If you knew me

If you knew me, you would say, “Why in the world would she want to kill herself.” My response to that is, “I don’t–not really.” I simply want to end the unbearable agony.I think my story is best approached by looking at it from the outside first–the way you see it, and then from the inside–the way I live it.

I’ve always been a type “A” person. I went to school every year for 32 years and if you ask me what I want to learn, I say, “Everything.” My curiosity is so profound that I have always been in search of what is over the next hill. I am blessed in that it appears that I have always been able to climb that next hill. I have lived and worked in 32 countries in the world, worked for the UN, the U.S. State Department, the Kenya Parliament, the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet, the Department of Foreign Affairs, the Department of Aboriginal Affairs. I have lived in East Africa, Europe, Australia, Southwest Africa and the Middle East. I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Professional Writing and Literature, a Master’s Degree in international studies and development history, a Ph.D. in Human Services, a large component of which is psychology. I have weathered all kinds of storms in my life, from poverty, during my childhood, disappointment, hunger, racism and now near destitution. I have been divorced twice, bereft of my daughter due to betrayal by her father who promised to move back to the United States with me but never showed up and kept my daughter too.

The loss of my daughter is probably the spark that ignited my first episode with depression. I kept every momento my daughter sent me; every Christmas card, letter and even a refrigerator magnet, which read “I miss you, please come back to me. The years of our separation have been like a wound to the heart by a knife, which is perpetually turned. I have suffered this pain for 15 years. My daughter and I separated when she was 11, she is now 26. I never got over the loss.

Not being one to marinate in my own self pity, I began teaching. I started out with children the age of my daughter and as she grew up, I moved on to teach students who were her age. They became my family. They could never take her place, but I did feel I was doing some good in the world. During the period I taught, I was able to assist many students in reaching heights they had never anticipated. Among my success stories, is one professor, a young gang member who became an elementary school teacher, a young girl studying to be a secretary, who became a labor negotiator, and numberous others who through my “intimidation, coercion and much love,” came to realize their own self worth and went on to help others achieve the same goal. Some even went to third world countries to work.

I have been inducted into many categories in “Who’s Who,” received commendation the State House of Representatives, in New Jersey, the Governor, and many others. So as you can see, from the outside, the average person would say, “What has she got to feel bad about?” Four years ago, I might perhaps have asked myself that question. We make these kinds of judgments when we are looking in from the outside. I am also guilty of this. I once met a man who was making $150,00 a year, had two Ph.D.s and was a member of the diplomatic corps. He confessed to me that he felt that he was a failure. I thought as I looked at him, “How can you see yourself as a failure? You have a fine job, live on New York’s Park Avenue, are handsome, well educated and are never short of money nor entertainment. As a matter of fact, he is the reason I got my doctorate. I thought then that it would be a good idea. Unlike men, when women get old, there ;is very little to make them feel secure about themselves. When the construction men stop whistling and flowers don’t come as often as theyhave been, a woman needs something to help her with her self esteem. Women need something to make them feel whole, because like it or not we depend on our youth and beauty more than we would like to admit, so when it begins to wane, we need something that is going to give us the respect and admiration that our mere physical appearance once did.

For many years I wanted to be someone whose opinion was respected and after having spent many sitting in meetings and providing advice which was nay, nayed and then later used, with the editing of an ‘if,’ ‘and’ or ‘but’ by various bosses and diplomats later in a paper produced as products of their own work, I decided to get my doctorate. This way people could have to recognize my ability to use my own intelligence and if they nay nayed me they would be in sum saying, “This fool is a doctor, or this doctor is a fool,” but in any event it would not make much sense.

Up until 2006 I was able to keep my depression under control. I was working with people who needed help and I enjoyed it. This brought with it several events which would change my life. First my father died on Christmas Eve. We were not very close but the loss still made me feel terribly alone. Five months after that, a drug addict ran into the back of my car and totaled it. I had just completed paying for it. The car only 6,000 miles. I was faced with buying a new one and going into debt all over again at the age of 66. As soon as I bought the car, my hours of my new job were cut, and then reduced again, down to five hours a week. I could not claim unemployment because I had not worked their long enough. So, there I was with a brand new car and no way to pay the bill. Next my sister became ill.

My sister has a lot of family responsibility and I was worried that her blackouts would keep her from carrying them out. So, I moved to the town where she lived. This has proven to be a terrible error because there is not a job here that pays more than about $8.00 an hour. Since it is a resort area, most of the work is in hospitality and service work.

I began my stay working as an elementary school teacher in a charter school. I enjoyed the work because my doctorate in human services with a specialization in work with at risk adolescents, afforded me the opportunity to work with disadvantaged students. However this was not to the liking of the principal and he set about to make my life a living hell. While teaching I would look through the door which was wood paneled with glass and there he would be standing sideways against the wood paneling so as not to be seen. The students would draw my attention to him.

As a psych major at Bachelor’s level (the first attempt at the Bachelor’s degree) and later at Ph.D. level as part of my Human Services curriculum, I had learned that when working with students who are on the continuum between rebellious and dangrous, it is wise to stope back and let them have their way once in a while. I had mistakenly practiced this approach and allowed them to play cards one day having completed a three hour PSSA examination and an hour Science exam. It was the pen ultimate period of the day, the time when we were supposed to study for the SAT. I felt that the students had been pushed far enough. For those of you who know anything about this type of student, you will be aware that there is a point when they decide to do only what they want and nothing can turn them around, so I allowed them to play cards; that’s what they wanted. Not long after they had begun, I received a call from the school’s director, “I didn’t know that playing cards was part of the SAT test,” he said sarcastically. I endeavored to explain that these students had been “tested” out and would not take another test that day. Additionally, there were not enough SAT books for them to work on individually. I bought one from my own money and photocopied enough tests for each student.

The harassment continued in many ways. Each teacher was required to vacuum the classroom. The vacuum cleaner for my room was taken and never returned eight times. Finally I brought my own in from home and had to bring it back and forth with me each day. Spying increased, as did complaints. Finally I was such a nervous wreck that I became afraid to carry out any duty unless it was double checked by others. I began to spiral down into a atmosphere of insecurity. I was determined however to continue teaching the students as many of them were remedial and if they did not get the proper training they would never be able to attend college.

When I first arrived student behavior was abominable, very much reminiscent of that in “Lean on me.” Within two months I had helped the students learn to wait until those leaving the classroom were out, before entering. In the halls there was fighting and cursing, shoving and pushing. Adult monitors screamed in the halls. “This is my school, why are you acting like this? Are you retarded?” Loud speakers blared almost hourly, calling students to the principal’s office or making announcements, many of which were not even relevant to the classes I was teaching; and teachers screamed at the top of their voices in an attempt to get compliance from students. Three seventh grade teachers quit within one year: one teacher put his fist through the wall in sheer frustration and by year’s end each year, at least 50% of the teachers never returned.

As the year drew to a close the principal began giving out contracts to those teachers whom he anticipated would return. He also advised, “I hear some people are displeased with their raises. If they don’t like the raise, remember, the door swings both ways.” It was his way. When I spoke to the director of the charter school about the principal’s behavior, which appeared to be “State what must be done and then follow it up with a threat.” The threat was usually, that he would ensure that the teachers lost their certification. As I did not have a certificate this did not have an impact on me. I intended to get one, but I would wait until the summer when I had time to take the Praxis test. I had taken it and passed five years previous.

This was not to be. As the school year drew to a close I was not offered a new contract. Many different reasons were given for this when the parents found out I was not returning: she is not certified, she quit before the end of her contract; she did not want to return and numerous others. To add insult to injury the school endeavored to prevent me from getting my unemployment compensation, and has used more than six different stories to support their perspective. None of these are true and I have been fighting for the last 5 months for justice in the matter and no one seems inclined to provide any. In addition the school has tried to decrease the amount of money which I paid into the teachers pension and provide me with at least $400.00 less than I contributed. I have taken these two matters to everyone: the Board of Education, the Public Service Employees Retirement people and everyone seems unable to provide me with the help I require.

Being the resilient person I normally have been I decided not to worry about it and look for another job, but the aea where I am living is a backwoods and as mentioned before there is very little work. I have now run out of money having supported myself from my own funds. On the day that I was to go for an interview I suffered a mild heart attach and ended up in the hospital. Since that time, I have applied for over 300 positions. My resume tends to scare potential employers away, and I have been advised to cut out much of it. Right! And how does one explain the loss of 3o years of experience, and what does one replace it with, and how does that impact the type of job one is eligible for?

I have no one who can support me and my present pension will take care of the rent, but what about all the other amenities. It was then I began to realize that I might possibly be better off dead. Unlike many others, I have no fear of death, I just feel that it would be a waste, since I have so much to offer young people who are not properly educated. I have always felt that as long as people feel well, they should work. I am a Christian, and I have yet to see anywhere in the Bibile where it says, “Oh, and by the way, when you reach your middle fifties or sixties, just wrap up everything and kick back.” Moses was eighty years old before he even started his real job, Abraham was 100 when he had his first son, Noah worked on his ark for 100 years. Who said we’re supposed to ‘kick back’ and do nothing. I believe that as long as we are alive and able, we should be useful.

Despite this belief I have the most oppresive thoughts of suicide and how things would be much easier for everyone. Sometimes these are stopped when I receive a letter from a student telling me how s/he has finally reached a goal which was thought to be beyond reach until s/he came in contact with me. This sometimes cheers me and at other times makes me feel so depressed, because I have strong feelings of worthlessness.

I remember in the film Gandhi, Margaret Burke White was talking to one of the members of the Gandhi household. She said, “I feel such a sense of sadness in Gandhi,” to which the response came, “Yes, he feels so despondent, he feels that he had what the world needed most and it didn’t realize it.” It is a terrible thing when your gift is not considered worthy. I just want to work with adolescents who need redirection, love and a sense of worth.