The Welshman's Wisdom

I used to work with a crazy guy from Wales.

My first ever grown up job was teaching English at a small alternative school in Southern Appalachia. What's an alternative school you may ask? Well, they are all a little different, but my school served about 100 students from Kindergarten to 12th grade who were either diagnosed with some form of Autism/Aspberger's Syndrome, or who had demonstrated bad behavior in a traditional high school. I worked with high school students, about 50 all told, and I taught each grade level (9-12) as I was the only English teacher at the school. Our school was made up of a strange amalgamation of students (whom I loved and who cracked me up all the time) and an even stranger mix of teachers. It takes a special person to work in that environment, that's for sure. Our talented woodshop teacher, Henderson, was formerly an actor in New York City; our horticulture teacher, Mr. Blanton, who was pushing 80 years old, was born on Blanton Branch, about a quarter-mile from the school and spent his life farming and preaching. Our math teacher, Kia, was a dreadlocked, militant Christian who didn't go to church, rode her motorcycle too fast, and smoked like a chimney.

Then there was Tom, the resident Welshman - law school drop out, world class kayaker who moved to the States chasing a girl he met in India, who would later become his wife. Tom was our history teacher, our American History teacher, who hated America and Americans and only taught so he could "colonize the natives." Tom was a phenomenal teacher, but he's a busker at heart - he now spends all of his free time performing magic tricks and tying balloon animals on sidewalks all across the South.

After hundreds of conversations at breakfast, during lunch and after school, there's one phrase that's lodged in my brain, and I always, always hear it with a Welsh accent:

"Even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes." 


I've never felt much like a 'blind squirrel' (though I've met a few in my day, if you know what I'm talking about), but I do understand the idea of getting lucky, or being blessed. I sat down to start this post as a tribute to my awesome husband, but I think I'll save that for another day and give that subject the attention it deserves. For now, I'll think back to my first days of 'the real world,' my first job and my wonderful, memorable coworkers and I'll take a moment to be grateful for the good 'nut' that I found!