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I like to say that I love roller coasters.  There is some truth to that statement, but it isn’t that simple in all reality.  I love the idea of roller coasters. I love that they exist and I love remembering the times I have ridden roller coasters.  But I don’t like to look at them too closely. Especially the wooden roller coasters that go two stories high. I don’t want to see any peeling paint or splintering wood and I don’t particularly want to examine the construction.  Maybe that’s why Space Mountain is my all-time favorite roller coaster, because I can ride it entirely in the dark.  I can’t anticipate whether the next thing coming is a dip or a turn or an enormous drop, I can just sit back in the saturated darkness and ride.  I can’t see if there is a loose bolt or an inexperienced-looking ride operator.

Last  Monday I woke up and found myself standing in line. It was my turn next, to sit down, strap in, and take off and, true to form, I was both excited and a little bit nauseous, wondering what I had been thinking when I got in line for this upcoming week.  Fraught with anxiety and excitement and the entire spectrum of emotions in between, for several days I was unable to do much more than watch the passing scenery and confront each emotion and situation as it hurtled toward me.  In the end, I know I will walk away with shaky knees and a sense of accomplishment and a smile a mile wide.

I am glad that I wasn’t given any opportunity to stop the ride and step off because I am not sure I would have opted to get back on after a brief time-out. The expectation that I will simply see this all through to the end is a rather comforting one. Somehow, it doesn’t require anything of me other than my presence and that is enough.

The highlights have come in a big way. Katy Hutchison came to speak to the students and staff at Eve and Lola’s school on Thursday, delivering a presentation that left us all breathless after an hour. She talked about synergy (positive and negative) and personal responsibility, group dynamics and tragedy, forgiveness and restorative justice and provided a jumping off point for our community to begin having conversations about the way we interact with each other when things get hard.  She is an incredibly generous, dynamic, authentic person for whom I am incredibly grateful.

Lola is embarking on a courageous adventure this weekend with many of her schoolmates that will be a test of her resilience in many ways.  It helps that Eve will be along for the trip, and I am excited to hear about the weekend when I pick them up on Monday. That said, in the quiet moments, I wonder if she is homesick or sad and I fervently hope that she is too busy to be either. The neighborhood has been shrouded in fog for going on three solid days now and the oppressive grey mist has set the trees to dripping. I can’t help but feel that when I pick the girls up on Monday it will magically lift.

I am headed to Portland on Tuesday for the book launch of “Get Out of My Crotch,” the book for which I wrote a chapter about reproductive rights.  I am thrilled to be an actual published writer and so looking forward to meeting some of the other people who share this passion with me.  I also get an entire night in a hotel to myself in one of my favorite cities on the planet, which is pretty cool. But I’m nervous about meeting the other writers, all of whom are more accomplished than I, and I’m sad about leaving the girls less than 24 hours after their return home.

CB, the injured dog, is feeling a lot better on his cocktail of anti-inflammatories, pain killers and antibiotics and is driving me insane with his pleading for walks every couple of hours.  Unfortunately, the specialist who read his x-rays believes that a spot on his bone is either cancer or a deep bone infection – neither of which are an easy fix.  Sorting out the options and trying to understand the ramifications has been difficult even as I am nudged by his wet nose and reminded that, for now, he is here and he wants attention.

Somehow I knew, when I stood facing this week that it would be a wild ride. Even Monday I saw this roller coaster looming as I stood in line to get on it feeling slightly ill and wondering why I chose all of this.  Despite that, I also knew somewhere in the recesses of my brain that it would be worth it to get on and strap in. I will do my best to experience and cherish every moment, but I would be lying if I didn’t say I was looking forward to getting home next Wednesday, stepping off for a bit, and taking a nice quiet seat on a bench in this vast amusement park.

I am so grateful for my local public library! I have discovered so many amazing books simply by walking in empty-handed and perusing the shelves set up to highlight particular books.  I don’t know the formula the librarians use to decide which books to set out at what time (except for the obvious holiday-related ones), but I’m incredibly glad for the ones I’ve found throughout the years.

The remarkable book I discovered by ‘chance’ this summer was Walking After Midnight by Katy Hutchison.  It is the story of a journey that began with her husband’s murder one New Year’s Eve and her path to forgiveness.  It is so much more than that, but I won’t reveal more here because I would like to encourage you to read it yourself.  I will tell you that she and her husband’s killer have since forged a relationship that enriches the lives of people everywhere.  Their work focuses on the concept of restorative justice, defined on Wikipedia as

an approach to justice that focuses on the needs of the victims and the offenders, as well as the involved community, instead of satisfying abstract legal principles or punishing the offender. Victims take an active role in the process, while offenders are encouraged to take responsibility for their actions, “to repair the harm they’ve done—by apologizing, returning stolen money, or community service”.[2]Restorative justice involves both victim and offender and focuses on their personal needs. In addition, it provides help for the offender in order to avoid future offences. It is based on a theory of justice that considers crime and wrongdoing to be an offence against an individual or community, rather than the state.[3] Restorative justice that fosters dialogue between victim and offender shows the highest rates of victim satisfaction and offender accountability.[4]

Together, the two of them travel around the world telling their story and revealing how their lives were impacted by this notion of repair and restoration as opposed to strictly punishment.

I was struck by one part of the book in particular where Katy talks about several schools who have instituted restorative justice programs as a way to address bullying.  Bullying has been highlighted as a serious societal problem in the last few years and, as a result, many schools have declared so-called “Zero Tolerance” programs, meaning that punishment for bullying is swift and severe.  I was intrigued by the notion that other schools have chosen to bring the victim and the perpetrator together in a facilitated discussion to resolve issues and use these incidents as teaching moments.  Having worked at a school for several years, I have seen kids who were labeled as bullies or troublemakers and expelled or asked to leave the school.  On more than one occasion, our school received one of those children.  I often wondered what a simple change of venue was supposed to accomplish for these kids and how difficult it must be to remove that label once applied.

After finishing the book, I did a little more sleuthing and discovered this website.  Dr. Tom Cavanagh writes about a “culture of care” in schools, offers training for educators and parents in restorative justice, and critically reviews books on bullying.

We have, blessedly, not been touched by bullying at this point in our girls’ lives, but I love the idea of restorative justice when it comes to nasty disagreements just as much as “bullying.”  I have seen firsthand how much Lola squirms when asked to sit across from Eve and listen to how her bad behavior made her sister feel.  Eve has asked to simply be punished rather than facing her sister, taking responsibility for her behavior, and making things right.  It is incredibly uncomfortable to face the person you have harmed and spend a little time in their shoes, but such a powerful deterrent to further incidents.  For the victim, being heard and acknowledged is often more important than knowing that the person who hurt you is being grounded or suspended or expelled.  For the perpetrator, the emotional distance that is provided by a punishment, no matter how severe, does nothing to help them understand their actions and the natural consequences that stem from them.  And for both parties, the process of restorative justice is an opportunity to grow empathy, compassion, and a sense of community.

Restorative justice in our schools would require more time, energy and training on the part of the school personnel.  Ultimately, though, I feel certain that it would offer more opportunities for growth, dialogue and community within the schools.  Students on both ends feel cared for – their emotional needs met – by restorative justice and isn’t that what we want for our kids? To feel part of something that cares about them? To be in a place where they matter?  Maybe if we start this trend in our schools, this generation will grow up to embrace it in their adult lives, seeking to repair and restore relationships and relying on principles of humanity and forgiveness rather than punishment and revenge.