Ebb and Tide of Change

Economic globalization is everywhere and can’t be ignored by the incredible ramifications it has on everyone. No one is exempt from the influences of a global economy. As a freelance writer, I must seek out the jobs which may provide some income for my family, however, the competition is always there. Currently, as more people in the world learn English, they seek these writing opportunities because the Americans and native English countries pay more because the cost of living is different in Pakistan, India, Africa and South America. Plus, an individual who can read and write more than one language is a valuable asset to any company, and writers more so. A fluent bilingual writer can secure more jobs than an individual with only one language.
In terms of the technological advancement, freelance writers who know or have more IT experience gain more employment than others. It is worthwhile to keep learning. As a certified teacher, knowing more about technology helps me to be more employed in the movement toward more online learning, especially for the increasing number of students who are becoming home schooled in the elementary grades. Trends in education are changing to the point that unions are going to have a more difficult time unless they are able to present contracts for online teachers. With the influence of the technology in education, bigger changes are going to be made in administration as teachers learn they can easily find work that feels more respected without the emphatic hoop-jumping involved in a brick-and mortar-school. As an online teacher at the elementary level, teachers can reach their dream of balance: work and family.
As new companies are created, such as Teachers Pay Teachers, the work dynamics change in the schools and outside. Some teachers are using this company to gain respect and recognition for the hard work they do often times creating personalized curriculum for that particular group in the classroom, for with no other materials work. One teacher is said to have made $17,000 in addition to her salary with the school district where she lives. Many other teachers who take a maternity leave, use this company to help them support themselves while being at home with their family. Trends in labor are changing, not just in education. If employees or the labor force doesn’t seek to be employable by increasing job skills and jumping on the life-long, learning bus, there will be many unemployed.

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Treading Water

The pants were thrown at me from across the room. I needed to cover myself, but the sleep held me from reaching. I hate the feeling of used emotions, repeatedly occurring only to find no resolve. Anger and distrust grows from within seeking a refuge of continuous self-pity as the demand for my attention by each individual child grows. Doing things for me grows less and less, shrinking to a minuscule remnant. I’m feeling pressure to produce; the need to prove; the challenge of making all others bow in acknowledgement of my God-given gifts.

Laboring day and night, cleaning, cooking, wiping noses, giving up my body on command, smiling, always saying what isn’t in my heart. It hurts. I hurt. As I shake the sleepiness that wants to overtake me, I watch him carry on. He hides his emotions, but when he speaks, it sounds like ridicule and disgust for not doing things as he wants them.

I asked my eldest son while I continuously care for our disabled child, “Do you know Mommy loves you?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Do you know that Mommy puts you first?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“How do you know that Mommy puts you and your brothers first?”

He was quiet.

“No pressure,” I said, encouraged by his willingness to talk.

“Hmmm. You always serve us first and make sure we’re okay. You help us make things.”

My heart felt glad to hear such words, soothing the bumps and bruises of my confidence. I finish giving my youngest son his seizure meds through his g-tube and prepare the liquid food that nourishes him five times daily because it was medically necessary and piggy-back for his safe airway. Ever since that fateful October evening, we’ve changed. All of us have changed. Every member of our sweet family has changed. My eldest can often be heard crying to himself, “Why did he have to get hit by the truck? If only it never happened.”

I agree. I wish it never happened. My husband wishes it never happened. We fight and bicker about the presentation of the house, about my habits he never agreed to live with.

Angel Power Grows

This day. This amazing day. He shines his smile, hitting anyone in its way with warmth and charm. He grows. He works harder than I have ever seen him work. As he rode in the train with his nurse, his head thrown back to release the exulting joy to be moving in something so gleeful. I marvel at his delight, as he moves with the tiny tot train made from a riding mower. The man or engineer looked over sized for such a vehicle. He smiled and waved at all who connected visually. The Buddy Walk never had a train before. This year’s train was great for the excitement children were already thinking when Christmas truly arrives.

Before arriving to the Annual Buddy Walk, we sat in the car, patiently waiting for the traffic to change because the light had, however, no one was moving, and red-blue sirens were sounding in my rear view mirror, impatiently waiting for the traffic to find a way to pull aside and let them through. It became a sudden reminder of a day not so far away, where my angel was in need of rescue. My oldest son said, “Mommy, someone got hurt?”

“Yes, Sam”, was my reply. “Pray for them.”

“Dear Jesus, please make the hurt person all better. Amen”

“Amen.” I kept looking around to see how bad the situation was, and whether I had it worse. I did. Thankfully, two of the three drivers were able to leave their cars. The third seemed unconscious. Rescue workers were checking her pulse and neck. I turned away from watching, realizing I would cause another accident if I didn’t turn my focus in front of me. Our thoughts sober and thinking about the unconscious driver; her windshield broken, the air bag released. When I turned to my rear view mirror centered on my angel, I noticed his head stacked forward as if his neck didn’t have strength to hold up his head. As we pulled in to the parking area, I noticed he still didn’t move. We awakened him with water. He perked up some, but seemed to wilt like a flower in too much sun. We pushed ourselves toward a shaded area where he could flourish, and he did. Swinging his arms vivaciously whenever the train came by him.

My reflections tell me we are not alone. As my angel continues to progress and find his way back home to his immensely loving family, I know that he is different and will remain different. I may or may not be dealing  with a complete child. He has great lengths to go.His “isms” remain uniquely his own. Thankfully, this amazing day held much more healing.