Fishing for Employment and Rainbows
I was late getting in last night because 4 kids had parents who didn’t pick them up on time, but I took the last one home myself (she’s a favorite, and her mom is great–adopted from Cambodia when her mom could have retired comfortably instead). That’s probably against the law somehow, but what are they going to do, fire me? It was good to see Greg and settle in at my nest at KR–it feels like home. Mine, not Joe’s. That’s recent. Talked to my Ian and my Mombo. Up early this a.m. to drive to Danville. This was Joe’s fishing time of year, so maybe John is right in that I must cast my line in many different directions with varied baits and see if anything bites. Left a resume, somewhat fortuitously I hope, and headed back to St. Mark to start packing up my room. Went there and who’s waiting but 8 of my graduates from years past–it was senior skip day at Central and exam day at Catholic, and they came to help me pack up instead. They were awesome. They had already gone through my books and separated the ones with Dixon, Adkins, or Wood inside the covers. They knew the room like the backs of their hands. It was their realm for three years. They didn’t mention that I’m fired or that they’re sorry or that they love me. They were just there, and they cared, and God couldn’t have given me a better message. Their strong bodies easily hefted the boxes into their cars and into my car (and one of my “bad boys” asked if I trusted him to drive it to 4th St. and I told him it’s Caitlan’s, so be careful or she’d kill him.) Soon they left having accomplished much and hugged me goodby. Some will graduate tomorrow, and I reminded them that I’m always there for them and that my email won’t change in case they need recommendations or advice. I didn’t cry in front of them, thank goodness.
Then my KK came to help me more, and I was interrupted by our P.E. teacher who is one of my moms, and who has also been discarded during “spring cleaning.” She went on her first trip with us this week and loved it. She is one of the most faith-filled people I know. When we left Cincy to come back yesterday, we looked out the window to our left and saw a double rainbow. It was the most pefect rainbow I’ve ever seen–it literally went from one end of the sky to the other, just like in the coloring books. We were all telling each other to look, and calling the other bus and telling them to look, and just watching it until we couldn’t anymore. So today she came into my room just to say, “Joan, that rainbow was a promise to us. Rainbows are promises. We may not know what it means right now, but I know that’s what God was saying to us. It had to be.” She’s one of the ones who could move mountains.
We finished for the day at about 7:30, and I was ready to leave when I remembered that I should check my email, and lo and behold, yet another message from the powers that be disallowing several more little requests that the 8th graders had for making the occasion of their graduation their own. I replied that we would do as we were told, but could I please have some reasons to bring to them when I tell them about the changes. I will get no response.
I went to 4th St. to get Greg and found a letter in the mailbox. I’m not supposed to get mail there, but somehow I got the letter from the other diocesan school to whom I applied telling me that the position was filled. I applied for any position in the whole school. I liked the principal. She could have called. It’s not paranoid–they aren’t going to let me teach this diocese. Maybe not in any diocese. Maybe the rainbow was promising something else.
KK and I went to Annie and Steve’s for cold pizza, salad, and magaritas (not KK). Annie–my first friend in Richmond. I taught with her at Montessori, and then we went to St. Mark together. She started and built up the preschool program there to be the best in the county. There was always a waiting list. She took special needs kids that became a part of our school community and are protected and nurtured by every kid in the school (she has both early childhood and special ed. background). She is part of the spring cleaning. I taught two of Annie’s 5 kids. Now she and Steve are grandparents 3 times with another on the way. Steve was Joe’s favorite of my friends. They would have deep conversations about life and meaning and God-stuff. Annie and Steve are the good guys. We’ll always be friends. We talked and drank margaritas and looked at our futures and talked about our faith. Steve said he could probably get me a low paying job at the water company where I would take bills from one of those sucking up tubes at a drive-up and could read my books all day. That might be the rainbow.