Author: Sharron Burnett

It’s a cold rainy day and the temperature is supposed to drop even more during the night. In all likelihood there will be sheets of ice on the walkways and roads by morning making it treacherous to move around outside. I am trying to enjoy the time of hunkering down like a bear hibernating inside a cave. Perhaps it is the dreariness or maybe the silence that is making me pensive but some might say that I seem to be pensive all of the time. For now my mind is jumping from one thought to another without landing on a topic that will control the many thoughts racing through my head.

I am about a week away from surgery for a total knee replacement and because I am rarely sick and have had few medical emergencies in my lifetime I am a bit anxious about what lies ahead for me in the days and weeks after I have an artificial knee inside my body. I have been coached on the seriousness of what is going to happen and the need for my attention to all of the little details that I must be certain to follow to make my recovery as quick as possible. It can all be a bit overwhelming in spite of my confidence in the doctor and medical personnel who have been working with me. 

I’m not supposed to go outside into the yard or the garage for the next many days lest I pick up an infection or hurt myself before the surgery. Normally I would be outside helping my husband prepare for the big freeze but this time I have done very little to assist in the process. Instead I have relied on people like my eldest grandson and the men who mow our lawn to assist in moving potted plants and covering the more fragile ones that grow in the ground. I’m obeying my orders but feeling a bit useless as I watch my husband checking things outside to insure that all will be in good shape for the onslaught of winter which usually comes only in brief spurts in my part of the world. 

While all of this is happening I am reading about the courageous citizens of Minnesota who took part in a general strike by the tens of thousands. It amazes me that they took to the streets in sub freezing weather just to show their concerns about ICE using questionable tactics with their neighbors. They spoke of their first amendment and fourth amendment rights as citizens, echoing the determination of our nation’s founders who wanted to live with the freedom to speak their minds and to be safe inside their homes. I want them to know how much I admire and support them knowing that at least for the coming weeks I won’t be able to emulate their protests in my own town. 

I read an article in theNew York Times this morning describing the costs of healthcare in the United States for those not covered by Medicaid or Medicare. I thought of how little I have been paying for my own health issues and how I am able to schedule a knee replacement because I am well covered only because I am an older citizen. I think of how I mainly see retired persons when I visit any of my doctors and I feel that the main reason is that younger folks mostly use medical visits for emergencies because the rising costs are too much for them. 

I have compared what I pay for routine visits to what my daughters pay for the same kind of interactions with their doctors and it is stunning. Their costs are always thousands of dollars more for something that only cost me twenty dollars or forty dollars. When I hear such things my sense of fairness begins to question our entire system which at the present time seems to be disorganized and broken. It only appears to be working for Americans depending on how old a person is and even where that person lives. 

I certainly would not deny older Americans the level of medical care that I and my peers are receiving at costs so much less than those who are younger but the fact that other Americans are struggling under the weight of increasingly expensive fees with no help from our government is appalling. My ninety six year old father-in-law has incurred hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical care in the last couple of months, most of which will be covered by Medicare and an insurance plan from his place of work that has never cost him a dime to carry. While it is wonderful that he has so much coverage I can’t help wondering why our system is so unbalanced that a young American with the same medical circumstances would be drowning in debt. 

The United States is one of the few first world nations in which the citizens are not covered by a universal healthcare system. We have always feared the idea of standardizing the care by insuring that everyone can enjoy medical care without bankruptcy. We worry that there will be long waits for services or that the level of care will deteriorate. We consider the cost and how much it will increase our taxes. These are all legitimate concerns but right now we are ignoring a vast swathe of Americans who are drowning under the cost of medical insurance that they only use for emergencies. Even then they will be left with huge debts based on deductibles that would erode most incomes. How can we call ourselves a great nation knowing that we are ignoring the needs of so many? How can we repair this problem with a spirit of fairness and a willingness to change for the greater good?

These are my musings and I believe that they should be considered by everyone. We take care of our elderly but we turn our backs on the young. It’s time that we listen to their needs and find ways to make certain that nobody has to sell their homes or dip into their retirement funds just to stay healthy. Those of us enjoying the luxury of a system that takes care of our every need should be leading the way to guaranteeing the same kind of access for all.     

I am by nature an obedient person, the good child who avoided dangerous situations lest I might have caused undue worries for my widowed mother. I have been known as a “goody two shoes,” someone who walks away from risky moments. I have lived a lawful life for over seventy decades, paying taxes on earned income that came in the form of cash and would never have been traced back to me. I stop at a red light in the middle of the night when nobody is around. I do not boast about such things. it is simply who I am. I try to be honest and thoughtful but at the same time I have a protective streak that runs deeply into my soul.

I have a tendency to attempt to rescue people and in many cases I have been successful. In my mind every single human has value regardless of the sins that he or she has committed. I have learned how to separate the bad deeds from the persona of an individual. Nonetheless I agree that there are times that the road to salvation for someone who has done egregiously horrific things resides in contrition and appropriate punishment. There is evil that is seemingly beyond our human absolution and must ultimately be judged by a higher spirit. Nonetheless, the vast majority of humans want to be good but may falter now and again. Taking them to task for their transgressions requires great wisdom and patience because the ultimate goal should be to help them to change, not to so demean them that they become seemingly unsalvageable. 

We live in a society that adheres to a continuum of justice. Some believe that only strict rules and unwavering punishments will lead to a better society. Others feel that finding the reasons for bad or illegal behavior should always be part of an attempt to not just punish but also to change the thinking and direction of those who flaunt the rules of society. There are even those who feel strongly that in certain situations it is paramount to disobey rules or laws that are obviously unfair and dangerous for everyone. 

I remember a time when my teacher became frustrated with some of my classmates that she believed were behaving badly. She took out her anger on all of us as though we had somehow been in league with the so called “bad seeds.” I had no idea who was actually the target of her ire but I had to sit quietly listening to her harangue and then stay after school writing sentences until I had completed the requirements that she imposed on all of us. Because I work slowly I was one of the last students to finish the assignment. When I turned it in to her she quietly whispered that she knew that I had done nothing wrong but that she had to punish everyone to be fair. 

Of course even as young as I was then I understood the unfairness of what had happened. Blaming and punishing innocents to make a point does little more than make even the nicest person want to rebel. I lost all respect for my teacher and actually began to think that the trouble makers who had been taunting her may have had a point. I saw that just because someone in authority creates a command or a rule does not mean that it is appropriate or even legal. This teacher taught me to be wary of authoritarian policies and the people who enforce them. She demonstrated the classic behavior of someone who uses force to maintain control. 

We are in an dangerous situation as citizens of the United States at the present moment. We know that there are indeed people living among us illegally. Some of them quietly work and stay to themselves without breaking additional laws and others commit heinous crimes. There are also immigrants who came to this nation legally and are working to eventually gain status as citizens of our nation. Somehow in the quest to eliminate the worst of the lot, even some who were born here but look foreign are being targeted indiscriminately by ICE. 

ICE is forcing its way into homes without warrants. It is arresting people showing up for legal hearings related to their citizenship. It is going to schools and using children to get to their parents. They are behaving like the teacher for whom I lost all respect by casting a net so wide that many innocents are included in their reckless endeavors. All one need be is dark skinned or someone who speaks with an accent or someone with a foreign sounding last name to be stopped and sometimes taken away. Little wonder that American citizens are now attempting to help those being assaulted so lawlessly just to meet quotas. 

Our Founding Fathers wrote a Declaration of Independence and in doing so they were breaking the laws of the king. If captured when they met to write a Constitution they might have been hanged. They were considered by the King of England to be dangerous traitors subject to the full force of punishment. Because they understood the most egregious behaviors of the authoritarian government under which they suffered as colonists they created the Bill of Rights. to protect themselves from anyone who would ever deign to rule without regard to what they believed to be their prevue as free citizens. The Bill of Rights are as follows:

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

No Soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.”

“The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.”

“No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.”

“In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence.”

“In Suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury, shall be otherwise re-examined in any Court of the United States, than according to the rules of the common law.”

“Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.”

“The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.”

“The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

Read these directives and know that we the people have certain rights that are being ignored in particular by ICE. We have the right to demand that they be held accountable. We have the right to speak out against their methods and protest what they are doing. We have the right to insist that they do not randomly break into homes without warrants or force people out of their cars without due cause or throw people to the ground and kill them for legally carrying a gun or raid schools to terrorize children. It is not up to those protesting the behaviors of ICE to just comply. Our Founding Fathers understood human nature and set up guardrails to protect us from anyone who would misuse the power of the government. It is up to ICE and the president to follow the laws of the land. It is clear that those rules are being flaunted and we the people have had enough!

I do believe that there is actually something called “the teacher mindset” even though no such concept has ever officially been studied. Years of working in a classroom changes the way a person looks at the clock, the days of the week and the calendar. Everything in life revolves around the demands of being ready and present for those hours dedicated to instilling knowledge in the students in a teacher’s care. Routines define the “teacher year” which begins in the weeks leading to the new school year and never really ends as one cycle bleeds into another. 

Sunday evenings are always a time of preparation for teachers. In addition to the usual duties of working individuals teachers begin to fret over plans for the coming week, even as they understand the many last minute emergencies and situations that may upend all of the work they have done attempting to stay on track with the scope of sequence of the subjects that they teach. As one of my education colleagues calls it, “the Sunday scaries” are a real thing for those who work in schools as they wonder if they have done enough planning to adjust to whatever happens in the hours that lie ahead. 

We teachers become so attuned to being observant and having alternative ideas for those moments when all of the best laid plans go awry that we sometimes come across as being way too controlling to those who have never been in our shoes when strange happenings upend all of the work that we have done. We are all too aware of the thousands of reasons that our school day may morph into events that were not anywhere in our prognostications. We don’t have just a Plan B but plans that go beyond Z. 

I know for a fact that I have at times annoyed members of my family who have never lived in my work world when I question their preparations for all sorts of things. They accuse me of distrusting them when I note possibilities that will change the course of whatever they have decided to do. My years of experience in an ever changing environment have taught me to be ready for anything and so I fret over the idea that things will always go smoothly. Thus the people around me sometimes accuse me of being bossy or overly anxious and yet when things go south just as I suggested they might I never utter the phrase, “I told you so.”

I am no longer actively working in a school but I do homeschooling two mornings a week and even in that tiny environment I have encountered unexpected situations that have forced me to change gears and save the day. I always need a host of alternatives in my pocket to adapt to the needs of my students which is really just the way that life is. 

A good teacher is always ready with extra pencils and paper and a new plan that looks nothing like the one in that they crafted originally. I knew this to be true whenever I interviewed a prospective employee or asked them to demonstrate their abilities with a lesson that they would present to a group of students. I looked for prospective teachers who would be able to think on their feet.

On one occasion an applicant came ready with an outstanding lesson plan that appeared to be ironclad. The only glitch came when the audiovisual equipment that she needed stopped working in the middle of it all. She demonstrated her mettle when she was able to keep the lesson flowing without interruption changing her entire methodology on the fly to keep the students’ attention. It was a masterful presentation and she indeed proved to be an exceptional educator. 

I have been retired from full time teaching since 2012. I find myself unable to completely let go of my teacher tendencies. I clean my house on Saturday mornings just as I did when I had to use my weekends to tie up the loose ends at home while readying myself for the week ahead. I spend time on Sunday afternoons grading the homework of my homeschoolers and analyzing what direction I need to follow with each of them. I awake early during the week and use the sound of the school bus stopping on my corner as a signal to get going with whatever is commanding me on my calendar. Mine are habits forged over the years but they are not unique. I find them being replicated by all of the young educators that I know. For each of us the seasons are not defined so much by the circuit of the earth around the sun as by the timing of the school year and the list of skills and knowledge that we have a limited time to convey to those in our care. 

Perhaps we come across as arrogant “know it alls” but that behavior is baked into our teacher DNA. We know that very few of our days go as initially planned so we have learned to be ready even as we look weeks ahead to be certain that when the last bell rings we have done our utmost to reach every person who sat before us waiting to partake of our attempts to prepare them for the world that they will one day enter as adults. Ours is a task that cannot be left to chance. 

As a daily consumer of Facebook I am often amused by the posts and ads that I encounter that speak to the days of my youth. We humans are rather sentimental and tend to look back on the times of our childhood with great joy as long as our experiences were positive and loving. Mine was quite wondrous save for the time when my father died so suddenly. I am reminded of how strange it was for a man so young to die when I see my former students celebrating their thirty third birthdays and I think of how many moments of life lie ahead for them. It seems almost unreal that such a young man left the earth forever and yet is remembered to this very day by those of us who knew him. 

One of the common posts on Facebook asks what our favorite places to eat were back in the day. When my father was alive that would have had to be a Tex Mex restaurant that was located in the Montrose area of Houston, Texas. It was a glorious place with polished tiles from Mexico welcoming us from the time we walked through the doors. The colors and the ambiance were exciting, a dining adventure that I knew from the start would be yummy. I loved the food and joy that my family felt on those excursions. 

Once my father died our nights out mostly consisted of visiting my grandparents and aunts and uncles. Because my mother’s budget was as slim as they might be our dining adventures consisted mostly of visiting local cafeterias where we were allowed to select three items however we might wish. Mostly my brothers and I would choose meat or fish with a vegetable of some kind and a dessert. I was a fried fish fan and almost always wanted macaroni and cheese to go along with my entree. My dessert of choice was apple pie. 

If the budget was doing well our mother might take us downtown to munch on hotdogs from James’ Coney Island, a local hangout where we would see celebrities and wealthy matrons mixing it up with those of us who were ordinary people. We sat at school desks munching on the delightful hotdogs and celebrating the fact that we got through the line for ordering without being yelled at by the men working at the steam tables.  Eating there was exciting and I still have an addiction to the hotdogs even though the original location with its local color is long gone and the hotdogs have grown ever smaller over time.

Sometimes for birthdays and other special times our mother would save enough from the budget to take us to the Tel-Wink Grill on Telephone Road where we enjoyed waffles or roast beef with gravy on a bed of white bread. The food there was almost as good as the country cooking that my grandmother Minnie Bell had become famous for preparing. Other times we joyfully gathered at a local Tex Mex place that did not have the ambiance of Felix’s but did have very tasty food. 

It was only after I met my husband Mike that I learned that there were other more opulent options for dining out. After we had been dating for a time his parents wanted to meet me at an elegant restaurant that specialized in steak and seafood. From the moment that we entered I felt uncomfortable and wondered if I would know how to act. It was quite obviously a place where prices seemed to be no object and I almost gulped when I saw them posted next to the entrees listed on the menu. 

I did my best to pretend that I was accustomed to such experiences but even the elegance of my future mother-in-law with her diamond rings and gold jewelry made me feel out of place and somehow lacking. I found myself wondering if I would have been more comfortable there if my father had lived and we had gone to such places as a family. I remember the whole affair as a kind of out of body experience in which I felt as though I was there and not there at the same time. I can’t even recall what I ordered or how it tasted because I was in a world that I did not fully understand. 

Eventually all of that changed but first I used my skills at living on a small budget as Mike and I attempted to survive with an income so small that it barely paid the rent on our apartment and allowed us to purchase groceries for the month. Mike was amazed by my ability to squeeze a dime and make it last far beyond its limitations. He learned about my world and then we built our earning power from there. Eventually eating at an expensive restaurant would be more commonplace for us but inside I never really forgot to appreciate my good fortune and to think about those who were hungry because they had such small incomes. I have never taken the comfort of my life for granted.

I ultimately became the best of friends with my mother-in-law who was more down to earth than I first thought she was. I bonded with her when I learned that she had lost her father when she was in her early twenties. That loss was as traumatic for her as mine had been. We often spoke of how much we missed our fathers and how losing them had defined us. She became one of the wisest women I had ever known who made it feel okay for me to long for my father even years after he was gone. I learned that she was actually a very humble woman and that my initial assessment of her as a wealthy women with whom I would never bond was totally wrong. She had mostly wanted to welcome me with a special feast and never once thought that it would make me uncomfortable. 

My favorite outings for dinner became her Sunday feasts that were so much like the ones my grandma Minnie had prepared in my childhood. We would sit around the dining table munching on roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and then the two of us would enjoy an after dinner treat of hot tea and cookies. In those moments we began to realize how much alike we were and she became a kind of big sister and mother-in-law all in one. Somehow money or lack of it did not matter. Only our kinship and understanding of each other made those meals as special as the ones that I had enjoyed as a child.

I have never taken a shared meal for granted because it is in the sharing of our bounty that we understand our common humanity. It is a spiritual moment when what we consume matters far less than the people who are there with us. They are the moments that keep our memories alive.

 

I have to admit to being weary. I always believed that my time in retirement would be noted for the fun and relaxation I enjoyed after a lifetime of hard work and dedication. I saw all of the photos of older friends lounging on beaches and taking in the sites around the world and imagined spending most of my time having nothing but fun. 

I initially enjoyed camping trips in our trailer and I even managed to go to London twice but after about seven years of feeling free from all responsibilities my life took a turn that required my being a responsible person much has it has been through most of my seventy seven years. I found myself worrying over my father-in-law and his wife in early 2020 when the worldwide pandemic took over so many lives. I not only wanted to shelter my husband from the dreaded virus given his heart issues but I knew that my in-laws were in danger because they were in their nineties and plagued with a host of health issues. I also had students to teach so I began to concentrate on ways to do all of the things that needed to be done. 

I learned how to deliver lessons by Zoom and was soon ordering groceries for myself and my in-laws from Instacart. I found masks when none were to be had and made sure that all of us were properly vaccinated against a lethal form of the virus. I made a game of staying inside away from people who might make me sick and then infect the less healthy members of my family. I did what I always do which was to be as optimistic as possible even as I worried day and night. 

Everyone made it through those times with the exception of my father-in-law’s wife. Her heart failure finally got the best of her just as the dangers from the virus appeared to be shrinking. At the same time my father-in-law had a severe problem with a colon blockage and for weeks my husband and I spent hours and days in hospitals and rehabilitation centers with him. When he was finally released to go home we knew that he would no longer be able to live alone and so we opened our home to him, giving him the downstairs master bedroom and bathroom and moving ourselves upstairs to a small area. For four years we provided a safe space for him but finally realized that we ourselves had grown old during the time from 2020 to 2026. Everywhere we went we were treated like senior citizens and people began to wonder aloud if two late stage seventy year olds should be caring for a ninety-six year old man. We realized that it was time to make a change. 

We introduced my father-in-law to a couple of senior living places and found one that he liked. It was with a bitter sweet reluctance that we moved him even as our common sense told us that it was the best thing to do for the safety of all of us. He seemed happy but my sense of responsibility kept wondering if we had done the right thing even as I enjoyed being downstairs again and luxuriating in my big bedroom and bathroom.

For a few weeks we all settled in to our new situation and it felt quite good. I was finally able to schedule a total knee replacement for a knee that now has zero cartilage to soften the blows of walking. It was nice to know that everyone would be in a good place with no worries, but somehow as with much of my life unexpected challenges came my way. A phone call in the middle of the night awakened us to the terrible news that my father-in-law had fallen and severely injured himself. The damage to his body was devastating and for a time it felt as though he was moving toward the end of his life. Meanwhile I kept wondering if he would still be okay if he were still living with us. Guilt quite illegally took over my mind. 

It has been many weeks of ups and downs for my father-in-law and for me and my husband. We eventually got him a place in a skilled nursing center very near our home. There he is blooming and smiling again and in the interim I have been able to schedule my knee surgery for February knowing that I will have a nice place in which to recuperate without worrying.

On the same day that I made the final arrangements for my impending surgery I felt elated to witness how wonderfully my father-in-law was doing. He was smiling and boasting about the outstanding care he was receiving. All finally seemed to be well and I felt unburdened by my concerns. It felt good to be able to just be me and take care of myself for a time. 

The fickle finger of fate has a way of taunting us. On the very same night that I was celebrating the joy in knowing that everyone was going to be okay I had a very stupid accident. I was stepping into my pajama pants in my big bathroom and noticing that the static cling in them was making it difficult to get my foot all the way through. With any common sense I would have sat down to finish the job but instead after getting one leg in I remained in a standing position having a fight with the second leg of the pajamas. Without any warning I lost my footing and began rapidly falling backwards with nothing to grab to keep me from slamming to the floor. 

Within a split second my head hit the bathtub with a loud boom that brought my husband running to the scene of my embarrassment. I briefly lay on the floor gathering my dignity and then crawled across the room to use a chair braced on the countertop to pull myself up the rest of the way. I felt fine but my hands were shaking and I immediately saw how my hubris in insisting that I did not need to take precautions because of my age had brought me to a terrible situation. I had been as silly as I had accused my father-in-law of being. It was a moment of enlightenment for me. 

As I write this I am waiting for word from my doctor as to what I should next do. I feel fine and my brain is obviously working but I have read that blows to the head always need to be checked out. I hope that the finding is only that I need to finally accept the limitations of my state in the journey of life. I have always complained about old people who take unnecessary chances. I lectured my father-in-law often about going up and down our stairs when we were not home. I fussed at him for insisting to keep driving even as it was apparent that he no longer had the reaction time that he needed to do so safely. Suddenly I understood my own foolishness and pride. 

I don’t think anything bad happened to me. I am hard headed just as my mother always noted and my husband and children agree. I’ll keep you posted once I hear something. In the meantime I promise to start acting my age.

Update: My doctor insisted that I go to the local emergency center to be thoroughly checked for fractures or blood clots. I spent the day in the hallway behind a screen waiting for my turn among the very sick people who were there. I got a thorough examination including a urinalysis and CT scans of my hip, head, shoulder, neck and back. The news was good. There were not fractures or blood clots but I did have a urinary tract infection and the usual sites of arthritis and pinched nerves in different parts of my body. My mother was right. I seem to have a head hard enough to take a very serious blow and remain intact. I was relieved but still understand that it’s time for me to grow up and respect the cautions needed for my age.