Once a Crimson, always a Crimson...

Once upon a time, I was a Turner Devil. 

I wore green and white. 

I was so proud to represent Jonathan Turner Junior High. 

Then, a mom of one of the 8th graders decided that the Devil mascot was promoting negative religious connotations associated with the word. She went to the School Board and requested a mascot change.

I remember all of the students being surprised, as well as upset, at the possibility of removing our Devil. It had never crossed any of our minds that there needed to be or should be a change to our history. 

Even though I was only in 7th grade, I felt so strongly about keeping Turner as the Devils that I wrote a Letter-to-the-Editor. Seeing my thoughts in the Jacksonville Journal Courier was incredible. It took me several drafts and redrafts to get my ideas on the page, but I felt I represented what several of us felt in the final effort. 

How we were nothing but proud of being Turner Devils was clear. We needed a voice. I've never been afraid of speaking up when I've felt strongly and passionately about an issue. 

Unfortunately, the Board bent under pressure and we were forced to change the mascot. While we became Titans, we were still Turner Devils, through and through. I still think of myself, even today, as a Turner Devil. 

A few weeks ago, I read that the current School Board is looking to change or 'add-to' the current Jacksonville High School Crimson mascot.  A committee has been formed for that purpose. They will bring ideas to the Board. There's a possibility we won't be Crimsons anymore. 

Deja-vu. 

Like many families, several generations of Stewart's can say they were Crimsons. 

While I don't plan to write a Letter-to-the-Editor, I do feel as strongly now as I did all those years ago about messing with tradition. 

I applaud our school district for the plans to finally give our students the facilities they deserve.  Our community clearly supported the effort by passing a referendum to support this initiative. 

However, changing or 'adding-to' our JHS Crimson mascot should not be part of the equation. 

There's no need. 

Focus on the facilities and providing the education to our students. 

Buildings need to be updated. They need to change with the times to give the best we can, educationally. 

Leave it there. 

Mascots are not a part of that equation. 

Mascots are a tradition that we feel in our hearts.

Mascots are a pride we carry long after graduation. 

Mascots bind us as a class, as a school, and as a community. 

Leave the Crimsons alone. 

Sometimes, the urge to change goes too far. 

This is such a time. 

It is what it is. 

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Playing the Race Card...

When will we stop playing the race card and focus on personal responsibility?

In the past few days, news broke that a Springfield school board member believes race was a factor in a basketball game between Jacksonville and Lanphier high schools a week ago.

I happened to be at the Bowl with several family members. 

Watched the entire game. 

At the buzzer, JHS won 58-56.

I saw the technical fouls called against Lanphier players. But, personally, I didn't feel those calls impacted the outcome of the game. But I've never been the kind of person who believes questionable calls hold that power. I feel it all works out in the end. 

It's called a game for a reason. 

The variables that come with any IHSA competition includes the officials. Not a surprise. I'm sure I've heard JHS parents complain about questionable calls when we've been visiting other schools for a contest. I expect to hear grumbling about calls and about officials from both sides. Part of the experience. 

What I did NOT expect, however, was the playing of the race card. 

I have to say I was incredibly surprised to read, according to the Springfield Journal-Register, that board member Judy Johnson pointed out most of the Jacksonville High School players are white, as were the three Illinois High School Association referees, and Lanphier High School's roster is made up of mostly black players. 

Numerous reports say Lanphier has filed a formal complaint with the IHSA over the matter.

I'm so disappointed. 

While the Springfield school district appears to be playing the race card, I feel they are missing out on, ironically, a huge teachable moment for their entire community. 

When will we stop playing the race card and focus on personal responsibility?

As a former IESA and IHSA coach, I feel both the coach and school district need to hold their athletes accountable for their personal actions. 

Take the officials out of the equation. 

We are talking about learning how to handle adverse situations. 

Do we do it gracefully and humbly? Do we learn to recognize that life isn't fair? Do we model good sportsmanship to our teammates and to all those around us? Do we represent our school and our community to the best of our abilities, no matter what the situation? Do we lose as graciously as we win? 

Unfortunately, when athletes aren't held accountable, the very thread of what sports stand for starts to unravel. 

I don't fault the athletes.

They are kids. 

I fault the adults who allow behaviors to go unchecked. 

If there was a foul given that truly shouldn't have been, then the lesson is how to accept the perceived injustice in the best light possible. 

When will we stop playing the race card and focus on personal responsibility? 

Without a doubt, racial prejudice exists in this world. In my opinion, it's one of the most shameful parts of our society.

However, playing the race card simply because white and black athletes come together on a basketball court, amidst questionable calls, is not the way to handle what is merely the natural progression of a well-played game. 

By bringing the issue of race into this, I feel the Springfield school district is doing a tremendous disservice to the students who look to them as advocates of their future. 

This was a game. A hard-fought game. A nail-bitter of a game. An extremely well-played game with talented athletes. 

It was NOT about race.  

It is what it is. 

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Where in the world is Macedonia?

He's going to be gone 27 months. 

This is a first for our family.

We've gone through the college separation for all four of our kids. 

Got used to that. 

We've seen one son spend an entire summer in New York for an internship.

Made it through that. 

This is much different. 

Where in the world is Macedonia? 

It's nearly a world away in Eastern Europe. I had to ask. Not sure I've really heard of Macedonia except in passing. 

Now, I'm going to learn everything I can about it. 

Our oldest son will be joining the Peace Corps this September and will enter into a commitment which will keep him from home until December of 2018. 

Although, in the back of my mind, I always knew this day would come...one of our four kids moving somewhere difficult to visit...I wouldn't want anything else.  

It's the natural progression of his life. 

Our first-born child, Braxton has always been an old soul. He's never been the typical kid. Even now, at 25, he often surprises us with the depth of his thoughts and his vision for his life. His need to do for others. Way beyond his years. 

He's endured a lot of kidding from all of us when he goes into his monologues about world issues. He has such strong and developed views. Thoughtfully created and executed. But that's what makes him who he is. 

We're going to miss every part of him. 

He's been the leader of our 'Four B's' and watches over his brothers and sister like it's his job...because I think he feels it is. He has such a strong bond with his siblings that he has worked, tirelessly, to be the best possible role model for them that he can be. He's succeeded. 

Not that it's always sunshine and rainbows, of course. Braxton has been known to give some now infamous 'lectures' to Blaize, Brody, and Bentley when he feels they need it. Ed and I laugh that it feels like he's a third parent. He often does a better job at it than us. 

We're going to miss his guidance and wisdom. 

We're going to miss his fierce loyalty to our family. 

Watching Braxton move to St. Louis a couple years ago when he became a Teach For America educator, I felt such pride that he wanted to make a difference for the 4th graders in the Walnut Park neighborhood. 

His school was only a few blocks from the Ferguson police shooting of Michael Brown. The world wide attention drawn to the area only heightened the strain added to his job. I'd watch my phone for texts or calls from Braxton. Hoping he was safe and his students were safe. It's one thing to see the turmoil on the news and quite another to know your child is living amid it all...trying to teach kids from the neighborhood in a locked-down school.

I had no idea how this experience would change him.

He has a greater compassion and understanding for what students need and deserve. He can handle all types of situations. Normal and surreal. He has worked in an area few would even drive thru. He has connected to families in a way I couldn't have imagined. He has immersed himself in the school community riddled with many strikes against it. 

And his students...well, I can share that Braxton told us the hardest thing he has ever had to do was tell his class that he was joining the Peace Corps and wouldn't be back at school in the fall. 

He said they cried together for an hour.

THAT is what change looks like.

I told him the fact these kids cried because he wouldn't be in their lives anymore shows me how they've come to rely on him, trust him, respect him, and love him. This group of kids isn't easy to reach. He was able to break thru their glaring differences of upbringing and circumstance and become a true educator to them. He's become their advocate.

Brax has no idea how his couple of years teaching those kids will impact them for the rest of their lives. 

Brax has no idea how his couple of years teaching those kids has impacted his life. 

He's become a different person.

Now, as he looks forward to moving to the country of Macedonia, he'll once again be teaching. 

New students, new parents, and a completely new culture. 

The learning will begin again. 

For everyone. 

As a parent, I remember holding him in my arms and praying to God that I wouldn't screw him up with my inexperience. For some reason he was given to us and I knew it was a true gift. I suppose it's normal to feel inadequate when raising our children. There's no manual to read on child-rearing. You go with your gut. Trial and error. Braxton was meant to be our first. He allowed us the freedom to make mistakes and he persevered in spite of us. 

I love this boy who first made me a mom. He gave me my inaugural glimpse of the unexplainable connection between a mother and a child. 

 

I look at him now and can't believe it. I still see the little boy. Yet, before me, stands a man who has already worked to change his small part of the world. 

I'm in awe. 

Leaving the United States, he'll touch a new part of the world. I know he is grateful for the opportunity and ready for the experience. 

For our family, though, we'll miss several holidays, vacations, and birthdays with him. While he'll see Blaize graduate with his Master's in May, he'll miss both Brody's and Bentley's college graduations while he's gone. Those will be the hard moments...not to have him here for his siblings monumental achievements. 

But we know our Braxton. 

His heart will be with us. Distance won't change that. 

He has a journey to take...students to teach. Change to implement. 

My heart will break saying goodbye to him and watching him walk away. Tears will flow. 

But I will continue to learn, through him, how one person can make a difference. 

I have no doubt I've become a student of Braxton's, too.

And that makes it all worth it. 

I love you, Braxy Poo. We all love you. 

It is what it is. 

Mom

Jefferson Elementary and the McDannald's...

I was 9 years old. 

My best friend, Cindy Naum, lived right across the street from me on Green Forest Drive. 

I had gotten the fourth grade teacher, Miss Fisher, that I had wanted since kindergarten. 

Life was good for me at Bowles Elementary School in Fenton, Missouri. 

Then my parents broke it to my brother and me that dad had taken a job in some far-away place called Jacksonville, Illinois. 

I remember my brother asking only one question. He wanted to know if people in Illinois cheered for the St. Louis Cardinals like our family had done for generations in Missouri. 

It was an extremely scary time. Even though we were only crossing one state line and driving a couple of hours...I was leaving the only home I'd ever known. Everything was unfamiliar. 

My dad had taken a job as principal of one of Jacksonville's elementary schools. 

Jefferson Elementary School was on North Clay Street. The building was absolutely beautiful. Large and impressive sitting on almost an entire block of its own, it was the center of the neighborhood. I thought it looked like a castle. 

I came from a school atmosphere in a suburb of St. Louis that was filled with kids from all over the area. Numerous neighborhoods pooled into the school I attended. It wasn't a true neighborhood 

school. There's no way I could have known all the kids who went to that school. There were too many. 

Jefferson was a neighborhood school, however, and it was a 'family' atmosphere like I'd never seen. Everyone knew everyone. 

Last night, Ed and I went into Kottage Kafe for a late dinner. Sitting at a table near the door was a couple I hadn't seen for years. They were a husband and wife who, merely by seeing them, immediately transported me back to when I was 9 and first came to Jacksonville. 

They were Jefferson Elementary School personified. 

Joe and Becky McDannald looked up and saw me.  I was surprised at the emotions I felt. The McDannald's mean comfort and acceptance. They were such important people to me when I met them over forty years ago. 

We talked for quite awhile. Catching up and talking about our families. Ed and I sat at a table close to theirs and we continued talking even after our food had come. 

It was when they started to leave that I knew I needed to get up and tell them goodbye.  As I first gave Joe a hug and then Becky, I became choked up and felt tears welling up in my eyes. 

These two people were so welcoming to my family when we knew no one. They not only volunteered at Jefferson at countless fundraisers, but they also welcomed my dad, my mom, my brother, and me into their home. We felt as if we were a part of the Jefferson neighborhood. So much time was spent with them and their family. 

Although I think of them from time to time, actually seeing them was overwhelming. I noticed tears in Becky's eyes, as well. I know we were both remembering the magic of those times shared so many years ago.

When they left, I told Ed I was surprised by the emotions that came to the surface by seeing the McDannald's. 

Maybe it's because I could see my family the way it was then. My mom, now gone for nearly 14 years, was young, beautiful, and full of life. We were embarking on what would become years and years of happiness in Jacksonvillle. 

I was 9 years old again in that moment. 

Even though I'm now a grown woman, Joe and Becky make me feel the way I did when I first met them. 

God Bless the McDannald's and the love they showed my family. 

I will be forever grateful for Jefferson Elementary and what it meant in my life. Looking at the picture of Jefferson evokes a warmth deep within my heart. 

The building no longer houses District 117 students but those walls still hold the laughter and friendship of all of us who once passed through its doors. 

It is so much more than a building. It was a neighborhood symbol for families, like the McDannald's, bound by what Jefferson represented during those years. It was the cornerstone of that community. 

We can't duplicate those times.

We can't duplicate those feelings. 

But, the memories are ours to keep. 

It is what it is. 

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Facebook...Proceed With Caution

Last night, I broke an unwritten, self-imposed, rule I had set for myself. 

I commented. And commented. And commented on a Facebook post regarding the Village of South Jacksonville. And I was answering in my capacity as a Village Trustee. 

Certainly, I have answered questions and shared, what I consider,

pertinent information regarding the Village before now. 

This was different. 

In all fairness, I began by answering an original post when I knew the person who posted it did not have all the information they needed to form an opinion. I was simply trying to set the record straight. That part was fine. No foul. No flags thrown.

However, later in the evening, a notification popped up from that same post. 

Different person now. Asking what seemed to be a straightforward question. 

I answered. 

I have always been a person who says what she feels. As an educator and a former coach, I constantly urged the same from the young people who crossed my path over my decade or so in the public school system. 

Communication is essential in any and in all types of relationships. 

While I certainly do not take back anything I said and nor do I regret it, what I am bothered by is how quickly I let myself get sucked into an agenda which was not my own. 

When you answer posts on Facebook, you run the risk of the never ending cycle of messages. One leads to another and yet another. There's no order and certainly no rhyme or reason. Focus is lost. Original points are muddled. Lines are blurred. People talk to each other in tones they would never use if conversing face-to-face. Disrespectful and accusatory tones. There's sarcasm and innuendo and that is never an adult way to communicate. Especially when you are talking about the Village of South Jacksonville. 

While this particular exchange didn't get to an extreme point, I did feel berated because I was asked something I will not do and was accused of not be transparent as a result. Bullying tactics. I've seen them many times before in schools. 

Yes, I finally stopped the exchange. 

But, the stark reality is, I let myself get sucked in. 

Moving forward, I only want to address that one small part of the entire exchange last night. 

I was asked to disclose a letter I received as a Trustee during the January 7 Board meeting. I was urged to just 'post it' on Facebook or send it to the person I was talking with to satisfy their need to see it immediately and prove something. Absolve the Village of something. I said I would not. 

I noticed this morning, I had been accused by another as using a 'power play' by not providing the letter as requested because it was public record. 

So we're completely clear from this point on, any materials I receive as a trustee are mine. I have not and will not share these materials merely because someone asks me or because they may or may not be public record. No one sees my Board packets nor anything I receive during a meeting. I have been happy to share the Board Agendas with people who hadn't gotten a chance to look at Village Hall (where they are posted) or online. I see no issue here because it's an Agenda which, by the time I receive it, is already publicly available. This is the only exception.

As for making a power play? 

Here's the power I see I have as a Trustee. 

I have the POWER OF MY VOTE. 

Therefore, any and all materials given to me are for THAT purpose. 

If someone wishes to obtain Village documents, we have a process for that. Trustees are not part of that process. We have a Village Clerk who handles any and all requests. 

As for transparency, everyone's perception is their reality, of course. 

Here's what I know. This is my reality.

I have taken the time to talk with several Village residents who have concerns/comments to see what their issues are. That's my job. To hear all sides. That's transparency. 

I don't feel I can make an informed vote without doing my homework. I have done it and will continue to do so. Depending on the topics to be discussed, I can spend hours preparing for a meeting. That's transparency. 

I am accessible to whomever wishes to talk with me. That's transparency. 

If you attend the meetings, you'll notice I stay inside long after the meeting is done, in case someone wants to talk. That's transparency. 

I make my point of view known at Village Board meetings. That's transparency.

That being said, I have no desire to engage in, what I consider to be, pointless politically-based banter with my peers on Facebook. 

Why do I feel they are pointless? Because nothing can be accomplished in this context. 

So, today I reaffirm that I will continue to use this medium for writing this Blog, endless pictures of my family, my favorite quotes or sayings, 'Happy Birthday' wishes to all those I'm fortunate to have in my life, and simple updates regarding the Village, among other random things. 

Isn't that what Facebook was originally designed for? 

It is what it is. 

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You're Gonna Miss This...

There's a well-know country song, sung by Trace Adkins, called, 'You're Gonna Miss This.'  

All four of our kids were home for their Christmas breaks recently. Our oldest, Braxton, is a teacher in St. Louis. His district was out for the holidays. Our three younger are still in Champaign completing their degrees. Blaize will soon be done with his Master's, while Brody and Bentley are working on their Bachelor's degrees. They had an even longer break than Braxton and were home for over a month. 

It's such a special time for us all. 

We reconnect as a family. 

We rekindle the closeness that we lose by living apart so many months of the year. 

It's a time I truly treasure. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

Our house comes to life with their arrival. It's a whirlwind from the second they come thru the door until they leave again.  Being empty-nesters for several years now, it's always a bit jarring when they come. 

 

I seem to forget how having six people in a house can be so different from having two. 

Lots of clothes lying around. 

The kitchen 'open' at all hours. 

My stove never clean. 

Running the dishwasher and doing the laundry on a daily basis. 

And the groceries we go through! How soon I forgot the sheer volume they eat. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

As the break wore on, I kept finding myself thinking of that song and some of the lyrics.

'You're gonna miss this. You're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.'

Every parent feels it. We blink and our babies are grown. Our kids are adults and I miss the babies, the toddlers, and the young adults they once were. That won't change. 

'These are some good times, so take a good look around...you may not know it now...But, you're gonna miss this.'

For several years now, our kids friends from U of I come to stay with us over break. Tradition dictates they go to eat at Leo's Pizza and then come back for game night and an entire night of doing what kids in their 20's do. Blaring music. Games. Alcohol. Laughter. Inside jokes. Storytelling. Friendship. 

We love it.

Most years, we also have JHS alum and the token Routt alum, too. Old high school friends are always welcome, of course. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

This year, I realized that even though I had always thought of this song in terms of what I was missing because our kids were growing up, that this song applied to our kids and to their friends, as well. 

Blaize will graduate in May as will several of the kids who came to visit. Brody will graduate in December. Others will, too. 

Their lives are about to change. 

They will soon leave college behind and may end up in other parts of the country and won't be able to come see us during Christmas break again.

I snapped this picture as I was heading to bed that night. Amid all the laughter and smiles, I couldn't help but feel a tug at my heart. 

I knew what they would one day think as they looked back on this picture of that night. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.' 

To all these wonderful kids that Ed and I met by chance, I can't thank you enough for the joy you've brought to our kids and to us. 

Cherish these moments you have together this final semester...this final year. Your group will change as graduation comes and goes. 

'You're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.' 

I pray you keep in touch with each other. You'll have other friends in your life, of course, and may not see each other as often.

But you'll never again have this group.

'These are some good times, so take a good look around...you may not know it now...But, you're gonna miss this.'

All the best to you. 

Don't forget Jacksonville and the Stewart family. 

I know you're forever etched in my memory. 

And I am certain...that I'm gonna miss this.

It is what it is. 

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On The Right Track...

It took longer than I had imagined. 

I knew it would come when it was supposed to happen. I believe in that. I'm not always the most patient person, so the fact that it took almost two full years was sometimes frustrating. 

When you leave a job that you love, I think there's a mourning period. I didn't want to walk away. But certain issues are non-negotiable to me. So, I left. I've totally embraced the months I've had at home and I've never regretted the decision I made to leave.  

As I watch our four kids plan their lives and talk about their future careers, I am sure to tell them to find a job that they love. I can't think of anything better or more important to say. 

I've been fortunate to have jobs that I truly loved. I've worked with wonderful people who have become life-long friends. 

I've also had jobs which challenged me in some ways which weren't positive. I've worked with people who didn't become friends and I wouldn't necessarily want to see again. 

But, I'm grateful for each and every job thru the years. 

At this point in my life, I was looking for the job that didn't seem like a job. One that makes me want to get out of bed each morning. One that reignites the passion I have for working with kids. One that allows me to work with people I can admire and can call my friends. 

I want the perfect job. 

Several months ago, two of my husband's cousins came to our house and told me about a new daycare that they were opening with their friend. All three teachers in the Winchester school district, they had decided to leave the public school arena and go into business for themselves.

They asked me to be a teacher for them.

Not only would I be able to utilize my teaching degree, but I could work with two women who became family when I married my husband all those years ago. These cousins turned into my friends and I couldn't imagine a better atmosphere in which to work. 

I jumped at the chance. 

2016 brings not only a new year and a new business for Monica, Rachel, and Amy...but it brings a new chapter into my life, as well. 

The waiting is over. 

It took longer than I had imagined. 

But now I can say my life is On The Right Track.  

It is what it is. 

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