Perhaps a bit late in arriving, I grant, and by the looks of things, maybe a bit "Knights of the Templar," (I toldja about me and the whole "White Knight" thing, there's your proof....) but, yes, this is the picture of Martha and I from our confirmation at Easter, along with our other RCIA classmates; bring me to to God, and believe I will stay now. Nuff said.

And, I'm sure, there are those out there wondering what subbing in juvenile detention was like; in a word, fine. The kids were (as you might have guessed,) respectful of authority, mine included, and really not much of a problem at all. I didn't even really have issues with the fact that you can't bring ANYTHING, and I mean ANYTHING, into the building without approval; hey, if the cops who come from across the way have to check THEIR weapons at the door, there really are no safety issues, at least that I can see. Was I afraid of them? Maybe a little, but nothing that would interfere with me teaching them. I think I felt sort of a small amount of kinship with them, in myself feeling a little misguided and out of sorts at points in my life. The only real difference, of course, is that I made better choices than a lot of these kids did, and THEY know that. It's a big issue in special education, making choices; even among segments of the special-ed population that may have physical, cognitive, or other impairments, a great effort is made to help them determine for themselves what the right thing to do is, in a variety of circumstances. As happens with a great number of things in my life, there are things that I can't discuss because of security issues that might be compromised, so I'm not allowed to go into much detail about what it's really like on the inside, guess you really *will* just hafta watch that special on prisons on the Discovery Channel to find out the real deal. But your security, and acceptance, generally, are determined, as they are in many venues, by the level at which they indentify with you, and accept you as a person. That sword, of course, cuts both ways, as all the guides about talking to kids will tell you. In any event, the whole experience makes a strong case for further development on my end, and if it seems odd that this might in fact be where my niche is, I ask only.....how standard am I really?! Some might refer to it as a special brand of crazy, and so be it. If I'm half the "white knight" that I claim to be, then being of value in a capacity like this almost borders on second nature. Why, specifically, is that? Couldn't tell ya. I'd probably be more depressed and ill-at-ease with myself if I could. And I've been depressed and ill-at-ease with myself, thank you very much, and I much prefer the feeling of self-worth, no matter what it took to get to it. There may, in fact, be room for a great many options, even if I am, more than anything, the educator that I claim to be. Overall, though, I'd bet I still have nothing in strictness or sternness compared to a 60's Catholic school Nun; I can't even bring in one of those big steel rulers.......

Speaking of Catholicism, I almost forgot; one of the big things Martha and I will experience together is coming up soon, the convalidation of our marraige in the Catholic Church, having now been through our confirmation classes. Odd, too.....I really feel, more than ever, God is on my side, listening to me, and answering me, more since I've been to church. Go figure, yeah, I know, and it's just a feeling. Then again, a vast portion of whats IN this blog is my feelings. Ergo, there's no harm in any of it. And I suppose Divine Protection is no small thing when you're working around kids with criminal records, or those who might bite, scratch or pinch you for no apparent reason.