Julie Unplugged

The Final Days of Being an Elementary School Mom

Samuel hiking in the Utah Desert: Summer, 2012

I watched Samuel walk from the car toward school this morning. I still carry incredulity in my front pocket when I realize this is the very last month of my career as an elementary school mother. I’ve been doing this elementary school mommying gig since 1990 so it is more than a wee bit shocking to realize, especially with my beloved son being my final elementary school student.

 

I often equate his schooling with pain and sadness and fighting and exhaustion and wondering “Will this ever get better?” The girls were a breeze. I never thought about it with them much. Now, with Samuel, I am nearly always on red alert for the school to call to tell me something happened: something bad, either to Samuel or because of Samuel.

Then I watch him on a hiking expedition with friends and see him energetically lead the way. I see how he gives all that leadership fun up in order to “help me” across the creek. I watch him create videos and laugh and write comedic scripts and I realize there is so much more to him than he usually shows. I watch his concentration and joy as he rides his bicycle.

Tomorrow I will be visiting the junior high he will be attending. I told him this morning I would be going there. “Why?” he asked.

“I need to check it out before you go and make sure it is a decent place!”

He seemed satisfied.

I hope I am satisfied.

People tell me they can’t tell he has autism. This is one of the challenges of not being neurotypical. If you are high functioning enough, you just seem like every other child until you are watched more carefully.

Today is Samuel’s birthday. He is twelve years old. He has taught me so much about both deep, profound pleasure and deep, profound pain. I need to remember the pleasure more as well as make more opportunities to experience pleasure with him.

Samuel and Mommy

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

What Stories Are Your Eyes Trying to Tell Me?

I don't know anything about her but her eyes call to me.

I have no idea who she is or when she lived, where she lived and how she died. All I have is this photo I bought at a Bakersfield antique store. On a shelf there is a big box stuffed with photos: portraits, vacation snapshots, military headshots, babies. Most are in black and white, some are signed, some give me the tiniest hint of who these people were.

Mostly they just give me curiosity.

I never knew going to the antique store could bring me so much writing pleasure as well as creative pleasure since I focus on many of these photos I collect in my mixed media pieces.

“Why did your photo end up for sale for twenty-five cents at an antique store? Where is your family, who should be treasuring your face as least as much as I do?”

I love this gal so much she now has a place beside me on my desk.  

I look into her eyes, and I think she was uncomfortable. Look how her knuckles are, tucked against her chin. She seems to be holding them awfully stiffly. Her tiny, corseted waist, adorned by a large buckle also makes me curious. How long has she been corseted so tightly?

I can’t even estimate her age or when she lived, but she looks an awful lot like a Gibson girl.

I wonder if any of photos of me will wind up for sale for the equivalent of a quarter in an antique store bin very few people peruse?

Why not try it yourself later today or even right now?

Go to google and do an image search of “young woman, 1900’s” and see who pops up.

What are her eyes, fingers and waist speaking to you?

I feel like all of these people, like me, never imagined their faces would be bought by a stranger and then written into something called a blog post. Somehow I feel it is part of my job to keep these people alive and give their stories a chance to surface, even if they are totally fictitious at least they are something more than sitting in a box for decades.

You may see your own eyes in someone’s eyes.

Search and then look. Question and then write.

Let me know how it goes.

 

This post is Number 10 of 30 and was inspired by the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Throughout the month I will be posting writing and creativity tips especially to make your writing (and your writing experience!) better.

I'm so glad you are here!

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#Scintilla Day 5: Not Completely Thought Out but the Heart is All Over It

Today's prompt from the folks at Scintilla13  goes like this:

What talent do you have that your usual blog readers don't know about? Talk about a time when you showed it to its best advantage.

I don't know how closely I followed the prompt, but believe it or not, the thoughts have been running in the background all day. My writing to it is sort of like burping up thoughts and trying to make those burps into a song. Please excuse the technical difficulties and enjoy the message.

I attribute this talent to my brother John. His verbal language skills were never all that great, but he and I connected deeper than language. Our communication was fully embodied and seemed, to some, ethereal.

It was a spiritual practice, now that I look back on it.

John taught me how to listen with my eyes as well as to catch that listening in the tiniest shift, sometimes in the movement of air or energy rather than anything other people might see or hear. Some people call this empathic but that doesn’t quite describe it.

It is sort of like “intuition unplugged”.

Sometimes when I work with life coaching clients I will ask them, “What’s going on with your shoulder today?” and from three thousand miles away they will report an injury or just a tightness within their muscles. This is more of the empathy way, but I also think of intuition as primarily from the gut.

I’m getting tangled up in words which is ironic because what I am attempting to explain has nothing to do with conventional language.

I remember when John was in the process of dying. Five of the six siblings were together: the largest assembly at his hospital. We wanted to talk with the doctors about John’s treatment when he had been six for a few months. We were all chattering in the doorway to his room or rather others were chattering. John couldn’t speak because of his tracheotomy. I was listening with my eyes.

No one else heard his obvious to me plea, “I can’t see the tv because someone pulled the curtain in front of it. Would someone please move the screen so I can see the tv?”

I did. I also apologized verbally to John for not noticing it more quickly.

He rested his head against the pillow. That day confused him and it was the only time during his illness my Mom saw him cry. We were all there, but we were hovering about and we all left, including Mom, for this meeting. The only person left out was John.

The first time I noticed it was in college, when a group of young women were in my dorm room. There was one quiet girl named Monica who was sitting on one of the couches. This particular group of college women were very talkative, myself included. My eyes heard Monica had something she wanted to say. I said to her, “Are you feeling well, Monica? Do you need something?”

With that, Monica started to tear up.

She had been longing to be heard. My eyes heard her, first. In another crowded room with all sorts of chatter, I heard the one who needed to be heard with my eyes first.

I realize now not everyone can do this.

It is a continuing spiritual practice, one I need to remember. I practice with people, with trees, with birds. I slow down and bend my body - be it my ears, my mind, my eyes - and listen.

Are you listening, too?

Kris and Jimmy, where are you now? I'm sitting in an almond orchard in Bakersfield, California.

 

This post was inspired by the folks at Scintilla13 - Here's what they have to tell us:

We believe that who we are is informed by our stories. Here, we want to offer you a space to introduce yourself, and a guide to share your history and make some connections along the way. We’ll be offering daily prompts for two weeks beginning on March 13th.

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

Happy St. Patrick's Day: To Some, Green is Just a Happy Color in the Crayola Box

I didn't truly realize how bad my relationship with the color green continues to be until I saw today's Stream of Consciousness Sunday prompt at Jana's Thinking Place.

Today's prompt:

What does green make you think of and how does it make you feel?

Little did sweet Jana know....

I can’t remember if I ever had a normal relationship with the color green.

Granted, I look at different shades of green in different ways. For example, if teal is considered green, then I would have to tell you, “Ohmigawsh! I love green!” but if you are talking about the garden variety crayola green, I would have to say, “No. No thank you, I am not a green

License - Creative Commons from Flickr.com Some rights reserved by Kara Allyson

fan.”

Miss Wick, my kindergarten teacher, made a heinous mistake on the first day of kindergarten which did not start our relationship well. For my cubby label, she gave me a name tag that declared “Julie” in that crayola classic green. I almost started crying out, “I am not green, Miss Wick, you have mistaken me for my sister! I am pink! Any shade of pink or some yellows but never ever green!”

The truth is, Miss Wick probably wished I was more like my sister. Perhaps she thought if she gave me this crayola green label I would magically turn into the tomboy, outspoken, rough and tumble sister Sue rather than the deer-in-the-headlamp-quietly-stubborn and would-rather-sit-on-the-steps-and-watch-than-play-that-old-worn-out-game-with-the-likes-of-you.

It all started with that damn green cubby label screaming “Julie, I know you hate it but face the facts you are GREEN!”

There is a family legend about the 26 inch Schwin Breeze I received for Christmas in the third grade. I raced right past the thing to get to my stack of gifts. Mom said, “Julie, didn’t you see your bicycle?” I looked over my shoulder as I admired my new Velvet doll and said, dismissively, “Isn’t that for Sue?”

My Mom feels guilty about that moment still, forty years later.

The thing is, that shiny Schwin breeze with my name hand lettered in white paint clearly couldn’t be mine because it was green. Sue likes green. We have established here my thoughts about green. Worse than just crayola green, it was an unlikely cross between hunter green and olive green, if you can imagine that combination. There was no glitter, no basket, no beautiful shimmery qualities at all.

That is why I thought it was for my sister.

If my Mom took note of what I liked, she wouldn’t have bought me that bicycle that got stolen from my backyard several years later. I didn’t even care that much.

I know green is supposed to be about abundance and prosperity and health and all that, but for me, that green that people get all googly-eyed about does nothing for me. St. Patrick’s Day was tough because I rarely buy anything remotely green unless it crosses over into that blue green realm of teal.

You can only imagine how I feel when people call my blue eyes green. Images of Miss Wick and unwanted bicycles float before my eyes, unforgivingly. “My eyes are blue, thank you for not noticing.”

Confession: This post took slightly more than five minutes to write. Rants tend to do that.

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This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post (in the sidebar). .
• Link up your post at Jana's Thinking Place.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love. 

Julie Jordan Scott is a Creative Life Coach, a Poet Performer, a Writer and a Mommy Extraordinaire. Stay in touch with her via twitter or facebook or you may always call or text her at 661.444.2735 to arrange a complimentary coaching session. Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot  

 Be sure to "Like" WritingCampwithJJS on Facebook. (Thank you!)

© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

Hiking + My son + My friends + My spontaneous walking stick = Heaven on Earth

Go up the hill: you will find friends in the meadow, waiting for you.

Sunday: Today I have a date to go hiking with a group of friends as well as a few friends-to-be invited by the other hikers.

 

I first did this as an adult only a few years ago. A mixed, eclectic group of people with children and without stretching from our twenties to our fifties for the adults and from eight years old through teen –spread out across the Mill Creek Trail in the Kern Canyon. Michelle and I decided to recreate this trip but with more people this time around.

We want to celebrate our time together with VDAY Bakersfield, 2013.  This is an annual event where women gather to raise awareness and money to end violence against women and girls. Naturally it creates a unique and if it is done right, unforgettable and lasting bond. Michelle and I became friends several years ago because of VDay and we both know we will continue to be close friends only if we connect in between runs of the annual show/awareness/fundraiser.

Hiking is a great way to connect and reconnect. No matter your age, you may participate. Your fitness level doesn’t entirely matter because there will be others similarly matched.

I am actually not completely afraid I will bring up the rear unless I do it by choice.

I am taking my son, Samuel, who has autism again, even though he melted down last time, pretty severely.

Samuel Revisits a Triumph from Earlier Years: Rockcliming for an Audience of Appreciative Onlookers

This year I have taken several measures to prevent a recurrence and I feel confident all the memories we make will be positive. After all, he remembers the fun from last time at this point, not the melt down. This is a mark of good friends and lots of optimism in the air.

 

Samuel asks me questions from the bedroom. “What friends are you taking?” he asks, preparing himself for who he will meet on the trail and on the drive into the canyon. He acts as if I am the center of this expedition. In a way I am.

The time to worry about the hike is over. The time to put sunscreen on my face and my stuff in the car is here.

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This is the hiking group that assembled: 18 humans + two dogs (My left arm is covering the "Most Difficult" warning! Photo by Tish Gamez

Thursday: I found this beginning of a blog post from last Sunday and I wanted to add a post script: we had a great time Sunday. Eighteen people gathered and hiked the trail which we thought was fairly easy before we started but we discovered upon returning to our cars it was graded as “Most Difficult”.

 

I lagged behind to take photos and to experience the trail alone with the others and Samuel was the trailblazer, leading us all. He gained confidence, I gained freedom as I trusted the other hikers to be substitute caretakers. He felt loved as did I. I made new friends and as we sat eating lunch on an enormous boulder, I noticed this wasn’t just a random boulder, it was also a grinding rock from the Yokutz people who lived here years ago.

Lunch atop a Yokutz Grinding Stone, Deep in the Kern Canyon

Mike, one of our most able and enthusiastic hikers added, after I exclaimed my noticing, “And look, they must have sat in a circle as they worked.”

 

The photos of the day show me with a smile on my face, over and over again. Big, goofy, satisfied smiles lit up my face as I strode along the path, happy as a slow-flying lark, to borrow a term from my Mother.

My friends and I have decided we will take monthly hikes from now on and maybe, possibly, do a couple camping weekends. We are building a loving community as we walk and discover new places. We are blessed.

I couldn't stop smiling. Hiking + My son + My friends + My spontaneous walking stick = Heaven on Earth

 

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

How to Make Simple DIY Postcards with Items You Have at Home Now

Postcards here from Dana Point, San Francisco and Bakersfield

It was well over fifteen-years-ago when my now thirty-one year old daughter went off to Summer Camp bringing along her exchange student “sister” from France. Sandra, the student, was a young woman I fell in love with instantly.

It is an unspoken rule that one must send mail to her children at camp, so I decided I wanted to send postcards. Instead of Bakersfield postcards, though, I sent postcards cataloguing Sandra’s visit so far. My favorite postcard was of the two of us with our arms around a street kid on Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles near the Chinese Theater. Back then, the homeless teens would pose with you if you gave them a dollar.

Since those days, the characters around the Chinese theater have gotten quite professional. Last Summer they were working in teams and one particularly aggressive Superman told me it was $3 a photo for each of them. I liked it better when it was children working for food.

I’m getting off course, though. What I wanted to share with you is this: if you are like me and can’t find the most picturesque postcards, why not take literally seconds and make your own with items you more than likely have in your home right now.

Choosing Your Photos May Be What Takes the Most Time!

Supplies:

One or more 4 X 6 index card(s)

One or more 4 X 6 photo(s)

Spray adhesive (or other glue, I just like how spray adhesive adheres)

One of more recipient(s) happy to receive your mail.

Here are the couldn’t be simpler than this steps:

1. Line up your index cards and choose the photos for the postcards you plan to make during that session.
2. Spray adhesive on up to three index cards at a time.
3. Carefully line up the photo with the index card and press them together.
4. To feel secure about the adhesion, you may want to put your fresh cards underneath a large reference book just for extra assurance.
5. Write your note and send it off!

Today I am making cards from Jack Kerouac Alley in San Francisco, the beach in Dana Point, Emily Dickinson’s home in Amherst, Massachusetts, the Mojave Desert and finally some scenes around the town I call home, Bakersfield. The inspiration to make postcards is the February Letter Writing exchange called “Lettermo”. Some of the participants collect and send postcards. Since I like to give people what they want, I figure, “Postcards it is!”

Tonight I am taking a friend to the airport in Los Angeles and I plan to spend the evening there, visiting some places I have never been in the past. As I made my postcards this morning I realized how much my photography has changed over the years and decided to challenge myself to take some uniquely Los Angeles photos I will turn into post cards tonight.

You can even do this when you travel. I use Walgreens to develop my photos, so you could simply upload your photos to the Walgreens website and get them printed in whatever city you are visiting at the time. How fun for your friends at home to have a tangible photo with a handwritten note about your trip to Zion National Forest with your children’s faces smiling back at them?

Sharing online is great, but do you remember receiving your last postcard in the mail? 

If you make extra postcards, you will have plenty for your next mailing or to write while you are the passenger on your road trip. You may have your children decide which photos to use or write a note to Granny or Mr. Lollar or the teen who is feeding your cats at home.

My daughter is at Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts. I may send her a postcard of my and Elmo soon: yes, I had a photo taken with a life size Elmo the last time I was in Hollywood.

Like most creativity, it has inspired me to make more art.

When will you take a moment to make and send some personalized, artful postcards?

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Julie Jordan Scott is a Creative Life Coach, a Poet Performer, a Writer and a Mommy Extraordinaire. Stay in touch with her via twitter or facebook or you may always call or text her at 661.444.2735 to arrange a complimentary coaching session.

Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot  

 Be sure to "Like" WritingCampwithJJS on Facebook. (Thank you!)

© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

Ten Top Ways to Create a Friendly, Supportive Environment So Your Teen & Her Friends will Flock to Your Home.

Not long ago my teen told me her friends declared to her, “Your Mom loves you too much.” What I think they meant was, “Your Mom sure loves you a lot! (and I wish my Mom showed her love as much as your Mom does.) I decided it might help if I shared some of what I do in order to make my daughter feel loved and her friends the teensiest bit wistful… and hope they build even better relationships with their Moms.

• Make your home a teen-friendly environment. Don’t be a helicopter hostess but do have
  

  Hosting Study Groups is a great way for my teen to get her homework done.
  snacks and drinks available and plentiful.

• Treat teen’s friends with respect. Ask friendly questions and compliment something about them each time you see them.

• Take your hospitality to school: I pack extra cookies in my daughter’s lunch. Sometimes I pack extra entrée-foods as well. I have found with teens that offering food = making quick friends.Also consider a Pizza Friday. Take four or so pizza’s to your teen at lunch hour on a random Friday. The concept is to share pizza and make friends. It works!

• Become the study group hub for your teens and your teen’s friends. My teen finally learned the value of study groups and now they are a regular occurrence at our home and her friend’s homes. It doesn’t only help them build relationships, it helps them increase their grades as well.

• Spend special one-on-one time with your teen.
  

  My eldest daughter and I had a recent day to ourselves. We both benefited!

• When possible, invite other Mom-teen pairings so that you will all benefit. We did this at an art museum in Pasadena so we traveled together, ate together, went on a tour together and afterwards, had more depth to each relationship in our group.

• Do service with your teen and her friends following her nudges or ideas rather than what you want to do. If you follow only your interest, the service may become a grudge-builder rather than a relationship builder. If she likes animals, volunteer to help at an animal shelter even though you would rather plant gardens or deliver meals to the elderly.

• Include your teen and her friends in planning their next big event. My daughter and her friends will be here next week to prepare for the formal. My participation will be primarily in readying the space as well as providing snacks, mirrors and lights, perhaps hair spray and the like.

• Be the parent who is happy to drive your teen and her friends to events.  I drive my daughter
  

  After their performance, they had pizza with other singing friends. I drove.
  and her choir friends to performances. A bonus is I usually sit in my car and read or write while they are inside, so I get some bonus “me” time while building a relationship with my daughter and her friends.

• Don’t wait until your teen is in high school to start implementing these ideas. If you wait that long, it might be too late.

 

 

 

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

 

 

 

This is my thirteenth post (of 31!) for the January Ultimate Blog Challenge. Watch here for challenge posts which will include Writing Prompts, Writing Tips and General Life Tips and Essays.

Cultivating Relationships: Starting at the Very Beginning - with our Parents

Today's prompt from Meredith and her Cultivate12 project:

Parents: Whether they're still alive or long since passed, biological or adopted, our parents were the first people to teach us about relationships. How can you cultivate a stronger, healthier relationship with them? How can you reconcile your past with your present and future?

I am blessed. My relationship with my parents just keeps getting better.

They are celebrating their sixtieth wedding anniversary on December 26. The party will include one fewer child for them, my brother John passed away in between the fiftieth anniversary and this one. They will have their first Great Grandchild: darling Paloma. I imagine my niece will be there: the one who my sister gave up for adoption and we miraculously found her… I can’t remember the exact dates, but I know she wasn’t at the last party.

My Dad & My Kids hiking & geocaching several years ago in Flagstaff

My parents have gotten softer as they’ve gotten older. Their blacks and whites are smudgy. My Dad is always happy. He loves where he lives, he is very active, and when he answers the phone we actually talk. In the old days he would answer and immediately pass me over to Mom.

Dad and I share interests: I visited an abandoned Mill in Northern California and I called my Dad, so excited to tell him.

When my daughter had a history project, Mom sent a geneology report. My happiest finding is the first child born in the United States from my mother’s side of the family was named Samuel and there are many, many Samuel’s in our family tree.

I didn’t know this when I named my Samuel.

Nana & Emma bonding with pumpkins and apples in Tehachapi this October

Mom visited in October after my surgery. We had perhaps our best visit yet. We made stuff together, we visited an art museum, we laughed together and we picked apples and pumpkins together. The unique pumpkin she picked out became a jack-o-lantern in one of the spots where my brother John’s ashes are buried.

She had it photographed it for me. It is almost like I was there. John and I were exceptionally close, so it meant more than words can say to be “included” in the celebration.

I will continue to do as I have been doing: caring, communicating and experiencing life together.

It is never enough since they live in Flagstaff and I live in Bakersfield, but via Facebook – I get to “see” them regularly.

 

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

What Do You Want to Not Forget (Because You Want to Remember it Fully) from 2012

Hope asks her group of Reverb12 folks to do this: 

Name Five things I want to remember from 2012.

1. 1.       The way it felt to be cheated on… or to find out I was being cheated on… by someone I never dreamed would cheat on me. I want to remember this so that I will never, ever, ever feel it again and yes – the person in question is still in my life. We are working through it and if this is stupid of me, I will know soon enough and will save our grand finale as a birthday gift to myself.
2. 2.       I don’t want to forget running through downtown between shows I was in. I put my costume for Marat/Sade on in one theater and with my curly hair flying I ran in corset, layers of layers and jumped in my car to get to that next theater. It is the closest to being Cinderella I will ever get.
3. 3.       I do not want to forget being in Mesa Verde National Park with my children.
4. 4.       I do not want to forget Emma’s continuing success in school, especially when she won the statewide journalism award.
5. 5.       I do not want to forget how it feels to have Katherine in Scotland for a semester and the fact I now wish she could stay longer, for her own sake. I don’t like having six thousand miles, a continent and an ocean between us, but I certainly hope she is sucking the marrow out of each moment in Edinburgh and beyond.

 

At Mesa Verde National Park with my girls

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

The Unlikely Joy in Singing Karaoke as a Family

We started singing karaoke as a family before Emma was born. I believe she would say “I was a fetus at the time.”

Katherine would sing “Amazing Grace” as a preschooler with me singing softly in her ear so she would get the words. Bianca, then in high school, would sing something like Madonna or a something from the Bare Naked Ladies – a band whose name I struggled to remember.

One night when I was pregnant with Samuel and at the end of my rope I went to a bar to sing. Just to sing. An old friend from the first days of karaoke saw me and invited me to sit with her and her friends. I suppose it looked strange, a very pregnant woman waddling in, looking for respite from life away from recorded music to sing along to with full commitment.

Emma joined us and in preschool  she very earnestly sang “Ooops, I did it again” at a favorite pizza haunt that has been since turned into a barbeque joint. Samuel was a baby then and got passed around other loving people because this is what happens with karaoke, people just grow to continually show up and we grow to love each other and encourage each other.

There were times all four kids were there with ages ranging from 8 months to 20 years. I was, ofcourse… double the eldest child’s age.

It seems silly, and I admit, perhaps it is. These days Emma and I enjoy doing ridiculous sing-offs. We have done Carrie Underwood sing offs and Britney Spears sing offs. She always kicks my butt. Always.

We decided next time we are going to do a duet of “I’ve Got You Babe.” Somehow she gets to be Cher and I am stuck being Sonny. How did that happen?

The best thing about karaoke is I always go home happier than when I arrived. How often do you say that about an outing with your family?

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

  Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She leads Writing Camp with JJS & next year she will be traveling throughout the US to bring this unique, fun filled creative experience to the people wherever she finds the passion & the interest.

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