Mannying Defined pt. 2: Values

 

After working at a middle school for eight months, I got to spend the summer break as a manny to two awesome, funny, crazy boys.  It was a great summer full of fun and adventure.  I felt a pure joy that I hadn't felt in awhile.  I was reminded that being a manny truly is my passion in this stage of my life.  It got me thinking about why I chose to be a manny in the first place.

I have always loved working with kids.  What better way to earn money than simply playing with kids all day?  I wish I could say that all I do is play, but when it comes to helping children develop into amazing people, more is needed than just fun and games.  Children need to be taught to respect everyone around them.  They need to learn to love learning.  And, yes, they do need to have fun.

Respect

If you've ever seen Kids Say the Darndest Things, you know that children can be brutally blunt and honest.  The younger ones especially are not afraid to give their opinions on things.  It can be confusing for a child when they get scolded for speaking a thought out loud.  What we as adults see as disrespect is usually just a kid trying to grasp something they don't understand.  

I think I've used this example before, but one kid I was working with (we'll call him A) during the 2020 shutdown was doing his third grade class completely online via Zoom.  I would sit with him and help him with his work.  I became fairly familiar with his classmates.  There was one boy in particular who clearly had a learning disability.  For some reason, his actions made A angry and uncomfortable.  After an outburst from A one day, I explained to him why this boy acted the way he did.  I explained that things looked different from this boy's point of view, so his reactions were different than most peoples'.  I saw the lightbulb go off in A's eyes.  He smiled at me and said, "He just needs friends!"

In this situation, A was getting really fired up and got quite rude.  Fortunately, he was on mute, so I was the only one to hear the outburst.  Instead of getting mad at him, though, I calmly explained what was going on with the other boy.  Once everything clicked, A was able to see how he should act around this boy.  He was taught to respect someone who acted differently.

Education

Over this past summer, my favorite part of everyday was reading with the boys.  Sometimes I would read to them, sometimes they would read to me, and sometimes we would each read on our own.  After reading, the boys would work on Prodigy, an online math game a lot of elementary schools use.  During this time each day, the boys and I were given the opportunity to relax and unwind from physical activity.  Sure, the boys tended to run around while I would read to them; but when asked comprehensive questions, the boys were almost always able to recall events from the stories I would read.  Prodigy gave me the opportunity to work one-on-one, or I guess one-on-two, to help the boys figure out the math problems they were given.

Outside of that time of day, the boys tended to be very inquisitive.  We were on Google a lot, and asking Alexa questions occasionally.  We learned about belugas, and Michael Jordan, and outer space.  Being asked dozens of questions a day can be overwhelming, but I feel it is important to answer the questions.  Or, in most cases for us, find the answers to the questions.  You never stop learning, so don't try to stop.  And when a teachable moment arises, run with it.

Fun

Who doesn't love to have fun?  And what better way to show a child you care about them than having a good time with them?  Simply playing with a child can make a huge difference in their life.

I have had parents tell me how impressed they are about how involved I am with their kids.  Honestly, that's why I took the job in the first place!  I'm not the kind of sitter to just sit and watch, unless directed by the child.  That gets really boring really fast.  I'm going to sit down on the floor, criss-cross apple sauce, and play with Legos, or Pokemon cards, or dolls.  Whatever the kids are interested in become my new interests.  I've found that this is the easiest and most fun way to connect with children.  

While having fun, it is important to also listen.  Children are more likely to open up while they are having fun.  I worked with a kid who opened up while playing with a certain stuffed animal.  He would talk through the stuffed animal, and there was just pure joy emanating from him.

But, believe it or not, having fun can be exhausting.  Independent play can be an important thing for kids to learn.  When I get tired or am hurting from sitting on the floor, I simply tell the kids that I need a break.  Depending on the kid, they will either take a break with me, or continue to play on their own.  And, as far as I can remember, no feelings have ever been hurt by me saying I need a break.

Being a manny truly is the best job ever.  Like any other job, it has its challenges.  But overall, the joy I feel from working with kids is like no other joy I've ever felt.  I can only hope that I am making a positive, lasting impact on the lives of the children I work and have worked with, because they are leaving an impact on me.  I just want to return the favor.

Middle Schooled

Spending the last eight-ish months working as a paraprofessional in a middle school has been quite the roller coaster.  My official title was Primetime Paraprofessional, Primetime being a fun and fancy name for study hall.  I was given five classes of about 13-17 students, mostly eight graders with just a handful of 7th graders.  The job was stressful, fun, frustrating, and enlightening.  I learned a lot in the past eight months.

I learned that middle schoolers are difficult.

I learned that your children most certainly are not the perfect angels you think them to be.

I learned from experience why teachers go on strike for higher pay.

I learned how it felt to go to bed hungry and mad at the world.

I learned how to work with a supportive team.

I learned that every teacher wants what is best for your child.

I learned that not every parent cares.

I learned that middle school teachers are some of the most resilient individuals.

I learned how to listen for unspoken messages.

I learned to care about each and every individual student.

I may have learned more than the kids did.

Middle school is rough.  Teenagers can be positively infuriating.  But at the end of every day, I can look back, past all the misbehavior and frustration.  I can see the love of life in the students' eyes.  I can see the light bulbs going off as students grasp a concept.  I can see the humor and love the students share.  I can see that the future is in good hands, so long as our educators stay dedicated to their students.

I'm so grateful for the time I spent as a Primetime Paraprofessional.  I can't wait to get back to it in the fall.

  

 

Depression: A Short Story

 

September 12th

Zeb enjoyed watching the magpies pick at the bird feeders on the front lawn.  He loved the way their wings glinted blue in the sunlight.  He found comfort in the chirping of mothers calling out to their chicks, telling them food was coming.  Zeb could watch those birds for hours.

"The birdseed is getting low," Zeb muttered to himself.  He shut the front door and walked down the long hallway towards the kitchen, the chain around his ankle rattling with every step he took.  He grabbed some bread and jam from the pantry for a quick bite.  He made up his snack and returned to the front door.  The chain snagged going around the corner as a couple links receded into the wall.

September 13th

The magpies hadn't begun swooping yet.  Surely today would be the day.  Zeb headed for the washroom, but decided a bath could wait.  He quickly made his way down the hallway to the front door, the chain clinking loudly behind him.

"Curse this chain," Zeb murmured.  "Always causing a raucous."  Zeb looked outside just in time to see the birds fly back into the trees.  "Curse this chain," he repeated.  With the magpies cautiously watching, Zeb headed towards the kitchen for breakfast.  The chain tugged at Zeb's ankle as more links vanished into the wall.

September 14th

Zeb awoke to an itching, burning pain on his ankle.  He limped his way to the washroom to wet his ankle.  He flinched as he gently patted the inflamed area with a cold, moist cloth.  A sudden, loud chirp erupted from outside.

"It's started!"  Zeb hurried out of the washroom and down the hall, dodging around the chain at his feet.  He threw the front door open just in time to see a single magpie swooping out of a tree towards a squirrel.  The squirrel got away before the magpie could strike.  The other magpies sat in their trees, watching.  False alarm.  The swooping still hadn't begun.

"Cheeky squirrel," Zeb chuckled.  He then grimaced as the chain tugged at his ankle, more links disappearing.  But he stayed put, watching the magpies.

September 15th

After a small breakfast, Zeb made his way to the front door.  As he reached for the door handle, he was pulled back by the chain, once again receding into the wall.

"I can't reach the door," Zeb whispered angrily.  "I'll miss it all."  He fell to his knees, unsure of what to do next.  He sat there for hours, despairing over his predicament.

Outside, the magpies remained silent.

September 16th

Zeb woke on the floor, hungry and cold.  His ankle burned.  He noticed that he was further from the door than he was when he fell asleep.  The chain must have dragged him further from the door.  He let out a cry of frustration.

That's when he heard it.  The clamorous chirping of magpies dive bombing small critters, trying to protect their homes.

"I'm missing it," Zeb sobbed.  "Curse this chain!"  He began to claw at his ankle, repeating his new mantra. "Curse this chain!  Curse this chain!"

His ankle and fingertips began to bleed.  Zeb wailed and sobbed.  He thought he would never be free of the chain that kept him from the joy the magpies brought him.

And that's when he remembered.

Zeb rushed down the long hallway into his bedroom.  As if reading his mind, the chain began working overtime, quickly receding.  How had he forgotten?  There, on his bedside table, sat liberation.  Freedom from the pain.  Zeb lunged for the key as the chain gave one final tug.  He struggled with the lock as the chain pulled him towards the unknown.

He unclasped the chain.

Giving a sigh of relief, Zeb limped his way back down the hallway.  With a smile on his face and tears in his eyes, he turned the handle on the front door, and took a deep breath.  The magpies were chirping up a storm, flying this way and that.

This was the best swooping he had ever witnessed.

Backwards Anxiety

 

I feel as though my life has always consisted of taking one step forward, quickly followed by two steps backward.  In 2018, I took my biggest step forward by moving to Idaho to continue my education.  In 2019, I took a couple steps back by moving back home to Pennsylvania.  While in Pennsylvania, my mannying clientele grew, my anxiety almost completely vanished thanks to lifestyle changes and a wonderful therapist, and I was the happiest I had been in years.  Then I took the giant step of moving back to Idaho in 2022.  Since being back in Idaho, I find myself stepping backwards again.  But one of those backward steps worked out well for me.

After moving back to Idaho, being unemployed for a month, and digging myself into a hole of financial burden, my anxiety decided to take over.  It didn't help that I had just cut one of my medicine dosages in half.  But me being me, I didn't want to go back to the full dosage.  In fact, after three months and with permission from my doctor, I took two steps backwards and went off that medication completely.

The two or three weeks after discontinuing that prescription were miserable.  I was always trembling, constantly on the verge of tears, and extremely sensitive to everything around me.  I hoped and prayed that all this would go away once my body was done going through withdrawals.  

Miracle of miracles, it almost all went away (except for the occasional trembling).  The confidence I had while I was in Pennsylvania returned.  Aside from the medication, nothing in my life has changed.  All the stressors are still there, but I am now able to manage them.  I have become comfortable asking for help.  I am almost always in a better mood at work.  I'm feeling happy again, for the most part.  I just had to take a step back.

My life is nowhere near where I want it to be.  The anxiety is still there, especially in regards to what life has in store for me.  I'm confused about my future, about what my next steps are.  I now understand, though, that it is okay to take a couple steps back.  Those backwards steps might just lead me to the greatest next step imaginable.

*Note:  Although being taken off of a medication worked for me, it may not work for everyone.  I was on that medication for 17 years.  It worked really well for many of those years, but as time went on, I'm guessing that my body built up a resistance to it.  Please talk to your doctor before discontinuing your medication.

On the Struggle Bus

Five days, on and off.  That's how long my most recent anxiety attack lasted.  A whole lot of "woe is me" building up in my system, making me fear for my future, thoughts racing at the speed of fright.  The funny thing about my anxiety is that, not only am I on the struggle bus, I'm the one driving the bus.

Who would have thought that all I needed was some backseat drivers.  My coworkers caught me shaking and looking nervous at lunch.  They gave me a pep talk and offered me assistance.  They never tried to take the steering wheel from me.  They just offered direction.  That's all I needed.  I have been alright ever since.

I have always struggled with asking for help.  I never wanted to be a charity case.  My coworkers assured me that I was not a charity case, that we're meant to help each other in our times of need.  In the past couple weeks, I have received a lot of guidance, food, and anonymous money donations from coworkers.  The assistance and care has opened my eyes to the fact that there are people around me who truly care for me.  (Another funny thing about my anxiety: thinking everyone just tolerates you, nothing more.)  I will be forever grateful to the amazing people I work with.

My new goal in life is to be a backseat driver.  The struggle bus doesn't offer a smooth ride, but I know now that I can help others on this field trip called life.