The School - Part 2
Your soul mate is supposed to be The One, they are the ultimate relationship, the partnership of all loves, the biggest blessing, the ultimate union. And also the hardest, most challenging, soul tormenting and testing relationship of one’ s life. I have come to the conclusion that this school is my soul mate, or an invocation of such. It has been the biggest blessing that I could ever have asked for, and also the hardest challenge. But I didn’t ask for it. It is such a big thing that I could not even conceive such a thought. It is too big for me to have thought of or wished for. Yet, here it is, a whole pre-school, just for you. The Universe is weird like that. Gift wrapped and delivered to your door! Postnet style.
The day I had an anxiety attack was a shock awakening for me. I had just faced The Parents of my new school (sounds pretty weird to say “my school”!), to introduce myself to them, alongside the Angel Owner of the old school, Die Plaaskooltjie, Karen. We had a wonderful meeting, Karen introduced me to the parents, gave a short introduction and explained that the school was moving into new hands. I made a speech (very official and all grown up of me), and then spoke to each and every one of the people in attendance, smiled, laughed and was welcomed into this wonderful community. Not once did I feel self-conscious, or misplaced, everything flowed smoothly. Karen and I had been planning this meeting for weeks beforehand. Many phone calls, whatsapps, emails and late night discussions over coffee, dinner or the occasional wine, random street talks, shop waves, and trolley jams preluded this meeting. The school and the Meeting had taken residence in my mind and camped out there, with its tent, camp fire, cooler box and fold up chairs (please note: the thought of camping horrifies me, and I would rather write a 10 000 page essay on, well anything, than be tortured to camping). I would wake up in the middle of the night, planning my strategy, talking to myself, what I was going to wear, what to say, how the pamphlets would look and role playing how the meeting would go. My midnight ramblings started the night I got the 19:02pm phone call on 31st May 2016, you know, The Phone Call…
Let me explain further back than the parent’s meeting, in order to fully understand the midnight madness.
“Die Plaasskootljie is going to close, or I would like to give it to you.” These are the words that have changed my life. Karen and her husband, Johann, wanted to renovate the old school into their new home. They were moving into new ventures of their life, and so the one condition of me taking it over, was that the school had to be moved to a new location. “Yes sure!” I say, penniless, single mom working as a secretary part-time and studying (round of applause please, from the peanut gallery). How in the world it would be pulled off, that was a problem for another day! To quote Richard Branson “If someone offers you an amazing opportunity but you are not sure you can do it, say yes - and learn how to do it later!” I was super nervous, excited and curious to view the new premises of the school. I had said yes, agreed to take it over, on the condition of viewing the house. It took a bit of manoeuvring, a few patient weeks and a lot of nervous giggles between us, to gain access to the new property. Finally, we were able to just go and have an outside peek at the premises, but not be able to view inside. Of course, yes! Let’s go! My whole life, Alexandria’s life, our home, everything is riding upon this house. There is no other option for the school to move to(no pressure there).
When the forest opened its canopy to reveal the dilapidated, peeling, unkempt, half falling down log cabin nestled in the trees, with forest surrounding it on all sides, so overgrown that the vines were growing on the roof, the branches were knocking greetings on the windows and the sun lazily crept through the winter mist, I stopped dead. I was speechless. I couldn’t believe it! Not possible. It was perfect. I had dreamed of this house, not in waking, but in the REM hours of deepest sleep, when your subconscious is free to play. I had dreamed of my log cabin in the forest. This log cabin, in the Milkwood Forest. This Fairy Home of dreamland. Ok, granted I dreamt of a stone cottage in a pine forest, but let’s not get technical here, ok? They both have fireplaces, and they’re both in the forest.
Looking upon the house, with stars in my eyes, the echo of childish laughter rippling through the trees, and the dreams of a jungle gym in the green clearing. This was the new home of my little school, the home that will hold my daughter as she grows, the place to heal my heart, where I will plant a tree, and educate little minds. This was perfect. I felt like I had found my home. For the first time in many, many, many years, I had found a place, I had found a nest, I had found our home. Since Alexandria was born, we had moved many times, shuttled in and out of refuges, we had left her birth-home - our little flat in the sky and become refugees, we fled to a stranger’s home (she knew my mom, ok!), then a house by the lake, then a lounge, another lounge floor, a caravan on my dad’s farm, a family friend’s spare room, a hotel room for a few months with no kitchen, a flat, a flat with a view, another flat, back to the flat with a view, then another flat with not such a nice view. I was tired of shuttling, but I knew that eventually the shuttle would lead to a shell, a home. I trusted that everything would work out, eventually. I trusted. And trust lead me to my log cabin in the forest.
I had decided, it was already mine, the school was moving here and I hadn’t even met the landlord.
Alexandria and I moved in on the 2nd July. One week after seeing it for the first time (I had to gently aggrevate my landlord of the current flat we had just moved into, and break contract, it really was not intentional, but a necessary move). The school was due to open on the 1st September. There’s plenty of time! We can settle in, fluff out our tail feathers and start getting things ready in August (cue the peanut gallery please)… When my dad and giftmom saw the property, they smiled politely and said oh! With a slightly shocked look on their faces. My mom had a more verbal reaction of disapproval for my choice. It went like this: “too fast, you’ll never make this work! You’ve got no money. You should have planned better. You haven’t thought this through. This property will never be a school, have you SEEN how much work it needs!!! Talia, sweety pops, sit down, we need to talk. This is crazy. You can’t do this. Are you crazy!!!??? Just put this thought in your mind, now visualise another property, a nice cosy little place, in town… with a wall (please note the property has no fence, and recedes straight into forest) and a nice piece of grass where the kids can play” And it carried on. My parents were incredibly worried about me, and were probably swinging between feeling my forehead for a fever, sitting me down for a family intervention and kidnapping me, tying me into a straight jacket and trying to talk some sense into my brick of a head. The self-doubt crept in and started a little camp fire. I am passionate, I love with all my heart, I feel with my whole being and I am stubborn. A bull is like a butterfly compared to Miss-Great-Wall-Of-China over here, yet, the doubt was like a constant drip of water on a prisoner’s forehead. I began to doubt myself. I looked at the monster that I had chosen to tame, and what I saw, it scared me. My flutter-by-night dreams had evaporated like morning mist, and I was left with the reality of putting actions where my dreams were. I really started doubting my ability, and I wobbled. Big time.
The plate that was my life, was brittle, with too many cracks appearing. I was like a thin layer of peanut butter spread over too many pieces of bread, with no butter. A single mom, with a very energetic toddler, my studies, a full-time, mid-season job (part-time out of season), maintenance court, lawyers, and not to mention the school! Renovations, planning, structures, project managing, fundraising and making sure this school would not crash, and then I started losing kids, 4 kids were pulled from the school before it even moved over. Breaking point - I saw you, and you scared me. I was depressed, stressed (more than I have ever been in my life), sleepless, grumpy, over-tired and overworked. My little sunshine child kept me going, and the constant reminder, “this is all for you, my heart”. When my family, at different times, suggested that I give the school up, maybe its not right for you now. Maybe your lesson in all of this is to find your boundary, stand up for yourself and say no. Missy, we think you should give up the school. Let it close at the end of the year, and find a new school for Alexandria. When you have finished your studies, and you have some capital (as if that’s ever going to happen, LOTTO you let me down, buddy), then maybe think of starting something small. Give it time, you can’t carry on like this, you are too stressed. You are not coping. (I could feel the straightjacket giggling around the corner).
The drip of self doubt, dripped. I couldn’t believe that I could fail so terribly, how could such a great gift, such a blessing, how could it fail? Why would something like this be given to me, just to have it fail. How could the world be so cruel?
I cried.
And cried.
I was a failure.
I had failed my daughter.
I had failed the children.
I cried. I felt so hopeless, so completely and utterly pathetic, the most epic failure of a person. I couldn’t take it anymore. I just sobbed and sobbed. Repeating over and over, I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. I felt like there was no more of me to give, not even a broken piece. There was too much broken and no glue. Failure. I can’t take it anymore.
In my 11years in the film industry, I had dealt with stress. Multi-million rand projects, red-carpet actors and crew, tens of thousands of rands in cash flowed through my hands everyday. I would confidently walk in Mid-city Joburg, go into the Nigerian’s cash and carry, or a china mart, or the sangoma market (where no white person has ventured before) drop R50 000 cash and shop. Then head off to the next one, and the next one. I had no fear, the stress was like honey to my soul. I thrived. I’ve worked on Avengers: Age of Ultron, and danced through the set like it was my bedroom, on Homeland, pregnant and hormonal, laughing, care-free, in love with life, no fear, no worries, just life, super hard work and spending money (it was my job, as a buyer). Stress? Bring it baby! It was like the nearest casino to a gambling billionaire, the adrenalin all worth it, and so rewarding. But, put the welfare, wellbeing, education and trust of 15 children into my hands and I become a blithering, nervous wreck of an idiot.
How could such a gift, be given to me, only to have it fail? I had failed.
Feeling very numb, like a zombie, (not the World War Z super zombies that run at the speed of knot, but the 1940’s ones that go, “errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…..” with their arms out in front of them) I made the phone call to Karen. “I can’t do this, the property will never be a school. I want to give it up. I don’t want the school anymore. I can’t do it, I’m so sorry”
Well.
Did I get the hiding of my life from across that telephone line. She basically told me to pull my knee-highs up, put my big girl panties on and get my shit together! She was in exactly the same position that I was 5 years ago, AND she had been pregnant when she was trying to open and renovate the school. They had chosen an old, falling to pieces, farm school building, for the school (this little school has gone through some major changes). “We didn’t even have a roof!” She tells me off, in her stern mommy-voice (I am yet to master that voice). “And we did it! I made it work! So no! You will not give up, missy! Pull yourself together and get that property right!”
In that moment I hated her. She had no idea what I was going through. I put down the phone, and cried, I sobbed like my 2 year old when you take her bubbles away. I was so completely broken and she didn’t even understand. Broken, sore, completely alone and hopeless, I called my mom. She was far away and all I wanted was for her to hug me, and take away my hurt, my failure, to wrap my scratches with a plaster, and kiss it better, to pat my back and say See? All better. Go play!
How could I do this? There was open sewerage right where my path was supposed to be, at the entrance to my so-called school. It had been open for weeks, oozing into the ground. Entering the property was a 2x4 adventure, up a dodgy path, through a bush, round the side, under the hill, over the moon and back down the other side of the mountain (doing this with a dog, groceries and a toddler who refused to acknowledge the existence of her feet). The fence was not up, the forest was right there! Not enough space for the kids, the inside was too small, they needed outside learning areas. There was no grass, holes in all the wrong places. So much to do and just one little mommy-girl person, trying to do this on my own. Breaking point, I saw you, and you scared me.
After a brainstorming session where The Parents (oh gosh, did this day cause me endless nights of sleeplessness) came to view the property (yes the day my sewerage decided to crash). Ideas flew around, there were some supportive smiles, and a few crazy sideways glances, but we brainstormed away. Ina, the school’s wonder-teacher, quietly, just said, but lets build a deck. *DING DONG!!* The light bulb has arrived. We shall build. With what money? (Please cue the peanut gallery and the hysterical laughter)
The day things started changing, was when Karen telephonically smacked sense into me, or just convinced me that I was crazy enough to actually make this happen. HAHAHAHA (hysterical laughter, with the whites of my eyes showing, and some crazy spittle flying from the mouth). My Mom also had some Mommy wisdom to share, as we had our 1002nd skype call, with me either crying, laughing or looking around crazily at my next person to eat (I’m really kidding here… I don’t eat people at work, only at home), she said I was not alone, look around you, look at what you have achieved so far (all I saw was failure), you have a community behind you, use them! One day, my amazing Fairy Godmother and employer, looked at me, (not too long after I had a melt down in the office, where I covered my head with a cape and cried like a baby for an hour), she came into the office, looked me in the eyes, and offered the school a small loan, you know, just to help with some building things. Relief doesn’t come with a sound track, I wish it did, because my sound track would have been Queen - “We are the champions”, you know, with Queen standing there in the corner, in all his glory, golden catsuit, jamming out, as I sit there with my mouth open catching flies. Relief doesn’t have a soundtrack, but it does have a calming effect on the heart, and that day I popped one less Rescue Tablet.
Now please note: The times as events happened, are not in sequence, there is too much to say, so it’s a bit more concise… But, as things stand, with the school planning to build, we are sitting at T-minus 3 weeks to open doors. Please note there is still no fence. And I have no money, only a small loan, the 4 digit type of loan.
Classroom painted with a bubblegum pink door (Thanks to my fairy friend Jo for her labour, and to Quinton for the left over paints.)
Deck built (check, thanks Lesley-Ann and Johann Lombaard)
Picket fencing installed to keep the monsters out of my kitchen. (Thanks Giftmom, Pat, for the awesome idea, and Dad for putting it in)
Roof plan done (Thanks Dad)
Roof build (Roofing sheets bought, then I ran out of money). ARE YOU SERIOUS!!!! I still need roofing timber and all the screws and bolts and nuts and that building stuff, stuff. In my hands sits a quote for R5435, 29, for roofing timber. Now thats a whole lot of stash that I do not have under my bed. My head hits the office desk in supplication and acknowledgement of my failure, again. I can’t believe I have actually come so far, and run out of money. Can I sell my car?….
RING!!!! Its Chris Smuts, a dad from the school.
“Hi Talia”
“Hi Chris”
“I want to give you R5000 for the school”
“Excuse me?” (sound familiar? See part 1)
“Yes, would that help?”
“Excuse me?” (Remember the brick wall)
“I want to give you R5000 for the school, because I said I would help, but I can’t give of my time.” (at this point I’m sure he is busy googling alternative schools for his daughter)
“Uh… “(I really am naturally intelligent, but the concrete wall of my brain often fails me in times of generosity moments)
My roofing beams were delivered 4 days later. And my Daddy (the one and only) built the school a roof.
We should break down the wall between the 2 classrooms, suggests Karen, make a big space, better to have one big classroom than 2 small rooms. Johann, will pay for it! And the wall was knocked down.
The fence was still not erected, but the materials had been delivered. It was part of my original agreement with the landlord, as was the fence erection, but the second part fell through. T-minus 2 weeks and still no fence. Sure! Says Karen, I’ll sponsor the fence. We had to postpone the opening by a week, the fence was not finished and we still had an open sewer where the “walkway” was. It took three times as many days to get the fence up and T-minus 3 days, the fence (and sewerage) was still not complete. Everyone was working super hard to get it done. And the weather laughed and laughed and laughed, and rained. Go away rain!!!
“You need grass” my mom says to me. Ok, mom! Whatever you say! (Come on Lotto, I really need you now) Eden Lawns draws up the quote, *gulp*. Then, “ag, just give it to them, its for a school.” My grass was donated by Eden Lawns.
You need to paint the lockers, you need screws, we need nails, we need fencing staples, we need wire, the hoover broke, the labourers and my house fairy need to get paid (not in fairy dust), the thorn tree needs to go, the grass needs to be cut, the roof is leaking (no mark on my dads craftsmanship, I ran out of pap for the pap ’n lap - roof sealer), and… and … and…
Mommy to the rescue! I’ll lend you some money, my girl. Thanks mom, another 4 digit-er. I made it, just, to the last R30.
I need a million bucks (cue LOTTO, or a check in my post box)…
…
…
…
Ok, my powers of manifestation aren’t that refined yet, but I’m getting there.
And slowly, the doors to Forest Friends Pre-school opened quietly on Monday the 12th September 2016 (nothing is ever quiet at a pre-school, and we had nothing short of organised pandemonium). It was like a bomb of giggles and nappies, 7:29am… Tick Tock! and… CHAOS! (You know… the kiddy chaos that follows little people under 6years of age)
I just love it!
I am so incredibly grateful for my life. I often get so overwhelmed by the goodness around me, that the tears begin to roll (its pretty lame, yes that word shows my age, but hey!). The kind hearted people that continuously give of the their time, energy and resources, are so important to me and the school, because without everyone’s help, none of this would have been possible. Close friends, my teachers, parents of the school, members of the community, strangers, businesses, family… The list of people to thank grows every day, and I have had to write it all down to remember. Not that everyone isn’t hugely important, and I would purposefully forget, but because the list is so long, that it overwhelms me to think about everyone (and of course mom brain - I have been known to forget my car keys in the ignition of the car whilst I went off shopping, luckily my window was open…). My gratitude overflows to the amazing teachers that give of their time to care for our kids, they are truly amazing women, and I am ever thankful to them. They clean the poopy potties, and teach them how to poop there in the first place. They have the patience of saints, and I have watched as a screaming hysterical child is dropped off, and all he wants is mom, Ina has calmly held him and talked him down, whilst he tried to break her nose. She talked calmly, softly and held him, she gives so seflessly and love each child like they are her own. Linah is the “child whisperer”, she has the knack for getting these little ones into a line, ready, cleaned, fed, changed and marching off for the serious business of playing on the jungle gym. I can’t recount the thousands of ways these women care for our kids, there are so many huge things, and all the little moments in between. A kind word, a little whisper, a secret smile. They are the true epitome of a teacher.
With the bottom of my heart, I love the school and all the little ones under our care. They are all so special to me, and each one makes me as proud as a mom. When people ask “So you’re a mom, how many kids do you have?” I reply, “11”. It takes a moment for them. I am just starting out on this journey as a carer of little minds and it is the most rewarding experience of my life. When a little toddler, cutely puts his tiny feet into my boots, and proudly walks around the jungle gym, when a little one learns to say “please” and “thank you”, as our class princess struts around wearing his fairy wings, as they can write their names next to a picture, and count to 20 in english and afrikaans (I take no credit here, this is the work of the 2 Superwomen as mentioned above), and a little hand slips into mine, trustingly looking up at me, with all the innocence that only a child can bear, my heart breaks with love, pride and all the mushy mommy/teacher feelings that goes with. These are all my kids. And I love them.
A special thank you to:
Karen and Johan Lombaard
Lesley-Ann Hoets
Chris & Yvette Smuts
Jenny Des-fountain
X’sto and Petricia Pieterse
Quinton
Ina Terblanche
Linah Appels
Eden Lawns
Remax
Montecellos
Lemon and Lime toy shop
Accents gift shop
Aroma
Sedgefield hardware
The Lions Club
