Today was a celebration of my amazing wife's accomplishments as a contestant on the pinnacle of game shows. Thanks to everyone who encouraged her, cheered her on and shared her special moment with us at Wayfarer House. Your support of her meant so much!
My super smart, incredibly talented, amazingly creative, shamelessly unreserved (on camera) will be on national television tomorrow as a contestent on America's favorite quiz show!
Check out the commercial for this week's shows! Further down the page, as well, is her "Hometown Howdy".
Her show airs TOMORROW, and I'm looking for volunteers to record it digitally. We have a VCR, but not a DVR and the show isn't available in any form online that I can find. If you're able to help, I'd be happy to offer something delicious as compensation!
To make an appearance on this show was the realization of a dream for her. Contenstants have to qualify (through two tests) to even get a chance to audition, and she went through the process TWICE!* I went with her to L.A. for the taping of the show, and I'll tell you in was an incredible experience. It is not possible to communicate just how much more intense it is to be watching the show live, and how much harder it is to keep your nerve -- and I wasn't even on playing the game! I can't discuss specifics about the show until after it airs TOMORROW, but I can tell you that it was so exciting to be there to support my wife in making this happen. Without any question, she deserved to be on that stage, and it was great to see her doing something she'd worked toward for several years.
Jeopardy! is syndicated, so check your local listings to find you when/where the show airs in your world. For us at Wayfarer House, it's at 7:30 on channel 5, and a whole bunch of us will be squeezed into the living room to watch it unfold. We hope you'll join us (wherever/whenever), and I hope you'll talk to her about it afterward. She's just bursting to talk about it!
* People who qualify for the show are put in a contestant pool and are selected for the show at random. You stay in the pool for 18 months and, if you're not selected during that time, you have to requalify.
First, to my students: I'd like to apologize if I offended any of you by standing too close. I was not ignoring my dragon breath; I just didn't have time to slay it while you were there.
I should explain.
Because of its 50-minute commute, my morning routine rarely allows me the time to eat breakfast and enjoy my coffee properly so I can clean my teeth before I get to school. Thus, it is often the case that I have to deal with it when the flow of the day allows for it (sometimes, even during class). I keep a toothbrush, toothpaste and some mouthwash in my desk for just this eventuality. I keep lots of weird things in my desk. Maybe I'll do a 10 Things post on that someday...
Anyway, I really hate when I don't get the chance to brush because I feel like I'm breathing coffee breath (or worse) all over my students. Plus, I feel better (and probably teach better) when I'm all minty fresh. There are days, though, when, despite my best efforts, it just doesn't happen until later in the day. Listerine® and Trident® help a little, but neither is really an all-day fix. It's a daily challenge to keep a minty fresh face.
Disappointingly, today was not a minty fresh day. I walked in the door and it was non-stop stuff: Meetings, teaching, the 48 conversations that take place in the hallway as I'm going to one or the other. Like many of my days, it was a challenge today to find time to take a deep breath, let alone dig out my toothbrush.
I had to be at school a little while after the students left this afternoon to work on a college recommendation for one of my seniors. I waved good-bye to them as they left, had the standard 48 conversations on the way to my classroom and planted myself at my desk. I realized at that moment that I actually had time to take a deep breath. That led quickly to the realization that I needed to get right back up and, with my Reach and my Tom's of Maine, make my way to the sink.
I returned much better able to focus on the recommendation, and I'm sure the student for whom I'm writing it will appreciate that I did so with a clean, fresh face.
It was a better recommendation, I'm sure.
Although much of the luster has faded from the celebration of Xmas, there are certain elements of this holiday (and others) that very definitely make them more meaningful and enjoyable. Here are ten of them:
1) Black Friday. I don't start thinking about Xmas until after Thanksgiving is done with but, when the time is right, I like to jump into it with both feet! I have a tradition of going out early-ish on Friday morning, getting breakfast and heading to the mall. I don't do this to take advantage of sales or do any real shopping; I just go out to immerse myself in the spirit of the season. And people watch! I love to just watch people do their thing at the mall, and rarely are there more people to watch than on the day of Thanksgiving. NOTE: I did not get the chance to do that this year because we were with my folks, which might account (at least in part) for why my attitude toward the holidays is so subdued.
2) Evenings until Christmas Day. Sitting in the softly lit living room with Theo all dressed up (Theo is our ficus tree, who doubles as our Xmas tree), listening to good holiday music or watching It's a Wonderful Life just radiate all the best things of the season.
3) New Year's Eve and New Years Day. Wifeness and I have been celebrating our anniversary with the Wayfarer Community on this date for 432 years (give or take), and it has taken on a life of its own. We've done a culinary theme for many years, we (those who have stayed up) always go outside just at midnight to quietly wish each other a special year ahead (going back inside almost immediately because it's arsefreezing cold outside), and then there's Fatty's. It's a wonderful, special way to commemorate our year of wedded bliss!
4) Chinese New Year. Of course, we bring in all manner of Chinese food, and our little lion does its annual dance of blessing (complete with lion dance music). It's nothing like what you'd see in Chinatown, but our humble way of paying homage to the culture of Shaolin helps keep our house connected to some very important and special people.
5) Memorial Day Weekend. This weekend marks the unofficial start of summer at Wayfarer House and, as such, the beginning of the grillage season, as well. For me, personally, it's also the beginning of the long and exhausting annual trek that is my school year.
6) Graduation Night. I wear a tie only twice a year for my job, for Parent's Night (but not the last two years because I've run straight from the soccer pitch to the classroom) and Graduation Night. Graduation at my school is special for a lot of reasons, but this is the day that I say a formal good-bye to my students. I give them hugs, tell them I love them and reiterate that, although my role as their classroom teacher may have ended, I am still there to support them in any way I can. I'm very honored by the number of alumni who continue, even years later, to renew, expand and strengthen their relationship with me into something mature and reciprocal. It is a testament to the value of connecting with students as people first.
7) Father's Day. On this day for many years, Wifeness' family gets together at a local lakeside camp for the annual lobster feed. The big table is unfurled (seriously, this table is like 15 feet long!) and everyone brings a dish, their lobster (or other food, as desired)... In recent years, I've taken to biking from Wayfarer House to the lake for this event (a hilly trip of some 30 miles). It's two hours of nothing but me and the quiet sounds of country roads, which is really about the best way to celebrate being a papa.
8) Fourth of July. The other gathering day at the lakeside camp, but without the lobster. I bike to the lake this day, too, usually, and the water is usually warmer by then, so there is more swimming.
9) Family Reunion. The second weekend in August is always set aside for this event. Its location and attendance vary according to the year, but it's an opportunity for all of that branch of Wifeness' family to come together and renew their ties. My family has no such traditions, and I'm grateful that my girls are able to be part of this. It strengthens their concept of family and encourages other, less dedicated members of the bunch that to be active members.
10) Thanksgiving. Regardless of where it's celebrated, the chance to get together with family (given and chosen) and appreciate all that I have is special. And sure, copious amounts of turkey and football are great, too!
I've come to the conclusion that I'm oversaturated with two rather seasonally ubiquitous things:
Holidays: It's not so much that I'm done with Xmas (although, to be sure, I'm slowly heading in that direction). Rather, it has to do with the fact that, more than ever before, Santa has stomped all over every other holiday from Columbus Day to Hanukkah and, in doing so, overwhelmed mind and media with the narcissistic belief that if it's not red and white, it just isn't worthy. Add to that this year's theme "Let's celebrate fanaticism!" which seems (to me, at least) like business and advertising are promoting unrestrained, extremist shopping behavior as an appropriate social value, and I have reached the point where my tolerance for (nay, hypersensitivity to) the high level of mania that is now deemed acceptable in the name of the holiday season has left my soul exhausted and my eye twitchy. I've written a letter expressing my support of Nordstrom's decision to wait until after Thanksgiving to put on their Xmas face and I'm doing my best to quietly, subtly suggest that the mainstream needs to take a step back. I cannot be the only one dismayed at the direction our holiday season is headed, but I worry that it will get much worse before it gets better.
Politics: The 2012 election season started right after the 2010 congressional elections ended, and this smacked of a blatant attempt by both parties, but especially the Republicans, to turn the Race to the Whitehouse into some kind of drama rich reality show, full of drama and completely devoid of any value whatsoever except as a diversion. Such premature agitation of the nation's political waters would seem to serve no useful benefit, and risks wearing out the voting public by overexposing it to a near constant stream of daily phone calls, issue ads and proclamations that the nation is "on the wrong track" (a statement made, as it happens, at election time by the minority party in every presidential contest since my birth). It has certainly pushed me, as a devout and passionate independent, to the point where I avoid any mention of politics in the media and steadfastly shun discussion of the topic during conversation (teachable moments with my students excepted). It's not that I do not have opinions about the issues facing our nation. It's not that I am an apathetic participant in our democratic process. It is simply that I have seen so little substantive dialog among either the candidates or the gaggle of pundits that dissect their every syllable that to follow the noise would amount to a colossal waste of my time. I intend to check the waters again after the primaries (as an independent, I don't vote in primaries, so I have that luxury). When the field is narrowed to two (or more, I'd like more), I'm hoping that someone on the dais has something intelligent to say. If not, I'm quite happy to turn off the tv and unplug the phone.
Are you oversaturated by something?
Even though it's been a while since I've posted them, I've been collecting quotes quite steadily for a year. Here are some I've set aside to share...
"I'm this close to rocking my Patriots snuggie to work tomorrow morning." Ashley, our new local television meteorologist, who is clearly a dyed-in-the-wool New Englander.
“Why would you even think that?” Karly, questioning why I was about to admonish her for socializing instead of practicing her French when I saw her pull up a chair to a classmate and get comfortable with a cup of tea.
“His success made him almost a bigger story than the World Cup itself. We may decide to give Paul his own small burial plot within our grounds and erect a modest permanent shrine. While this may seem a curious thing to do for a sea creature, Paul achieved such popularity during his short life that it may be deemed the most appropriate course of action.” Stefan Porwoll, manager of the Oberhausen Sea Life Center in Germany that housed Paul, the octopus that fascinated the world by correctly predicting results at this past summer’s World Cup soccer tournament.
“Yep.” Emily (RIP), after taking a random mouth guard from off the bench and putting it straight into her mouth to see if it was hers.
“Is there too much granola in this room for you?” Loris, questioning someone’s “hippie tolerance quotient”.
“I’m thinking of imposing an hourly limit.” Wifeness, on the number of questions asked by the children.
"Well, it's a rather complicated proccess. First, I go and get a paper plate, plastic knife, plastic fork, and napkin. I unpeel the entire banana and place it on a plate. Then I cut it up into tiny slices using the knife (and leave the banana on the plate still in its relative banana shape). Next, I proceed to pick up each slice of banana with my fork and consume it. In this manner of banana consumption I don't feel rushed by the peel and do not get my hands all yucky (of course, I have a napkin if that does happen.)" Joanna, on her particular method for enjoyng bananas.
“Do you have scissors and glue? I need to make fire.” Lindsay.
"GAAAARGHGHGH! That’s my noise of very frustration!" Ella.
“How do you say benefits?” One of the many seemingly random questions I receive during my classes that are assiduously ignored (in this case, because the whispered discussion I overheard that immediately preceded it involved the word 'friend').
“What if I know what the word is in Hebrew? Can I put that?” Jonah, during a Spanish exam.
“They smelled like past.” NiNi, describing the stuffed animals she recently discovered while poking around the attic.
“It's time for some thrilling heroics.” Jayne Cobb, from the series Firefly.
“I stopped a lot of balls. It hurt.” Jake, a first-grader, at the end of a first soccer match as a goalie.
Happy week, everyone!
2:00am Alarm goes off. Pitch black. Must get up.
3:00am Bags in car. Wifeness, children up. Eating something. Ready to drive an hour to Pensacola to catch our flight. Mom coming, too (she'll drive the car back).
4:05am Mom drives off.
4:06am Wifeness realizes her wallet is not in her luggage. Brief drama ensues.
4:13am Wheel breaks on Wifeness' luggage. Brief drama ensues, followed by exasperated phrase, "Really?!"
4:45am Through security (who lets Wifeness through, despite having no identification). At the gate. How is it possible that every, single flight we take goes in and out from the gate farthest from the entrance?
5:25am SiSi's water bottle leaks on her and her carry-on bag as she finds her seat on the plane. Brief drama ensues.
5:30am Wheels up. NiNi sits next to Papa and chats at regular intervals throughout the flight, breaking Papa's concentration as he tries very hard to control his motion sickness. Airsick bags are located, but are not required.
7:45am Arrival in Atlanta. Connection to Boston is at the other end of the airport at (once again) the farthest gate possible. The long walk begins.
7:55am Arrival at Gate A32,741. Several among the group decide to visit the bathroom just as the intercom announces boarding for next leg of the journey. Brief drama ensues. Intercom announces the wrong flight. Ours is NOT boarding at this time, after all. Again, the exasperated phrase, "Really?!"
8:35am Wheels up. Wifeness and children are seated separately, so Papa sleeps to alleviate the worst of his motionsickness.
9:30am Zzzzzzz.... *snork* "Beverage, sir?" So much for sleep. Airsick bags located, but are not required.
11:10am Arrival in Boston. The long walk from Gate 2.39x10³ begins.
11:18am Pitstop at Starbuck's. $40 for coffee? Whatever. Just give me that mocha goodness.
12:10pm On the bus to Newburyport. It's nearly as warm in New England as it was on the Gulf Coast! Kids sit by themselves, so Wifeness and I get to sit together. Airsick bag (stolen from plane) is located, but not required.
1:20pm Arrival in Newburyport. Switch to minivan. Just a little farther to go.
1:45pm Arrival at MomnDad's. Will decompress here for the day and leave for Wayfarer House tomorrow. A wise choice. That airsick bag was starting to look awfully inviting.
2:30pm Zzzzzzz....
Engaging in long discussions with my father over pipe and coffee.
Watching him build a table with plywood, dowels, glue, paper, resin, bondo and a log from a nearby tree (when asked years ago why he did things like that, he simply said, "Well, nobody else is doing it.")
Listening to my mother talk about how wonderful my children are, and how Wifeness and I are such great parents. I think she is genuinely in awe of this, and that she could have somehow contributed to this is a source of constant surprise to her. I don't know why. My folks may not have been the paragon of exceptional parents, but they did an excellent job of modeling for their children what a loving house should strive to be. Their example, and the fact that my youth was notably devoid of drama, neglect or abuse, gave me a good sense for what the ideal of parenthood is supposed to be -- and that it is not the same for everyone.
Watching both of my parents rediscover their grandchildren. They see them so rarely that the kids have changed completely between visits, and are entirely different people each time. I'm sure they'd like to be a greater part of their lives, they enjoy seeing how much they've grown each time.
Appreciating that, as older people, they do not have the endurance for the busy, always-on-the-go lifestyle we lead. Although I think it's good (especially for my mom) to be more active, the level of energy in our world is much higher than it is in theirs, and they don't maintain the higher level well for long. Even their dog takes more naps when we're around!
Trying not to roll my eyes while my father tries to convince me that buying a double-wide mobile home is the smartest financial decision one could make.
Arguing with my mother about the amount of (unnecessary) cleaning she's doing, just because we're here.
Realizing that my parents are getting older, and wondering how many more times their grandchildren will get to see them before they die.
Hoping that, as I hug them good-bye, that it will be at least one more.
The fourth principle of Shen Gung is simply to say, “thank you”. It is a reminder to recognize that our place in the universe is not entirely (or even in large part) of our making. Rather, we are here as we are because of countless blessings and help of myriad parts of the universe. To be sure, our choices matter; without them the universe cannot act on our behalf. Yet, it is important to acknowledge that our karma (what we are here to do) cannot properly be achieved single-handedly.
Today is the day in American culture when we take time to appreciate that which we might otherwise take for granted. In no particular order, I offer the following:
My family, both given and chosen. The distinction between the family we are born to and the family we create is a subtle one in my world. That the latter should take a place of honor equal to the former is a concept that many people either do not truly understand, or else reject out of hand as detrimental to the survival of traditional ideas like blood lineage and property ownership. I understand this concern, but since I place a higher value on relationships than I do either ancestry or property, it is appropriate that I should honor the relationships that have made my life so rich, healthy and content.
My profession. I knew from a very early age that I wanted to teach, and I am blessed to have found so quickly a job that allows me to challenge myself to do the things that I value most -- to build quality relationships, to think critically about how people achieve their best and to develop a unique style of sharing what I know that helps people to find purpose, contentment and motivation to discover who they are.
My health. I am not the picture of perfect health. My waistline continues to be broader than it should be. My thyroid is dying, and my gallbladder is already dead and (thankfully) gone. I have plantar faciitis that is taking its good, sweet time clearing up. But last year I biked 250 miles up the middle of the Green Mountains. The two years before that I competed in intermediate distance triathlons (a hobby I very much look forward to continuing for many years). The year before that I biked 400 miles. That I am able to do these things even in my imperfect state of health is a blessing, and I am grateful (and a little amazed) that I have so much that I can do -- and even improve at.
My nationality. I am not often proud of the way my government represents me, but I am very much aware that I am a citizen of one of the richest, most technologically advanced nations in the world and that such membership, to quote American Express, has its privileges. I have the freedom to say so when my government embarrasses me and the right to vote my convictions. I have the resources to do amazing things with my life and I am protected by dedicated military and civilian forces in the process of pursuing those things. I have power and prestige as an American and, although I don’t value these things terribly, it is undeniable that they make my life much more comfortable than it would be otherwise.
Technology, and my access to it. I have a laptop. So does my wife. In fact, Wayfarer House has within its walls a computer for every individual who lives there. I have a blog and a Facebook page. We have WiFi. We have the ability to watch more TV on our computers than we do on the actual TV (I’m pretty sure we do this). We have access to a projector and good, loud speakers, and we can use these things to host drive-in style movie nights during the warmer months. We have, among us, more than one digital music player per person (I have the two smallest, oldest ones). Everyone over 16 has a car. I have a snowblower. I have power tools. There is a washer and dryer, and a dishwasher. These are all marvels that did not exist 100 years ago. Hell, the Internet didn’t properly exist 20 years ago! That I enjoy these things today is nothing less than astounding, and I am grateful for them and their contribution to a life of comfort and convenience.
My mad ninja-like skills. I can cook. I can write fairly well. I can pull a J-turn. I can fix damn near anything. I can do a crossword just by hearing it. I can speak six different languages and imitate accents from at least another dozen. I can tell you pretty much anything about you after sitting down with you for an hour of conversation. I can light a fire without matches. I can whistle a decent jazz improv piece. I can bike a loooong way. I can teach you how to solve an algebraic equation with your body. I can track a variety of wildlife. I can bend a corner kick into the net past a goalie. OK. Maybe some of these aren’t what you might call widely applicable, but they’ve all helped me out at some point in my life and so I am thankful for them.
The wisdom that has come from my experience. I was talking to a colleague and we were reflecting on just how much we have come to know that our students -- even our most gifted and motivated -- simply haven’t come to. We have learned so much just by being on the planet for 40 years! It makes me wonder what I’ll have learned in the next 40!
I hope that, whatever it is you are thankful for, you take the time today to honor it. Then go to bed early.. Black Friday sales start early, people!
I've tried calling you, like, 4,812,906 times and no one answers. This means:
a) You're dead.
b) You're hiding.
c) You're so goddamn busy that you don't have time to answer the phone.
d) You've moved and haven't unpacked the phone.
e) You've moved and decided that you really didn't like having a phone.
f) You've suffered a head trauma and have forgotten how to answer the phone.
g) You've changed your number.
h) I've been dialing the wrong damn number the last 4,812,906 times.
i) You've perpetrated violence against your daughter, but in the process wounded yourself, so you're not able to reach the phone to answer it because you're bleeding out slowly on your new living room carpet.
j) The phone company is accidentally routing your calls to Czechoslovakia, where it's too late at night for any reasonable person to answer the phone when I call.
Please select any/all that apply and return to sender.
Sincerely,
Wayfarer
I was reading something from a student yesterday that contained the phrase, “...then he did something unexpected...” No sooner did I read that line than, into my head, unbidden, came the phrase, “...and then something happened the Ring did not expect.”
Have you ever had that happen to you?
I mean, there I was just minding my own business and -- Pow! Right out of nowhere it came and, once it was in there, it was all I could think about. It got so bad that I was nearly to the point of loading up The Fellowship of the Ring just to watch that part so I could get it out of my head.
This got me to thinking of other such lines or quotes from movies that come into my brain like that. Once I started thinking about it, I realized there were quite a few. I've picked 10 from among them to share. Some of them are from movies you probably know. Others, maybe not. Test yourself! I’ll give a prize to someone who gets them all (don’t ask me what, though).
1. This pops into my head every single time my wife starts the blender for her smoothie in the morning.
“Oh, yeah. You blend.”
2. How many times do you tell kids to watch what they’re doing? Very often, this line follows such an admonition on my part. (and it comes with a particular Chicagoan accent)
“You’re being careful, aren’t you.”
3. It doesn’t happen often that I lose my keys anymore, but every time I go looking for them this plays in my head. Maybe it’s an unconscious incentive to find them quickly.
“Haven't you ever lost your keys, Dr. Bronx?
4. Although not strictly from movies, this quote often comes into my brain with the image of pointy ears and a raised eyebrow.
“Fascinating.”
5. No one from the generation of my students recognizes this quote when we’re playing games like Pictionary, but I’m reminded of it a lot.
“Baby fish mouth! Baby fish mouth!”
6. I don’t know why, but I hear this in my head a lot whenever my students come into the classroom sniveling about their weekly exam. Perhaps it’s because it’s said in a snivelly voice.
“But I was going into Toshi Station to pick up some power converters!”
7. This quote follows any song by the Rolling Stones, but also any time someone says something unintelligible to me twice in a row.
“Speak English, Mick!”
8. Related to #7, this pops up whenever I can’t hear someone well, even after they’ve repeated themselves. It’s best repeated with an Hispanic accent.
“Ah, Jonathan! You sound so far away!”
9. Back when I had Max on my soccer team, this quote came to mind every time I yelled to him from across the soccer field. I don’t have Max now, but it still comes regularly when I’m trying to get someone’s attention during a game, especially (and for no particular reason) during corner kicks.
“Max! Follow that frog.” [Car zooms off ...] “Max!” [Brakes screech. Car reverses...] “Follow that frog, with me in the car!”
10. Finally, before many endeavors runs perhaps the most famous lines ever uttered from Billy Crystal and Carol Kane.
“Bye bye, boys!”
“Have fun storming the castle!”
[whispering] “Do you think it’ll work?”
[whispering] “It would take a miracle.”
“Buh bye!”
Judd, over at Sunday Stealing contacted me a while back to say that he’d “stolen” my Monday Meme from a couple of weeks ago. I checked out his site and found lots of other memes with lots of other bloggers’ responses, which is great because I’m always interested to read what other people have to say. What you’ll read below was originally(?) stolen by Judd from Emily Barton’s blog Telecommuter Talk. I’m stealing it from her, through Judd, to use today.
TIME TRAVELLER MEME
Emily's rules state the following to get you started:
-- Depending on your age, go back 10, 15, 20, or even more years.
-- Tell how many years back you have traveled and why.
-- Pretend you have met yourself during that era, and tell us where you are.
-- You only have one "date" with this former self.
-- Answer the questions below.
0. Okay, as we start, what year is it and how old are you? My younger self is 21, and it is the same date twenty years ago (or as near to it as I can recall clearly). My younger self is living in New Hampshire and working at a budget hotel chain near the seacoast. He is newly married, recently graduated and feeling much like he's starting out on an adventure. Ironically, this is not far from the truth, but his adventure--like many adventures--will take him places he would never have imagined. I think the best place for us to meet would be a little breakfast place right in downtown Portsmouth. It's no longer there but, twenty years ago, it was a wonderful place to sit and converse over eggs and coffee. He would know it well.
1. Would your younger self (YYS, from here) recognize you when you first meet? Well, I have shorter hair and a beard now, but I’m about the same body type (though I’m much fitter now than my younger self would be). My eyes are, I think, as distinctive a feature as they were then (this was pointed out to me this past weekend when, not once but twice, people looked at me with recognition after having not seen me in several years). I'd probably look a lot like my dad to his eyes.
2. Would YYS be surprised to discover what you are doing job wise? No, but I think my younger self would be very surprised by the route I took to get there. He would undoubtedly wonder why it took so long, and why the hell I’d moved to Las Vegas. To explain to him that I fell into a short-lived career in graphic arts in Sin City before finally becoming a teacher would require some time to do well, and to do it without telling him things he shouldn't know about his near future would be challenging.
3. What piece of fashion advice would you give YYS? Fashion advice?? From ME?? He’d know better than to accept it, I think. He'd already know that he could wear more colors than black, white, blue and grey (something my 16 year old self was afraid to explore), but since my wardrobe now is much like it was then, I'd have little to offer. I only thing I can even come up with to go with footie (below-the-ankle) socks sooner. He'd appreciate that. Oh, and I'd tell him to stock up on Champion® 90/10 sweatshirts whenever he can. They get harder to find.
4. What do you think YYS is most going to want to know? Is there a Community School yet?
5. How would you answer YYS's question? With a sigh. I'd explain that it's moving forward, if at a glacial pace. I'd explain that, even though it's not established yet, more and more building blocks are in place. I'd explain that there's a lot to learn first because no one else has done such a thing before (he would not believe this), but that I'm feeling more and more confident of late that, when it's off and running, it will succeed well. That's truly what both of us want.
6. What would probably be the best thing to tell YYS? Start studying Buddhism now. It’ll make a lot of sense to you and will put you in the right mind to do life well as you get older. Don't be afraid to do what you need to in order to realize the the potential of your life. Your fear will cost you valuable time and make things much more complicated.
7. What is something that you probably wouldn't tell YYS? What’s going to happen in the next few months. It’s important that it happens, but, even though it will be painful, it’s important that he not know it’s coming. He'd try to change it, and that would just make it that much more frustrating. It's supposed to happen. It needs to happen for all that follows to come to pass.
8. What do you think will most surprise YYS about you? That I’m married to my wife now and not my wife then. That story would be most interesting to tell my younger self, but only after he’s a little older. Lots of people have heard the story of that time of my life, but only he would understand and appreciate all the nuances. There's just a lot about that story that can't properly be shared.
9. What do you think will least surprise YYS? That our kids are the wonderful brand of weird that they are. Seriously, he knew that train was coming back around to the station sooner or later.
10. At this point in your life, would YYS like to run into "you" from the future? It is my hope that I'm modeling well the people in my world whose way of being is patient, compassionate, wise, strong and centered. I know that I have always appreciated those qualities in people. I’d be very interested to hear from my younger self (and any of you) if I’m modeling those qualities well.
Happy Monday! Thanks, Emily for a wonderful meme (I really enjoyed thinking about how this meeting might have gone), and thanks again, Judd, for bringing me into your circle!
It was a busy, hectic week. Far too busy to find the time to post anything of substance. For the record, it wasn't a bad week; it was just really full. I was, however, able to collect enough quotage for a post today (in the interest of full disclosure, many of this week's gems came from Karla's birthday party Saturday. I will have just enough time to post before I have to get up and make pancakes. Happy Sunday!
“I embrace my weirdness.” Arry.
“Yes, ma’am...er...” Jake, to me.
“How many people got the midget card?” Molly, recounting the statement of a student in her class.
“But I’m having a constructive conversation in Spanish!” Max, interrupting my French class.
"Ow! That hurts!" Juju, after saying, "Como se escribe quelquefois en francés?"
“I ran for 3 and a half minutes! No, they were not all at once.” Suzanne.
“So, I’m like a squirrel in six different ways.” NiNi, in what easily ranked as the most random comment of that particular day.
“Don’t try to make sense of it. It’s a, it’s a... It’s GOLD!” Dennis Gardman, from an NPR story on what draws people to buy gold. (you can listen to it [HERE]).
“I just had a vibe.” Lexi, who looked up just as I was in the act of throwing something at her because she wasn’t paying attention.
“Don’t talk about brownies while I’m cleaning the toilet.” Eric.
“Was I reading it from a text or something??” Ruth, who never swears, attempting to explain why I might have heard her do just that at one time.
“Well, at least it wasn’t as bad as ‘skateboard’.” Wheeler, on Ruth’s now legendary choice of card in Apples to Apples®.
“Your mother’s absurd...” My wife, attempting to use a “your mom” retort during the same Apples to Apples® game.
“Having all the people in the house brought the temperature up 5 degrees!” Karla, looking at the thermostat in the dining room. It registered 65°F.
How can a person create an excellent life? This is the meditation I’m carrying around as I take care of the myriad domestic duties that fill my to-do list on this Monday.
What makes an excellent life? Certainly one part of the answer involves understanding what we, as humans, can experience. We are, to be sure, constrained by the limits of what we can do and feel, and to ignore these limits inevitably leads to frustration, denial and, eventually, to feelings of failure and helplessness. Yet, out of fear of experiencing these things, we often turn away from the process of exploration that helps us discover concretely just exactly what those limits are. In many ancient myths, someone who wanted to find happiness, love or enlightenment had to travel first through some version of hell. Dante did it most literally, I suppose. Before he was allowed to contemplate the splendors of heaven, Dante had to wander through the horrors of hell so he could understand what kept humanity from passing through the pearly gates. Frodo Baggins’ journey also illustrates this point, even if the hell he experienced was somewhat more metaphorical. I think there’s more to be said on this, but I save it for later. I have laundry to do today.
My point, I guess, is that we can and should be active in our efforts to understand what our own limits (that is, our own definitions of what makes an excellent life) really are. Although we are wise to accept that some of the main parameters of life are fixed--we can’t truly avoid sleeping, eating, interacting with one another and doing, on occasion, at least some work we find distasteful--there is a great deal of room for variety in the way we approach our lives. I believe that this flexibility allows enough room for people to take initiative and make choices to make a real difference in their lives. One of the greatest things we can do as people, I think, is to reflect on, and then act in, ways that make our lives excellent.
Paul Graham (2006) offers this statement, “‘Always produce’ is ... a heuristic for finding the work you love. If you subject yourself to this constraint it will automatically push you away from things you think you’re supposed to work on, toward things you actually like. (It will help you) discover your life’s work the way water, with the aid of gravity, finds the hole in your roof.” I am continually dismayed by how little time we devote in our society to trying to connect with the work we love. Consider the three major activities that make up how most of us spend our free time: Watching television, conversation and hobbies. Of these three, the one that takes up most of our time and, ironically, most of our psychic energy, is the one that is the most passive and, for many of us, the most addictive. That we are not taught to look at our lives through a lens of doing is made clear to me every year by the blank stares I receive when I ask my students if they have any hobbies. I once received a response from a girl in my class, “Is watching American Idol a hobby?”
In holding Graham’s statement up as one of wisdom, I don’t mean to say that life must be all work and no play. Anyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I believe quite strongly in the value of play. Play is a great way to get to know yourself and, through that, your vision of an excellent life. “Always produce” is not meant to remove play and leisure from our lives; it’s meant to give it some sense of purpose. By making our leisure active, we continually zero in on the understanding of what makes us happy.
In what ways is your leisure time active? How does it connect to your vision of an excellent life?
This week saw the candle I'd been burning at both ends completely extinguish. And just in time for a 3-day weekend! I'm going to enjoy sleeping in at some point! I hope you get some down time, too, if you need it. In the meantime, enjoy this week's quotes...
“Wow, you’re acting kinda saucy today.” Arry, after an exchange that started with, “Can I go to the bathroom?” and ended with, “I don’t know, can you?”
“I love that you laughed the instant you said that.” Jake, in response to Ella’s comment, “I think it’s sexist that only women get to be mothers.”
“I am bereft of sure.” Joanne. (I’m right there with you, Joanne!)
“He’s a king. His name is Duke.” SiSi, of a clay figure she made.
“I got exsanguinated by a giant tick!” Victoria, of her first roleplayed character’s death.
“It was love at first sight!” Dennise, after I noticed that she’d taken the following incriminating photo with Flor, one of my muppets. 
“Do you swear in your classes?” Chili. (On the grounds that it might incriminate me...)
“You smell good! Like that restaurant we ate at.” NiNi who, in making this comment, fully refuted her earlier protestation that she did not like Mexican food.
“I’m glad you hadn’t picked it up yet,” Nana, of the very heavy air conditioner I was about to lift when she squealed and jumped, causing my heart to stop beating. She explained that she’d squealed because she’d seen a mouse.
"It feels good to get this one...” Detroit Lions center Dominic Raiola, after their 44-6 thrashing of the St. Louis Rams, which represented their first win in 11 games. The Lions, who had the NFL's first 0-16 season two years ago, had won just three of their previous 44 games before today’s victory.
"What's my score?" SiSi, after her first full round of disc golf ever. She threw for 128, but she did it from the pro tees. Her papa was so proud.
I stumbled home at 7:30,
No want to eat had I.
From soccer practice wet and dirty,
To bathe no will to try.
My children off to bed I sent.
We read, then off the light,
I cleaned up, then to bed I went,
My energy for schoolwork spent,
and didn’t stir all night.
I took the day off from school. I did not take the day off from school work, however. I reviewed exams and futzed around with how to best offer feedback on them that also made for easy recording in the spreadsheet that is my gradebook. I am still not happy with how it works.
The exams are showing me that the students are generally where they should be. I have a couple who are excelling wonderfully and a few who need to get up off their butts, but there’s not a wide range like has been the case in years past. I’m not sure yet if that’s because of the system I’m piloting or the students I have. Time will tell.
Some alumni from my soccer team will be by tomorrow for practice. They’ve offered to help run drills with the veterans of this year’s team so I can work with the newer bunch. Then, they want to scrimmage and show the younglings what soccer really looks like. I’m looking forward to lacing my cleats up and joining them. I do so enjoy taking it to my team from time to time! I may look old, but I can still regularly pwn them with a soccer ball.
My brain is awash with lesson plans, home stuff, letters half written, research have conducted and lesson plans half complete. I’m going to go to bed and hope that most of it sorts itself out by the morning.
I am an unusual teacher, and I teach in an unusual school. Here are ten (and not the only ten) things that set me apart from the mainstream members of my profession:
1. I go by my first name. Although some of my earliest alumni from my time in traditional public school still refer to me as “Mr. Wayfarer”, I am much happier being able to go by my first name. It matches my informal and disinvolto professional style, and encourages students to get to know me as a person, not just as a teacher.
2. I get, and give, a lot of hugs. This is a celebrated element of the rather bohemian culture of my school, and I very much enjoy the closeness it creates between individuals. Particularly at the high school level where everyone is hypersensitive to physical touch, to see someone in the hall, say, “Hi!” and exchange a friendly embrace just makes everyone's day go a little better. High fives are also incredibly common.
3. I don’t grade homework. This is one of the elements of the system I’m piloting this year. The decision to do this came from an epiphany I had during the summer. In a nutshell, it started from the question of what a grade is supposed to quantify. For teachers, it usually measures a student’s ability to do and know, but often there’s a whole lot of other stuff that ends up part of the equation--timeliness, class participation and neatness of work, to name some. Most people who aren’t teachers, though, look at a grade much more simply. Is the student doing well? What do they know? What can they do? Synthesizing lots of things into a single grade really muddies the water when trying to communicate clearly about a student’s progress and performance, so I started looking for ways to make it clearer. One of the things I realized was that I was counting homework as part of their overall grade, when I really only assign homework to be practice. What is the value in doing that? At best, it forces work on a student who is overloaded and who needs different support. At worst, it hides a demonstration of perfectly good skills behind a failure to do “busy work”. Once I realized I might be able to help students better by looking at their grade as a function of skills instead of assignments, it made sense to let go the grading of anything that wasn’t a summative assessment of what they knew or could do. I’ll let you know how this change in philosophy pans out, but the early returns seem positive.
4. I tell my students to solve their own problems. You don’t have a pencil? Your notebook? A clue? Don’t ask me. I’m in charge of the cosmic, celestial parts of what goes on in the classroom, and that takes up a lot of my life. I don’t have time or energy to worry about, let alone address, your own material inadequacies. Someone, somewhere has a pencil, a copy of your worksheet for you to use, some sense of what’s going on. Ask them. Use your proletarian resources to the fullest before seeking the ethereal ones. Now, if you have a problem that is celestial in nature, you should bring that to me first. Do not suffer in silence on matters of importance. Just take a minute to think about what is and is not something that needs my attention.
5. I have an “official sniveling stance”. I will have someone pose for it later this week, so you can see it. If you want to snivel in my space, you are required to adopt the official sniveling stance. No snivels will be entertained if you are not adopting the stance. This rule accounts for a near 90% reduction in sniveling and related complaints in my classroom.
6. I use muppets and personalities in my classes. Mbungo, Isabela, Flora, Rita, Eldrin and Jesus are all part of a cast of characters in an ever-growing collection of skits and stories that relate to what I teach. I’m realizing as I write this that I don’t have pics of them all to share right now, but I’ll work on it. Not all my students respond to them in person (it’s interesting to see who will interact with a muppet and who won’t), but once they’ve learned a little about each of them, reading and hearing about them in stories seems to help them engage better.
7. I let my students listen to music when they’re studying or taking tests. There are certain people who simply focus better by having music playing. I am not one of them, really, but my classes are chock full of students who are. If it produces better learning, I’m all for it. Related to this, if they’re kinesthetic learners and need to move around to study, I tell them to take a walk and come back in a few minutes and show me that they’ve learned what they need to (this works well for vocab memorization).
8. I give my home number to my students. Believe it or not, I’ve never had this abused in 12 years of teaching. Most of my students are actually afraid to call me! Maybe it’s because I make them do it as part of one of their exams?
9. I wear jeans and sweatshirts to school. In my first year of teaching high school, I wore shirts and ties and good pants. Then I realized that nobody cared if I didn’t. I wear such things now only twice a year: Open House and graduation. This year, I didn’t even wear them for Open House because we had a soccer game that afternoon and I didn’t have time. I apologized to the parents. They were forgiving. We won the game, after all.
10. I keep in touch with my students long (in many cases, years) after they leave my classroom. The alumni from my early years are in their mid to late twenties now. Several are married and have children. Some are off on adventures. Others are quite happy to never have left home. I love all of them so much, and I am honored that they come by as often as they do to share their happenings with me and my family. For me, teaching is first about forming quality relationships. High school is so forgotten about once it’s done and, with it, any connection to the mentors that helped us through that turbulent time. Those are important relationships, and learning how to nurture important relationships is so much more valuable than anything else I can teach. It makes me smile that so many of my students know this, and pass it on to others. Thanks, y’all! You make me so proud!
Many of these questions presuppose living in New England (or some other place that has a distinct autumnal culture), but I’d be curious to hear answers from people who live outside the northeast.
Have you turned the heat on in your house yet this fall? Nope. It’s only just begun to get cold enough to bring the plants in, and it’ll be several weeks before frost really settles in the valley. We have time--and plenty of blankets!
Do you allow your pets on the furniture? She can’t get up on anything but the couch now, but our cat has always been welcome on anything that people sit on.
What were your final words for September? Man, you went by fast!
What are your first words for October? Please be gentle. There’s a lot going on and I'm working right on the edge of burnout.
Do you think you’ve ever seen a ghost? Seen? I don’t think so. Felt? Perhaps.
What is the one color that represents this time of year? I’ll say orange, since it’s the one I can see best. It’s the color of pumpkins and candy corns!
Which of your senses do you think is most sensitive this time of year? My sense of smell is awash this time of year with the scents of apple cider, pumpkin muffins, wool sweaters, dried grass, decaying leaves and the enigmatic yet immediately recognizable smell of approaching winter.
What is your favorite thing to do at the county fair? I love the food. There’s a booth at the local event that does the most amazing corn chowder! And then there’s the obligatory dog dish of French fries, followed by local peach cobbler for dessert. After that, I really like to watch the horse pull competition. Something about it evokes wonderful memories of farm life for me.
What do you like when you have a cold? I’m blessed that I don’t get sick like that often anymore (although this year I did manage to pick up a bug for a couple of days). I supposed I like best just to curl up under several layers of blanket and vegetate to mindless video entertainment. It takes my mind away from the feeling of miserable.
Are you willing to spend over $100 for a piece of winter clothing, like boots or a coat? I think $100 doesn’t go as far as it used to a couple of years ago, but I’ll spend what I must to feel the right kind of comfortable. Having said that, my favorite winter coat is a simple affair that Wifeness bought me several years ago for less than $50. That coat and a wool sweater underneath will do me just fine in sub-zero weather. It’s like magic!
What do you have too much of in your kitchen? Our kitchen is a resting area for many things. It was apples a couple of weeks ago, and Mason jars yesterday. It will be laundry tomorrow. Today is sort of an in-between day and there’s a decent balance of everything. There’s fresh bread cooling on the island, but not more than we’ll eat this week. There’s chicken being cooked down for broth, but that’s not really in the way. There are rather too many raincoats on the coat pegs right now, but those will make their way soon to the coat rack the front hall.
What gripes do you have about this time of year? That it can be simultaneously hot and cold drives me nuts! I need it to be one or the other, so I can dress properly!
Other than yourself, are you responsible for getting anyone ready in the morning? Wifeness and I tagteam the readiness duties for the two elementary schoolers in the house. In most other ways, the members of the house do for themselves.
When was the last time you cleaned your gutters? Pfft! That’s what a good, strong rain is for!
So, it’s after Labor Day. Will you still be wearing white? The only white I routinely wear is on my socks and my t-shirts. I’m still wearing socks. The t-shirts are being herded to the bin for the Great Clothes Switch.
What shows are you most looking forward to this Fall? I only really follow 3: How I Met Your Mother, Big Bang Theory and Nova (including its spinoffs Science Now and Secrets of the Dead). I just don’t have time for the rest of what’s on.
What three things have you just not gotten around to from the summer, but probably should do before snow flies? I really need to finish painting the bulkhead doors, I need to finish cleaning in the basement and (although this is mostly Wifeness’ project), I’d like to see the dining room painted. I don’t like doing home improvement projects in the winter. Winter is a time for small projects that can be done in front of the (metaphorical) wood stove, not ripping wallpaper off the walls and refinishing floors.
It was a great week for quotes in my world, but it was also really busy and, for all that I tried to carry them all in my head between moments at the computer, I ended up losing far more than I could retain. Maybe I should just carry a little notebook around. Here's what managed to make it this far:
“Because he’s not Spanish.” Meredith, during French, in reply to the question, “Why is there no “e” in “grand” for Harold?”
“So, if I were to die right in the middle of a sentence, they’d only know that I am NOT?!” Brittany, in exasperation over the fact that the “no” in Spanish comes before the verb.
“If everyone expected to get caught, no one would ever commit a crime.” Wilbur Rido, convicted felon and author of the memoir In the Place of Justice.
When you're surrounded by critics it can be hard to remember your own goals and expectations, (and) you start to judge yourself by what other people are saying.” Abby Sunderland, shortly after she abandoned her attempt to become the youngest person to sail around the world.
“What’re you doing on the phone in my class?! Get off the phone!” Me, before realizing the student I was chastising was actually using one of my prop phones to practice for his exam.
“I wonder why they make women's cologne to smell like flowers. To attract men, I think you should smell like maple syrup or bacon.” Trudy.
“This is a clear case of arson!” “Arson??” “Yeah, Arsin’ around!” From Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Wererabbit
“There are just muffins everywhere!” Alex, during a soccer team meeting, as he picked a half-eaten muffin up off the shelf in the room and began to eat it. He later admitted, after I nearly vomited, that it was his own.
“If it makes you feel any better, Thursday is no longer cruciferous vegetable night!” Sheldon Cooper (with many thanks to Anonymous, who posted the link to the show I missed) .
“We could rent you a 14-passenger boat instead, if you’d like. It comes with oars. Lots of oars.” The rental agent at the place where I rent the vans to take my team to soccer games, when I called to cancel the reservation because of torrential rain.
“His name’s not Dave?? I thought it was Dave.” Shayla, after being corrected for misnaming this supposedly popular animated character:
Geese make their way south,
Plants come in, pumpkins come out.
Winter is coming.
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| [photo source] |
It’s raining, like, a lot. I appreciate the fact that we’re getting it; we haven’t had any in a long time (months) and the local flora is beginning to suffer. The thing is, getting 4 inches of rain all at once doesn’t quite make up for the deficit. All it does is run off, cause the drains to back up and make traffic a pain in the tuckus. One positive of the weather, though, is that it cancelled the soccer game that was scheduled for this afternoon. Don’t get me wrong. I look forward to every game I coach, but I’ve been burning the candle at all three ends the last couple of weeks and I could use just a little breather.
Since I ended up being at school all afternoon, I took some time to do a little housekeeping and organizing of the mountain of paperwork I need to grade while my students were taking their weekly exams. I’ll dig into the pile a little bit this weekend, but I’m thinking it’s about time for a personal day to really make a proper dent in it. I usually have to take one in early October to catch up on things because, between soccer and all the other little projects that are part of my early fall semester routine, it’s very easy for me to fall behind in my grading.
Fortunately, the pile of stuff isn’t as bad this year as it’s been in years past. Mostly that’s because I’m piloting some new routines in my courses this year that have lessened greatly the amount of paper I see in my in-box. I’ll share more about this later. Even though there’s less paper to grade, there’s still enough work to keep me busy. The trick is to find a good time to take away from my classes to do it.
Next week presents just such a time. By fortunate happenstance, I have just one soccer game on the schedule (today’s game could be rescheduled then, but that’s not likely.). Also, I have relatively few meetings during school that week and a field trip (not mine) will take students from my afternoon classes one of the days. It seems like a good time.
I just have to figure out what to have my students do that day. I want them to have something substantive (I hate when teachers just throw a video at their classes to pass the time). They’re working on describing things, but next week is scheduled to have lots of oral practice. Maybe a recorded something for them to listen to? A dialog, perhaps? I’ll have to talk to my TAs about those options. Right now I just need to find a quiet place so I can take several slow, deep breaths and listen to the sound of the rain falling. The sound of rain often brings peace to my mind.
[photo source]
...when you forget to watch the only show during the week you care about--and it’s not one that’s broadcast online!
Sigh.
[source]
My school is in the middle of its rechartering review. There are people here from the Department of Elementary and Secondary Education (DESE) attending meetings, holding focus groups, interviewing people and sitting in on classes. If you're in the building, you can see them coming and going, here and there, trying to take in all the weirdness that is my school's average way of being. I don't see them all that much, though. It's rare that my classes are observed during these reviews. I think this must be because Introductory French or Spanish is assumed to be bland, basic or uninteresting. I guess, if you took language from anyone else, anywhere else, that would be a fair assumption, but this is my school and I am me. Let me assure you that my classes are far from the average.
One brave member of the review committee figured this out today. He stopped in during my long block class just as they were about to put on their interpretive dance of adjectives (they’ve been learning all about describing words this week, as well as how to use non-verbal language to support the words they use). My visitor, dressed all official-like in a suit and tie, came into the classroom as my first group was setting up. I welcomed him--the first such visitor I’ve seen in several years--and I explained what the class was up to. It needed an explanation because my students were spread all over the room and out into the hallway, and it must have looked quite the sight to see them blocking out their movements everywhere.
He took a seat out of the way and my class settled in as well to watch the first performance. The first group’s interpretive dance, which was accompanied by the music from the Sherlock Holmes movie, incorporated the French words for cocky, strong, intelligent, unique, obnoxious, brave and happy, as well as a word they looked up, afraid. None of the students in this group was a dancer, but all together they created a thoroughly engaging, detailed and well-prepared presentation of their understanding of what we’ve been learning. The applause was enthusiastic (as is usually the case), and we moved right into a review of these words and how the group communicated them without words.
My observer left at that point, I'm sure to go to yet another meeting. I think he left a bit shell-shocked, but absolutely impressed by what he saw. He could come into pretty much any class on pretty much any day and leave pretty much the same way.
I'm sorry I don't get more visitors in my classes. My students to such amazing things all the time, and it's a little sad that the only person who gets to see it most of the time is I. If you're ever in the neighborhood, stop on by. Come watch my class. Seriously, you will leave just like the DESE will tomorrow--a little shell-shocked, but absolutely impressed!
I once found a website (now defunct) that used to share words from other languages that had no exact equivalent in English. It got me thinking about words I knew in other languages that I found beauty or value in because of the thoughts they communicated. I speak six languages with varying degrees of proficiency, but to come up with ten words I knew that really had a depth of meaning unmatched by my native tongue was a real challenge. This post has taken me a while to put together.
1. Ganas (Spanish). Ganas can be translated as “feel like” to express a general inclination, but as a cultural gestalt, ganas carries so much more meaning than that. It is desire, heart. It is to be singular of purpose and intent. It represents a kind of conviction that “want” simply doesn’t communicate. I heard this word used to best effect by Edward James Olmos, who played Jaime Escalante in the movie Stand and Deliver.
“You're going to work harder here than you've ever worked anywhere else. And the only thing I ask from you is ganas. Desire. If you don't have the ganas, I will give it to you because I'm an expert.”
I preach that to my students every day in the classroom, and I work hard to be the same inspiration to my students Escalante was to his.
2. Disinvolto (Italian). To be disinvolto is to be relaxed, casual, easygoing, self-confident and a little cheeky--all at the same time. I love this word because it represents all I strive to be in my best moments!
3a/3b. Celibe/Nubile (Italian). I find it amusing that these two cognates (words similar in both languages) apply to males and females respectively, but in English they both mean the same thing. They describe someone who is “single”.
4. Flâner (French). This verb, which nowadays means simply to stroll, has its origins in the rather curious tradition of walking turtles down the street in Paris. The turtles set the speed of travel, so observationism (that’s not really a word) was almost forced. The world became a feast for the senses! A flâneur is perfectly well aware of their slow, leisurely behavior, but isn’t concerned; it’s all about the journey, especially if it’s unhurried.
5. Schwangerschaftverhütungsmittel (German). The German language is, to say the least, very comfortable with compound words. They look frightening if you’re not used to seeing them, don’t they? My college German professor told me, though, that most longer German words are made up of several shorter words put together, which makes them easy to figure out--if you understand where the smaller words are, that is. Here’s the breakdown: Schwangerschaft (pregnancy) + verhütung (prevention) + mittel (remedy). In other words, a contraceptive. Of course, with a word that long, by the time you actually get through it to ask someone to use one, it might be too late.
6. Tao (Chinese). A popular word in English, many books have been written with the opening words, “The Tao of...” At its most rudimentary, it means “way” or “path” but, as a term of philosophy it is used to describe (as closely as any word can) the authentic and true nature of things. The thing about tao, though, is that it can’t properly be expressed. Taoism would purport that we can know it, that its principles can be followed, but there is an inherent futility in trying to understand or control it outright. This seeming contradiction is one reason I enjoy studying--and practicing--Buddhism and Taoism.
7. Nunchi (Korean). This is a simple word for the ability to sense what would be the wrong thing to say in a situation--and, by extension, the ability to resist saying it. It goes beyond tact or simple manners; it is the ability to read an audience and instinctively, immediately know what’s appropriate. Nunchi is a great thing to have, especially at parties. I wish I had more of it.
8. Desenrascanço (Portuguese). There is, in Portuguese culture, a great deal of value placed upon the ability to solve a problem without the right tools, training or know-how. To spontaneously draw on your imagination and whatever resources you have at hand to figure out what’s “good enough” is a quality many Portuguese believe is essential to living in their world. It is even taught in colleges! Desenrascanço (literally, disentangling) is the sweet spot of workable that exists between what works perfectly and what will blow up in your face. I heard this described somewhere as “to pull a MacGyver”. That seems appropriate.
9. Schlimazl (Yiddish). I only recently learned that this word meant “someone who is unlucky”. I heard it used first in the theme to the show Laverne and Shirley along with the word “schlemeil”, which refers to a person who is clumsy. Robert Kuttner put the two terms in context for me with the following: “A schlemiel is the traveler who spills his coffee on a fellow passenger. A schlimazel is the fellow he spills it on.” With that explanation, a mystery of many years was instantly made clear. Now I have to go find the theme to Laverne and Shirley and listen to it!
10a and 10b. Tatemae and Honne (Japanese). These two related terms refer respectively to what you pretend to believe and what you actually believe. I love that Japanese culture, with its high degree of reserve, recognizes that there is a difference between what we actually believe and what we're allowed to admit we believe. The closest we have to this is the term “political correctness”, but this term carries a certain distain that simply doesn’t exist in the equivalent in Japanese. From what I know of it, Japanese culture seems not to view the dichotomy as a source of angst or stress. Neither is more true or honest than the other. Rather, they are simply two sides of the same reality. It is, it seems, just the way the world works. I like that view of it.
I had a wonderful conversation with my father this past weekend about the nature of happiness. We often talk about things like that over the phone; it’s one of my dad’s favorite things to do. We sit at either end of the phone, each with a cup of coffee, and we just chew away on the problems of the universe. Over all, a perfectly pleasurable way to pass the better part of an hour.
Anyway, one of the things we both agreed on about happiness was that, as a condition of realizing it, we cannot understate the importance of aspirations and the daily work of trying to discover and nurture our authentic selves. As we were mulling this point, I began to wonder how many people even have aspirations. This brought me immediately to a conversation from the week before with a student, a senior, who was in the process of applying for colleges. It was a beautiful fall day, and Maureen was sitting at a picnic table outside by the door I use to enter the building. She was scratching her head, clearly wrestling with something she was writing. When I asked what she was working on, she said that one of the questions on the college application she was completing asked her to describe a moment of introspection she’d had. She asked for some help, so I offered suggestions about where to look in her past experience, but as we talked I began to discover that Maureen simply didn’t have any to draw on.
I have to be honest here; this surprised me greatly. I mean, I’ll admit that I spend rather a great deal of time in the practice of introspection, so it’s not so out of place that Maureen would not engage in the practice to quite the same degree. I also recognize that it’s not common to find teenagers to do it because they are only just beginning to reach a stage of development that allows for such things. I guess it just caught me that, after nearly 18 years of existence on this planet, it wasn’t possible for her to recall even a single moment on which we looked back and think about what she’d just experienced. Is it possible, I think now as I write this, that she just doesn’t know how?
There is a connection between introspection and aspiration. They each, in their own way, connect our inner selves to the outer world. When we work to move our internal selves closer to our aspirations through introspection, we are changing external reality, bringing together that potential we see in ourselves and the world of which we are a part. There is not supposed to be a distinction between “self” and “other” (yes, I know that sounds incongruous). Some of the most important work we can do as participants in the human experience is to lessen the gap between the two. I like Sonia Johnson’s take on this:
“When we seize power in our own world, the outer world will have to change.” (1987)
I offer, then, the opportunity to take a moment and engage in introspection. Sit and think about a moment in your life for a few minutes. It doesn’t matter when the moment occurred, or how important it was at the time. Just let your mind rest on one and allow it to sit there in the center of your awareness. Not too long, mind you. We have lives, after all. When distraction starts to take over, get up and, if you have time, find a piece of paper. If you like to write, write about your thoughts. If you like to draw, do that. If you’d rather move and do something that puts into action your thoughts, then so be it. For a few moments, just do with the moment still at center. When you’ve done, however long you’ve taken, set it aside. Sometime later this week, go back and look at what you did. What do you think?
I’m all about providing exemplars for stuff like this, so I’ll work on it over the next day or two and share what comes.
Happy Monday!
Things in my world are settling into a routine finally. Classes are rolling along as they should, Wayfarer House is fully engaged in the routines of the school year. The soccer season is kicking along without any major issues. I've been looking forward for some time to picking this back up, but there always seems to be something bumping it down on the list of things my day must see accomplished. I'm sorry it's taken so long.
Since it's Sunday, I thought I'd reinstate the wildly popular Sunday quotes post. This week's collection comes from all over, and represents only a few of the many worthy things I've heard from my students since the school year started. This year's group is going to be great for material! Enjoy.
“To work for one. *I* work for one.” Mark, in discussion how someone’s day could not get worse than being attacked by dementors.
“There’s no u, the two s’s are together, and there’s an o and an i. I was close!” Karly, verifying her spelling of the word “croissant”.
“Haha, I got your problem!! *whiplash noise*” Brian. Added to the list surreptitiously by my TA while sitting at my desk during class.
“Brian explained French grammar to me in English, using Spanish examples. It hurt.” Julia, in a note left on my laptop.
“Quiet up there! I need to get to sleep. I have phys ed tomorrow.” Pearl, age 5.
“They were just so hairy!” Sydney, after her first game against a high school boys soccer team.
“She almost gave it to me for lunch!” NiNi, of Mama’s inadvertent, yet fully prepared mayonnaise and honey sandwich.
"There's no dryer sheets. Now my clothes are gonna smell like dry!" Shayla.
“I know your sister kicked you three times trying to take the ball from you, but you can’t just kick her back. Soccer is about kicking the ball, my love, not about kicking the people.” Coach Papa, to Taylor at the end of a friendly, but contentious game of U10 town league footy.
“They’d better start fundraising now.” Wifeness, about students expressing an interest in Wayfarer House leading a student trip to Europe in 2012.
“Wow! I’m not a teenager anymore.” Karla, whose birthday is today. Happy birthday, love!
I’ll post pics soon. The WiFi at the house is dead (I think the humidity killed the router while I was gone), so I have to sit near the modem with an Ethernet cable to send and receive (I’m doing email and such in batches). Hopefully, we’ll be back to warp speed in a couple of days.
I have a list of stuff to do that must be 1½ pages. I’m going to shorten it some, then come back here.
Until then, let me introduce you to someone I met along the way. I never did get his name. He was quite friendly, though. I think he wanted to eat my gloves.
The highlight of this leg of my journey is the climb to Smuggler’s Notch. In the early 1800s, the US Congress placed an embargo on the imports of all English goods in an attempt to avoid becoming involved in the wars declared against the French Empire under Napoleon. The British circumvented the embargoby simply shipping their food, clothing and medical supplies to Canada and smuggling the materials down the Long Trail and through what is now called Smugglers’ Notch Pass. The geology of the pass is, apparently, well suited for smuggling because of its remoteness and the fact that it is laced with many caves and caverns which served as hideaways and could be used to store goods and supplies. For well over 100 years, Smugglers’ Notch was used to transport illegal goods into and out of the United States -- from cattle to slaves to alcohol, during the Prohibition Era. The caves are good for storing illegal alcoholic beverages at near room temperature, or so I’ve read.
After I’ve climbed the Notch, I have just 30 miles to ride before I arrive at Carol and Pete’s. They’re hosting the Morrison Family Reunion this year and have, for the second time, offered lodging to our family at this event. Their property is 1/10 mile from the Canadian border (the last time we were up there, we snuck across through the woods for just long enough that the helicopters came out looking for us -- it was very exciting). By that time, I will have crossed over covered bridges, coasted past cornfields and grazing cows, taken in a landscape dotted by churches with tall steeples and 18th-century brick houses behind white picket fences. I will probably race at least one farmer on a tractor and more than a few old timers will stare at me from their dilapidated porches. I will ride quietly though more than one quaint village, but I will also see more than my share of metropolitan New England. Although I will miss several sites of historic interest because they are not on my direct path, I feel like I will finally get to know the state where I spent 5 years of my life--a period of time not nearly long enough to shed the term “flatlander,” as Vermonters call everyone who hails from across state lines.
This ride is entirely along SR 100, which is widely recognized to be among the best routes in New England for viewing fall foliage (there won’t be any on my ride, not that I’d notice much of it anyway). It cuts right through the backbone of Vermont, and is said to have spectacular mountain views along its entire length. A string of picturesque little lakes runs along the road, and Moss Glen Falls, just north of Granville, is said to be home to one of the prettiest waterfalls in Vermont. Route 100 grew organically from the many miles of dirt roads that connected villages dating back to the 1700s. Vermont has about 8,000 miles of unpaved roads (only about 6,000 miles of roadway are paved in the state). To a lot of Vermonters, an unpaved road is still a better road. I think this must be because people go more slowly and are more courteous on a dirt road an, in rural Vermont, that's what life wants to be. It probably also matters that dirt roads are far cheaper to maintain than their more modern counterparts. I enjoy dirt roads, to be sure, but I won't be riding any on this trip, if I can avoid it. As primarily a road cyclist, I must confess that I'm grateful for pavement. It is smoother to ride on, less taxing to my body and less destructive to my bike.
As SR 100 transformed into a single byway in the 1800s, the quintessential wooden covered bridge many associate with Vermont country roads began to appear. The primary purpose of the cover on a bridge was to provide added durability; uncovered bridges made of wood would get wet from rain and snow, and this would attract insects and fungus which would cause the wood to rot away quickly. Most, in fact, would have to be replaced every five years. Covered bridges offered other benefits, as well, though. The interiors of covered bridges apparently doubled as a local bulletin board of sorts, and travellers could read advertisements, notices and announcements as they waited out rainstorms or gave their teams of horses a rest in the shade.
This is the longest stage of the ride at just over 72 miles, and the elevation change is subtly demanding. I’ll be looking forward to passing through Waterford (63 miles along) so I can keep my eyes out for the Ben & Jerry’s Factory Store. I will have earned a very large cone of something fattening by that point. If I’m lucky, I’ll also be meeting Wifeness & Co. on their way up. We haven’t worked the details out yet, but it would be a lot of fun to see them there!
Most of this part of the trip is along SR 103, which varies in quality somewhat, but represents some wonderful scenery. One landmark of particular note along this route is The Old Rockingham Meeting House, the oldest public building in original condition in Vermont. It recalls days of old in New England, when town meetings and church services were held in the same building and there were only homesteads, not concentrated towns and villages like we’re used to today. The late 18th century structure is a rare standing example of Georgian architecture, and it comes complete with its original box pews and ornate woodwork. Like all early New England meeting houses, the Old Rockingham building served both the religious and the governmental life of a widespread community, much like an assembly hall. It was visible for miles because of its hillside location, and provided an important social monument in early town life in Vermont.
I’m hotelling it from here on, but I’m excited that I’ll get to see Erica for dinner in the evening. Erica is an alumna of mine and a veteran of my 2002 trip leading students to France. She lives near Rutland and works at Castleton State College. With so many of my students in their twenties now, it’s a rare treat to be able to connect with them in person unless they happen to live nearby. I’m very much looking forward to spending some quality time with a student I’ve not seen in entirely too long.
I expect I'll get to see some of Rutland before dinner. The original Rutland was chartered in 1761 as part of New Hampshire land grants given by Provincial Governor Benning Wentworth. Almost immediately, however, a controversy arose with New York, who claimed the same land grants under the name of Socialborough. This dispute ultimately led to settlers of the territory to form the Republic of Vermont (statehood would follow). I find this interesting because we have talked tongue-in-cheek for some time about encouraging western Massachusetts to secede from the state and join with Vermont, with whom we share a great deal of culture and social values than we do with our more urban brethren to the east. Vive la Republique!
Through Northfield, MA and Hinsdale, NH, this part of the ride follows the Connecticut River for long stretches. This part of New England was settled by the English in the late 17th century, but the territory was fiercely defended by Native Americans for some 80 years after that. English settlements were constantly at risk of raids by “savages”, and colonists were regularly killed or taken north to Quebec (to be held as hostages by the French). This caused settlements such as Northfield to revert to American Indian control on more than one occasion.
In April, 1747, during the French and Indian War, a party of French and Mohawk, having been turned back after a three-day attack on the fort at Charlestown, NH, made their way toward Northfield. A number of their group, lying in ambush at the north part of the town, set upon and killed Nathaniel Dickinson and Asahel Burt, who were driving cows up from the common meadows. This violent and tragic event is marked by a granite monument on the side of routes 5/10, about a mile north of the center of Northfield Village. On one side of the stone is the inscription, "Nathaniel Dickinson was killed and scalped by the Indians at this place, April 15, 1747, aet. 48." On the other it reads, "Asahel, son of Joseph Burt, companion of Dickinson and sharer of his fate, aged about 40." I have ridden by this small monument many times, but only recently stopped to read, and think about, what it said.
It is worth noting that much of the Morrison family, whose reunion I am riding to, is based in the area through which I will be riding on this day. Many live in and around Walpole, NH and across the Connecticut River in Saxtons River, VT. The Kurn Hattin School, in Putney, VT, has been an important part of the lives of several of the Morrison family.
I’ll be staying with Tom and Leanne for the evening at their home in Westminster, VT. Tom is Wifeness’ uncle, and is a master general contractor. He helped me install our dishwasher several years ago, and has graciously offered his expertise in wiring to me when I’ve had to add, remove or change outlets in the house over the years. He’s led a difficult life, but he is a good, good man. I’m grateful for the opportunity to spend time with them.
...it was safe to go back into the water:
[WEATHER CHANNEL NEWS STORY]
I think I’ll watch Jaws today on Netflix. I'm too far inland to have nightmares about such things.
Of course, then this could happen [HERE].
Because I’ll be gone for the next several days, I thought it might be good to stack up some posts for while I’m on the road. The content of these posts represent a synthesis of some background reading I’ve done in preparation for this ride. The posts are fairly short, but I hope they give some flavor to the experience I hope to have. I also spent some time reading about the area covered in the ride I took yesterday. Consider this a prologue to the longer event.
Prologue: Wayfarer House to Deerfield, Haydenville, Goshen, Ashfield, Conway, Deerfield to Wayfarer House.
Deerfield has been in my mind for a while now, since I’d read The Unredeemed Captive: A Family Story from Early America (Demos, 1994). This work recounts the story of Eunice Williams, an English colonist taken captive as a child by French and Mohawk warriors from Deerfield during a raid in 1704. Her mother, also named Eunice, was killed not far from Wayfarer House (a plaque marks the spot, and there is a covered bridge bearing her name nearby). The elder Eunice, wife of Deerfield’s famous reverend John Williams, had given birth just hours before, and was slain and thrown in the Green River by her captors because she was unable to keep pace with the march north through the frozen, snowy forest.
This story really brings to life what it must have been like to be here during those very difficult times. Another tragedy, which I only became aware of on this ride and only because I stopped to adjust my pack, is chronicled in Haydenville. On May 16, 1874, the Williamsburg reservoir dam broke, sending an avalanche of water over five of the villages that lined the Mill River Valley. When the flood reached Haydenville, the water was moving with such force that it picked up a house and slammed it into a brick factory with enough force to cause it to collapse like a cardboard box. The heaps of debris were so dense and tangled that people searching for survivors had to use crowbars to pry things apart. One hundred thirty-nine people were killed in that event, 27 of them from Haydenville.
I didn’t take a picture of the river itself, but it’s hard to imagine that it ever had enough force to cause such devastation. The village today is shown here.
The town of Conway was the victim of an earlier dam break, in 1869. Home of one of the few covered bridges left in Massachusetts, Conway has always had an abundant water supply. In its early years, this water provided power for grist and saw mills, as well as a number of tanneries. In the 19th century, a dam was created to provide a reservoir for the several woolen and broadcloth mills along the South River. These mills, the largest industries in town at the time, were all completely washed away when the dam burst. Conway has since returned to its roots as an agricultural community, and sports a number of maple sugar houses.
