Oreos and Ice Cream

I knew the data. I knew what was going to happen. I knew that eating ice cream, oreos, and fried everything was not nutritious. I knew that I’ve purchased new clothes in a size larger than last year. I knew that I hated looking at pictures of myself. I knew that I was shoving emotions with food. I knew that my blood pressure was high. I knew that I could never again say thigh gap without spitting out my said ice cream, oreos, or French fries dipped in my ice cream.

But then I went to the doctor for a routine visit. It was then that I knew. The nurse took my vitals. My blood pressure was high for me. And when that number popped on the scale I almost gasped. I probably would have if I hadn’t had that oreo in my mouth. The doctor was completely honest with me when he looked at my chart. He was kind. He was worried. He was honest. He told me that he understood the last two years have been difficult and he understood that life was different for me now. But he reminded me that I have two young boys who didn’t need their mother to have a stroke from high blood pressure or a heart attack from eating fried food and an overworked heart by weighing too much.  He was brutally honest.

I didn’t like it. But I couldn’t disagree with it either.

 I had to make a change. And I have. Nothing drastic. I mean, I really can’t shock my body too much, too fast. It is a gradual release of sugar and fried foods. I’ve started exercising again. Well, as much as I can with a crazy insane schedule that I keep. I’m cooking more and going out to eat less. I am watching carefully what I purchase at the grocery store. And I’m proud to say I’ve dropped a couple of pounds-again nothing drastic.

This weekend as I was writing comments on report cards, I thought back to that brutal honesty. My doctor wasn’t mean. In fact, he was very kind. He spent a lot of time with me-much more than family doctors do these days. But he told me the truth. The truth was awesome because it made me change. To do better, I must know better. Many report cards left me wondering if we are doing the same. Are we carefully letting students and parents know of difficulties? Then I thought about SLC this week. Are we being honest with our parents about their student’s progress? Are we sugar coating? Are we asking for their help? Are we begging for change?

My first year teaching I had the superintendent’s child. Yes, you read that right. My first year teaching. By November I had told the superintendent that the child needed to repeat. My principal almost fired me or killed me on the spot. In June, the superintendent came to my classroom. I really thought he was delivering my exit papers. He came over to my desk and asked if he could hug me. I stood up and he had tears in his eyes. He told me I was the first honest teacher his child had had and he appreciated it.  

Courage. Honesty. These are very valuable traits of an excellent teacher.