Christmas on Crutches

Yep. One last outing for a few last-minute things, trip over a curb and spend 3 hours in Urgent care yesterday. The final verdict after peering at the x-rays: a small fracture in my left foot. That means crutches for the next 4-6 weeks. It's not painful, but it's really, really inconvenient. I hated crutches 20 years ago, and I hate them now!

The Stuff of the Past

Not long ago I was doing some cleaning. The type of cleaning that means digging through old boxes in hopes of condensing into smaller boxes. I know, I should just throw them out without opening them, but I just can't seem to do that. Anyway, this is one of the little things of the past I found.



At the time I tucked it into look-at-it-later pile, and today was the day I finally did. I flipped through the pages reading the names of people I'd highlighted. Most of them are now my Facebook friends, so I know what they're doing from time to time. Other names I can't place, and I can't recall know why I marked them. So I went digging further into the past hoping to jog my memory. I dug out my college journals. Wow, that was weird. It's amazing how something so innocuous as a directory can send you to a journal, and then to another place altogether.

Grateful for Jen

This is Jen. We met 30 years ago next month. I'm writing this now, because I'll probably forget to mention it next month...

Anyway, Jen knows me pretty well. We met at a birthday party, shared violin and band concerts, camping trips and sleepovers, high school and to many other things to be listed. She's seen me at my best and at my worst, and loves me anyway. We can spend hours doing nothing special and have the best time. Our friendship is comfortable and something to be treasured. I'm grateful for the presence she brings to my life: The balance, the sounding board, and the "get over it already" moments.

Voting Day

I remember being seventeen and looking forward to my first voting experience; making that trip to the polling place and waiting my turn to stand at the booth with my ballot. Looking back on a couple (almost) decades of voting and I'm trying to remember if that ever actually happened. For those of you who are confused by that statement, yes, I vote. However, due to the timing of my 18th birthday, going off to college, and leaving my official residence at my parents' home, I spent the next few years voting absentee. Then, about the time I was back in Oregon for good, the voters chose to implement "vote by mail."

Voting by mail does have some advantages. The powers that be feel they get a greater return on ballots. You get to vote when it's convenient and in the privacy of your own home. There is no long line of waiting for a voting booth to become available. The down side is that I've had my ballot for two weeks, voted more than a week ago, and I've had to listen to the increasingly malicious candidate advertisements anyway. I really hate that. I got really tired of listening not to what candidates intend to do, but how much they needed to denigrate the opposition.

Being eligible to vote is a rite of passage. But I wonder if 18 year olds today feel it's significance since Oregon has made is so easy to vote. Do they understand the impact their choices and choices have?

Goodbyes

This last weekend was one of goodbyes. On Saturday our family joined the rest of the old neighborhood to say goodbye to Kathy, a neighbor of 30+ years who passed away from cancer a couple weeks ago. She'd fought for several years, and held on to meet her first grandchild before letting go. So family, friends and neighbors celebrated one last backyard party in Kathy's honor. It was good to see people who have moved on to other places, and to remember other celebrations we'd all been a part of.

The second goodbye was different. The story goes back many years. One Christmas we gave my grandmother a birdhouse. She hung it outside her kitchen window and for years would watch the house swallows arrive, raise their babies and then they would disappear. When my grandmother passed away, my parents took the birdhouse to their home and for years we've repeated the cycle. This year, we finally got to see the babies leave the nest. It was an event my grandmother never witnessed since once the birds can fly, the whole family just disappears. It was kind of cool to see this year's babies take their first flight.

Blog Surfing (and taking a detour)

I can spend hours blog surfing. Some days I start with the tried and true; those belonging to friends and acquaintances. Others I start with my own and hit the "Next Blog" button. It's interesting to see what comes up. I see lots of families. Sometimes I get to practice my foreign language reading skills.

I guess what really strikes me is that some people write so elegantly, others insightfully. And I can help but find some of my offerings rather staid. Or bland. Mediocre? I'm sure there are many other synonyms I could add to the list, but that would be redundant. Then I start to think about why I blog. On the days I don't have anything witty to add, I wonder why I bother. Sounds so melodramatic and egocentric, doesn't it?

But in January I tend to be melodramatic and egocentric. It's the way of the universe. I'll be back to normal (or as normal as I get) sometime next month...or maybe the following month.

And then there are times when I have the intention of focusing on one moment or thought, and the stream that comes shooting out the ends of my fingertips takes a completely different turn.

For instance, that last sentences reminds me that many schools don't teach kids to type anymore. What, do they think that super fast texting skills make up for it? Wrong! And don't even get me started on the subject of handwriting. I know mine is not very pretty, but at least it's legible. We spent hours in 2nd grade making sure of that. And math skills. Rote memory is not all bad. All high school students should know the multiplication chart! And why do I have to teach fractions to high school students? I had to learn those suckers in 3rd grade.

See...off track and not terribly witty. Oh well. It's late and I'm going to bed so I can teach fractions again tomorrow, and decipher handwriting, and hope that kids will relearn how to type. And maybe when I get home I'll find a blog gem.

Early Childhood Education: A Few Thoughts

Education is always on a teacher's mind. It's part of the price we pay for doing what we do. We question ourselves, administration, and the all-powerful bureaucrats. But as much as I question, I can't imagine the questions that parents ask.

Many of my friends are parents of young children, or are parents to be. They've discovered as they navigate the early years that education starts early. Personally, I can't fathom a system where you apply for pre-school before you even give birth! Yet it exists. I remember attending pre-school, vaguely. Those few memories are more likely anchored to one of my teachers, a friend of the family, than the actual place or activities. I can't recall any of the other children from school during those two years. There are few standout moments during those ages of 3 and 4, but for the most part I remember more about the educational process at home. When I was a child the newspaper was delivered in the afternoon. I would sit in Dad's lap while he read the articles of the day. I was more interested in the photos and advertisements, but he had the patience to answer my questions. I remember Mom reading me stories and helping me write simple words. We played card games and board games where we learned to count and identify colors and shapes. We had those little alphabet magnets on the fridge. But most of all I remember that questions were encouraged, and family time was precious.

So, my friends I wish you luck with your nagivation. And if you'd like some interesting reading, check out "As the World Learns" in the Feb/Mar issue of Edutopia.

The End of January & Looking Back

It's hard to believe that tomorrow is the last day of January. It seems as if we just celebreated New Year's, and now 2008 is 1/12 over! It's been an incredibly busy month. This week is the beginning of a new semester, and that always entails a renewal process. Renewal of expectations to returning students and an extention of expectations for the new kids I see. The beginning of term hustle and bustle of scheduling and rescheduling is ongoing. Tomorrow is the deadline for all changes, so I'm hopeful that things will come together and I can concentrate on teaching.

It's funny: This week I reminded one of my seniors that it's her last semester of high school. She turned and shouted "Don't tell me that!" I tried to remember my last semester of high school and I can't. Not really. I remember significant events. The US was involved in the Desert Storm. Congress was making noises about possibly reinstating the military draft. I turned 18. There was a college visitation. Making sure the college application was mailed by the deadline (yes...I only applied to one school.) Then it was graduation and all night party. That's what I remember about my last semester of high school.