Staring at a Wall

I was never much of a trouble maker. I did an activity at work today where I had students create a life map. A piece of art with words and images that explained their journeys thus far. I made one too. I presented mine. I realized life has been nice, privileged really. I realized that my map was quite different from the maps of my students and in a neatly wrapped 40 minute period of time, I learned a great deal about humanity.
I started remembering though...I came to a place that held the memory of the fifth grade. I received detention for talking during the pledge to the flag. How dare I interrupt our salutation to America, our gratuity to John Adams and the lot, our momentary pause for solemn reflection. It was simply un-American. Detention followed. At St. Stephen's, they did not have you sit mindlessly in a room doing nothing. I was told to sit for two hours staring at a concrete wall while talking...without stopping. It was very an eye for an eye. I remember the pale yellow paint of the somewhat bomb shelter-like wall texture. I remember a hanging cardboard decorative squirrel (strange but absolutely true). I talked, and when I paused, I was reminded to begin again. It was my first time in trouble, and it was my last time at detention. You see, silence at Catholic school was often the utmost sign of respect. I have come to think of respect as much more than silence, and I guess as I get older, I keep getting myself in trouble again and again for opening my mouth maybe too much.
This election has me talking, and I apologize to my family that has endured endless commentary on the state of the country and how crucial this decision is. I am sorry that I get heated---my husband noting that I have taken to commenting on the 6am Morning Joe show with a strange amount of indignation for such an early hour. I just can't be silent right now. It feels so big. I just feel that silence now would be disrespectful. Our country is too great, our potential just so exciting, but our direction seems so vulnerable. I promise to watch my words at times and listen a little more or a lot more, but I just can't press pause. Not now.