In the Lou

I admit that the text messaging and quick-fire emails in my life has allowed me to adjust to a significantly truncated style of communication in order to get through my days. But this week I was reminded three times the value of taking time to write.

Retired and traveling (more…)

I love DonorsChoose.org. If you’ve never visited the site, please do. It allows anyone to directly impact a classroom of their choosing.

Right now, DonorsChoose is running a blogger challenge. One of my projects was chosen by the popular blog TechCrunch to be featured in their challenge. This is certainly very exciting news. My project is raising funds to help turn one of our newer computers into seven computer terminals with use of a special piece of hardware. The per computer cost is only about ~300!! Click into the challenge page, and you’ll be able to see my project in full detail.

As I’m packing my bags tonight to fly out for my aunt’s memorial service, I’m drawn to writing once more. This time, amidst my feelings of loss and shock, because I feel lucky. I am so lucky to have people in my life that are connected to me through friendship or shared purpose with what I am doing and are around to support me. I have received numerous messages from friends near and far about the situation.

What I really want to point out in this post is that several people who I have not heard from in some time or maybe ever reached out to me across time zones and continents to help completely fund my project at DonorsChoose. And while I will say it privately, I want everyone to hear me say thank you.

My intent in writing about my aunt’s gift was, in my own way, to memorialize her giving spirit and generosity. My friends have, through their actions, done so much more. I am really at a loss for words.

Today I understand what it feels like to be part of a statistic. As a teacher, I saw people turn my students into faceless numbers. They talk about them in a way that evokes no passion and calls to mind no important memories.

Today I understand what it feels like to be part of a statistic. Today, I became someone for whom the next statistic does now evoke passion and call to mind important memories:

On average someone is killed by a drunk driver every 39 minutes.

Today I understand what it feels like to be part of a statistic. Today, my aunt was killed by a drunk driver.

For those reading this, you may wonder why I’m choosing to talk about this here, on my blog. How does this personal matter truly extend into the realm of education matters?

Today, by chance, I checked on a proposal that’s pending expiration at DonorsChoose.org. When I visited the page, I found out that only one person had donated to the project: my aunt.

When my mom called me today with the news of what had happened, I was, of course, extremely shocked. But finding this reminder of my aunt’s good will and warm heart in the same day was for me the moment that I had to actualize she is gone.

I can’t thank her. I can’t email her. But I can miss her, and I can let everyone know that while the above is a statistic, today one of those people was a kind and wonderful woman who was snatched away from all of us way too suddenly and too soon.