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Sunday, February 9, 2014

My Boss(es)

Some jobs allow you slack off a bit, text your friends, play on Facebook, make Amazon purchases, leave for an extra long lunch hour. All things which you quickly hide or minimize or explain away when you hear your boss walking down the corridor. My (soon-to-be) job does not. I have 23 little bosses that are ever present, ever alert, and ever noting loudly anything that is not as it should be.


My miniature bosses watch my every move. If I spell something wrong, dismiss them late for recess, make an error on a math problem, or am not prepared for a lesson. There are 23 sets of eyes ready to correct, remind, and question me. And I love it!

I have told the children that if they can catch mistakes that I make (and point it out politely!) they can receive a "proud paw". (Too difficult to explain - it's like school money to use at a school-wide store) In doing this, I want the children to learn and know that mistakes are okay. We all make mistakes. Our classroom is a place where mistakes are made, and corrected, and learned from. 

Oh, and I love my bosses. We've likely done a number of things that you have not done with your boss. We have sung and danced together. We go sledding. We've even wore our pajamas, had popcorn, watched movies. We hug. Every day. (Except after lunch. I do not allow the students to hug me after lunch. They are sticky, have unidentifiable stains on their shirts, and smell like ketchup. Miss. Lake does not hug after lunch. Ever.) 

Yep, and I like Mondays!

Friday, February 7, 2014

A Hug Goodbye

This month, February, has a sad undertone for me. It was during the last week of January 2010 that I received the final decision from the Czech government that they no longer wanted me. Not only did they not want me, but they had decreed that by law, I must leave their country within 30 days. I was being deported.

This notification came during one of the busiest times of life at the International Baptist Theological Seminary in Prague, Czech Republic. We had a large number of PhD students on site and I was fully engaged in making sure they were fed, housed, watered, and happy. The notification came as an e-mail attachment.

My Czech language skills were functional enough that I had read through the document and understood that this was not good news. Truly in unbelief, I asked a Czech friend and colleague to come read this letter for me. I was certain that I had misinterpreted it, or that there was a byline I was missing that said, "But it's okay, you may stay."

There wasn't.

I sat in my office chair in shock and pain. February 2010 was hard. Really hard. I had worked (with the help of colleagues) for over a year to apply for visa renewal to remain in the Czech Republic. It was a long and tiring journey to try to right a wrong that was made which turned my position from being legal to illegal. Finally, the word came: "Go home."

Go home? I had been in Europe since 2001. One month after I graduated college I packed up and flew across the Atlantic Ocean to settle in this Central European region. Fully embracing the strange land and culture. I had been there for nearly ten years and transitioned into adulthood in these foreign lands. In a way that I cannot explain Europe had become my home. And I was being kicked out.

My dear loved ones in Prague were gracious, kind, and sincere. The memories of this month are bittersweet. Thankful and painful.

So, today, forgive me if I request an extra hug this month. Forgive me if I there's an underlying sadness in my eyes. Forgive me if I can't explain what is tugging at my heart. There is a mourning process that perhaps will never end. There is something deeper inside that is hard to define or explain, but it's there.

We each have our own struggles and heartbreak. I understand. The month of February, when I request a hug - this is why. That's all. I've a lot of my heart and love in a place and in people whom I cannot wrap my arms around today...