Tomorrow I leave for Louisiana – what fun! The very first session on my schedule is a chapel talk. This brings up memories of an earlier time in my career when I used to go to a lot of huge boarding schools in New England. There was always a chapel talk and my colleagues and I would pull straws to decide who would go stand in front of 1200 indifferent gazes on a dreary Monday morning in a cold, gray building – and actually be inspiring. Or funny. Now, Louisiana is sunny and it is my second visit to the school – I loved the kids there last year and my first chapel talk was a success – it shouldn’t be a source of worry, then, right? I face every assignment with a new insecurity, which I think keeps me vulnerable, something kids recognize and relate to…

So, in ruminating on Monday’s chapel talk I remembered a chapel talk from my youth that absolutely moved me. I should set the stage for you, as it proves that even a cynical person can be affected by a compelling, stirring story. I was 16 and attending a girls Catholic high school. My life had crashed in the spring of 1981, resulting in a hospital stay and my first real attempt at sobriety. My parents enrolled me in this school as a fresh start to repeat my sophomore year. I sometimes wish I had been able to stay there, as it would have been a good situation for me, but alas, I relapsed and left the school after only one quarter. During this short time at this school, we had an assembly one morning in the theatre. As we all giggled into our seats, I heard someone say some priest was going to give a talk – not unusual at a parochial school, and nobody sitting near me seemed excited or interested. A priest came on the stage and very quietly and kindly told us about his work with runaways – kids who had faced great adversity, many of whom had gotten involved in prostitution. This man and the organization he started was completely devoted to reaching out to these teens. They were provided with shelter and coping skills to move away from the destructive lives they were leading. Up until this point, I wrongly assumed that all clergy rejected and shunned anyone who had had any sex that wasn’t approved within a marriage. I also realized that day for the first time that a boy could be a prostitute, too. I don’t know why I hadn’t known this before, but it came as a surprise. Something about this talk just harpooned me – I felt frozen in my seat and when I looked at the other girls, they were also just as riveted. It was a human story about real people that I had never thought about before. A world opened up. Here I was, a cigarette smoking, tattooed girl who had already been in a rehab trying to save my life – people certainly would have thought of me as jaded. In reality, I was just a 16 year old girl in a brown blazer with matching knee socks wondering about the world like everyone else in the room. I went home that day and told my mother all about the priest and his work. I wasn’t the kind of kid who went home and talked about what happened at school.

I still don’t know what I will talk about in chapel on Monday, but I hope whatever it is, the kids go home and just have to talk about it.

I have been too busy milking cows and gazing at Marc Chagall stained glass to update my blog! This is all taking place in Sleepy Hollow, NY, home of the headless horseman and other persons of interest…It’s so fun to be here in the fall (for the beauty) and near Halloween (for the spookiness), as they go wild here with all things pumpkin. The Hudson River Valley reminds me of Heidelberg,

Hudson River Valley by Roberta Wood

Germany. I am not sure the photos illustrate the similarity perfectly, but it gives you something nice to look at while you read…Last week I was in Washington, DC and had a FABULOUS week with 9th graders AND their parents. We held a student/parent interactive meeting and had just about 100% attendance – What a victory. Some schools just have solid parent involvement around wellness issues and I admire them, as other schools advertise like mad and get 4 parents to an evening meeting on student health. I believe parent involvement is part of the culture of a school and becomes a value that keeps trickling down to incoming families. I have started asking schools that have impressive attendance to show me the invitations and describe how they advertise a parent gathering.  The letter is usually sent out nice and early and strongly urges the parent community to participate – they are not afraid to have it sound like an expectation.  They send reminders, have phone trees and feed people when they arrive at the meeting.  The real magic is when kids are enjoying the program so much that they go home and tell their parents they have to come meet me. You can’t buy that. Many of my parent meetings are held in the morning, so parents can drop kids off, come in and have a cup of coffee for an hour. I had one of these this morning at a middle school here in Westchester and it was well attended with bright eyed people.

Heidelberg, Germany taken by me this summer

It seems I have been teaching lots of 8th graders this fall. I like middle school kids – they are so ready, fire, aim! Teenagers are natural people and continue to cheer and inspire me! Next week is Virginia after a brief weekend at home. I can go visit the big, expensive closet I call my house, where I keep my clothes. I think I am spending a total of 8 nights per month at home. A weird, wonderful existence – I do try to enjoy every minute…

The dreaded question. Parents have been asking me how to handle such inquiries from their kids for years and I have always answered from instinct; be truthful. I just came across an editorial in the NY Times that echoes what my heart and head have been telling me for the last two decades. http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/08/talking-to-kids-about-your-own-drug-use/?src=twt&twt=nytimesbelkin I don’t think you have to lie – if your child asks you about your own life, they are looking for the ultimate outcome, not the gory details…I would say as little as possible about the details of your escapades and stick to the discomforts and consequences. It can be a fruitful conversation to let them know that you struggled, too and explain to them why you don’t use now (I’m assuming that’s the case!).  That is the most important message you can give them. On the same token, if you were a non-user in high school, this can be very powerful, as well – tell your child about the joys and challenges of non-use and how you came to that decision.  I think the truth is in order – kids can sniff out a lie or sense you ducking the question anyway…On another note, I just got back from a lovely trip to Baltimore where I had the pleasure of teaching a delightful group of 8th graders. The boys at this Quaker school were especially nice (of course, the girls were nice, too, but that is always the case!). Friends Schools do a nice job with kids’ souls – I told the administrators on my way out that I could be dropped from a spaceship into a class of kids at a Friends school and I would know where I was as soon as the kids opened their mouths. Being kind and respectful is a value in the community and it makes visiting such a school a real treat. They seem to follow Karl Menninger’s advice of “when in doubt, be human.”

A friend just called and asked me what I was blogging about today – I always try to write my blog right after a

Running with boys in Virginia

hearty run when my synapses are still firing. She thought it would be nice to talk about Autumn and how kids arrive at school with a renewed eagerness to learn. My favorite part of Autumn is that it is cross country season and I can run with school teams! That is huge fun and a way to be with kids that is less formal than the classroom…The photo was taken while I ran with the boys varsity team at a beloved school – it was a highlight and something that can only happen in the fall.