Whack-A-Mom for Peace in Healthcare
Someone recently compared me to the game, "Whack a Mole". Affectionately, he described me as a person who kept sprouting up in a variety of arenas, sharing a different skill he didn't know I had or had interest in.
Roaring in laughter, I agreed it seemed a spot-on description and reason why I might get so many headaches.
In sharing a variety of experiences, opinions, successes and failures, I have been beaten around a little bit for them. Including a recent unexpected series of harassing phone calls and emails from a surgeon who seemed to misunderstand (and appeared quite threatened by) my goals for transparency and disclosure in health care. Whether it has been a tragic rift with family & friends because of poor or lacking communication or a medically trained clinician I have never met, my head still hurts from the blows. I never seem to know where they will come from, so like other grievers I go undercover to protect myself.
My assessor explained what he was seeing. A teacher, restorative practices facilitator, consultant, health care advocate and activist, an author, and a freelance writer.
But, I am also, most importantly, a mom. Despite the personal aches, the job description requires me to keep popping up to make sure the children are safe.
Parents are dogmatic in their search for the best for their family - a recipe that will be different for each family. Sometimes we must look back at our history to remember what we are doing in the present as we are working for a better future for our grandchildren.
In searching for some materials for a conference I will be giving tomorrow (Peace building in Preschool Classrooms), I came across some clothes my son James never got to wear (his older brother had pulled them out unbeknownst to me, for his teddy bear).
My body slumped. A release of breath came from my lungs. My heart went concave. And the fight to stave off the tears started. It was another whack and I never know from where they will come. I did realize though, that they despite the pain they keep me awake, alive and engaged.
Tomorrow teachers, parents and I will discuss how to teach conflict resolution strategies to our youngest community members. Our universal hope that when outcomes are not ideal, they will be able to be honest, open, transparent, compassionate, and strong enough to find a peaceful resolve.
Roaring in laughter, I agreed it seemed a spot-on description and reason why I might get so many headaches.
In sharing a variety of experiences, opinions, successes and failures, I have been beaten around a little bit for them. Including a recent unexpected series of harassing phone calls and emails from a surgeon who seemed to misunderstand (and appeared quite threatened by) my goals for transparency and disclosure in health care. Whether it has been a tragic rift with family & friends because of poor or lacking communication or a medically trained clinician I have never met, my head still hurts from the blows. I never seem to know where they will come from, so like other grievers I go undercover to protect myself.
My assessor explained what he was seeing. A teacher, restorative practices facilitator, consultant, health care advocate and activist, an author, and a freelance writer.
But, I am also, most importantly, a mom. Despite the personal aches, the job description requires me to keep popping up to make sure the children are safe.
Parents are dogmatic in their search for the best for their family - a recipe that will be different for each family. Sometimes we must look back at our history to remember what we are doing in the present as we are working for a better future for our grandchildren.
In searching for some materials for a conference I will be giving tomorrow (Peace building in Preschool Classrooms), I came across some clothes my son James never got to wear (his older brother had pulled them out unbeknownst to me, for his teddy bear).
My body slumped. A release of breath came from my lungs. My heart went concave. And the fight to stave off the tears started. It was another whack and I never know from where they will come. I did realize though, that they despite the pain they keep me awake, alive and engaged.
Tomorrow teachers, parents and I will discuss how to teach conflict resolution strategies to our youngest community members. Our universal hope that when outcomes are not ideal, they will be able to be honest, open, transparent, compassionate, and strong enough to find a peaceful resolve.
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