Some Thoughts on my Return to Nativity School

The Sacred Heart Nativity staff is a community of deeply caring educators who serve and support one another in all facets of the job.  We serve, not only the students of Nativity, but one another.  We support each other by sharing a smile, a laugh, or a word of encouragement during days that can feel extremely long.  We are reassured by the knowledge that we are all in this together.  

Every one of us knows in our heart that we have been brought here as a part of God’s plan.  Coming to Nativity is always a calling.  Sometimes that plan is brief and sometimes much longer.  For a few of us, teaching at Nativity is our spiritual path for a number of years and we feel the nudge to move on.  Then, like many of our students, we come back to visit because it has become the definition of home for us.  We come back, not because we want to but because it is what our spirit demands.  We need to be nourished once again by the community that fed and sustained us.  Unbeknownst to us, Nativity has permeated our entire being.  It has defined who we are as educators and as believers.  

The calling from God is for the work as well as the personal connection to the mission.  Each day as we walk through the door, we encounter the faces at the margins and find ourselves in the exact spot that Jesus has called us.  Whether it be in the classroom or on the playground, it is in these faces that we see the embodiment of what it means to break the cycle of poverty through education.  We are making a difference.  As we share our gifts and stories with our students, we are transformed as much or more than they are.  We gain as much as we give; we are humbled as we stand in the shadow of their strength and resilience.  We become better people because we are among these learners who teach us every day what it means to work toward a goal that feels just beyond our reach.  

There is nothing easy about this job.  It is the hardest, most  important work that any of us will ever do.  We give our whole selves each day and come back the next day to do it again.  We do it because we see the impact that we are having and it is addictive.  The more that is achieved today, the more we see what can be done tomorrow.  We are lifting up each student in our class academically, emotionally, and socially.  When that student goes home to tell the story of his/her day to the family, they too are lifted.  They learn through their children that there is a way up.  There are possibilities for their children they didn’t know existed.  In those conversations, they learn a new word or phrase in English; they learn about a community event that also opens possibilities for their own lives.  They learn about an author of a book their children have read who lived the same life as they are living and who made his way to Santa Clara University through the support of teachers like those of their son or daughter.  They see what is possible.  And as each family is lifted, so is the community.  So the work each teacher does with that student to whom they give a word of praise or acknowledgement echoes back through his/her parents, grandparents, siblings, and out to local neighbors and friends.  This student will feed on success after success until he/she begins to believe and imagine what is possible; that they too can be the first generation of their family to go to college, to be a teacher, an author, an engineer.  And as their siblings then enter through the same doors on Edwards Avenue, they already know what’s possible because they have heard the story and witnessed their sibling’s success.  

The Nativity Staff is a team of workers like no other.  Every year, we say it’s the best team ever assembled.  We believe it because we have seen the results student after student, year after year.  We know the dream is within our grasp.  From our first day on campus, our hearts have quickly learned the feeling of being broken open, individually and as a group.  We laugh and cry with our students and each other.  But in the quiet moments of the evening we ponder the day and wonder what it is to be twelve and to struggle with all you have in you to learn, to achieve, and to trust that every one of these adults will come through on the promise of success; that you will follow in the footsteps of the graduate portraits on the walls of Sacred Heart Our Lady of Grace Nativity Schools.  And each June, these teachers will heave a huge sigh and proudly lead these graduates out of the doors of the church into the world, to set it on fire.  

Place Holder for the Story that Begs to be Told

 This email was sent to my children the day after I met my half-sister who came into my life less than two months ago.  From the very beginning it has been a story that is begging to be not only told but written and published.  So for now, I will leave it here so that I can hold on to the depth of feelings of this moment.  

"It is the day after my meetings with A and I’m not sure I can put it all into words yet.  In talking to Uncle M about it this morning he agreed that it was extremely difficult to explain it to anyone else.  So let me just relay some events.  Everyone keeps telling me that it is a story begging to be written.  And I'm beginning to agree.

We decided to meet for breakfast alone and then with the family for dinner.  A and I met at the First Watch restaurant in Omaha.  I parked the car and saw her driving in as I got out.  So I waited for her to join me.  We immediately fell into each other’s arms and just started crying.  We hugged each other and would step back and look at each other.  Both of us we were filled with the desire to just touch the other one and and confirm her reality.  Lots of hugging and always accompanied by tears.  As we walked in, she said, I feel like I know you but I don’t know you.  Fast forward to last night as I was leaving; I asked her if she knew me now.  She said yes and agreed that she had also known me in that morning.  You are exactly who I thought you would be.

A’s first question to me was to relay again the timeline of the Allen family moves.  This seemed to be a common topic of conversation for the entire Van Putten family and perhaps the most difficult piece for everyone to grasp - that my father was a builder and as a result we moved often.  From there the questions ping-ponged from my family life as a child to my kids, to my work, to today.  It was an extreme exercise in brain flexibility for a 68-year old.  We met for breakfast at 9:30 and finally stood up to leave a few minutes after noon. It was exhausting, and exhilarating, and an amazing gift that we freely gave to each other.  The waitress was extremely patient with us and thrilled to be in our company with Amy openly said, this is my half-sister.  Those words still ring in my ears at validation of our relationship because it was said with such love and joy.

Next came the family meeting - the family reunion that I didn’t even know that I was a part of until 2 months ago.  I drove out to their house and met her husband, Jeff, 3 of her 5 daughters, Erin, Lena, and Sarah, 2 son-in-laws, and 6 grandchildren.  It was a lot.  But the house is big so it wasn’t as chaotic as it sounds.  Everyone had questions and again they ranged from my youth, to motherhood, to professions, to this moment.  It was almost indescribable.  It was funny and light, thoughtful and caring, We laughed at the situation, at our families, and at each other.  But in the end all that resided was love for one another and joy in each other's company.  

There are several topics or ideas that stand out in my mind and that will always be remembered.  First, you can tell a child that Grandma has a new sister and you have a new aunt and they simply take it in stride, say "Cool.  It's nice to meet you," and carry on with their card game or whatever they were doing.  There are no questions or need for clarification.  They don't wonder how you could have a sister and not know it; did you lose her?  It just is.  Second, it is not possible to "know" my mom without also including many stories of my dad.  Her thoughts and actions cannot be understood without first knowing who she was in relation to her husband.  This of course, is partially a product of the time in which she has lived.  In the 1950s a woman simply didn't have the safety net for personal dreams or aspirations.  

Another piece of the story that I will always hold in my heart is the fact that simple acts can and do make monumental differences in other people's lives.  And we cannot anticipate what they will be.  I told Amy the "Baby May" story not long after we met.  I told it with only love and affection and the hope to communicate that she was dearly loved by her 4 siblings even before she was born.  While she enjoyed and appreciated the story what she took from it demonstrates the caring loving person she is.  She had long envisioned the painful decision of a mother carrying and delivering a baby and then releasing her into the world.  She knew this would be a decision that would have long lasting effects on the mother.  But she had never dreamed that the siblings would also have been old enough to feel the pain of this loss.  In her words, "I never dreamed that others would have been hurt too."  

And one final vignette, shortly after M and I started communicating with A he added her to his Family Tree on Ancestry.com.  He thought little of the act and openly states that he added A at the same time that he added Aunt P.  But this simple act had lasting implications.   As A and I talked about it yesterday she said she didn't realize how the feeling of connection had evaded her for her entire life.  This simple website action brought home to her that after all these years she was wanted, loved, and at long last connected to another person.  She talked about a lifetime of feeling untethered.  Even though she was adopted and loved by her parents as an adopted child, she realized that she never got over the act of being given up.  And because she was one of three adopted children in her family, the connection was still missing.  They simply became three children in a home with a mom and dad. So with this one keystroke by her half-brother, her entire view of family was changed.  The simplest things that we do just because we are being honest to who we are has the power to entirely shift another's experience of love, connection, and family. 

Now finally, in closing I will share that after leaving breakfast, A called her best friend to tell her the next chapter of her siblings saga and simply said, "I have the best big sister in the world!""