Blah.

What do you write about when you lose inspiration? 

The last two months have been very difficult for me and my family. 

After reaching our 50th state (Vermont), my wife and I ventured out west to conquer 7 different National Parks in 8 days. Or as my wife likes to say, 12 National Parks in 13 days. Both are true. We also celebrated our 27th Anniversary by exploring the Gulf Shores of Alabama, a beach area we’ve actually never visited. 

It was an incredible summer and I was refreshed. I was ready to change the world again as a high school counselor at a large inner-city high school. We were exiting a pandemic and students were returning to in-person learning. Many struggled mightily over the last couple of years, but we were poised to bring them back to normalcy.

That was, until the next mask mandate came. Just a few weeks into the school year. I was befuddled. I had done everything right. Vaccinated at the first opportunity. Wearing a mask, following recommendations and washing my hands diligently. 

My renewed energy from the summer was boosted by the return to school without masks, able to see the smiles and sadness and excitement and frustrations on students’ faces as they shared their journeys with me from the past year and a half. Things were challenging, for sure, but things were moving forward and the prospect of positive change impassioned our efforts.

Then came an abrupt halt in that spirit—a new, updated mandate came down for our district that we would be returning to masks.

My motivation dropped immediately. My spirit waned. My effort, saddened.

Back to masks?!? Nooooo!!!!!

Whether it was the right thing to do or not did not matter to me at the time. I’m not one for political conversations. I had no agenda. I was simply tired of having to wear a mask and I was under the impression we were going to be free of them.

Within a week, I was exhausted and it appeared everyone else was too. That was about two months ago. Not much has changed for us. Except that we are more exhausted than ever.

The year has brought more challenges than ever. Students are not only behind academically due to missing school, but also two years of social and emotional development. TikTok challenges encouraging students to tear apart school bathrooms and facilities. Students releasing their aggression and pent up frustrations on each other. Parents, distraught and at a loss for how to help their children. Mental Health support is overloaded.

Yes, students and parents are dealing with the after effects of going through (and still going through) a pandemic, but so are the leaders. The administrators. The teachers. The support staff. Everyone of them have had to experience the pandemic for themselves and have made their best effort to guide others through as well. 

I recently attended a conference for high school counselors. My hope this year was to find some motivation, some inspiration to keep on keeping on. Out of nine sessions, I attended four or five on burnout or self-care or the like. Unfortunately, the answers were all pretty much the same. Keep doing what you are doing. 

I was already doing everything I knew to do. Except for physical activity. 

My energy had waned. I had been intending to work out for quite some time. In my head. I just couldn’t get my heart to go along with it. 

Now, thanks to those sessions, I have jogged three out of the last five days and did another workout at school led by our great JROTC instructors. I believe it will help.

The vaccine was recently approved for children ages five to eleven. I’m hearing about a lot of hesitancy. I totally understand even though it has been approved by the FDA and the CDC. But, that also makes me feel less hope that this pandemic will end any time soon.

Thus, my feelings of despair continue. 

What does one write about when they lose inspiration? What should I share? 

My reality. This is where I’ve been and why I have lost much motivation.

Not to mention that others have it much worse than I do. 

My wife, for instance, has been dealing with the aging of her parents. The last six months have been a challenge as the family has had to make difficult decisions together on how to best care for them. It has been overwhelming for her and the family.

Many people working in different fields have had to endure much more than education. I can’t even imagine working in healthcare right now. Yet, my 16 year old daughter has been doing that as an STNA at a nursing home while taking college classes as a high school junior, preparing to graduate a year early.

She had her own challenges coming through this pandemic and she has been incredibly resilient while also helping to care for her aging grandparents as much as possible. She has held it together and continued much success. She is an incredible young lady.

I suppose that is where I look for my encouragement. And maybe where we should all look. 

The bright side. The things for which we have to be thankful.

No matter how challenging, there are always bright spots and reasons to be thankful.

I am thankful for a supportive wife who always tries to make me feel better. I am thankful for my middle daughter who is working full-time as a PTA at twenty years of age and attending full-time at OSU to earn a bachelor’s in Criminology online. She is paying for school out of pocket, with no loans. 

My oldest daughter recently transitioned back to Ohio, completed a new EFDA certification in the Dental Assisting field, became a lead dental assistant with her dentist, and moved into her own place (twice) during the pandemic. 

They have all been incredibly resilient during a very difficult time, all working in the healthcare industry. 

I am thankful that I haven’t lost a job. I am thankful that I’ve been able to maintain present employment and continue to serve our community. I am thankful that my relationship with my wife is as strong as ever. I am thankful that I was able to still release my personal memoir (two years in the writing, 48 years in the making) during the pandemic.

I am thankful that my God has never left me. I am thankful to be his chosen son. I am thankful for eternal salvation that I get to experience every day. I am thankful for God’s provision to help us get out of debt during the pandemic and I am thankful for a future that I knew He holds for me.

While times may be tough, we don’t lose hope if we remember how thankful we are for the good things in our lives.

What do you have to be thankful for? What actually went well for you during the pandemic? What have you overcome to be where you are today?

A Walk Down Memory Lane – Loogootee

We took a walk down memory lane this morning. Literally.

It was a bit damp and cool, but the trek took us around a familiar walk for me. We were in Loogootee, Indiana visiting my brother-in-law and nephews after Hoosier Hysteria in Bloomington the night before. 

Loogootee was the site of three of my most memorable childhood domiciles from four chapters of NEVER SETTLED. We woke up early, got our coffee and began to retrace my childhood path from our trailer we lived in during Chapter 6 (1980.)

From Chapters 6 & 7 of NEVER SETTLED: a memoir of a boy on the road to manhood by Shawn D. Congleton.

This is the corner just before the trailer park which is now gone, replaced by two newer homes.

We moved into a run-down trailer park that was really no trailer park at all. In its heyday, this trailer park may have housed ten to twelve trailers. There were about three or four that were still lived in while we were there; the rest of the spaces were vacant. When we turned right into the trailer park off the small town street, we rounded the bend on a dirt road with a lot of overgrown trees, bushes, and tall grass. The area was not well manicured, as lawns and vegetation go. As we turned right, there was a row of trailers on our right and typical southern Indiana woods on our left. Junk or maybe just abandoned cars were strewn throughout the vacant lots and left over trash was spread around in front of people’s trailers.

This was just around the corner from near where our trailer would have been if it was still there.
This would be the same road on the opposite side of where our trailer was, not far from where we found the tadpoles.

Later that day, when we were riding our bikes on the road in our rundown trailer park, we found a snake. Well, we found part of a snake. It was about an inch in diameter and eight to ten inches long. It looked like it had been run over by a car, then run over by a bike, then run over by a lawn mower. It was smashed and cut up to the point that nothing could live through that, I thought. We were all a bit freaked out and disgusted by it, but I guess that’s what boys did. We took home tadpoles to live on our dresser and fiddled around with half-dead snakes. We played with that snake, but from afar using a long stick to poke and prod it. 

    “What the h*ll?!” my brother’s friend yelled as that snake started to slither around. That snake started moving as if it had come back from the dead like a zombie. We all jumped back, but then Jimmy and his friend burst out laughing. I was freaked out. That half-dead or zombie snake had literally moved around and slithered as if nothing happened to it. 

    “These snakes can slither around and move for up to twenty four hours after they die,” my brother explained. He was so freaking smart. When it came to guy stuff, Jimmy knew everything.

    “What? So… it…. is… dead?” I asked quizzically. 

    “Of course, look at it.” He poked and prodded it. It slithered and moved a bit, but it was terribly cut up and smashed. I didn’t know what to think, but Jimmy knew everything so I trusted him. Then my brother reached for his pocket knife and decided that he was going to prove his point. He was a bit afraid I could tell because he wouldn’t just grab that dead snake, but he took his pocket knife and started cutting into the middle of it. After several minutes of playing with his meat, like it was the first steak he had ever eaten, he was able to cut through it. Two snake halves literally laid there on the road and both parts were squirming around. 

    “That’s disgusting! I’m out of here,” I proclaimed and then rode off on my bike by myself. I loved to hang out with my brother, but I wasn’t going to stay there. That snake freaked me out. I rode my bike around the neighborhood for a bit and then headed home. I passed by the city pool on my way that was near the bowling alley. It looked like a great place to swim, but summer was over and even though it was a Sunday, the weather had gotten too cool to swim. It was kind of neat living that close to the pool, but we never got to use it since summer was already over and we weren’t there long enough for the following season. 

The snake was found and dismembered near the puddle here.
This is leaving the area where the snake was found back toward the main road.

(Later in the next chapter)

About that time, the front door opened back up and Terri popped her head in.

“Let’s go,” she said. “Jimmy went on to school, but I couldn’t leave you here. If you get caught, I’m dead. I’m responsible for you. Let’s go!” she exclaimed. I knew I had to go. No choice, but I still didn’t want to. We headed out the door and started walking to school. It was such a long walk and we passed that same bowling alley and city pool that I had always wanted to swim at.

The city pool is in the left here and the old bowling alley is on the right.

Why can’t I just have some sort of a normal life? I wondered as we continued to walk the back way to school. We could have arrived at school a little quicker if we walked the front way, but that would have taken us right down front street by all the business and the cars driving up and down the street at 10:30 in the morning.

We walked by this textile company on the way to school.

We continued up the back way and I thought more and more about how embarrassed I was going to be, having to explain why I was late to the teacher and the other kids in class. We still hadn’t gone to school here for more than a couple of months and I was pretty shy at this age to begin with. Finally, after we had walked three fourths of the way to school, my mind had gotten the best of me and I changed my mind, again.

We started arguing as we walked up this hill just before arriving at school.

“I can’t do it. I’m not going to school,” I pleaded.

“Yes, you are! We are almost there!” she said.

“No, you can’t make me. It’s your fault anyway! You said we were staying home!” I cried.

“Fine, go home. I’m going to school. And I’m going to tell the cops you are skipping school,” she argued. 

Yeah, right, I thought. She is going to tell the cops. They didn’t have cops at schools. She would be lucky to tell the principal. They wouldn’t do anything about it. What are they going to do, come get me?! I thought.

The location where I decided to turn around.

I turned around and started walking back home. Terri went on to school. I walked home wondering if there was any other option. I just couldn’t face my teacher or classmates being late. About a half-mile later when I was about half-way home, I heard a car coming down this less frequently used street. I turned to see how far away it was and to move further over to the far side of the street since there were no sidewalks in this particular area. As I careened my head around, I realized the car was a cop. 

Are you freaking, kidding me?! I thought. Nobody ever drives this street and it happens to be a cop! I hoped he hadn’t seen me at this point and I moved over further into the ditch as if to hide my presence. I could hear the car slowing down and I reached down to my shoes as if to pretend I stopped to tie them.

The ditch where I tried to “hide.”
(The trailer in the background was not ours, but reminded me a lot of ours.)

“Hey there, little buddy,” the cop called.

“Oh, hi there,” I responded.

“You doing alright?” he asked. “Why aren’t you in school?”

“Oh, yeah. I, uh, wasn’t feeling well today,” I explained.

“Oh yeah, then what are you doing out here?” he persisted.

“I started to come to school, but then I felt sick. So, I’m heading home.” I was sure he understood that or at least, I hoped he would.

“Well, guess what?” he replied. “Good news. There is a nurse at school to take care of you. Come on, get in my car.” I walked up to the passenger door and let myself in. I sheepishly pulled myself into the large front passenger seat. “Don’t forget to buckle,” he said. I didn’t know what my parents would find out, but even after the night before, I was so embarrassed to be going to school late and arriving in a cop car, at that!

Arriving at school.
The front entrance to Loogootee Elementary School.