Wednesday, September 25, 2013

My life has value because of other peoples' children


When I was getting close to 40, I was sitting in a restaurant with a friend of mine. He pointed to a little girl around two years old and said, “Doesn’t that just make you want one??” I looked over at the little girl and felt nothing. I mean, she was cute and all…and I love little kids…but wanting one for myself?? “No, it really doesn’t,” I replied.

We continued with the conversation of how we were both getting older and how he wished he had started his family when he was younger. I kept looking at the little girl trying to feel some kind of biological clock ticking…something that would make me have this innate desire to wish she were mine, running around my table. It just didn’t happen.

Mind you, I’ve always loved kids. I played with dolls until I was in the 4th grade. I loved babysitting. …or maybe it was less that I loved babysitting and more that I loved that the parents trusted me with their kids. I loved that parents would hand me their children after church and I would take them and play with them while the parents stood around talking. I loved that the kids always took to me. I had some kind of gift, I suppose. But, at 40 and unmarried, it didn’t translate into me wanting a child of my own to care for on my own.

Though there are times I really wonder what went wrong in my life, I think I’ve pretty much come to terms with the fact that my life is not...and was maybe never meant to be...like everyone assumes. I have not married and I don't have my 2.5 children...and I may never have that. Instead, I have learned that I still love that parents trust me with their children. I am honored that they trust if they put their children in my hands, I will provide them with new experiences, teach them things they didn’t get in school, connect them with resources that can help them, push them toward college, and do my darndest to see that they become productive citizens. I suppose it is for those reasons that I don’t feel the need to have children of my own.

There's still a little bitty nagging voice ever so often that whispers, “What happened?! You should have gotten married and had kids!” The louder, more rational voice speaks and reminds me that if I had had one or two or three little ones to take care of, I would have put all of my energies into them...because that's what parents are supposed to do. Parents are supposed to lose sleep, move to different neighborhoods so their kids have better schools, and spend money they don't have so that their children can get the things that they want and need. And because it’s such a responsibility to make sure they raise their own correctly, it doesn’t leave a lot of time.

I think about the parents who work jobs that don’t have “paid time off.” I think about the parents who immigrated to this country, don’t speak English, and can’t communicate with their child’s teacher or any of the school personnel. I think about refugees who are sent to our city but don’t understand the culture and are just grateful to be somewhere safe. I think about the parents whose hourly wage jobs are from 2-7 in the evenings, and doesn't allow them the time to expose their kids to new opportunities. I think about those who can't afford to enroll their children in all of the amazing enrichment and educational experiences available in our city. All of those parents want the best for their kids but don’t necessarily have the access or ability to connect with the resources needed to help their child succeed.

At one of our reward trips for the Eagle Scholars college readiness group I work with, I was able to take six middle schoolers and three of their older siblings to a friend’s home to make Italian food. Throughout the evening, so many learning opportunities came up.

Javier learned what a “whisk” was and why you use it. We talked about making a roux so we could create a thickening agent for the white sauce we were making. His super-surprised/shocked expression was priceless when he came back after taking a break and went to stir the milk, butter, flour mixture and felt how much it had thickened.

Another student learned about a sifter—the term, as well as why and how you use it. She repeated the word several times to make it permanent in her vocabulary.

We experienced stuffing cannelloni and tenderizing chicken for the chicken parmesan. We talked about using a serrated knife for bread so it didn’t smush the bread. We doubled recipes and used our math skills to multiply and  used Google and more math skills to convert ounces to cups so we would know how much to use. Some learned to correctly measure flour; others learned to correctly measure liquids (and for you non-cooks out there…yes, there is a way to do that so your recipe turns out right!). Before we ate, we had a mini-lesson on etiquette so we would know where to place the cups (on the right) and how to use the many different forks and spoons they give you in a big, fancy dinner setting (start from the outside and work your way in).

The whole experience was priceless…for me as much as I would guess it was for them. It absolutely made my day when one student told me, “This is really awesome.” Because we were searching for empty containers at the time, confused, I asked, “Looking for containers?!” “No,” she explained, “this whole cooking thing!” And went on to ask, “Could we do this again next year…and do a different food theme?” Of course!!

On the way home, I asked them what they had learned (it’s a question I always like to ask). One of the girls said, “Teamwork.” Not sure if she was saying that just because it was the “right” answer, I probed. “What do you mean?” She explained, “We all had to work together or we wouldn’t have gotten all of that done.” Another student explained, “Sharing is caring…because we had to share the stove with each other to make what we needed for our dish.” It was a great analogy…and I hadn’t even thought of it. We did have to work together. We did have to share. And by doing so, we not only accomplished our task, but I think the food came out absolutely superb! It was the perfect analogy for this group of students who are working toward college. The path is much easier when you work together.

I don’t know what it’s like to be a parent, but I know when kids enjoy, appreciate, value, and/or just learn something from a new experience, it makes me overjoyed. That’s when I know that my path in life was probably set for me by a higher power long before I realized it. My role is not to impact my own two or three kids. My role is to assist other parents with impacting theirs.




Editor’s post script: After writing this post, I received a text message from one of the kids who attended the cooking class. She sent me a picture of two tomato pies (just like we made last night) and said, “Look Ms I made my own.” Her text absolutely made my day…that she made the pies and that she texted me to tell me about it!
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