Month: August 2016

The Heart of Civilization

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

challenges_for_first_year_teachers-e1440768693502When I was a child I kept my toys in cardboard boxes from the grocery store. I had one that held my dolls along with “furniture” made from an assortment of smaller containers. Another stored a hodgepodge of items like a jump rope and roller skates. Then there was my school box, a collection of books, paper and pencils that I used to pretend that I was a teacher. I kept it at the ready for any occasion in which I was able to entice my friends or relatives to participate in my favorite make believe game of being an educator. I suppose that I was always destined for working inside a classroom. Being a teacher was more than just a job. It was a vocation, something that I dreamed of doing for as long as I am able to remember.

When I was still a student my teachers were highly respected. The women’s liberation movement was in its infancy and few females worked outside of their homes. When they did, they chose traditional professions. Chief among them was teaching. The best and the brightest from the feminine half of the population were often drawn to education where they shared their knowledge and skills. I studied under the tutelage of women who might have run companies in today’s world. They were brilliant and inspiring. I knew early in life that I wanted to accomplish something significant when I worked and I believed that teaching the next generation was mankind’s most noble and important occupation. I did not choose to be a teacher so that I might pay my college bills or because I was not intelligent enough to master other fields of study. I wanted to be a teacher because I desired to do meaningful work. I had been inspired by brilliant women who had made learning exciting and I thought it would be quite wonderful to follow in their footsteps.

Over the course of my career I witnessed the decline of respect for teachers. As women overcame barriers to succeed in traditionally male occupations education became for many a less and less desirable career path. The old joke that “those who can’t, teach” became a standby for questioning the credibility of those who entered schools of education. We began to revere the women who studied business, engineering, medicine and ridicule those who “settled” for learning how to teach. It became more and more popular for schools to hire cadres of candidates from the ranks of Teach for America where individuals came from ivy league universities with impressive resumes. They donated their exceptional talents to some of our worst schools sometimes even staying beyond the two years required to eliminate much of their college debt. They became the public heroes of education while those who had purposely chosen to major in education were often viewed as inferior.

There came a time when even members of my extended family would consider what might have been had I chosen a more exciting and profitable career. They would note that I would have been an outstanding doctor or an incredible lawyer as though in being a teacher I had somehow missed the opportunity to fully express my talents and my destiny. Strangers who inquired about my life upon first meeting me would suddenly and noticeably lose interest when I revealed that I was a teacher. Often they would launch into an indictment of what they saw as a broken system for educating our youth and wonder that I would actually choose to be part of something so hopelessly inferior.

I had to learn to ignore the naysayers and to bear the wounds from the slings and arrows that are invariably aimed at educators. Still, I so loved what I did as a teacher that I could think of nothing more wonderful than meeting a new group of students each August and enhancing their knowledge of mathematics during the course of the following ten months. I understood what really happened inside classrooms. I retained the magic and the joy even in the most challenging situations. I watched the transformation of my pupils and felt the power of learning motivate them to follow their own dreams. There was no amount of money or prestige that would have given me as much satisfaction as I felt watching my charges grow and become more confident because of my efforts.

I feel a sense of pride in watching my former students become accomplished adults. They are part of a new generation that will carry out the work that drives the world forward. I know in my heart that my time with them played a part in their evolution. Seeing them succeed is the grandest form of payback for my efforts.

Whenever I learn that one of my “kids” has chosen to become a teacher or play a supporting role in education I am especially elated. Over the years I have seen many of my most outstanding students opt to become exceptional educators. I celebrate not just for them but for the world because I know just how truly amazing they are. It is as though I have been able to pass the torch of learning that has always burned so brightly in my heart. I know firsthand the joys and the accomplishments that lie ahead for them. I realize how difficult their pathways will be and how the rewards that they receive will most often be intangible. If they truly love their jobs the way I always have they will not require approval to realize the magnitude of the impact that they will have on all of society.

This year I know of several young people who will stand at the front of classrooms for the very first time. Instead of gazing up at me for guidance they will have youngsters looking to them for knowledge. It has become their time to lead. I have little doubt that each of them will be a resounding success. I know them to be of exceptional mind and spirit and they will ultimately become rock stars in their professions.

If I were to give them one bit of advice it would be to hold their heads high no matter what kind of chatter they may hear. Teachers are the foundation of all that mankind accomplishes. We show our children how to read and to think. We help them to reach out to the universe. Without teachers there would be no doctors or lawyers or engineers. Giants stand on our shoulders and we are happy to help them to reach the heights. The naysayers may criticize us and even attempt to demean us but we know better. Our profession forms the bedrock upon which all of society depends. Education is the heart of civilization. “Those who can” are the chosen ones who teach. 

We Are the Engine of Commerce

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

happy-customerLast week my husband and I decided to try a local Pollo Tropical for lunch. We had heard from several people that the menu in this fast food chain was exceptionally good. Sadly we never had even a taste of their wares. Instead, we entered the restaurant and almost instantly left before moving past the door. The sight that greeted us was disgusting beyond measure. Dirty dishes and trash were piled high on several of the tables. The floor was littered with trash and crumbs. In other words the place was filthy and nobody appeared to be making any sort of effort to rectify the situation. We both agreed that we were not going to spend our money on food that came from such a disgusting place. We wondered how the kitchen in the back might look if the most visible section of the eatery was in such a state of disarray. Our imaginations painted a dismal picture.

I am admittedly a cleanliness freak. I will lose my appetite in a millisecond if I find a hair in my food or a roach skitters across the floor. I am literally unable to eat in an unsanitary environment. I want to be assured that the people in charge are at least making an effort to keep things as pristine as possible. I like going to the Five Guys burger chain because I can clearly see the folks preparing the food. They wear gloves and somehow manage to keep the area looking pristine while still quickly providing me with a custom designed meal. I will pay extra to go somewhere that has high standards but will drop a place in a New York minute if I see evidence of dirt and grime and I don’t mind informing the management of eateries that their hygiene is unsatisfactory. If they do something to improve I am always willing to try them again but if they ignore my comments then they are quite literally dead to me.

I realize that the employees of most fast food restaurants work for extremely low wages but I do not believe that this fact gives them the excuse to neglect their duties. I used to enjoy dining at a Panera Bread in Pasadena because a young man with disabilities was in charge of cleaning the tables and the floor there. He took great pride in his work and everything was so clean that it sparkled. He was in constant motion around the room picking up stray pieces of paper and reaching under furniture to sweep up even the tiniest crumb. He did so with a big smile on his face and never failed to greet each of the guests as they arrived and wave goodbye as they left. Little wonder that the place was always packed. Their secret weapon was not so much the food as this exceptional young man who was so dedicated to his job.

Those who manage businesses in the service industry sometimes forget that everything that they and their employees do or don’t do contributes to the success or failure of the enterprise. Most people have limited funds and when they choose to spend their hard earned money somewhere they expect to get a good product. Restaurants not only must provide tasty food but need to do so in an atmosphere that inspires confidence that sanitary health standards are continually in place. I simply cannot understand how routines become so lax that nobody appears to be minding the store.

My husband isn’t as concerned about messiness as I am. His pet peeve is being virtually ignored by clerks who are busier discussing working conditions with fellow employees than paying attention to him as he makes purchases. He spent a great deal of his career in the retail banking business and his forte was making customers happy. He insisted on certain standards of behavior from his employees. He strove to keep lines short and interactions happy. He was generally beloved to the people who entrusted their money to him. He carefully chose and trained his workers and began by being respectful to them so that they in turn might be courteous to the people they served.

Unfortunately there are far too many times when clerical people give the impression that they wish that we would just go away and leave them to their conversations. They are surly and inattentive. They behave as though they would rather being doing anything but helping us to make a purchase. Their attitudes do little to encourage us to return in the future. There are too many alternative places that offer the same products but do so with helpful employees for any of us to accept unsatisfactory customer service.

So many stores now offer discounts with coupons. Sometimes its difficult to keep up with all of the paper and other times I don’t even know that it is even available. When I shop in a store where the salesclerk actually helps me to get the best possible deal you can bet that I take note and return again and again. I’ve had delightful people show me where to find the discounts online. Others have split the transaction into multiples in order to provide me with the most savings. I laugh when one of them winks and pulls a coupon from under the counter to help me out. The employees who take the time to go out of their way to be certain that I ultimately get the best possible product for the lowest price are true sales people. They fully understand that it takes effort to keep customers and they are willing to do whatever is needed to make me happy.

We live in a dog eat dog world. To stand out from the ordinary most retail establishments whether they be offering food or goods or services have to be just a bit better than their competition. It takes more than the ordinary to get people to stand in line for barbecue in the Texas heat but there are people who have accomplished that. I watch businesses founder while others thrive. The difference between success and failure almost always can be found in the attitudes of the staff. If they project a caring spirit and a sense of pride in being excellent the customers will invariably notice and reward them with their loyalty. It isn’t that difficult to keep the tables clean in a restaurant or to pay attention to someone who is making a major purchase but those little nuances often go undone even though they really do matter.

They say one unsatisfied customer will ultimately result in the loss of many more. All of us talk with each other. Word spreads like wildfire. I know that I have already mentioned my unfortunate experience with Pollo Tropical to a number of folks. If they tell the people that they know a mini boycott will begin to form. It doesn’t take too many such chain reactions for a business to take a dive. At the same time, a favorable experience leads to word of mouth recommendations that spur growth.

I have learned that most businesses appreciate our comments and generally will attempt to do better if we take the time to alert them to problems. We should also commend the people who provide us with pleasant experiences. Just as those in the service industry should never take us for granted we too have a certain responsibility to keep management informed. We are the engine that drives commerce and we have the power to keep it running smoothly.

One Size Rarely Fits All

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

teacher_block_scheduleMorning time is still quiet in my neighborhood. The big yellow school bus that stops just outside of my living room window won’t be picking up children until next week. Nonetheless today virtually every school teacher in the state and a significant number of students are officially back on duty for the new school year. Thus begins the annual effort to educate our youth accompanied by the criticisms of our educational system that are certain to come from parents and pundits, professors and proletariat. Everyone has an opinion when it comes to how best to teach our children and for as long as I have been associated with that profession most of the critiques have leaned toward the negative. In spite of all of our discussions it sometimes seems as though we never quite escape from the sense that somehow we have failed our teachers and our kids.

Bashing our schools and the hard working individuals who man the classrooms inside them is a perennially favorite topic of office seekers who lay claim to having the magical answers that will instantly solve all of the problems that plague our educational system. Of course the truth is that they and many of those who vote for them oversimplify both the perceived difficulties as well as the solutions. Only those who have spent enough time inside a classroom doing the heavy lifting have a true concept of what happens from day to day and few of them are ever consulted for ideas.

It has been suggested by those who analyze such things that it is only after at least five years of experience that a teacher is truly battle tested. While there are naturals and rock stars within the teaching profession just as in sporting events, their true greatness usually doesn’t exhibit itself until they have garnered a thousand days of dealing with a variety of students. The laws of probability make it likely that the more tested educators will have encountered both rewarding and challenging situations. These experiences will either have enhanced their abilities or encouraged them to choose a different profession. Teaching is so difficult from day to day that few who lack the necessary determination and skills are willing to stay for more than two or three years. Sadly there is a tendency in today’s world to promote sorely unprepared individuals to leadership positions based only on a couple of good years in the trenches along with credentials from top rated universities. In far too many schools the leaders know far less than their battle tested underlings. Their experiments often lead to both a loss of talented teachers and dire consequences for students.

I have walked thousands of miles in a teacher’s shoes. I’ve worn out my feet and my bladder moving around classrooms and monitoring hallways. I’ve been observed by my superiors just as I have observed other educators. I’ve had good days and bad and seen excellence and failure. I suspect that I know a bit about how best to teach our young but not really enough to tout myself as an expert. Still I have a few ideas that seem to point in the right direction for improvement of our systems. 

Several years ago I worked at South Houston Intermediate. There were times when I had so many students that I struggled to fit the desks inside my classroom. I had already learned that the problems that crop up are increased exponentially with the addition of each student after around twenty five. My finest teaching moments always came when I had a group of around twenty to twenty two kids. I had enough time and energy to provide them with a more individualized experience.

Many students need extra attention in order to learn. Pacing of a lesson to include one on one interventions is crucial, particularly in subjects like mathematics. If a teacher has thirty students for fifty five minutes it is often impossible to provide the necessary time to those who are struggling to understand a concept. Removing only five students from the equation is likely to make the situation more doable. It is a fact that smaller class sizes improve the odds that more individualized instruction will happen and less time will be spent putting out classroom management fires.

A few years back the powers that be decided to make South Houston Intermediate a seventh and eight grade campus and to move the sixth graders to a different building. The difference in the general atmosphere is astounding. Movement in the hallways is more fluid with fewer altercations and misunderstandings occurring without the crowding that existed when I worked there. Students are more likely to be on time for the beginning of each period. There are fewer of them in each area of the building. Class sizes are smaller. The change has created a much happier place for everyone but most importantly it has given each and every student and teacher more opportunity to interact. It is less likely that someone will fall through the cracks than when we were crammed inside the school like sardines.

There are now curriculum specialists on campus to assist teachers in every subject area as well. They are individuals with many years of experience who know the challenges that teachers face. Their goal is to alleviate many of the time devouring activities that distract educators from the heart of their work. When those who teach become paper pushers their students suffer. The facilitators at South Houston work alongside the classroom instructors to ensure that students are getting the best of their teachers’ energy and talent. The educators feel less isolated and alone in dealing with the many challenges that they encounter from day to day. The specialists are available to mentor, guide and help rather than create more work for often beleaguered teachers. The system creates a more dynamic and student centered school.

Reducing the size of schools and providing teachers with dedicated and expert facilitators are simple ideas that help to place the focus on what is most important, the individual student. There really is no one size fits all in instruction. The best teachers are adept at quickly shifting gears as the situation demands. They know the strengths and weaknesses of every child who depends on them. Watching them from one moment to another reveals that they are fluid and expert in creating unique lessons that enhance the experience of everyone. When given the right tools, support and optimal numbers of students the results are often magical. Education is seen at its best. Sadly such supports exist in very few schools.

Those who make decisions regarding our schools spend millions and millions of dollars each year and often miss the mark. They waste precious resources on trends that make promises that are unlikely to be fulfilled. They purchase tools that will quickly be broken and outdated without providing the desired results. They train and retrain teachers in methods that supposedly work for all but which fall far short of classroom realities. Perhaps if they were instead to give teachers the gifts of time and space they might find that everyone is more productive and able to reach desired goals.  

The Simones

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

simone-biles-simone-manuel_mq9r77ikg0jq1jtwm8xlwuccrThe Houston Metropolitan area sprawls over more than five hundred square miles. It’s as flat as a pancake making its resemblance to a patchwork quilt rather striking. It is home to the most diverse population in the United States partially because of its proximity to a busy port but mostly due to an abundance of jobs and moderate housing prices. Even with its humid sub tropical climate, air conditioning makes it a great location for living and working so that people from all parts of the world have chosen it as a place to raise their families.

On any given weekend Houston area parents are out in force watching their little ones participate in sporting events. The sound of cheering resonates from soccer fields to baseball diamonds, natatoriums to gymnasiums. As a grandmother and godmother to very active children I have traveled from the Houston suburbs of Sugarland to Magnolia to watch the youngsters compete. I’ve watched them race around a track and get their noses crushed into the dirt of a football field. I’ve sat through days long swim meets and on occasion carted them to and fro from practices. I’ve watched them grow and mature into the sports of their choosing as they specialize and become more and more adept.

I have two grandsons, Benjamin and Eli, who have excelled at every athletic effort they have tried. They have been outstanding swimmers since they were barely five years old. Early on they were members of the Greatwood Gators summer swim team in Sugarland along with their older brothers who taught them all of the strokes and the secrets to diving into the pool. The two boys showed such promise that they decided to join the First Colony USA swim team where they now practice at least five days a week rain or shine, hot or cold. Their calendars are full as they participate in meets and camps across the region and the state along with the friends and role models that they have made along the way. It was in this way that they met another swimmer who was like a big sister to them. Her name is Simone Manuel and she has at times both helped and inspired them as they have slowly risen through the ranks of competitive swimming.

Benjamin and Eli understand as well as anyone how much dedication and hard work is needed to become a champion. They strive continually for the possibility of shaving hundredths of a second off of a race time. They compete not so much with others as with themselves. They are individuals and members of a team that encourages one another and celebrates victories together. Last night one of their own swam in the Olympics in Rio. They and their whole family and all of Sugarland and the Houston area were cheering Simone Manuel as she won the gold with an Olympic record, becoming the first African American woman to medal in swimming. I can only imagine how breathtaking and motivational this moment was for them. Simone had shown them that a hometown girl can become the best in the world. 

It was an exceptionally emotional moment for Simone and the rest of us weren’t that far removed from her feelings. Many of us cried along with her. We knew full well how much courage and effort it had taken for her to reach this pinnacle. We understood how much sacrifice she and her family have made. We also knew that she was a champion for our city as well, representing the true spirit of our town. It was a stunning victory that lit up Facebook and Twitter all across the city of Houston.

Simone Manuel’s feat of daring might have been reason enough to celebrate had she been the lone winner from the Houston area but on the very same day another Simone  was also in contention for a medal. Simone Biles lives in Spring, a northern suburb of Greater Houston, with her mom and dad. She is a tiny five foot eight ball of strength and delight. Since she was a small child she has been tumbling and honing the skills of a gymnast. She demonstrated a natural talent early on but it was her fierce dedication to the sport that made her a standout. Slowly but surely she rose through the national and then the world rankings until she had become known as perhaps the greatest gymnast of all time. Yesterday she proved once and for all that she is indeed the best of the best. She easily clinched the gold to be named the best all around women’s gymnast in the world.

Just as with Simone Manuel, all of the Houston area was cheering unabashedly for Simone Biles. We marveled at her athleticism and the sheer poetry of her skills. She seems to fly higher than any of her competitors. She is a whirling dervish who is able to leap and spin and twist and turn as easily as the rest of us walk from one spot to another. She is a miracle in our midst, a tiny but mighty young woman who seemingly defies gravity and all the rules of physics. Mostly though she makes us all so very proud to be Houstonians and Americans.

Simone Biles and Simone Manuel, the two Simones, represent the very best of who we are as people. We certainly need them at this stage of history. Of late it has been all too easy to become cynical and discouraged about the future of our country. When we witness two such remarkable individuals we recall all that is so very good and important about our nation. We are reminded by them of the work ethic that makes us all great. We realize the love and support from their parents that helped them to reach the pinnacle of their endeavors. Yesterday we witnessed irrefutable evidence that the future of our city and our country is still in very good hands in little corners all across the land. We celebrate with the two Simones not only because they are indeed great but also because they have restored our faith at the very time that we may have needed it most.

Last night’s Olympic games were “must see t.v.” I can’t think of another time when I have felt so elated by a sporting event. I cried with Simone Manuel as she won and as she stood on a pedestal while the national anthem played and our flag was so proudly flew. I cried again with Simone Biles when she realized the dream of a lifetime. I cried for the happiness that spread like wildfire through my hometown. Greater Houston was on the map and bigger than ever last night as two of its most remarkable citizens showed the world what the people here are really like.

I have always maintained that Houston is perhaps the very best place to live in all of the United States. What it lacks in scenery and good weather it makes up for in its people who all in all are a grand bunch of loving and hard working individuals. We live and work together here. We are focused on our children and our neighbors. Ours is a big city with a little town feel. Now we have two heroines to make us even prouder of this crazy wonderful place we call home.   

Home

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Adoption-Home-StudyI’ve spent most of the summer away from home. I was a nanny-godmother to my godson and his brother in Boston, provided my granddaughter with a place to crash during her film camp in Austin, took a five thousand mile round trip to San Diego and back, and served as a dog sitter in San Antonio. From May until today I have only slept in my own bed for a little under three of the last nine weeks. My travels have been great fun but I almost feel like a stranger in my own house. It is amazing how many changes have occurred in the neighborhood in my absence. I have grown unaccustomed to the lights and the sounds that must surely have been there all along but which now feel so different. It seems that I will have to reacquaint myself with my surroundings before I wander off again in September. 

My father and his father were filled with wanderlust. They both moved around so much that it was often difficult to keep track of where they were. My grandfather boasted that he had lived and worked in all but a few of the contiguous states. I suspect that this explains why he doesn’t show up in a single census until he is almost fifty years old. My father had taken us on a cross country adventure just before he died. We were slated to settle down for a time but the evidence indicated that our sojourn would in all likelihood have been brief. In the eleven years that he and my mother were married they had lived in nine different houses and had traveled to dozens and dozens of states. They were on the verge of choosing home number ten when he died. Life with my daddy was definitely a moveable feast.

My mother was more settled. Her father built a home and stayed there for the totality of his adult life in this country. She selected a modest place for us after she became a widow and stayed there until we were all grown. She only moved once more when the neighborhood became a venue for rampant crime. After numerous robberies at her home she agreed that it was time to find a safer location in which to reside. She stayed in the next house long enough to pay for it in full just as her father had done with his homestead.

I am a mixture of my mom and dad. Part of me hears the siren call of adventure and the other worries that moving around too much leads to a dangerous instability, even if it is only the temporary movement of a trip. I cling to security but desire excitement. I have the urge to toss caution to the wind and follow the open road but then a sense of responsibility always pulls me back. Mostly though I think of how fortunate I am to have a home base and the means to travel when the urge overtakes me. In my journeys I have seen firsthand so many individuals without a home or a means of conveyance. They are modern day hunter gatherers moving along the streets and highways attempting to find scraps of existence from day to day and place to place. I have taught the children of such people whose situations were so dire that my heart nearly bursts even as I think of them today.

During the early years of teaching I encountered children in disturbing circumstances. One beautiful little girl lived with her family in a car. Her bed at night was the trunk. She was a pleasant child who smiled almost beatifically when expressing her gratitude that she was able to attend school each day and that she was not forced to sleep on the ground. She marveled at her parents’ ingenuity in caring for the family and boasted of the generosity of the owners of a funeral home who allowed them to park behind the business. She brought me lovely bouquets of flowers every single day from the dumpster refuse that she carefully culled. She enjoyed the free breakfast and lunch provided by the school but was still so reed thin that I suspected that her dinners were quite lacking. I often wonder what ultimately became of her. I hope that she is doing well and that she finally has a home to call her own.

Later I taught a little boy who was a handful. His behavior was akin to a wild child who had been raised by wolves. I struggled to keep his attention and wondered what made him so difficult. He eventually revealed that he and his mother were living in the garage of friends. They each had a twin mattress set on the concrete floor in between the lawn mowers and hardware that usually resides in such a place. They used a tiny propane stove to prepare meals and their hosts were kind enough to allow them to enter their home to bathe and relieve themselves. Unlike the optimistic child who had so inspired me with her homeless tale, this young man was angry at the world. At the age of nine he was already cynical and filled with hate. He wanted to find his father and beat him to a pulp for leaving them. He was embarrassed by his mother who seemed incapable of finding a job and earning the money needed to get a real place. He brought his rage into the classroom and once I realized what was fueling it I began to feel his pain. Eventually he and I achieved a separate peace as we spoke of the losses that we had both experienced. We somehow understood and respected one another. I convinced him that education would provide him with a way out of his horror. I hope that he made it and knows how much I cared.

We tend to take our homes for granted whether they be mansions in River Oaks or double wide trailers on Griggs Road, owned or rented. We have roofs over our heads at night and places to cook our food. We don’t often think about the people living under freeway overpasses or crouching behind dumpsters. We barely notice them during the day and they become almost invisible at night. Many of them are alcoholics, drug addicts or mentally ill. Some of them are simply experiencing temporary periods of bad luck.

Here in my hometown of Houston thousands of people have lost their jobs in the oil industry. Many have been searching for work for over a year. Those who have support systems to go along with their unemployment checks have hung on but their feelings of desperation intensify with each passing week. Those who have alternate skills have found part time jobs to make ends meet but just barely. Some have hit a wall and have nowhere to turn. They are one bad experience from being evicted with no place to go and no one on whom to rely. They are terrified of the future. This is how homelessness sometimes begins.

After my father died my mother reminded us every single day of how fortunate we were to have a decent and secure place to live. When the rain pounded on our roof she smiled knowing that we would be dry. Our house was small and often riddled with problems that needed repair. It was hot in the summer because there was no air conditioning but it was ours and there was little chance that we would somehow lose it.

Today I live in a comfortable suburban neighborhood in a house filled with memories of friendship and love. It is where I return again and again. It has been a source of comfort in difficult times and a retreat from the stresses of work. I don’t often appreciate it as much as I should. I sometimes forget that it is one of the great blessings of my good fortune. I must remember to be thankful when the winds are blowing and I am safe and warm. Because of the grace of God I am home.