Dr. Elizabeth Green

Instructional Designer, Writer, and Free Spirit

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Leaving Shame Behind

May 22, 2016 by Elizabeth 5 Comments

photo iPhone lost in snow

Leaving Shame Behind

I never lose my cell phone. Never. Since I work from a home office and travel frequently, my phone connects me to the office and clients. I need it for my livelihood. While travelling, I keep it close by and check it obsessively for time, flight updates, and messages from home or the office. I keep multiple chargers, one in my travel bag, one in my car, and several at home to keep the juice flowing. I never want to be out of touch when on the road. I never lose my phone until I lost my phone.

I was on my way to a family ski trip. As usual, I checked my phone multiple times while waiting to board. As the plane landed, I reached to turn my phone on to check messages. It wasn’t in the usual places, my pocket, purse, or my laptop case outer pocket. After deplaning, I searched every inch of my laptop bag without success. Since this trip was only for a long weekend, I wanted to spend every moment enjoying the family and the beautiful Rocky Mountains, not trying to locate or disabling a phone. I spent much of the evening contacting the airline lost and found department and the phone company. At bedtime, I shopped online for a new phone and made arrangements to pick it up the following morning at the phone store.

The following morning, the family took the car to the mountain to ski and I called a cab for a ride to pick up my phone, so I could enjoy the rest of the vacation. My cab driver, I’ll call him Luis to protect his privacy, slumped low in the cab, hiding his face behind his dark hoodie. I gave him the destination address for the 15-minute trip and started the usual small talk.

Me: “This is a beautiful city. How do you like living here?”

Luis: “I don’t feel like talking.”

Me: “That’s fine. I understand.”

I remained quiet. Before we reached the end of the block he said, “I thought this would be a good place to live, but I was wrong. It hasn’t been good to me.”  He began pouring out his distress about his health. He had gastrointestinal problems. He had been to multiple doctors, had a colonoscopy, and still no answers. He was sick, miserable, and discouraged.

I told him I had GI issues as well, so much so that I had surgery to remove a portion of my colon. I explained that traditional doctors saved my life, but I had to use functional medicine specialists to find the right help with my diet to get well. Luis said that he was out of money for doctors he spent it all on the tests. He used to be a happy and fun person to be around. Now, he is sick and he is a drag to everyone around him. He said his friends and family would be better off without him.

His words concerned me greatly and I knew I had only a few minutes to talk with him before arriving at our destination. Besides the time constraints, I knew Luis could not hear much chatter, as he was in depression’s pit.  Why I lost my phone became clear to me. I knew I could not hold back telling him about my son’s suicide and there was no time to gently ease into Jay’s story.

I don’t talk to strangers about something as sacred as Jay’s passing. I learned better from watching the horror on peoples faces and experiencing the uncomfortable silence that follows.  When an acquaintance makes small talk about my family, I say we have four children.   Most people don’t want to know details about our large blended-family brood. They don’t ask questions and move the conversation to something else.  I’m relieved.

I told Luis I knew something about depression, as I had been depressed myself and that my son took his own life when he was 16. I further explained, Jay was a school shooter, holding his classmates hostage with a gun, before taking his own life. Luis sat up a little straighter in his seat and lowered his hoodie to hear. He asked questions about my son’s death. I tried to express in a few words the magnitude of grief and guilt a suicide leaves behind for the family, especially the mother.

I told him there was help for his GI issues. There is evidence that the gut creates much of the serotonin, the chemical responsible for depression or feeling good. When the gut is out of balance, some people become depressed. I learned this through my recovery to better health through functional medicine specialists.

Luis asked more questions. He said he was trying to eat right and explained in explicit detail his GI distress. He spoke without embarrassment as someone would to a physician or with another human who understood his distress and the intimate intricacies of a very personal body function. Luis was discouraged because he didn’t have any money left for seeking other types of help.

I asked him if he told the doctors about his depression. He said no. I suggested he go to the emergency room and to explain how he was feeling. They could help. That was the immediate need. He wondered how they could help with depression when the issue was his gut.

Luis:  “They (the doctors) told me there was nothing wrong with me.”

Me: “You are not crazy.  Depression and GI issues are related. The traditional doctors you saw might not know this. The immediate need is to deal with depression and you didn’t tell them about this.”

Louis’ tone turned angry.

Luis: “I went to bed last night and asked for a miracle. Jesus could do a miracle. He could heal me. I asked for a miracle and expected one when I woke up this morning. Jesus could do a miracle and heal me, but he won’t.”

I felt the short ride’s time ticking away.

Me: “You wanted a miracle. Here’s your miracle. I never lose my phone. Never. But I lost my phone yesterday on the way to this city. I did not want to catch a cab this morning and spend my vacation at the phone store. I wanted to enjoy the city and the mountains. Because I lost my phone I am riding in your cab. Who else in this city would understand GI issues like I do, someone who has been there?”

Luis: “No one”

Me: “Who else would ride in your cab that understands GI problems and depression?”

Luis: “No one”

Me: “So there’s your miracle. It doesn’t look like you thought it would. It’s not an immediate healing, but losing my phone and me being in this cab with you is a miracle. Now pray for the next miracle. Look for the next small miracle. Go to the ER. Tell them you are depressed. Ask them to help you. Ask God to send the next right person to you. Sometimes miracles are one small step at a time or the right person at the right time. I know you can get well. I did.”

The cab pulled into the parking lot. I touched Luis’s shoulder and the next miracle was he didn’t recoil. I gave him a card with my contact information. I told him I would have a new phone within an hour and he could call me anytime he needed me. I would listen. I said, “I will pray for you and pray for your next miracle. Please go to the ER today.”

God used my lost phone to connect me with Luis and influence him to seek treatment.  But God also used Luis to speak to me.  I am hesitant to speak about Jay’s passing with those outside my very small circle of friends and family.  There is shame associated with mental illness and suicide. As the parent of a school shooter, I experienced this in a exaggerated way.  The media frenzy, the comments from well-meaning yet ignorant people, and the verbal attacks from just plain mean people left scars.

Most parents of school shooters go into hiding.  However, I was a self-supporting single parent when Jay died.  I couldn’t hide physically.  I had to keep my remaining family afloat financially and emotionally. I continued to work the following years as a teacher, administrator, and instructional specialists.  My fear of public shame and ridicule were compounded by concern of losing my livelihood.  So in a way, my silence was a hiding place. Meeting Luis was my divine cue to speak up.  I’m leaving my shame behind along with my lost cell phone. The new model is better anyway.

Insist on Educational Excellence

February 10, 2015 by Elizabeth 4 Comments

Insist on Educational Excellence
I recently took a trip to nowhere to keep my airline priority status. My friends found it amusing that I would spend my own nickel and a Saturday during the holiday season to keep the status. My previous job assignment required that I travel to multiple schools weekly. Since I spent more time developing curriculum recently, I traveled less and needed three more flying segments between cities to keep my status for another year. Therefore, I flew to a nearby city and returned the same day. Before my work required frequent travel, I didn’t realize all of the perks that came with priority membership. I really would miss those privileges.

Elite status means I don’t have to pay to check my bags, which saves money. I calculated the return on investment for purchasing a trip to nowhere and determined that I would eventually save money by purchasing a short trip. As an elite airline member, I have seats available to me that other passengers do not have. I am able to board earlier than non-elite passengers are. For road warriors looking for a hassle free experience, early boarding allows ease in storing belongings before the bins are full. This means I save time by having my bags nearby and save travel time. On full flights, late arrivals must sometimes stow luggage to the rear of their seat meaning they must wait until the plane clears and schlep to the back of the plane to collect belongings. A delay when trying to make a connecting flight, make it to a meeting, or arriving late at the hotel sometimes makes a difference. When I call on the airline for service, the airline representative greets me by name. My cell phone number is in the database and they move the order of my call higher in the queue in order to help me with rescheduling my flight in the event of a delay. They use my preference information to book an aisle seat and text the information to me.

When I moved from gold to platinum status, I was surprised to find even more perks – perhaps the most important one when it comes to customer service. They mark my checked bags with a priority tag meaning that my bags might be one of the first to arrive on the carousel, saving time to get to the hotel or meeting. Perhaps the most important platinum benefits are a pack of tickets elite members is a packet of printed slips to reward employees for excellent service. I am not sure what they receive from the airline, but it must be good – because they scramble to help elite members, offering snacks, personally delivered information on connecting flights, and checking to see if one is comfortable.

As I travelled that day, I thought about how my perspective changed when I saw the difference in customer service between being a regular flyer and being an elite member. During my career, I have visited hundreds of schools and classrooms. Some children receive an education that is the equivalent of having elite membership. Schools and school districts offer the offer superior sports programs, fine arts and performing arts programs, and superior academics. The schools offer field experiences, exposing students to a world outside of their neighborhood by visiting businesses and industries and behind the scenes tours and speaking with professionals in the field. Some classrooms have amazing guest artists, and trips to the ballet, the symphony, and museums. Some schools have outstanding science, engineering, engineering, and math (STEM) programs with modern science equipment, planetariums, outdoor classrooms, classroom gardens, and partnerships with local industry and colleges and access to STEM professionals as mentors. Privileged students have access to updated technology and adequate computer access for every student so they do not have to fight for computer time or spend time hand writing assignments that they could type in a fraction of the time. It is similar to knowing I have a place to store luggage on the plane or trying to beat other passengers to the storage bin during a late boarding. In elite-type schools, teachers use technology to teach, record grades, help with homework, provide tutorials and extra help resources for students, and communicate with parents.

My work with children in less fortunate situations is challenging. While I find it thrilling to help schools improve, I sometimes have to convince the teachers, school leaders, and district leaders that there are experiences beyond what they know. They attempt to do the best they can with what they have, but have become discouraged when their requests for teaching materials, time to collaborate, and better professional development are turned down. Some believe that their schools are good enough because they have never seen better schools. Their experiences are much like those of my friends and colleagues who think I’m wasting my time and money travelling to nowhere and back. Many educators and parents do not know what students are missing. If they did, they would insist on quality experiences for every child. They would insist that decision makers and legislators fully fund educational efforts.

In communities in which parents expect an outstanding educational experience for their children, they insist that schools have the necessary facilities, technology, equipment, and the latest professional development for staff. Educated parents do not tolerate poor teaching or leadership. Parents expect no less than the best. They use their resources to ensure the school and or the district takes action to improve the situation. They use their political power to press for improvement. When the budget doesn’t allow for what some believe are extras and I believe are essential, such as violin lessons, piano labs, and foreign language training at all grade levels, parents raise funds to provide these perks. When a classroom or school does not provide the proper environment, parents might resort to moving their child to a class with an effective teacher or switch schools to make sure their children have the best possible education.

Every student deserves an elite experience.

A New Page in the Grade Book

January 9, 2015 by Elizabeth 2 Comments

New Year - New Page

New Year – New Page

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the first page in a new journal.  I keep a personal journal and start a new one at the New Year, when I want to move in a new direction for my life, or simply when I run out of pages.  I also keep several project journals for my business projects.  There is something magical and refreshing about having a blank page before me on which I can write anything I want.  I take time to choose a new pen and select the color for the look I want for the first clean, white, page.  I take a few moments and think about the possibilities for my phase of life or project.

As a teacher, I love a new page in the grade book or blank workbook on a spreadsheet.  The new semester is a fresh start for students.  It was a symbol of hope for everyone who wanted a fresh start.  The teacher’s grading practices can either encourage or discourage students eager to start a semester with a clean page in the gradebook.

When my math-phobic daughter took Algebra II, her teacher gave a pop quiz on the second day of class.  Andrea was distraught over a grade of 20 out of 100 points on the quiz.  I assured her that the teacher would not record the grade, as she hadn’t practiced math skills in some time.  The school was on an accelerated block schedule.  Since geometry followed Algebra I in the school’s math sequence, she hadn’t practiced algebra for 1 ½ years.  Her teacher was trying to figure out what the students knew.  Using teacher language, I assumed this was a formative assessment to inform instructional practices.

I was wrong.  The teacher recorded the grade as a major test grade.  So much for having a fresh page in the gradebook!  The unfortunate students, like my daughter, who did not immediately recall previous math skills had to struggle the entire grading period in an attempt to make up for the low grade.  One problem with the numerical grading scale is that a grade of zero or below 50 disproportionately lowers the overall average.  Mathematically, the numerical 0-100 scale is unfair.  A student that makes an F, B, B, A has an average of B-.  A student with similar numerical grades, such as 0, 80, 80, 95 has an average of 64, which is failing in many school districts.

When I asked Andrea’s teacher about her grade, she assured me Andrea would be okay.  If she didn’t ask to leave the class to go the restroom the entire grading period, she would drop the lowest grade in the gradebook.  I couldn’t believe my ears. What did going to the restroom have to do with how well students learned math?

As a school improvement and curriculum specialist, I’ve worked with many teachers, schools, ad districts clinging to the numerical system and defend it as if it is a hallowed practice.  The American school system adopted the numerical grading system as public school populations exploded during the baby boom, as a way to manage grades for large numbers of students.  It was what teachers knew to do at the time, but may have outlived its original purpose.  Some teachers are loyal to practices they experienced as students or practices they learned in their early years of teaching.  Often, they have not examined why they adopted a numerical system.  Some assign grades as a method of keeping students under control.  Grading practices should reflect content mastery rather than student compliance or controlling student behavior.

What are your experiences with fair or unfair grading practices?          

Banishing the Boogieman

October 15, 2014 by Elizabeth Leave a Comment

Boogieman (640x452)

After reading my last blog, My Son Would Have Turned 30 Today, several blog readers sent private messages to me sharing their struggles with their children who have depression or other brain chemistry imbalances. I’m honored when someone trusts me enough to share personal struggles.  It’s tough for a parent to watch their child that they love more than life itself suffer, self-medicate, get in trouble with the law, or self-destruct in some other way.

After Jay’s suicide, I received an overwhelming amount of love and support from my family, my church family, friends, colleagues from the district I worked in, and from colleagues from the school where I taught the previous school year. I received some type of sympathy message via phone call, email, card, letter, or flowers every day for a full year after Jay died.  It is such a blessing to be a recipient of unconditional love.  It’s not the norm for the parent of a school shooter.  Most go into hiding due to the negative media attention and hostility from individuals.

Since Jay’s death was so public, our family’s private life became transparent. There were camera crews covering the events as they unfolded at the school.  They were at my son’s funeral filming our family and other mourners.  My life and my son’s death were food for ratings-hungry media outlets.  Our family was not perfect by any means.  This became clear to anyone who watched or read the news.

Others knowing my frailties and failures liberate me. It was exhausting to pretend I had a perfect life, perfect marriage, and perfect children.  Having the worst happen in public allowed me to see the worst in people and survive.  Consequently, I learned that I was stronger than public ridicule, betrayal, and my own guilt.  I also learned how to forgive in a way I never thought possible.

Once my private pain became public, friends, acquaintances, and sometimes complete strangers felt it was okay to share their very personal problems with me. My life’s events made me seem human and vulnerable.  Like them, I had and still have personal heartaches and struggles.  Some individuals shared that they were in unhappy marriages.  Others confided their worries about their children’s, addictions, legal issues, suicide attempts, depression, or episodes of domestic abuse.  It’s remarkable how those who seem to have charmed lives have more going on than one can see by looking from the outside.

I learned that no one has a perfect life. Marriage partners have conflicts and sometimes divorce.  Families sometimes have job or financial difficulties.  Most families have members with addictions, brain chemistry imbalances, eating disorders, health issues, or simply a child who is more difficult to rear than the others.  Those who go to the greatest lengths to hide life’s imperfections typically have the most to hide.  They are also the ones who hurt the most.

People keep secrets because of guilt and shame. Hiding the secret gives it power.  It is like the boogieman that hides in a child’s closet or under the bed.  He is unknown and unexamined.  He grows in the dark spaces of one’s mind and disappears in the light.  Likewise, guilt and shame gain power in secrecy and lose their power when one turns on the light by sharing the secret with the right person or people.

At one time, polite society members did not talk about certain illnesses, such as breast cancer openly. As a result, women needlessly died from inability to recognize the symptoms or from fear of seeking treatment due to embarrassment or shame.  Mental illness and/or addictions are still taboo subjects.  Those who are sick suffer more than necessary because they are afraid of the sigma of mental illness.  When the pain is too much to bear, some take their own lives.  It is time for discussions about mental health to become as ordinary as discussions about any other illness.  The stigma, shame, fear, and guilt diminish in the light of frank discussions.

What do you think? When is it okay to ask to help?  What should remain private?  

My Son Would Have Turned 30 Today

September 28, 2014 by Elizabeth 13 Comments

Had he lived my son, Jay, would have been 30 today.  Like most Mini thirtieth birthday cake decorated with a single candlemothers who survive a child, I find his birthday bittersweet.  On my firstborn’s birthday, I remember the glorious day he was born and all the events leading up to his birth.  I reminisce about the birthdays that followed, the toddler years when he tore into the piles of gifts.  In later years, birthdays included sleepovers and picnics with friends at the lake.  God blessed me with the honor of being his mom on this earth for 16 years.

The first years after his suicide, birthdays were extraordinarily painful, filled with guilt, remorse, sadness, questions of what if – all mixed with some righteous anger.  As time passed, the birthdays became bearable, mixed with good memories and sadness that he isn’t physically present on the earth to celebrate another trip around the sun.

Jay would have been 30 today.  On this monumental birthday, I celebrate his sweet memory, but I am also curious.  What would his life been like if he had survived depression?  What type of work would he do?  Would he have married?  Would he have children like many of his friends? Would his tall, thin frame have changed to be thick around the middle?  His first niece was born this year (my granddaughter).  I don’t have to guess how he would have felt about that.  He would have been thrilled.  With his delightful sense of humor, he would have found quirky ways to make her laugh.  In my mind, I can see his dimpled smile and the twinkle in his eyes.

Many of my friends and colleagues know that I lost a son to suicide.  However, most do not know that Jay was a school shooter.  Jay held his former English class hostage before taking his own life.  Most parents of school shooters go into hiding. With the support of family and friends and because I was the sole supporter of the family, I continued to work.  I don’t know of any school shooters who had a parents who work in education.  The school district I worked in at the time was supportive of my unique situation and I was able to maintain my job.  Since they knew me before the events, they realized that if such an event could happen to me, it could happen to anyone.  As I moved to other jobs, I didn’t share the information openly until today – Jay’s 30 birthday.

To say the least, Jay found school unbearable on so many levels. Because of Jay’s life and death, I have work very hard to make high schools better places for young people.  The work of school improvement is extraordinarily difficult with long hours.  Those of us in this profession often work late into the evenings and sometimes must work all night or through the weekend to meet deadlines.  The travel schedule and hotel life can be brutal.  Jay’s memory keeps me going.  I hope no other parents to have to celebrate their child’s birthday while wondering what if.

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Hi! I'm Elizabeth. ...a researcher, educator, instructional designer, writer, mom, activist, and optimist, and this is my personal blog.  I mostly write about educational issues, but can get sidetracked into issues that I find interesting or timely.   Disclaimer This is my personal … Read More...

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Hi! I'm Elizabeth. ...a researcher, educator, instructional designer, writer, mom, activist, and optimist, and this is my personal blog.  I mostly write about educational issues, but can get … Read More...

From the Blog

  • Experiencing Shame and Compassion
  • Leaving Shame Behind
  • Avoiding Burnout – Getting Real About Your Schedule
  • Self-care for Teachers: A Lesson from my Peach Tree
  • Insist on Educational Excellence

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