards were then put in the center of the group, shuffled, with four to six cards being drawn by someone who had no affiliation with the group. That would be easy as there were a number of people in the center who could do a drawing. I said I would get the cards during lunch if the kids wanted to go forward. We took a vote. One hundred percent raised their hands.

The bookstore only had five copies of  “Touching Spirit Bear” so I put in an order for twenty more. The clerk said they would arrive on Wednesday, which was good enough. I bought two sets of playing cards and an assortment of markers.

When I got back to the group they were all excited about the book and setting up some sort of peer justice league to deal with problems we had obviously missed. It was a little embarrassing to realize the kids were having issues none of us knew anything about. When we assembled I asked if we needed any leader to oversee the justice group? Most of the kids pointed to Geoff who agreed to be the “consultant.” We wrapped the day with a meal of halibut and salmon cooked on the grill. Kids tossed on spuds, onions and peppers to round out the feast.

On Wednesday morning I picked up the books. When the kids arrived after school the numbers of attendees had swelled by eleven new members. Geoff told us these kids were drawn to the group by the lively conversation at school about our group, our outdoor activities and how we were going to deal with challenges like bullying.

I passed out the books with a promise to buy ten more. We agreed to read the first two chapters by tomorrow. I allowed Geoff to form the circle, oversee the name writing on the cards, shuffle them and the invitation to one of the center’s staff to pull six cards. Once the cards were drawn Geoff read out the names asking them to step out of the circle. He explained that they were the judges but that they were not supreme. They had to further pick from the remaining cards “Advisors” who would counsel each judge on their decisions. The judges would then have to agree on any final outcome. The “advisors” could negotiate with the other judges “advisors” to try to convince that judge of a particular action. Geoff impressed on the kids that they were all in and all valuable. There was a lot of excitement and we broke feeling we could take on anything.

Geoff stuck around to talk with us about how to bring up the bullying issue. He was more diplomatic than we were, as we wanted to dump it on the table, say it was forbidden and blah blah blah if we saw or heard anything about anyone being bullied. He wanted to bring it up as a topic of conversation allowing the group to define bullying and any punishment for it.

At out next meeting Geoff ran the show. He introduced the subject drawing on the character in the book. (Most of the kids were half way through the book so we agreed we’d finish it by Saturday). He asked kids to define bullying making notes on the butcher paper he had hung up on the wall. The kids were very enthusiastic and out spoken about what they wanted to happen to anyone who bullied. They were more draconian than we would have been insisting any kid who bullies should be put out of the group, reported to the school and the police. Believe it or not just about every kid agreed to those terms. There were lesser punishments for wise remarks, swearing, rough housing etc. Some of them were quite funny involving carrying around dead fish in a burlap bag for an afternoon, cleaning the dishes in the Sound, wearing clothing backwards and being ignored by everyone for a day. The silent treatment! Geoff added one new idea just as the kids were going to break up. He had all but the judges toss their cards back in the pile. He asked Nancy to draw two cards, until they were all gone, putting them in separate stacks. He explained that these couples would look out for each other no matter what. They were more than partners – they were bound to protect and support each other. The kids loved it. Not one of them seemed disappointed by the pairings. Some boys were with a girl partner; some older kids were with a younger kid. Did not seem to matter, they all embraced it-

The book was a great success. 

We had great group activities around the characters, the relationships and the actions of each character and how we might learn from what they did in the story. Every kid played a role in the conversation. Every kid seemed to grow in confidence from meeting to meeting. Geoff didn’t have to do too much with the judges because very little needed to be judged. There were the occasional out bursts and shoving matches that resulted in a kid carrying around a bag of fish for an afternoon or doing the dishes in freezing cold water. All in all things were great.

Thanks to Geoff speaking up, and stepping up, I think we have found a way for kids to deal with most issues that they want dealt with in a fair way by their peers. For us Geoff has made our “job” much easier.”

For more information, or to reach us, email us at Letkidsbekids@mac.com

Ralph

Ralph

Ralph isn’t his real name.
I was recently watching the “Honeymooners” seeing some similarities between Ralph Kramden and my friend.
“My” Ralph had the same kind of gruff exterior that was so transparent to “Honeymooner’s” fans.
Ralph had a great job at Amazon in the IT Department. He had been around long enough to make wise decisions with stock purchases gaining him total financial freedom should he step away from his job.
For whatever reasons he stayed at Amazon using his accumulated sick days rather than walking out the door. I can understand that he might want to feel connected to something rather than being totally on his own.
He was really sick resisting a lot of the drugs that were being tried out on him. He wasn’t handling it well.
Now, doesn’t that sound stupid! Handling it well!
Who are we to determine how someone handles anything that crashes down on him or her, as they make their way through life.
All that pap about a stiff upper lip and grin and bear it doesn’t work for everyone. Some can walk softly and some cannot.
Ralph was raging against it. He didn’t want to be at the mercy of others or depend on anyone to maintain his basic needs. He hinted often that he had limits to what he was willing to put up with-
There were not many times that Ralph joined me and others to talk to groups about challenges in our neighborhoods.
I did not always set up visits to schools, businesses strictly around HIV. Sometimes the audience was looking forward to hearing stories from people who had faced and “conquered” challenges in life. Occasionally the theme was about employment; travel in the third world, poverty issues or just getting through the day. I put on trainings around grog, drugs, and opportunities after a stretch in the pen. 
Ralph might show up if the theme of the visit was about decision-making and strategies. Most college kids didn’t get any training on putting together a strategy to get what they wanted. Many had no idea what they wanted.
If Ralph attended he would occasionally talk one on one with college-aged kids about his days in Iraq and how that experience gave him the internal permission to “go for it” when he left the battlefield. Sometimes he spoke about how his injuries contributed to his illness. Sometimes he claimed that tainted blood infected him and other times he spoke to kids without mentioning his illness at all.
I had no idea to the truth of any of it.
I was never sure what he was going to share so I set up my introduction using generalities. It was never a very smooth introduction when he was present, but no one seemed to mind.

Most people knew/know about me putting together this little book. I usually mentioned it to groups somewhere in my introduction of what was to follow. I had completed a book compiling the tales of a homeless man that had some traction in and out of schools. Quite a few church and arts groups had invited in an actor to read what they referred to as a “dramatic monologue.” That book, View from the Tent gave me the impetus to share stories of those fighting for their lives.

I asked some of the people I dealt with if they wanted to contribute anything beyond what conversations and observations I might make in the book.
Ralph wrote me the following letter with the “The Sound of Her Wings” stapled to his letter.

Hey Mick,
I just wanted to take a couple of minutes to thank you for hanging out just when I needed it. I know you have had a hard time trying to forecast what I was ever going to say, so, know I didn’t try to make it any harder on you than necessary. I think what you’re doing is a good thing.
I’ve headed back home. A little town in northern Michigan that I have not visited since my parents died there years ago. 
There’s a little lake tucked way back in the woods that I have rented for a month.
I scribbled out the following on the plane. Have fun with it-
I left Seattle because I need to make some decisions about what I am going to do about all of this.
Thanks again.

                                 

                           The Sound of Her Wings

After a couple of years of pumping yourself up every morning, as you guzzle experimental drugs, you begin to pay attention to the creeping cacophony of voices riding the roller coaster in your head.

That buzzing seems to be telling you that your efforts are probably for naught.
The call for the last dance is closer than you thought.
Can you hear the music?

You ignore the voice telling yourself that you need to “think positively” and “create” your own reality.
Do you believe that?
Can you actually make a concrete difference in the fabric of reality because you are hoping, wishing, imagining, and projecting some image of success back onto yourself through the mirror of your mind?
Does the universe care about you?
Is something out there listening to your pleas?
Isn’t the universe a torrent of violent upheaval changing its nature constantly?
Does anything out there care what happens to our planet, our solar system or you?
A dot buried on a planet with six billion dots looking for recognition and acceptance from something more distant than the adjacent dots…
You can hear the clock ticking, ticking, ticking - calling you to one last rally.
Is anyone listening?
Not likely.

Morning ritual.
Follow the dog.
Go to Starbucks.
Have a coffee and leaf through the morning newspaper. A paper that no longer holds interest beyond what might be happening out there that could help you find health. News, offering a blink of hope to hold off the HIV epidemic. Perhaps a cure?
You’ve lost your fire about politics recognizing you’ve been disappointed one too many times and don’t want to go down that road again.
You’ve become either cynical or exhausted.
You are recognizing that the same old crew of experts has elbowed their way onto committees, studies, and panels to decide what is best for the rest of us. Their best may not be good enough but you’re tired of trying to ramp up your arguments to a level beyond a Gandhi quote that is either totally relevant or totally irrelevant.
Doesn’t matter.
The person you are talking to isn’t really listening.
You watch the unfolding mini dramas.
Illegal parking followed by sprints into the coffee shop!
Some are texting or conversing on their iphones in their race to claim the coffee prize.
You watch the anxious feeling of disappointment on some when they realize they will have to wait their turn to order and disappear back into the morning night.
Going somewhere quickly.
Somewhere important.
Somewhere where some one pays them for whatever it is they do out there in the dark.
Morning has not broken.
There is hardly a glance at you, or others, who regularly occupy time and space in little corner tables.
Reading the paper.
People are banging away on laptops, ipads or iphones in terror of interacting with anyone else sitting close.
A nod.
A good morning!
No conversation.
What if they ask you about what you do when you’re not skimming the surface at the coffee shop!? Tell them you’re fighting for your life? No.
Keep your head down.
Watch from an angle.
Women enter and exit without a glance in your direction.
You are not there anymore than the little man that dropped off the newspapers earlier in the dark.
You watch some of the ladies take two coffees out to someone waiting expectantly.
You are envious.
You are lonely.
You are on your own.
You are scared that this is it.

You fight back with a jolly euphuism about yourself to yourself.
You maneuver to convince yourself that you are really one of the good ones and they are all missing out by not swooping you up in a collective hug.
Maybe you’re wrong.
You are now back in that place where you started hearing your voice of reality telling you the party is just about over for you.
You push that aside grasping to the life raft of chance and hope.
If you just keep moving something will happen.
Keep moving.
Keep trying. Keep praying!
To whom – for what?
For a day without pain, money, power, prestige, women, stuff?
What would you do with it besides giving it all away?

You dance with memories of times when you were significant, cherished, listened to, admired, envied and loved for a time.
Before you were sick.
Were you needed?
Actually needed? For a spell. Perhaps.
No one seems to need you now-
You don’t even know what to bring to the party anymore.
Let tenderness run rampant with your memories.
They are yours.
Be free-remember all those hugs that have gone the way of smoke.
The promises that echo off the canyons in the shady places!
Throw light on all the good times.
 Skip over all the blunders and faulty steps that inhibited your journey.
Feed yourself with a soft light knowing that it was all as it should have been.
You were a passenger on the wave that carried you to where you are today.
Lean into the curl and ride it one more time.
Shout out in joy as you head towards the beach.
The crash will be silent.
She will come for you when you are ready.
Look for her.
She is more beautiful than you ever could have imagined.
Everything else is illusion.

That’s it. I never heard from him again.

Ice is available by download through iTunes/iBook for your iPad/computer. Print copies can be ordered through Lulu Publishing, Amazon, Barnes & Noble...

For any questions email us at letkidsbekids@mac.com

Reaching out...

"Safe travels to Megan, Volunteer Coordinator of the Death Row Support Program, for Washington state. 
She offers various support services to the nine on Washington states death row in Walla Walla. 
She's heading to Walla Walla today in order to spend the next two days visiting with each inmate. 
Bless you Megan. I love you."

Contact letkidsbekids@mac.com if you have any questions.

Thank You Pete Seeger!!

Thank you Pete Seeger for always standing up for all of us!!

Help us lend a hand...

These three books tell one story about Let Kids Be Kids, Inc.
We advocate for those seeking a voice. 
We speak up, and help, the poor, the homeless, the sick, the displaced, the abandoned and victims of natural and man made disasters.
A great deal of our time is spent with young people offering them opportunities and insights into the lives and challenges of many across their community, and in the larger global community.
Our public advocacy is vocal and shared through the media as much as possible. We post to journals, newspapers, blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Newsvine, LinkedIn, Instagram and all applicable sites across the Internet.
One recent example of our public advocacy is our recent visit to a Seattle high school with Natives Rising founder Robert "Ravenspeaker" Frederiksen. He spoke about the challenges, and solutions available, to ameliorate the abysmally bad realities many natives find themselves in throughout the country. The students, given the facts, and a listening ear, were quickly able to come up with some great ideas on reaching out across the cultural divide.
Our private advocacy deals with individuals and small groups who prefer to stay out of the public eye. Our work with some veterans, x-cons, HIV/AIDS patients, students dealing with various issues are kept between us and them-

The book "Trust Kids" speaks to all the great things that can happen when we actually listen to young people and give them the opportunity to have a real voice in the process. Each chapter tells the story of such successes. The stories range from students in Mississippi who have a role on the education board. These kids helped steer the board after the devastation of Katrina. Another story is how a young man helped a group of Australians with relief work in Ache. Perhaps the most distributed chapters shares how young people in Anacortes, Washington, use native traditions to deal with bullying.
Great stories that underscore our belief that change is always possible.

"Ice" shares the courageous and hopeful stories of many I have known, and know, who have suffered the devastation of a HIV/AIDS diagnosis. The book is full of amazing people who have brought into my life a fullness I never would have imagined 26 years ago when I first got involved with the 'community." The book has been embraced by a number of nursing schools, AIDS support organizations and other non profits dealing with the sick, lonely and abandoned. Most satisfying of all is how the book has been received by those who know the people I wrote about-

"View from the Tent" is the story of one man broken by an event in his life that leads him down the trail to homelessness. Its an unusual tale because its told through an exchange of notes between me and Atreus, a pseudonym chosen by the homeless man. These exchanges bring the reader into the story line and the changes that take place in his life, and at the various camps, where he hunkered down. A Seattle actor, Dan Niven, has volunteered his time to do readings of the book at events where the book is the center of a fund raising event. The book is sold wholesale to the group, they mark it up, and sell it at the gathering. I was recently told that the book has generated about $60,000.00 in donations over the last year. Let Kids Be Kids and Dan Niven receive nothing from the sale of the book or the presentation done by Mr. Niven.
In addition to these presentations we visit various schools to share our experience and knowledge of the plight of poverty and homelessness here and in many countries we have visited. The essence of these visits is to educate and solicit solutions...
I am very proud of the following:

" Mr. Miller's book, "View from the Tent" has provided my students with a unique insight into the challenges of a homeless man wandering through the system in Seattle. It is a story of discovery and hope that has benefited my students, as they look for ways to ameliorate the challenges the poor and homeless face on a daily basis. Mr. Miller's classroom visits have helped my students understand the human side of poverty and homelessness." (Dec 2013)

Edward Wilson Reed PhD

Assistant Professor 
Matteo Ricci College, Seattle University

Your purchase helps fund Let Kids Be Kids, Inc. advocacy out reach. All net proceeds are used to make life just a little bit easier for many in our communities.

For comments or questions email us at Let Kids Be Kids.

"Natives Rising"

Robert "Ravenspeaker" Frederiksen, Tsimshian, founder of "Natives Rising", addressed 17 & 18 year old students at Seattle's Center High School yesterday.
Center teacher Andy Bell was our host for the day. 

Ravenspeaker explained his founding of  "Natives Rising" by speaking of what holds a society together, and what forces can tear a society apart, requiring a "rising of spirit." 

In order to best illuminate the challenges he told three stories, one to each class, so the students could learn a little bit about the Tsimshian  (pronounced Sim see Anne) culture and how Ravenspeaker, and his people, view the world.

One story was of an old man who fooled young women with his false beauty. The essence of the story shared the larger morality that exists to hold people together. The importance of respect and honor among the people.

The second story told of a prince who was so in love with a young woman that he would do whatever she asked to win her hand. Over time she had him slice his face and body until he was just a ribbon of a human being.
Ultimately he is saved, and renewed, and she is rejected.
The story speaks to incorporating outside influences that may destroy all that is internally held sacred.

The third story was a legend, versus being an instructive story, that told the creation story of the ever pesky mosquito.

Ravenspeaker shared with the students the tremendous challenges faced by "First Peoples" spread across the country.  "First People", or "Natives" are the preferred terms to the imposed "Native American"category on those who have been here for thousands of years. 

He quoted the dismal statistics on school dropouts, unemployment, substance abuse and teen suicide.
The students were shocked by the number of native teens that look at life through a "prism so darkly" that they chose no life to the everyday negative internal messaging they have incorporated.
Ravenspeaker quickly pivoted from these hard to embrace statistics to incorporating the students in ways they could ameliorate the woes he shared.
With very little prompting each class of students came to the conclusion that true "friendship" could turn the status quo.
Friendship that is arrived at though knowledge, empathy, sharing, familiarity, trust, support and faith that a better day is on the horizon.
Every single student said they would be "friends" and would take steps to open themselves up to the "invisible" people who surround them in a city named after a Duwamish chief that few of them know much about-

Ravenspeaker is adept at delivering age appropriate "lessons" through stories, humor, historical and cultural references, group interaction combined with his obvious dedication and enthusiasm to seeing  "a spirit rising" among natives and non natives.

Students enthusiastically grasped his message adding their own insights to what can be done to reach out to each other---
What more could you ask for in a classroom?
Thank you Ravenspeaker-

For more information and how we can help arrange a visit by Ravenspeaker to your business, club or school email us at Let Kids Be Kids.

Speaking to truth...

Great to see the students, parents and alumni speaking up to the ongoing injustice within this school and in the Seattle Archdiocese.

January 8, 2014
Dear Eastside Catholic Friends,

Many have asked for meeting minutes or at least a recap of what was discussed on our alumni call. There were about 50 people on the line. These are my takeaways and I don’t mean to speak on behalf of the whole group, but I think it will help in beginning to outline where we can go from here.

In our minds there are four distinct issues (in no particular order), and we need to respect that not all people are involved for the same reasons as the other, but all reasons are equally legitimate. Those issues are (1) Religion/Catholic Doctrine, (2), LGBT Rights, (3) Wrongful Termination, and (4) Poor Leadership. 

I will address each individual issue below, but before I do, I’d like to point out that we are not kids anymore. EC alumni have grown up and we have the education, the wherewithal, and the means to amplify the student protests to a point of global change. 

In my opinion, it is nearly impossible that the status quo will remain at Eastside Catholic. This is not an issue of money or capacity but one of strategy. What we need to determine now is not how we will punish and replace the EC administration for making mistakes (the consequences will come in due course, likely with or without our intervention), but how we will rebuild the school to be something that makes us proud.

So without further ado, here are the key issues as I see them. You are welcome and encouraged to participate in whichever categories move you to action!

1. Religion/Catholic doctrine. Many feel the Church needs to, and eventually will, change. But as we all know, the Church is on a different timeline than our exceptionally liberal state in our exceptionally liberal country. Despite this, part of the “Z-Day” concept is our vision to have ALL Catholic schools in the US participate so that more than just the Archdiocese of Seattle feels pressure. Potential partners are organizations like Faithful America. This is not an easy road, and we could use some experts in Canon Law to assist in getting the student voices heard all the way to the Vatican. If you are interested in being on this committee, let us know. Please note: we have non-religious and non-Catholic folks that are equally incensed, but this issue alone does not cover their concerns.

2. LGBT Rights. Unrelated to EC or religion, our country is on the verge of major change when it comes to LGBT rights. Marriage equality laws are passing throughout the country, and very recently in Washington State. The law is still nascent when it comes to enforcing these new rights and many would like to see them apply in every possible circumstance. Social Outreach Seattle has been instrumental in amplifying the student concerns as well as many other LGBT-focused media outlets and non-profits. The ultimate goal here is to see a day where all people are allowed to live freely as they were made. Similar to the Catholic topic, however, some of our more conservative constituents are not interested in hanging their flag on the pro-gay rights movement. We respect this too. If you are interested in being on this committee, let us know.

3. Wrongful termination. There are undoubtedly employment law issues at play. EC will probably have some legal rights because of their affiliation with the Catholic Church but they do not have the right to cherry-pick what rules they enforce. One suggestion is to insist that the employee contracts specify that teachers are obligated to teach Catholic doctrine, but they are not required to adhere to it in their personal lives. Example: we had a beloved Jewish math teacher who taught at EC for decades. There is no way she could abide by Catholic doctrine outside of the classroom, but if you asked her whether she thought birth control should be allowed, she simply stated that she believed she was obligated in her contract to teach certain Catholic views. No one expected her to lie to the students about the fact that she was Jewish. No one expected her to follow Catholic doctrine in her personal life. If you are interested in exploring this issue or any other creative litigation strategies, let us know.

4. Poor leadership. In my personal opinion, and I suspect in many of yours, the poor leadership of the board and the administration (not only Sr. Mary) has contributed to an oppressive and ongoing hostile work environment at EC. Dozens of teachers have left in the past few years; many are still in a mild state of depression over the undemocratic environment. As a proud Crusader who has tried numerous times to get the administration to respond, this is wholly unacceptable to me and the area I am most passionate about. While I do believe we will get our way as to the ousting of Sr. Mary, I still believe a major revision of the bylaws will be necessary. Some suggestions we’ve heard so far including the following: 

I. Make sure at least two alumni and two faculty (former or current) are on the board. 

II. Ensure a democratic process applies in wider circumstances than in school finances so that singular powerful board members cannot dictate school policy.

III. Parents of current students may be allowed limited seats on the board and must recuse themselves of voting in certain situations. 

IV. Ensure the faculty has a formal vote in the hiring of the new President. 

V. Ensure a grievance policy is in place for faculty to use when board members or administrators misbehave. 

VI. Suggestion: Go back to the President/Principal model. EC went to this model and it was explained that the president dealt with outside the school house issues (i.e. fundraising) and the principal would deal with in the school house issues (curriculum, etc.) In the event of a disagreement, the Board would hear both sides and take a vote.

If you’d like to discuss any of the above, we are looking for committee members for each category. Thanks for caring, thanks for reading, and thanks for helping our world be a better place for everyone!

Sincerely, 
Mary K 

Mary Kopczynski, J.D./Ph.D.
EC Class of 1996

Down, but not out!

         

Three days a week I am privileged to drive oldsters to their endless doctor appointments.

The man in the photo, I’ll call him Jim, has been my passenger a couple of times a month for the last year or so. At 88 he is seeing his health spiral downwards rapidly.

Jim has had a heart condition since his thirties.

Recently a doctor told him his heart was operating at about 15% of efficiency. That doctor told him there was nothing to be done, as he wouldn’t be able to handle the major operation that would have a dicey chance of any measurable success. Jim is okay with that-

Last week I took him to three different appointments within a five hour window. The first doctor ran some tests for the second doctor so the third doctor could review the tests done by doctor #1 and doctor #2.

No, these were not at the same facility making it easy for Jim.

Three different facilities with plenty of walking required.

Jim moves so slowly it seems to take forever for him to get from one spot to another. We’ve laughed that he moves so slowly that he’s actually going back in time. He wouldn’t mind going back to those days of teaching at a midwest University.

He has a motorized scooter but its impossible to use considering the van challenges and the various obstacles at the hospital and at the doctors offices.

Watching him shuffle into his third appointment I wondered just what is it we’re doing to each other?

Why does he have to go to three different places when the doctors must know that the strain and stress are just pushing him closer to his final dance with that angel thats waiting to take him away on the last great adventure.

Is it too much to ask that they come together and meet with him?
Are those days gone forever?

Are we at the mercy of a system, that we have created, that acts at arms distance just when we want to be held close.
Jim and I spoke about it.

He shrugged saying its bad, but the only game in town. That he has a sense of humor about all this is remarkable.

Jim is not a rich man.

I wonder if I’d be driving a rich man to three different facilities?

Jim struggled to make it back to the van after the third appointment.  

He was exhausted!

I wish he could be treated differently. Perhaps one of those three doctors could compile all the information and make a “house call” sharing whatever news with Jim where he is comfortable.

I wish for a lot of things…

Email me at letkidsbekids@mac.com if you have any thoughts...

Standing Up for Whats Right!!

Join a protest !!
"WHEN: 2PM Friday
WHERE: THE SEATTLE ARCHDIOCESE OFFICE-710 9th Ave, Seattle. 
WHY: "In response to the dismissal of Vice Principal Mark Zmuda, Eastside Catholic, an alliance of Seattle Archdiocesan School students and LGBTQ rights organizations led by Social Outreach Seattle (SOSea), will be protesting at the Archdiocese of Seattle Offices.
The Vice Principal was fired for loving and marrying another man--

A Trip to the Pawnshop! A Christmas Story.

A Trip to the Pawnshop!

A Christmas Story

A few days before Christmas I gave a ride to the neighborhood pawnshop to a man who recently became a resident of a homeless shelter in Seattle.
I met him while filming conversations with a number of teenagers who had volunteered to help a homeless camp settle in at their new location on a church parking lot in an upscale neighborhood.
While I was filming he approached me asking if I was with the local press. I told him I was there to help out and talk with volunteers and residents if the opportunity presented itself. While I was explaining why I was there I was thinking he was probably a church member or one of the a parents of the dozen or so high school kids milling about looking to make themselves useful.
I’ll admit my surprise when he told me he was going to be staying in the shelter we were in the process of constructing.
Considering the many years I’ve been hanging around the edge, my pre conceptions still surprise me.
I noticed some of the people standing near us do a double take when he mentioned his status.

George, not his given name, is not what you think of when you think homeless man. He is well groomed, well spoken and well dressed.
He’s in a pickle to use his words.

A pickle brought about by insurmountable medical debt combined with the inability to find a job. He told me his wife had recently died from the cancer that struck her five years ago when there was a ceiling on the amount the insurance company would pay. He said they flew past the million cap two years into her treatment. A number of brain surgeries, rehab, and a stroke all brought about the sale of his home, investments, stocks and bonds and his wife’s car.
He commented on wondering what would have happened to his loves stress level if she were sick now when the cap has been taken away by the changes in health care coverage.
After liquidating most of his assets he moved the two of them into a small apartment near the hospital.
George was an executive with a religious organization overseeing their IT programs statewide. He told me he had no idea that there was no unemployment insurance until he was laid off. Capital needs to settle outstanding law suits against the church apparently made him too expensive to keep around.
He shared that what little family was alive was no longer able to help. They had done more than enough the first few years and were as played out, as were many others out there-
George showed a hang mans humor to the situation making poignant remarks about the organization he had showed so much loyalty to through the years.

He actually laughed when he told me his downward spiral had one more foot in the rear to deliver before fate took a well deserved break.

After he was made “redundant” he went out with his co-workers for dinner and drinks at their favorite hangout-the Edgewater Inn.
He over did it plowing his car into a concrete barrier designed to keep cars off the rail tracks. Car was totaled – insurance had lapsed.
“Hey, the good thing was I pushed the car onto the lot near the art college for the night. If the cops had of arrived I would have been in the clink for sure!”

Amazing what we can laugh at when reality is standing within spitting distance.

George and I talked for a while before he got recruited to help empty one of the trucks bringing camper gear from their last asphalt home.

I told him I would be back in the morning.
We would meet near the camp Christmas tree.

When I returned in the morning we walked over to the church where they had set up coffee and some Danish for whoever wanted to dig into the pile of goodies.
George told me he had a small storage unit across town that he was going to visit to get a few items to hock or sell. He was down to less than ten bucks and needed to get whatever he could get before tackling Social Security to investigate what might be available to him. He told me that avenue was a bust a few years ago but he wanted to try again.
As I was thinking about the expense of a storage unit he read my mind telling me it belonged to a friend who gave him the combination. I guess he thought I was going to ask about the expense of a unit. I wasn’t going to -

An appointment I had scheduled for later in the morning had cancelled, via a text, while we were having coffee. I told him I’d run him around for a couple of hours.

When we got to the storage locker facility I waited in the car for him. He was gone about twenty-five minutes returning with a small bag under his arm.
“Got a couple of binoculars and the last of anything silver. Should fetch a couple of hundred, I hope.”

I went online on my iphone to look up the retail price of a Swift Audubon 8.5 x 44 and a Swift Micron 10 x 25 sets of binoculars. Together they were listed at a bit over $410.00 with the 8.5 x 44 valued at $359.00.
George thought he’d get at least a hundred for the two of them. His wife had given him the better set for his birthday one year so he was determined to “hock’ them getting them back as soon as possible.
Along with the binoculars he had three one-ounce pure silver bars he had given his wife on their last wedding anniversary.
They were limited edition bars with Christmas scenes carved on them.
He married during the holiday season thirty plus years ago.

We talked about nothing in particular on our way to the pawnshop. Sports, the weather and politics consumed the silent time during the short ride.

When we parked near the pawnshop we shared our surprise at how welcoming it looked from the street.
Neither of us had ever been in a hockshop so we had no idea what to expect.

My expectations were tied to Rod Steiger’s gritty role in the Pawnbroker. “His character Nazerman dealt with his war time trauma by stifling his emotions, with the result that he saw everyone around him, especially the desperate people who come into his pawnshop, as scum of the earth.”

When we walked in a young lady greeted us pointing out where various items were displayed.
The store was immaculate.
A Christmas tree and a platter of cookies on a side table invited us to browse brightly lit counters and shelves full of inexpensive goodies.
George got in line as I wandered around the store looking at treasures people had either sold or forgotten to retrieve.

I joined George when he got to the counter. A middle-aged man, who had no resemblance to Steiger’s Nazerman, who overflowed with anger and remorse, greeted us warmly.  This guy was obviously a graduate of the Dale Carnegie School. He made us feel totally comfortable and not at all embarrassed that we were at the “Bank of Last Resort.”

The man made very positive comments about the more expensive binoculars saying he would look up a value. He invited us to share the cookies as well as offering coffee if we wanted a cup. This reception was completely contrary to what I thought of pawnshops. I couldn’t hold back my expressed wish that my bank could learn a few things from this shopkeeper. The man laughed as he continued looking at his computer. After a couple of minutes he asked George if he had anything else he wanted valued. George took out the three individually wrapped ingots proudly displaying them. A number of the other employees came over to gaze at the silver saying how beautiful they were. George couldn’t help but tell them they were a gift to his wife. As soon as that came out of his mouth I could feel his regret.
The proprietor looked at the silver through a loop complimenting the engravings.
A few minutes passed before the man looked at George telling him he could give him $15.00 for the binoculars and .20 cents per gram for the silver bars. A total touching $35.00.

Can you actually hear silence or the stoppage of time? If so, I did.
The very moment George heard the offered price it seemed as if both had taken a sabbatical.
Similar to the characters starring in lame television situational dramas I asked the man to repeat what he said even though he had been very clear. He explained that he needed to have a margin to sell the items if the client never came back into the shop.

George stepped out of that frozen moment thanking the man for his time and expertise. He told him that he would consider the price returning if he decided to sell.
George reverently wrapped the silver ingots placing them back in the little bag he had laid on the counter.
We left.
On the way to the car George reached into his pocket to drop some coins into a Salvation Army bucket. He got a “God bless you” from the lady swinging the bell.

When we got to the car I asked him if he would mind if I called around to get some prices on the silver. He nodded his approval saying nothing.
I called a couple of dealers to find out that the best deal was based on silver content. Neither of the places I called cared what the pieces were as they were only interested in purity and weight. Best price was .61 cents a gram.

George sighed loudly, laughed and asked if I would mind dropping him off back at the shelter. Our original plan of hitting Starbucks after the successful financial transaction was dead-

We drove back in silence. I could only imagine what might be going on in his mind.

When we got back George thanked me for the ride saying he’d see me later. I had intended to leave straight away but got hooked into a conversation with a couple of people about some kids that were scheduled to come to camp and sing Christmas carols. I wasn’t the one who organized it so I begged off and hit the trail.

As I was walking back to my car George called out to me. I stopped and waited for him wondering what was causing the ear to ear grin on his face.
“Here, look at this.” He said handing me an envelope.
On the outside of the envelope someone had written, “my daughter wrote the note inside.”
I opened it up way too slowly for George. Inside was a note bordered by drawings of a Christmas tree and a snowman. Little birds were circling an angel perched on the top of the tree. The snowman had an immense hat with a red bow prominently displayed left of center.

The handwritten note read as follows.

Dear homeless man,
Daddy told us about you when he came home tonight. He said he heard your wife had died and you have no job. We are so sorry that has happened to you. We know you must be sad but we want you to be happy at Christmas - not sad. Daddy said you felt like a very nice man and he is usually right about such things. We will say prayers for you.
Your friends
Jennifer, Amy, Jimmy

On the bottom was written.
This was totally the kids’ idea. They decided to share what they had saved with you. We added to their gift. Merry Christmas.

I looked at George who was biting back the tears that were forming in his eyes. He showed me cash totaling $143.86, a Starbucks gift card, a QFC gift card and a sixty-day all region bus pass.

After a moment he insisted on treating me at Starbucks.

Merry Christmas.

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