Working with The Unexpected

This past week I accepted a job as a kindergarten substitute teacher. To my surprise, I had a second-grade class to teach when I arrived. The inner child in me wanted to pitch a fit and leave, but the teacher in me decided to work with the unexpected. That got me wondering how others respond to the unexpected in life. How do you respond to the unexpected? (No, really. Please share.)

Unexpected things in life can be both good and bad. You could get a promotion, that’s good. You could get a pink slip, that’s not so good. The doctor could give you a clean bill of health, or the doctor could pronounce the dreaded disease of cancer. A tree could fall on your house in a storm, or someone could rear end your brand-new car. Your favorite person could pay you a surprise visit. You could find out you’re having twins. The best restaurant ever could go out of business. The one you love could propose. Life is filled with unexpected challenges and pleasures. Sometimes we have to learn to work with them whether we want to or not. We would all rather walk away from disappointment and choose only the “good” things, but that’s not the way of life.

Many years ago, I thought I had achieved my dream occupation as an educator. A friend, my spiritual leader and I joined forces and founded a Chrisitan school. The school grew out of an academic summer camp I had been running for years. We named the school after my great grandparents Will and Mariah Jackson. We started with pre-kindergarten through second grade. Each year we added another grade until we reached grade five. Everything was going well. My godson handled the bookkeeping. My friend’s wife handled the day-to-day office work. The staff was well qualified, and the students were learning and enjoying their teachers and activities. Everything seemed to fall in place. We bought new furnishings for our classrooms from a local school district. A donor gave us enough computers to start a computer lab. This had been my dream for years because my children had been products of this type of school in California. My partner and I were happy with the impact of our little school. Then the unthinkable happened.

One cold winter night, my friend’s wife called me, “He’s gone,” she said. My friend, my spiritual advisor, my business partner had died. Out of nowhere he had a massive heart attack. There were no signs prior to this that warned us. There was no opportunity to bargain or change paths. It was devastating to everyone, especially his wife and family. Grief and sadness filtered down to everyone that knew him – the students, the staff, the members of his congregation, organizational leaders, and even the community at large. Even as I look back now, it hurts my heart. The loss was tremendous, and the empty space could never be filled by another. Eventually, I crumbled, and the school closed.

Why am I talking about this now? Because we live with the unexpected every day. Big things, like the one I just conveyed, and small things like having a cavity. The unexpected is to be expected. Mass shootings at schools, shopping centers, and places of worship; random stray bullets barrowing into homes; senior citizens being scammed out of their life savings; women and children being abducted off the streets, and major companies closing their doors for good are just a few of the unexpected things that can and do occur in our world today. On the flip side there are good, unexpected things as well – new community alliances that pass out food and clothing to the needy; the revitalization of Neighborhood Watch programs; young entrepreneurs creating new jobs; free lunch programs for school-aged children; and unexpected benefactors paying off student debt at the local HBCU. So many unexpected things can happen at any given moment.

Sometimes I find myself trying to explain the world to my 91-year-old mother and my 21-year-old granddaughter. Mom wants to know why things can’t go back to the way they used to be, and my granddaughter wants to know what to expect in the future when things are always changing. Mom experienced loss in so many ways during the pandemic – loss of friends and community, loss of the ability to drive and socialize, loss of freedom – she had to learn to live in a new kind of normal for her own safety. My granddaughter graduated from high school during the pandemic. There was no prom, no graduation ceremony, and no community celebration. Her first semesters at college were spent on-line in the dorm room rather than in person. None of the expected challenges or standards seem to exist in her new world. In other words, mom is trying to adjust to the impersonal world of technology and AI, while my granddaughter is trying to adjust to being thrusted into adulthood with all its responsibilities and none of its former assurances. Each of them – all of us – must learn to work with the unexpected.

We can’t allow the unexpected to leave us halted in fear. We can’t allow the unexpected to styme our growth or our dreams. We shouldn’t just stop in our tracks and wait for the next blessing or disaster to get us moving again. Nor can we allow corruption in high places to corrupt our moral compass and values. We must learn to work with the unexpected, because the unexpected is not going away. We have the tools to do it. We can network with like-minded people. We can elevate our problem-solving skills through study, lectures, think tanks, and podcasts. We can adjust our schedules, become change agents, form or change our inner circles while taking advantage of technology and interpersonal relations. We can work with the unexpected. We simply need to make and stick with a plan to move forward.

I have a friend who says you always need a plan C. C stands for courage, and we all need that when plan A and B fail. Plan C will help us ask for help. Plan C will help us admit it when we are wrong. Plan C will give us the ability to start over. Plan C will allow us to celebrate the victories of others even when our victories stop coming. Plan C will help us navigate and work with the unexpected with a “we can” spirit. In the Words of the Pointer Sisters, and for Women’s History Month, I leave you with the lyrics of their song: “...I know we can make it. I know dare well we can work it out. Oh yes, we can, I know we can, can. Yes, we can, can…” With a little courage, we can work with the unexpected.

Imagine Your Story

Imagine Your Story is the title of the summer reading program sponsored by the collaborative library system. Its goal is to improve language and reading skills for our children and to immerse teens and adults into reading for enjoyment and information. I registered for the program, but I also wondered about the rational behind the theme. I searched the internet to no avail. Yet, the theme intrigues me.

We all have a story. It has a beginning, a middle, and an end even though we may not know what that end is. I would also venture to say, we have another story as well; the story we wish for, hope for, imagine, the story we planned. By the time I graduated from high school, I had my entire life planned. I was going to live on a farm with horses and large sheep dogs. It was going to be huge and fenced in with a white picket fence. I was going to be a successful author living off the novels I produced, and eventually I would have ten children (six boys and four girls, yes my imagination was that vivid.) Needless to say, that is not my reality. Very little of my imagined story has come to past.

Yet, I have to ask myself, would any part of my future have come true if I had not been able to imagine beyond where I was? Would I have accomplished any of my dreams without being able to imagine something different from what I had or what I had seen? Books played a factor in those dreams. Books opened up worlds to me that reached far beyond the ghettos of Cleveland and the farmlands of Tennessee. Books allowed me to “imagine my story” beyond the boundaries of my existence. Reaching for those dreams moved me from one point of emotional and intellectual geography to another.

Books, and those who were instrumental in my receiving the education from and through books, afforded me the opportunity to pursue a future that no one else in my family had achieved. I became the first woman in my family to attend and graduate from college. I became the first women to attain a Master’s degree. I became the first to have a wedding of huge proportions followed by an actual honeymoon. I moved across the country and actually traveled outside of the country. I learned another language (French) and actual had opportunities to use it. I adopted two children, the sons of my heart, and I actually had some poetry published along the way. These and so much more were things of books that became a part of my actual story as a young woman.

So I ask myself now, am I still imagining my story. Have I stopped dreaming? Are all my accomplishments over, or will I continue to “imagine my story?” What about you? Is there still adventure and mystery in your future?

I am not only imagining my story, but I am imagining the story of my children and grandchildren. I am imagining the story of my mother and my friends. It can’t be helped, because they are all a part of my dreams for the future. We need reform, we need national change in policies concerning law enforcement, we need to find a way to end systemic racism. There is no doubt we must become a more humane society valuing all people and all cultures. I imagine this happening in my lifetime as part of my story.

Perhaps, we have too many people who no longer imagine their stories. Perhaps they can not see the plot developing into something good. Perhaps they can’t see themselves becoming the first to experience or accomplish something in their generation for their children and their families. You see, those things I talked about as my life experiences did not only come out of my imagination and my dreams; it came out of my mother’s and my grandparent’s dreams for me. They imagined my story being better than theirs. They imagined my story making a difference for generations to come. They provided a window through books, through education, through faith, and through their own stories to launch me forward into a new and different life.

When we imagine our stories, we must imagine a bright future for everyone, and contribute to it’s existence by every positive means necessary. We can start by reading multi-cultural books to our children and grandchildren. We can promote reading in our young people from every genre. We can continue to “imagine our story” by writing and sharing our stories in our communities and our schools. Yesterday, I spoke to a friend whose parents are in their 90’s and still self-sufficient. Can you imagine the stories they have to tell!

I leave you with these words from a former teacher: “Wake Up! Its time to Dream!”

There’s hope for childhood. Despite a perfect storm of hostile forces that are robbing children of a healthy childhood, courageous parents and teachers who know what’s best for children are turning the tide. Amazon.com
I Have a Dream: Writings and Speeches That Changed the World, Special 75th Anniversary Edition (Martin Luther King, Jr., born January 15, 1929)
“His life informed us. His dream sustained us” -from the Citation of the posthumous award of the Presidential Medal of Freedom Amazon.com