Remembrances

Some of my dearest friends and I will be getting together this Saturday to celebrate 40 years of being away from home. Here is what she has written. For those of you reading this in Sudan, or other parts of the globe, Cate, along with my three Wise Men, assisted me in obtaining my vision to do more for my church. Hence, God put me in Sudan, for which I am eternally grateful.

Mountain View Life Coaching Newsletter
40 Years Ago...

JULY 29, 2009

Hard to believe, but it's true. Forty years ago I (barely) graduated from Ossining High School. The "barely" part is another story... This weekend I will spend a few short hours with a handful of my amazing graduating class of over 300 "kids". Not long ago, I realized that my experience "growing up" with my classmates (and the classes of '66, '67, '68 and '70) is one of the greatest gifts of my lives. I feel as though we raised ourselves and each other. I think we did a pretty good job. No one else was paying attention to my struggles and angst, at least not that I noticed. I can't speak for my classmates or anyone else of this "era". Perhaps this is not unique to the Class of '69, but we truly "went though a lot" together, the best of times and the worst of times. Coming from five small racially, ethnically and economically diverse elementary schools into one over-crowded junior high school, 7th and 8th grade, which adjoined the high school, we were on double session for two years while a new "middle" school was built. We went to school from 7 to Noon one year, Noon to 5 the other. It was weird. We didn't really have any activities except to find our classrooms on time (which could be under the stage or next door at the church) and the rush to get there early to claim one of the limited number of desks and chairs. Never mind the books.... We learned to sit wherever and share. Made us close. We were the beginning of the peak of the baby boomers and our town and school did not plan ahead. We lost our beloved President Kennedy when we were only 12 years old. Our hearts were broken, but our young spirits were not dampened. We still believed we could save the world. We entered high school in the same complex of buildings, as the "middle schoolers" left us and headed to their new school. We had "toughed it out" and got to spread out and relax a bit in our roomier old school and annex. We finally had dances, played sports together (well, the boys, this was pre-Title 9 after all, the girls watched or were cheerleaders). We went to the town library at night to study (or at least that's what we told our parents). We skipped school and took the train down the Hudson River to NY City and learned how to get to the Greenwich Village on the subway and back, and off the train before dismissal. We lost Dr. King and Senator Kennedy. We were in shock and pain as the racial tension in our school escalated to the breaking point. Police lined our corridors for weeks as we made our way to class. We worked together in our senior year in our shared desire to heal. We broke the dress code. Yes, the girls wore skirts that had to touch the floor when we got on our knees in the dean's office, and the boys had to wear jacket and tie on Fridays. Now we all wore jeans, or at least we could. We experienced the "sexual revolution" in our own young way, having heard reports of the "Summer of Love" in 1967 Haight-Ashbury. Some of us experimented with drugs. We watched the war in Vietnam on the evening news, watched it escalate and worried about the draft. We partied when our parents were away. Our parents remained oblivious, or so we thought, until some of us "got caught". That summer, many of us planned for college, entered the work force or Armed Service, and some of us bought our tickets and looked forward to The Woodstock Festival in August (more next time), as we marveled at men walking on the moon. Back to today -- My boxes for our move are mostly packed and I am fleeing my home and my adoring, understanding husband, to see my homegirls and homeboys for a few short hours of laughs and shared memories. We share experiences that have bonded us in ways that I barely understand, if not because of the "times", than at least because we were and are who we are. Unlike previous reunions (I made the 25th and 35th), I don't care if I have a manicure or something new to wear. I won't and I don't. I don't care that I didn't lose a few pounds just for the occasion. I am who I am. Happy to be able to attend and hug my classmates! Including my years in junior and senior high school, I have spent many years trying to morph into something I'm not. I finally like myself for who I am. Funny thing is, this group of old friends, brothers and sisters of my soul, always appreciated me for me. It's taken all this time for me to "get it" -- that I'm okay and totally lovable, just as I am.

I believe we are all born with an innate sense of worth and intact self-esteem. I lost mine for a very long time... and found it again through the transformational work of "integrative" life coaching.

If you would benefit from support, a guide to help you find the path back to your birthright of worthiness and self-acceptance, call me. From my training, personal experience and the experience of my clients, I know that from this place of wholeness, your gifts will unfold with ease. The world is waiting for your gifts. Why wait another moment?

Call me for a complimentary conversation.

Namaste,

Cate LaBarre

Mountain View Life Coaching
Certified Integrative Coach Professional
Trained by The Ford Institute of Integrative Coaching at JFK University
Workshop Facilitator and Leader
(607)264-9500
After August 6th -- (518)882-9880