Joys of Work and Race for the Cure

My job. How I’ve missed you, let me count the ways. NOT. I have made the comment on numerous occasions that I have been less stressed dealing with Breast Cancer than I would be if I were at work. There is something wrong with that. Majorly wrong with that. A lot of that stress is self-inflicted as I try to save the world one kid at a time. But currently, the kid that needs to be saved is me, so that is where I am directing my energies these days.

With all the crap that I deal with at work on a daily basis, there are people and students within those school grounds that are incredibly special. I don’t know what everyone else’s experience with the district has been, but on a weekly basis I would come home and ask myself why I continue to do my job. I would question the difference I was making, if any, the hours I was putting in, and the constant clambering and clawing to make the school and programs that I contribute to, more efficient and better for students. When I first was diagnosed I was so worried about how I was going to balance this news with work. Taking the year off never once occurred to me as an option until Mariluz with her bossy behavior made me realize that taking time off should be the only option I considered. Thank goodness it was. In my absence colleagues gave me space, however meals, cards, flowers and gifts for Marco came in a constant stream. Their support meant the world to me as did the sporadic visits I would get from those who wanted to check in.

A secret team with my colleagues was headed up at Clayton for The Race for the Cure and pink shirts were made with “Clayton Bets on Ms. List” across the front.  An email was sent out to the staff with my name accidentally attached and I discovered their mission to surprise me. I’m really good at finding things out by the way. I knew about all of my Christmas presents weeks before the holiday and would practice my, “I can’t believe you got me more wool socks, I needed those!” face in the mirror to perfect it for my parents’ sake. It didn’t take away from the fact that I cried when I first found out (my team, not my socks) and was overwhelmed by how much people cared for me and wanted to help me. It was either that, or the “kindness acts” quota needed to be met before the end of the calendar year. A work team was formed in addition to my personal team and I was on the books for two separate teams totaling over seventy members. How awesome is that??!! The day of the race was one big support Allison party and I was so incredibly grateful, appreciate and largely pregnant that I sat most of the time.

A few weeks before the race I received a text with an essay attached. The comment read, “This made me cry.” I opened up the picture and started reading an essay about a role model. A few sentences in I saw my name and tears welled up. A student of mine wrote an essay about me for her class and it addressed my Breast Cancer, critiques on my classroom management (gotta love Middle School Students) and my confidence. The fact that she even thought of me was unbelievable. I remember my hands were trembling after I read it because I was so blown away. A few days after that I received a few photos of the girl’s 7^th and 8th grade basketball teams who were decked out in pink “List Strong” insignia. I cried again. I have since lost those photos and blame it on Meghan Poirer, but that’s ok, she’s used to things being her fault. It was the mere thought, that in a developmental time when the only things preteens can think of is themselves, came a glimmer of empathy being directed towards another. Knowing this population pretty well, that meant more than words can describe. I’ve left classroom lessons shaking my head because a poll of students showed that their #1 concern in life when we were discussing anxiety was, “What if I get home and YouTube has shut down?” That’s right, the majority. These kids can’t be bothered with Breast Cancer, we have the YouTube crisis to deal with people! Let me be clear that I asked that my personal information on my diagnosis not be shared with students because I didn’t think they should be bothered with it and it seemed weird to have them know, but eventually the information made it around school. But, in a way, it was good because this whole situation has made me realize that in some small way, I have made an impact. Selfishly, I needed to know that to renew my sense of worth in my job. That on those days I feel like no one listened to a god damn word I said or suggestion I made to control anger, ease anxiety, increase positive social reactions, what to do if YouTube wouldn’t work, etc. that maybe there was something else that stuck.

After Simona came into the world, I had to go back to work for a meeting and I tried to time it between classes so I wouldn’t see anyone. That didn’t work out and I got caught in passing time on my way out of the building and had a flood of kids run up to me in dramatic middle school style and hug me, poke me, ask me if I was going to live and the like. When I got home I covered myself in hand sanitizer before picking Simona up. I just had to go back this week and again, got caught in passing time but this time I had the baby with me, which bringing a baby to a school is like being underage with a fake ID. EVERY ONE suddenly becomes your new best friend. I had one boy say, “Can I touch your baby and carry her around.” I promptly replied with, “Nope.” She did end up going into a English class and teaching for the first few minutes and the kids thought it was the greatest thing ever. The point I’m trying to make is that you get to a place in your career where you start to question your path and negativity sets in. I’ll be damned if I end up being the cranky lady in the corner crocheting and shouting out, “We’ve already tried that ten years ago!” at district meetings, although some days I feel that way. When you feel like you are not making any positive contributions to your work and towards the greater good that really can mess with your mind, and can make you start crocheting apparently. Getting cancer has helped me realize that we all get into our routines and forget to tell the people around us, that we value them and forget to say something as simple as a, “thank you.” So in a way, dare I say “thank you” to my cancer for making me realize that I am making an impact in my job. It’s unfortunate that it takes something as drastic as a life changing event to snap us out of our everyday funks and routines. After you read this please pay it forward and tell someone you work with that you value them. 

Now, enjoy some pictures! 

Team shirts made by the Clayton Staff. A huge thank you!

Simona teaching a 7th grade English class. 

Mark List, Rhonda Lawrence, Jill List and Mike Lawrence. Kick off for the Race for the Cure! 

Team photo. Only part of the group captured. Thank you to everyone who participated! 

Katie Elliott (my beautiful sister) and a largely pregnant Allison List

Amanda Feehan, Ashley Greenhalgh, Allison List, Sky Sessions

Proof that boobs have always played a major role in my life. Long story short, my boob popped out while doing yoga with students at work. Months later, I had a bad day at work and came in the next morning with this cake in my office. Now, I have at 50% chance of that horrific event ever happening again.  At least I have that going for me. 

 

Decals compliments of Ashley Greenhalgh! You are awesome!

I am a counselor for a specialized program for students with Autism Spectrum Disorder. I teach weekly coping skills. They returned the favor and made me "skills bracelets". Yes, one of them says, "lazy" and the other says "GFY". Look it up.