A Response to Tragedy

I recognize that, most likely, no one will read this, but I feel the need to publicly express what's rolling around in my heart and mind this morning regarding the tragedy in Connecticut.

Although I know that schools are quite possibly the safest places to be, one of my greatest fears as a teacher is someone coming to school with a gun, intent on doing harm.  That fear was realized for too many people today.  My heart is broken.  There are no words to express how deeply saddened I am at the loss of young lives.

However, many are latching on to this horrific event as an excuse to promote their own gun control agendas.  That, in my mind, is absolutely inappropriate.  First of all, show some respect for those who are mourning.  Give them a chance to grieve before turning their sadness into a political opportunity.  (I regret the fact that they feel the need to politicize this instead of providing comfort and shoulders to cry on, but this is the reality of the world we live in.)  Second of all, this is not a gun control issue.  More stringent gun control would not have prevented this tragedy.  The shooter's mother owned her guns legally, but it did not stop this young man from using those guns to commit an atrocity.  If someone wants a gun to shoot inside an elementary school, or anywhere else for that matter, he/she will obtain a gun, legally or otherwise.  Laws only keep honest people honest.  Those intent on harming others do not, generally, show concern for how many laws they are breaking in the process. 

The issue here is not gun control or safety measures in schools (or lack thereof).  The issue here is not that simple.  The issue here is the hate and anger that was allowed to take root in a broken young man's heart.  A hate that only Jesus can heal.  The senseless loss of life included this young man who was in so much pain that shooting others, and then himself, seemed the only option left.  Oh, how this world needs Jesus.  It's not a simple answer.  It's not a politically correct answer.  But it's the only answer that makes sense.  Jesus is the only hope left to turn to.  Let us use this tragedy not as an excuse to promote our own selfish political agendas, but as an opportunity to share His hope and love with a broken world searching for answers.


P.S.  Just in case you feel the need to be mean: please no angry, argumentative, political, or otherwise disrespectful comments.  They are not welcome and will be deleted.

The Job Search

As some of you know, I decided back in February to not sign the offered contract for next year.  There are myriad reasons, both personal and professional, that all add up to the fact that it’s time to move on; Alaska is not a good fit for me anymore.  Because of that, I am now 10 school days (and 15 days total) away from joining the ranks of the unemployed.  Besides the obvious, there are 2 problems with this: I don’t know where to look, and I don’t deal well with rejection.

I have been told that the sky is the limit, and it really is.  I am not married, have no kids, no significant other, and no attachment with any particular geographic location.  I could literally go anywhere in the world.  For someone who has trouble making decisions, this is not a good thing.  I have narrowed it down to somewhere closer to my family.  That doesn’t really help, though, because there are several states that are closer to Idaho than where I am now: Washington, Oregon, Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, the Dakotas, California, etc.  I’m kind of overwhelmed.  The trouble is not with finding a job.  The trouble is with knowing where to look and how to focus the search. 

I don’t deal well with rejection.  At all.  This is because I tend to take things personally, and this is proving especially true in relation to teaching.  Teaching isn’t just a job or a career for me; it’s a calling.  Being a teacher is part of who I am.  Therefore, when I am told that I am not what they are looking for or I’m not good enough, they are not just rejecting me for the job.  It feels like they are personally rejecting me as a person.  It’s not true, and form letters should be impersonal enough to soften the blow, but they don't.  It’s enough to throw me into a funk. 

Spring is finally making a beautiful appearance in Alaska, but I am having a hard time enjoying because I am so burdened by my inability to find a job, the hassles of moving 2000 miles south, and the inevitable rejection that accompanies a job search.

Iditarod!

January, as a month, is okay.  Sure, we're coming down off a major holiday and all the sugary goodness that goes with it.  But that gives us a fitness goal to focus on.  And there's still enough leftover goodwill in the air that nobody wants to strangle anybody else for a good part of the month.  Then comes February.  The longest, coldest, darkest month ever.  Some might try to tell you that there are only 28 (or 29) days, so it is actually the shortest month.  Don't believe them.  It's all a lie.  February is full of long, dark, cold days followed by long, cold, dark nights, with nothing to break up the monotony.

But then comes the glorious month of March.  It's not the best month ever, but its coming means that February is over and that is something to be thankful for.  Now, for some of you, March might mean the beginning of spring.  Not so much in Alaska.  March is still very much a winter month.  (And so is April, but that's another matter entirely).  Dog sledding is a winter sport, and the fact that we still have enough winter to hold a dog sled race in March says something about our weather.  March is still (very) cold, but the days are longer than the nights, and the whole month seems shorter because there is something to get excited about.  That something is the Iditarod. 

The Iditarod is a 1000-mile sled dog race that runs from Anchorage to Nome each year.  It starts on the first Saturday in March, and ends a couple of weeks later.  There are 25 checkpoints along the way that mushers must check in to, and Elim is privileged to be one of those checkpoints.  We get to see all the teams coming through, and usually time our spring break to coincide with when the majority of the teams are passing. Spring break in itself is enough, but to have it coincide with 60 dog teams running through is pretty cool.

The first teams started coming through on Monday.  I kept an eye on the internet tracker all day, knowing that the first teams had left Koyuk.  From there, it's about 7 hours to Elim.  The kids knew what was coming, and were darn excited.  A gauge of our focus level came right at the beginning of the day.  We were reviewing coins and thinking about the features of each one.  I asked, "Does anyone remember from yesterday whose face is on the quarter?"  Right in front, one little girl piped up, "Jeff King!"  Jeff King is a musher who has won several Iditarods and came out of retirement to run this year.  I knew then and there that we weren't getting anything done that day. 

I let the kids go about five minutes early because the first team was close and they all made a bee-line for the fire hall/armory/checkpoint.  Dallas Seavey was in first place.  He didn't stay long, just long enough to grab his food bags, some straw, and let the vets check his dogs.

He's a young'un!  He loaded those bags onto his sled along with some straw.  Rumor has it, he stopped a couple miles out of the village to rest and snack his dogs instead of stopping in the village.  Something about throwing off the competition.  (It must have worked, because he ended up winning!) 

The vets check every dog at every checkpoint.

Back on the trail to Nome!

We waited around for another half an hour or so because we knew that the next musher wasn't far behind.  Aily Zirkle rolled into town and actually parked her team for a break.  She moved around bedding down her dogs and feeding them, while the vets did their thing.

The crowd started to thin out at this point.  The next musher wasn't expected for at least another hour.  The kids, however, were having a ball.  One of my students is an animal lover, particularly dogs, and I watched her stand motionless watching this team for a long time.

Some other students had another idea for a good vantage point:

Those are big straw bales they are laying on. 

And, of course, no post would be complete without a shot of Maquire the Moose, whom the cameraman was carrying around and letting the kids play with.