Found

Last night I had a very profound experience and the strangest dream. I had to share both here. Neither has anything to do with the classroom, or maybe they do. You be the judge.

Perhaps I should back up. Remember when I said about two months ago that teachers tend to be a little screwed up? Okay, I guess that's a blanket statement, and maybe I should rephrase. Many of the teachers I've met over the years and have come to know the best have lives that mirror that of their students'. They've been abused, they've struggled with substance abuse, they were homeless, etc. These individuals become teachers, I think, because an adult helped them at the moment they needed it the most, and they want to pay it forward. At least that's the case with me.

One of the many ways in which my childhood mirrors my students' is that I spent some time in the foster care system. To make brief what could be a long story, my mother was unprepared and undecided when I was born, so I lived with a foster family until she thought she was ready. I didn't know about this family until I was eleven when I found a baby picture of myself with a different name on the back: Jodi. After I confronted my family about it, I heard the story, but of course I wanted more; I wanted to meet this family. When I was about 20 or 22 years old, I sought out this family, and I was surprised. I was obviously loved and cared for by this family, but nothing can really ever be what we create it to be in our minds. I say that because I really went looking for my foster mother, and while I found her, I really found my foster sister. We made an instant connection, and it was her to whom I felt so attached. Unfortunately we lost touch, and that had more to do with my being young and immature at the time.

For whatever reason, my foster sister had been on my mind a lot over the past few months, so before I flew to my hometown for winter break, I made it point to find her again. We met up last night after not seeing each other for ten or twelve years, and it was honestly one of the most profound moments of my life. The moment she walked in the restaurant, there was an instant connection I couldn't explain. I loved her and knew her without really knowing her. I learned so much about myself by learning about her. I wondered how could that be, and then she explained that she was really my caretaker, and of all the babies who were in and out of her family's home, I was her favorite. For whatever reason, we connected then and we connected now. We not only share the same birthday but a history of . . . love.

Re-meeting my foster sister felt like a coming home, in a sense. She is not my "mother" because I have a mother--and a foster mother. Instead, she is the person who gave me unconditional love when I needed it the most, and she is a sibling from whom I've been separated for a long, long time. Part of me has felt lost for all of my life, and I think through finding her I've found that part. I think for a lot of my life I've been looking for her without realizing so. I empathize with my students, because so many of them are searching, and now that I know what it's like to have that puzzle piece fit, I understand the significance of that void even more.

I had trouble sleeping last night because my mind was trying to digest all that I was thinking and feeling, but when I finally fell asleep, I had the most bizarre dream. I was in Utah, and a horrible snow storm had moved in. I was at a college, or maybe even a research center, and there were people around whom I knew. All of us were nervous about the snow storm because I was out there in the center of the storm--even though I was also at the college or research center. My friends or colleagues were studying maps and radars to track me down, and it appeared that some of them gave up on finding me because the falling snow was too dense and the weather too cold. I became upset and said they couldn't do that--they had to find me. More and more people were coming to the same conclusion, so I decided to go out in the snow and cold to find myself. I kept yelling my full name over and over again until I heard a noise. I looked up and saw my car--my real car--at the top of this steep hill. A man had apparently found me and drove me and my car over to the college or research center. I was elated and climbed the steep hill to get my frozen body, then I carried my near-death self down the hill to the facility. My body was so light and totally frozen. I kept telling myself I was going to be okay. When I walked inside, everyone was shocked but no one had a plan as to how to revive me because all had assumed I would die in the storm. The next thing I remember is I put myself in a tub of lukewarm water so I could thaw out. That's where the dream ended.

Part of me thinks this dream is about the need to save my spirit from my present circumstances. Part of me thinks this is about my search for my foster sister. Part of me thinks it's about both and how the two have to do with each other. Either way, I'm listening.