August 18, 2026- Hana does not like it when her meal gets cold, especially the meat. She began fussing, but stopped when she saw that I was not reacting, and was just sitting and waiting for her to stop. I then reheated her chicken, and she finished it. She leaned over and put her head against my chest, when the meal was over and I had cleaned her up. It was her way of asking if I loved her, in spite of her little tantrum.
I love her the way I love her father, and the way I loved her grandmother- unconditionally. I don’t get sidetracked by her being disagreeable, nor do I reward her for it. She is seeing that there are rules that need to be followed, even when it is not what she might want in the moment. She is approaching toddlerhood, already. She has some agency and dignity, which is respected. Likewise, she is being taught to respect the agency and dignity of her parents-and of her grandfather.
HANA’S NOTE- I hate it when my food gets cold. But, I like to play at the table. Papa makes me behave.
YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-2001
In my years of handling disturbances, crises and other difficulties, I have had no trouble rising to the occasion and seeing things through to a resolution. I was not prepared, though, for a well-organized, slow-rolling absconding by two students, two days before Valentine’s Day. Multiple people were involved in this, and I, focused heavily on the day-to-day grind of running a residential school, was the last to know. Students told me, later, in shame, that there were one or two staff members, at least one parent and several of the residents who helped the girls, The kids didn’t think I’d be held responsible, when they did their part in the caper. I held myself responsible, though, and resigned that same night. The girls were located, the next day, and faced the law.
I fell back on Substitute Teaching, and Penny, having finished her semester in Mesa. did the same. We made the best of it, and truth be known, I was physically and mentally exhausted by my work at the Academy. I was actually glad to be done with it, and I was definitely done with school administration.
In August, Penny got a full-time job at El Mirage Elementary School, west of Phoenix. We moved to an apartment complex in midtown Phoenix, near what was then Metrocenter. Sierra Pines was, at first, reasonably well-run, and we felt fairly safe. I signed on to Substitute in two nearby school districts, while applying for various School Counselor positions.
On the morning of September 11, I went to a grocery store to buy a few items for the week. When I turned on my car radio, afterward, Morning Monkey broke into his playlist to announce that an airplane had just crashed into the World Trade Center, in New York. It hit me that this was a terrorist act. When I got home, Penny noticed that my face was ashen. She went to work and Aram went to his middle school. I stayed at home and was glued to the TV screen, going out only for a sandwich at lunchtime, just to reconnect with the outside world for an hour. My wife and son both came home early.
I would work at substitute teaching, the rest of the year, I went to the business of a Sikh man who was slain, in the aftermath of the terror attacks, and paid my respects to his family. Penny and I ate at Arab-owned restaurants, to show that we did not hold the average person responsible for the acts of extremists. On the long weekend of Veteran’s Day, we were visiting Penny’s parents, in Prescott. On November 12, we woke early and had the TV on. News came of another plane crashing into an apartment complex near the Queens-Midtown Tunnel, also in New York.The complex was home to many New York City police officers and firefighters. The official version was that this was pilot error. I sense differently, in my bones, to this day.
In any event, not much has been the same, since September 11, 2001.