November 19, 2010

November is a shitty month.

Usually, it's just starting to turn cold. Not October-cold, but wintery-cold. No more will two sweatshirts do it. You actually have to dig out your winter coat and prepare for a long winter.

November 2010 was indeed, a shitty month.

I was four months into my disastrous year at my new teaching job. A job that I made the decision to take not even a year and a half after my dad passed away, and not even a full year since I had been exonerated by my school for allegations of discrimination and "being an indecent human being."

I was taking a cocktail of little blue crazy pills, white uppers, green downers and was walking around like a zombie. The closer that I got to November 19, 2010 the more like a zombie I began to feel.

It was surprising that I could feel anything at all.

Even though the sun was shining that day, it was still bitterly cold. The type of cold that you really need gloves for, but you forgot them at home because you're not quite ready for this weather yet. So you're in some sort of denial, like if you don't wear the gloves, the sun will keep you warm.

Of course, maybe I forgot my gloves that day because I really couldn't feel anything.

Regardless, I parked and walked inside the state building that houses the Board of Educational Examiners. The same board that would be reviewing my case and making a decision on it that day.

Inside, I met my best friend. Out of the goodness of her heart, she met me downtown so I would have someone there with me.

I remember thinking how smart she was to have worn gloves.

We took the elevator up to the third floor. The whole time, I was reciting my case number so I knew immediately when it was up for discussion and be aware when they ruled on it.

It was an extremely quiet ride.

The union was sending someone to the same meeting to take notes, most likely for all the other teachers who were brought to this same place by disgruntled students, parents, or actions of their own accord, most likely illegal and unethical. I knew that as soon as a ruling came down and the meeting ended, I would be getting a phone call or email telling me what the verdict was.

But I had waited four long months for this meeting t take place. I had been waging this battle for three long years. I didn't want to rely on someone who was "there to take notes." I wanted to hear it for myself.

NOT GUILTY. 

So in to the meeting room we went. It was cramped and I didn't say much to my best friend. I thanked her for being there, but for the most part, just having another human there to comfort me should shit hit the fan was enough. I didn't want to jinx the outcome by talking about it.

The case that was up for discussion before mine was apparently a doozy, because they asked to go to a closed session. So we all filed out of the meeting room and took up seats in the lobby. And sat there for almost two hours.

Numb to any feeling at all by that point, I kept my jacket on the whole time.

Finally, we were shepherded back into the meeting room and before I knew what was happening, my case number was announced.

The verdict was going to go one of three ways. In lay-man's terms, 1) I didn't do anything wrong, as proven by the facts. 2) It was undetermined that I did anything wrong, but the school has already taken action, therefore warranting no action by the Board of Educational Examiners or 3) Action as proven by testimony and/or proof warranted by the Board of Educational Examiners. The first two are good. The third is bad. The third is what happens when you hear about it on the news. The Board of Educaitonal Examiners revokes your license, or puts you on probation. The second is worse than the first in that the Board of Educational Examiners is stating that yeah, you might have done something wrong, but the school has already handled it and there is no need for them to step on the school district's toes. The first is what everyone wants.

The first is what I got.

NOT GUILTY is essentially what the first verdict states.

You didn't do anything wrong.

YOU ARE FREE.

"The testimony and proof shows this case warrants no action taken by the Board of Educational Examiners and is therefore, dismissed."

You would think I would have leapt for joy upon hearing that. It was finally over.

I just sat there.

Finally, as they were reading the verdict for the case following mine, I told my best friend we could get up and leave.

We left. I remember she was so happy for me, hugging me from the side as we exited the elevator and walked toward the sunshine.

I remember thinking how warm it looked outside. And how I was excited to get outside and feel that warmth.

But when I opened the door, I didn't know what to do. It was the most bizarre feeling knowing that I had just been exonerated and that these parents could no longer do anything to me, my family and my career, and I couldn't even muster up the energy to put a skip in my step.

I walked with my hands in my pockets, my head down, and pushed through the door.

I couldn't even tell how cold it really was outside. Or how warm it was.

I had no idea.

I hugged my friend, thanked her profusely for coming and supporting me, and we went our separate ways. In the car, I text my family and friends letting them know I had been exonerated. And as the text messages came back, as my mom was crying and exclaiming on the phone how thrilled she was, I felt absolutely nothing.

I tried to sound more jovial about it. I tried to sound more upbeat and thrilled that I no longer had to have sleepless nights, dissociative states, and horrible anxieties.

But I was dead-pan. There was absolutely no emotion. I just remember thinking how I was glad I forgot my gloves so I wouldn't have to worry about texting with them on. Or how I was sad I forgot my gloves because my hands were freezing.

Looking back, that was how far they had broken me down. I could hardly feel joy for anything, including being given my life back.

I'm happy to say that a few months later, I didn't want my uppers any more. I didn't want the downers to help me sleep. I didn't want the little blue crazy pills.

By May, I was able to feel again. I was able to smile and laugh and make plans with my husband. We were going to start a family and I was thrilled to become a mom.

It took a long time to get back from where I was. It was a long road with a lot of people helping me along the way.

And although November is a shitty month, I am grateful for every November since then, because I can finally feel again.

And for that, I am thankful.