we the underpaid: priceless

She said he was a problem.
It's no wonder they call them knitted eyebrows because whenever I knit my eyebrows they tend to be close knit--we're talking an absolutely smartwool sort of knit--because they often hover and cover one pretty damn cold stare.
I didn't care who I was talking to or why; I only thought of the boy. (It was a lot like the day the 5.8 magnitude earthquake hit and I (the cali native) ran inside, past the other adults standing in the doorway for safety, thinking only of the napping 3 and 4 year olds in my care rather than worrying about best thing to do during a DC earthquake).
I ran straight into the crumbling structure of her bias; I was all set to grab this kid and pull him out of harm's way.
"He is not a problem."I said, as if telling her the simple facts. It sounded like I was assuring her he was not allergic to peanuts.
"Well, he has a problem." She was persistent; I'll give her that. She is supposed to be some kind of specialist, afterall.
"I'm sure there are problems. I don't see him as a problem, I don't even see that he has problems. I'm sure there is a problem but it isn't him." We were knee deep in it as though conjugating Spanish verbs.
"Oh, I didn't mean that, I just meant, he's got problems."
And then, thank gawd, some(tiny)one spilled milk or needed a second helping of cheerios and was kind enough to ask for help from me.
+++++
Most of my friends are looking for meaningful employment while they worry their skills are underutilized in service industry positions. I am no exception; I have three very practical master's degrees and the savvy that comes with the nine years I spent working on them them. Still, I am currently working as an assistant teacher due to DC's strict licensure requirements and so find myself among my peers thinking maybe I should have bought $120,000 in lottery tickets instead of degrees. And yet...

I can't help but think maybe, just maybe my cat-like reflexes (cat-like that is when it comes to early childhood advocacy) are not underutilized, not under-appreciated, nor under-rated... by those who need them most.

Maybe, just maybe, it takes a Graduate level certification issued by a California State University system to know the difference between the words "is", "has" and "deals with" when they precede the word "problems". Maybe it takes a Master's level certification in listening to really hear the difference and maybe a 4 year degree in Divinity (though it didn't get me any closer to the divine) has (in fact) prepared me to watch for the opportunity to offer grace in the face of violence, to refrain from hitting a child even when encouraged to do so, to refrain from berating, shaming, or excluding a child at all costs.

If it were easy everyone would be able to do it and if someone were able to put a price tag on it I'd probably be pretty well-paid. It's not easy, it's a rare thing of beauty to have such opportunities to help re-write the story of one little boy. I'm not well paid because the things I am able to do for my little birds are priceless... I've got to remember that. I've just got to. I've got to keep that kind of truth close. I'll go crazy if I don't because it doesn't make sense. (no effing sense). Sometimes the skinnytree is the best way to keep the truth close.

But the good news is this: Just as sure as there is no way these birds or their families will ever repay me for the things I work so hard to accomplish for and with them (thank gawd they won't have to), there is the fact that I reap the glorious and glowing harvest of their affection, trust and respect every day. In all our glory we are everyday pressed-down, shaken together and running over because we are not problems; we are loved. We're open from 7am to 6pm; we're effing here if you need us--especially at nap time.

Call it Pre-K, call it early childhood, call it what you will, but don't call it a problem when we struggle with executive brain functions like impulse control or higher level processing. There are problems we face but we face them together without blame or shame or violence.

And you probably do too. You just have to look very closely, search out the anti-blame, the anti-shame and the anti-violence in you. Follow it's trail the way you watched ants when you were small. When you find a tiny spot of gratitude crawling along your path or defying gravity as it scales the wall near your face (I swear, if you don't see these moments of your own worth you'll go absolutely nuts in this economy and that is a promise).

We the priceless underpaid--sure you're included, welcome aboard--we are not a problem;
we are learning to live
in the problems with patience and creativity. We use our words, not our fists; we apologize a lot and rely on our short-term memories, we drink lots of water and get a nap in if we can.
We are, well, learning to live
in a world riddled with problems all the while assuring each other you are not one of them, I am not a problem either.
We are learning to live
in love, and if you ask me that just means
We are learning to live.