Talhams@Toulouse: 2012

Thursday, December 20, 2012

This tragedy must not be futile

I had a nightmare last night involving one of my girls. Thankfully, I woke up before realizing the enormity of what was happening. I didn't want to know how it ended. Although shaken when I awoke, I calmed myself by checking on all three girls and hearing their steady breathing. Tragically, for some mothers and fathers in Connecticut, their nightmare is all too real and must feel right now as if it will never end.

I have to believe that my mind is unsettled with what happened to those 20 precious children in Connecticut last Friday. It's hard to wrap one's mind around it. One of my girls asked me why the gunman did it. I told her it would really scare me if we understood his motives. That might make us no different than him. I know I can't be the only one with troubling thoughts pressing on my mind. The question is, what to do about them?

I almost lost one of my girls six years ago. She became gravely ill with an infection that turned septic. It is difficult still today for me to think of that time. I must have been confused and dazed. My recollections of speaking with doctors is that they didn't believe I fully grasped the gravity of the situation. I heard the pediatrician say, "We're watching her demise right in front of us," while watching a wall of monitors. The attending in PICU told me I didn't have time to consult with my husband about a procedure they needed to perform if they had any hope at all of turning things around before all of her systems shut down. The doctors would conference outside my daughter's room with strain stamped on their faces. I long ago realized the reason I find it distressing to think of that incident: I have no Earthly idea what I would do if I lost one of my children. So I think of the parents in Connecticut and wonder how it is they are getting along. And I think we need to help them.

There is an immeasurable leap between "almost losing" and "losing" a child. I know this. I think of those parents in Connecticut and parents everywhere who have lost a child, and I wonder where they find the strength to go on. If I feel weak just thinking about the possibility, how must they feel having to adjust to the reality? It's incomprehensible. But we must think about it because tragedies like Sandy Hook are becoming all too common and far too frequent. We must find the strength to do something about it. There is no easy solution; if there were, someone already would have proposed it. But we must know that turning our backs or shutting off our minds to this because the challenge of tackling it is too problematic is not a solution. It is an invitation for these incidents to continue. We as a nation of parents, grandparents, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, and uncles must harness our might to make something happen. We have an obligation not only to Connecticut's twenty angels but to the survivors and to those born every day bearing a gift to all of us of hope for a bright future.

I am certain that one of my many "mommy quotes" that make my girls cringe is, "My job is to make you safe, not happy." While typically said in moments of frustration when I am attempting to deflect charges of unfairness or unreasonableness, it really is a simple truth of parenthood. Our job is to keep our children safe and, ultimately, to teach them how to keep themselves safe. And if we can extrapolate out from our own walls to include "the village" we all comprise, our job is to keep each other safe, especially our weakest and most defenseless. As so many worrisome thoughts percolate through my mind about my own children and the children in Connecticut, survivors included, I feel slightly panicked that we might lose the momentum we have right now to find a solution to these mass killings. I simply cannot believe that we would rather protect our rights to own assault rifles and all of their deadly accessories than our children. We must act. We can provide strength to those who have lost a child, we can make certain that these all too short lives were not in vain, and we can rededicate ourselves to keeping safe our most vulnerable.

Although I may not like what my mind is telling me, especially in the deep sub-conscious state of sleep,
I believe it is poking at me to make me act. This tragedy has evoked visceral fears and made our emotions raw. We don't all agree on solutions or even the problem itself. Let's not let that be a reason to turn away. Let's not put up walls because it is too hard. Think of those that must go on despite unimaginable loss. Let's put ourselves in their shoes for a short walk. How far could we go? Think about it, and in our awake and aware state, let's use intellect and reason to find a way to keep each other safe.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

So, I am here in Toulouse with an acute awareness that this week I am missing one of my most favorite holidays. Pangs of homesickness stop me smack in the middle of my happy tracks, and I have to acknowledge that sometimes this is hard! Luckily for me and my state of mind, I am also conscious of how appreciative I am for the year that we are spending away from home, work, familiar routines, friends, and family. Before anyone takes that as an insult, let me explain what I am thinking. In no way is our "real" home or life or friends or family diminished by this leave of absence we have taken. In fact, a greater appreciation for all of those precious things grows with each day we are gone. However, something else spectacular is happening. I am appreciating my family more because I have simply been given the luxury to do so. What an amazing gift! Anyone who has moved to a new place together will understand that when you only have each other on which to rely, then you only have each other. It's hard not to appreciate all that each of us offers to our family when there is time to notice. I marvel at my girls every day as they courageously forge on to experience something so different for them and to learn in a language and within a system that is not their own. I have time to spend with them before their days begin and as they end such that I can listen to them in a way that lets me hear. I am learning more about them because we are not distracted--we have only each other. I have time to spend with my husband. Rather than living a parallel lifestyle as we rush about getting ourselves and our children here and there and everywhere, the gap has closed and we walk side by side. No rush, no hurry. We can have coffee together, we can go to the market together, we can stop at a cafe. We can get lunch together, we can cook together, we can run together. We can learn new things about each other as we adjust to a new life in a new place. We are all valuable here as we rely on each other as only a family can. For this, I am grateful. We only have each other, and it has allowed us to expand what we see, what we hear, and what we learn from each other. Time has been a gift so that we can appreciate what is in front of us. We can truly recognize and acknowledge each other's worth. The benefit is that we enjoy all that we have and do not yearn for what we don't. I am thankful, and I am hopeful that all of you have a wonderful holiday filled with gratitude and appreciation!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Spain

We have just returned from the first half of school break number one: after eight weeks of school, the girls have two weeks off! For the rest of the year, they will be on for six, off for two. Sounds nice, huh? The school days here, however, are much more rigorous than at home. Claire and Corinne are at school from 8:30 to 4:30 M, Th, Fr; 8:30 to 3:30 T; and 8:30 to 11:45 W. Charlotte, well, I'm not sure I have yet wrapped my head around her schedule. Somehow she takes 11 classes. Monday starts late, so she is at school from 10:15 to 5:30. Friday is early release, so the day lasts from 8:15 to 4:30. Tuesday and Thursday are from 8:15 to 5:30 while Wednesday is an early day for her, as well, and lasts from 8:15 to 1:30.

The amount of time spent isn't the most striking difference--I have even been heard to say that we need longer school days at home. The difference is in the environment here. It is quite harsh. Attendance at university is offered only to the best and brightest, and the weeding out begins early. So much for late bloomers! Here, there are plenty of children left behind. In all fairness, though, they have in place other educational opportunities to train productive citizens in any manner of trade or craft--something we are sadly lacking. The philosophy tends toward emphasizing what you do not do well, rather than what you do well. I think therein lies the difference--it is far more taxing on any eager-to-please students.

Students may typically find one of three different comments on their work: M (mal, aka bad), B (bien, aka good), or TB (tres bien, aka very well done). I had to laugh when I learned about M--I'd probably be quickly fired if I were to write "Bad" as a comment on a student's work! All scoring is out of 20, but apparently a 20 is almost nonexistent. And, some teachers share student scores with the class. I know this may be motivational for some but what about the devastation caused to others? Charlotte was horrified one day when her English teacher began reading out scores on an early assignment. She compassionately insisted, "How does the kid who gets a 3 feel???"

Enough of me trying to justify the two-week break! We've enjoyed it so far. So much so, I only have two words to share about Cuenca, Spain: GO THERE! You know I am not a person of few words, so I do in fact have more to say! We headed off through the Pyrenees to get to Spain which began our oohing and ahhing experiences for the trip. My longing for the beach transferred to a longing for the mountains! Whatever scenery gives you the most pleasure, the one constant is Mother Nature's talent! The Pyrenees was a great way to exit France and enter Spain. Our plan is to go back and ski the mountains in the winter.

On to Cuenca. We were lucky that Dan was invited to attend a meeting here so we could experience this place. This town in the center of Spain is spectacular. Carved out of two rivers and balanced on a cliff, it has breathtaking scenery all around. The old town is on the high ground and requires great effort traversing hills and/or quaint stairways to get there, but it is well worth it! One of my favorite places was the "Casas Colgadas" or hanging houses which hang precariously over a cliff and are home to a fabulous abstract art museum. There is a gorgeous cathedral in the center, and some old convents and monasteries that have been converted into luxury hotels. Around just about every corner we turned, there was something charming to see.

About 30 km outside of town is the "Ciudad Encandada" or Enchanted City. This is the place to go to see how the water carved through this area and left incredible rock formations. It is amazing to stand under some of them and imagine how the water coursed through the region. Anyway, the girls and I took a trip out there one day and had a blast discovering this park. Another day we traveled about 15 km outside of town to visit "Las Torcas" or sinkholes! Okay, so Florida has sinkholes, but not like these. They are canyons! Sadly, they were not filled with water, which is supposed to be a spectacular sight, but we were lucky enough to happen upon some goats as we hiked around.

When we left we headed to Valencia, as Charlotte was determined to have paella before we left Spain, and the best place to have it is where it is the regional specialty. Valencia is a gorgeous city! We only stayed there one night but toured the old city and gorged on paella. We traveled along the coast on the way home so were between the mountains and the Mediterranean--not a bad spot for travel! After a quiet weekend here at home, we head to the Dordogne river valley tomorrow for a week of castle viewing, prehistoric cave discovering, and consuming more regional fare. Pix on that to come later. In the meantime, here are some photos from the Spain trip!

The Pyrenees offer some incredible sights!