The View from Here

Motivated...

Yesterday at the teacher’s meeting we were entertained by a motivational speaker. I say “entertained” instead of “motivated” because by his own admission no one can really motivate you except you. Other people inspire, encourage. They tell us how they arrived at where they are and why they are successful. They excite us for the moment. They may even bring us a bit of clarity about something that is a stumbling block to what we truly want to do. But we are the architects of our own lives and only we can apply what we hear and learn from others. We are only truly motivated when we care enough to act, and that comes from within.

Our speaker gave us the prime example of the gap between motivation and action. We all know that eating less and exercising more leads to health and weight loss, yet few of us are motivated to really live that way each day. We are a nation plagued by obesity. So we can applaud that woman who struts her newly slimmed-down body on Oprah and at the same time NOT take action to improve our own body. We’re inspired, but not motivated.

I’ve listened to dozens of motivational speakers over the years. Every major company uses them. School districts use them. Political groups use them. Community service groups use them. Even churches use them. They are usually great speakers, crowd pleasers, and entertainers full of energy and wit and even wisdom. They make us laugh and hope and think and sometimes even cry. But they cannot make us do.

If motivational speakers were really successful I’d be thin, wealthy, confident, and joyful. I’d be stronger physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. I’d probably have my own television show if I had applied all the "motivation" I’ve listened to over the years. But I’m not and I don’t, because of that little thing the Bible calls free will. I have it, and I have to admit, I don’t always use it wisely.

I had some good laughs yesterday. I enjoyed our speaker’s stories. I understood, and even agreed with, some of the points he made. But I wasn’t motivated to take any particular action. I’m not out to change the world today. I woke up with the same outlook this morning that I had yesterday: I’ll just do the best I can, where I am, with what I have. That’s about as motivated as I can get.

Penmanship

We've been having discussions at school this week about what poor handwriting most students have. I've had this discussion at other schools and with friends who teach in other states, so I know it isn't even a regional problem. Many believe good penmanship is one of those things we are sacrificing on the alter of technology. But I think that's a fallacy. It's convenient to blame typing and texting for our failure to write legibly, but I think the problem is actually much more complicated.

I think the origin of the problem lies in our need to push our kids into writing without any preparation. I remember spending hours making curves and swirls and lines and loops during penmanship lessons. Now I hear parents proudly exclaim that their three or four year old can "write his name". What the child can actually do is make something that reasonably approximates their name, but is neither correct in process nor form. So what I get in kindergarten is a child who writes his name in all capital letters, forms an O by starting at the bottom, dots his i with a circle, and makes a Y by writing V and adding a line on the bottom. This comes from a combination of convenience and personal style.

Most parents teach capital letters because it is easier and they don't have to deal with the confusion between p/b/d and i/j. And they don't think it matters if a child writes from the "bottom up" or "top down" as long as the result is readable. Maybe it doesn't...now. But the transition from printing to cursive is much more difficult for those children who have learned an unconventional writing process.

Style problems come from the fact that our handwriting evolves over the years into what fits our age, our hand, our personality, and our occupation. If you put a line on top of your J, or make Y with a V and a line because that's the way your generation was taught, or you make a circle or heart over your i because you thinks it's cute, then you pass on writing habits to your child that may not be accepted in their classroom. Regions, districts, and schools have adopted different handwriting styles- Manuscript and D'Nealian are the most common, but there are others. D'Nealian is very different and many adults aren't even aware that it exists. If you are teaching your child to write in one style and they will actually be taught the other style in school, you are just setting them up for frustration.

I think children are better off if you don't try to teach them to "write" before they start school. Instead they should just be taught to make those pretty curves and swirls and lines and loops that lead to control and finger strength. Sure, if you leave them alone they will try to make their own letters and marks and copy a few things. But they won't have the idea that there is one way to write- their parents' way. 

Of course the bottom line is that none of this really matters. I try to save my students some grief by teaching them the handwriting method accepted by my district. I try to save you parents some grief by giving you advice that will make your children better students. But over the years I've come to realize that handwriting style is as personal as hairstyle. No matter how or what you are taught as a child, your adult handwriting somehow evolves into a reflection of you. You change a letter here and a stroke there and pretty soon your handwriting is a distinctive as your fingerprints. If you haven't thought about that, Google "handwriting analysis".

Perhaps future generations won't write at all. Maybe typing and texting will replace handwriting. Until then, handwriting will be a problem for students because schools and parents have expectations. It's just like anything else- you learn the basics and follow the rules until you reach a point where they don't matter and you are allowed to do things your own way. Maybe handwriting itself doesn't really matter- but the life lesson learned is vital. 

At Last!

Got my car back last night. Yeah! It looks great and the guys at S&L Collision did a wonderful job as usual. They were the ones who worked on my car after I hit the deer a few years ago. And they worked on my other car when I hit the deer with it. If I go there one more time I have to start sending them Christmas cards.

Today is "birthday potluck" at work. On the last Friday of the month everyone brings food to celebrate any birthdays that occurred during that month. So much better than cake! We don't do anything elaborate, just fun. And there is always enough for afternoon snacks. (I know today isn't Friday. I'm not disoriented. LOL We have a county teachers' meeting tomorrow so there won't be any school.)

We are back to hot August weather. It was miserable yesterday. However, this last blast of heat always boosts a few things that are lingering in the garden.Gary picked a perfect watermelon and we still have a few tomatoes ready to ripen. I'm currently harvesting sunflower seeds for our bird feeders.

I know some of you will be traveling this weekend to celebrate Labor Day somewhere. Please be careful. There are a lot of crazy people on the road and they don't get any better under stressful conditions.

I'm getting my act together and settling into the school routine. I promise there will be better blogs ahead. Thanks for visiting with me!

Is It Over Yet?

Last night I watched "America's Got Talent", instead of my other television choice, "America's Got Problems". I just can't listen to any more speeches and promises, especially from the group that has brought us lies, lies, and more lies. Why we idolize the Clintons, or even the Kennedys, is beyond my comprehension. It's as though the country has come to accept a certain degree of immorality as just "part of the job".

I guess I'm still shocked by the revelation that the leader of the free world is just a man.

When I was a child, and even a teenager, I thought the Presidents came from a special class of people who were trained for leadership. I thought they were dedicated and motivated from their youth to be the best that they could be. I thought they were moral and intelligent and educated. I thought they were advised by lots of other men who were nearly as perfect. I never gave a thought to power or greed or lobbyists or money. I certainly wouldn't have thought lust and drunkenness had anything to do with the leadership of our country. I blame years of bored and boring social studies teachers/football coaches for dishing out only the barest facts about politics and the presidency. We memorized the dates of exciting, important events in the history of America, and little else.   

Of course my memories of any President begin with Eisenhower. I suppose because my parents viewed him as a war hero he was elevated even more in my eyes. Then came the Kennedy years at a time when I was fully prepared to do as much as I could for my country. If his death was a heartbreak for me, the revelations about his real life were even worse. It was the beginning of the end. I was finally old enough and wise enough to look behind the curtain and realize what was happening.

I haven't cared much about politics since then. Each election year seems longer and more absurd. The media loves this circus, but I'm sick of it. I know that the candidate with the most money and influence and power will "win", no matter what I think. Look at the choices we've come down to. Is this really the best we could do? Are these two men really the only ones we could find to lead us? The thought terrifies me. I don't even want to vote, and that's really a sad, sad commentary.

Is it over yet?

Ages and Stages

My grandson begins a totally new phase of life today- middle school. When I last saw him he was a child. By the time I see him again he will be a teenager. As a long distance grandmother I don't get the gradual transitions of growth and change. Instead I get the "who are you?" shock of seeing a different person each time we meet. But that's okay. Sometimes even living with a child doesn't prepare you for the changes that take place from 10 to 18. Children can surprise you in a hundred ways- good and bad. My own children were strangers to me for years. They did and said things that made me ask "who are you and what have you done with my child?". LOL Sometimes they still do! It's all part of becoming your own person.

I feel sorry for my daughters as they struggle through these next few years. Both will be living with tweens and teens. These years are like a roller coaster. Lots of hormones and drama. Lots of tears and anxiety. I expect to get some late-night phone calls.  But there will be laughter and pride and accomplishment too. I hope they can hang on to those bright moments to carry them through the dark times. I know that eventually they will be rewarded with wonderful adult children, just as I was. Gran always said "You pay for your raising!" And she sometimes told me I deserved twins- whatever that was supposed to mean.

We are going through our own stage here on the hill. My husband will turn 65 in a few weeks. He has already done his paperwork for Medicare and for early retirement. He will, of course, continue to work for as long as he can, but this birthday is certainly a milestone. We talk a lot about health and "quality of life" and things we want to do in the next thirty years. They will go by quickly and I think as you live longer into the second half of life you really want your time to matter. And you want to relax a bit, have a little fun. I remember meeting Gary's aunt when she was 101. The first thing she did was tell me a joke- a good one. She said it was important to enjoy life. I think we ought to listen to anyone who has made it past 100!

One other person in our family is going to make it to an important stage of life this year. Someone will turn 40 in December. I know she's so excited about it. :)

Hair Torture

I saw something at WalMart last week that I haven't seen in years, and then I saw the same thing on the MSN homepage this morning. I figured that must be a sign that I'm supposed to blog about it. LOL What I saw was a woman in curlers. I don't even own curlers any more, and I don't know many women who do. The inventions of the blow dryer and the curling iron ended some of the hair torture we used to put ourselves through. Curlers aren't the necessity they once were, and even if they still have them, most of my friends wouldn't wear curlers in public.

My mother curled her hair at least two or three days a week. She used hard plastic rollers, held in place with bobby pins. Do they still sell those? Anyway, she just rolled the top of her hair (about eight rollers) and the rest was done in "pin curls"- little swirls held in place with more bobby pins. I learned to curl her hair for her when I was about seven. I was a whiz at pin curls! If there was an emergency, like with actual blood, Mom would throw a scarf over her head and go out in public with her hair in rollers. However, she hated that look so much that she usually rolled her hair at night and slept in her curlers! Ouch!

I admit to sleeping in hard rollers a few times. I even tried to sleep in bristle rollers- those kind that are held in place with little sticks. I can't remember why, but it must have been for something important. Later, when sponge rollers became popular I thought I had it made- but the results were less than desirable. My hair always looked frizzy. Of course I'm not sure what I was trying to accomplish by curling my naturally curly hair. 

My high school buddy rolled her hair on juice cans. No sleeping on those! Her goal was to have straighter, bouncier hair. Seemed to work. She also soaked her hair in beer and ironed it. The things we do for beauty...

You could always tell when it was prom day at the high school. Most of the girls wore curlers in their hair so they would look good that night. I always thought that was so funny! Didn't most of them see their dates during the day?  I was never brave enough to do it.

Women with money went to the beauty shop and only had to wear their curlers under the dryer. My grandmother had her own hair dryer. I thought it was the neatest thing! It had a plastic, ventilated cap with a hose that attached to a pretty pink box. The plastic cap made a ridge across my forehead and the heat from the dryer often gave me a headache, but it could sure dry your hair in a hurry- like 45 minutes! 

I know there are a lot of women who still spend time curling their hair or going to the beauty shop. My hair torture days are over. I wash, rinse, air dry. In the winter I use the blow dryer for five minutes. My curly hair does what it wants and I'm happy to let it. I have other things to do. And I need my sleep.

Another Remote

Our VCR broke last spring and we've spent the summer watching only DVDs. However, we still have about fifty really good movies on VHS, so we decided to buy one of those VCR-DVD player combos. Of course we were smart enough to have our son hook it up. As he was unpacking it he started laughing.

"What?" I asked.

He held up the new remote- it must have about thirty tiny white buttons!

"I can just see you two figuring out this one!" he said as he laughed again.

It's a running joke in our house-Gary and I can barely use three or four buttons on each of our remotes. We're both intelligent, educated people. But I think our generation is afraid to break something we can't afford to replace. We're more cautious about doing everything "right"-I even have to look carefully before using the remote for the air conditioner. Robert, on the other hand, has an instant raport with any piece of equipment that comes into the house. He can push buttons and show me things that I didn't even know the darn machines would do. And he doesn't read the instruction booklet! I don't understand it. I guess it has to do with the caution of old age. I want to know everything and understand everything before I start pushing buttons. That's why I read the instructions...but then of course I become confused and give up and end up using only the most basic features. Robert just has that "wonder what this does?" attitude and pushes buttons at random until he figures out everything the machine does. I've told him all of his life that his fearlessness will get him into trouble...it hasn't.

You'd think that I'd adopt some of Robert's ways and start pushing buttons. I just can't seem to do it. Maybe if he wasn't around to help me I would be more daring. But he is here, and as long as he is I will take advantage of his skills.

This afternoon he's going to show me how to watch a movie! I may have to write it down.

Change

My little kindergarten students are often my "window to the world". My conversations with them highlight how much the world has changed since my own children were in school. I notice the changes in behavior, language, and especially in "concept knowledge". Yesterday was a great example. We read a sweet little book titled "Kelly in the Mirror" about a little girl who looks in the mirror and is sad because she doesn't look like anyone else in her family. She retreats to the attic (her special place) to think about it, and discovers some old photos of her mom, which of course look just like her. Happy ending. However, during the reading we had to have some conversations about a few things. First, my children don't know what an attic is or why it had so much stuff in it. Not surprising in our area of the country.

The surprise came when Kelly looked at her grandmother's old sewing machine stored in the attic and recalled her mother's stories about grandmother making her clothes on it. She even explains that it has a treadle, not electric power like her mom's machine. My children had no idea what I was reading! They hadn't seen a sewing machine, didn't know what it did.  Certainly had no concept of treadle vs. electric. And try explaining "sew" to a generation who buys their clothes at Old Navy.

This is what people don't understand about kindergarten. Children don't have the same knowledge and understanding that adults have because they don't have the same language and concepts. We've spent a lifetime, our lifetime, accumulating information. Children are not only trying to make sense of their own world, but ours as well. Each day- each hour- I say or read something that I have to explain. I forget sometimes that I am using words that have no meaning to a child.

Luckily children aren't bashful about letting me know when I'm speaking Greek! LOL If I say something they don't understand, at least one of them will pop up and say "what's that?" or "I don't get it." Then we can back up and try again.

Just a glimpse of my world today. I'd better get going to school.   

Morning Thoughts

1. When you get up at 4:00am you need good, strong coffee.

2. When you drive in the pouring rain at 4:30am you need to stay on familiar roads.

3. When you realize that you are doing this for three days because someone without insurance hit your car and it has to be in the shop and you have to share your husband's car- and his lovely work hours-you have to remind yourself that forgiveness is good. :)

4. When you haven't had enough sleep or coffee or breakfast yet, you aren't ready to write anything creative.

Have a good day. LOL

Ten Fingernails

The story of my life is written on my hands. My fingers are beginning to show the bumps and ridges of the arthritis that plagues my body. My joints are now too large to allow me to wear some of my rings. I have brown age spots. My skin is thinner and drier and more easily irritated. I have a scar across my thumb where I cut it with a machete years ago. Another on my little finger from a glass cut. Another, from a knife accident, on the edge of my palm. A hammer scar on the back of my left hand. But it is my fingernails that shout at me.

I had ten manicured, polished fingernails last month. Honest. Someone even complimented them. I've worked in flower beds, done housework, and typed all summer without breaking a nail. But the moment school starts each year, my fingernails have a nervous breakdown. The first day that I worked in my classroom I broke a nail. "Here we go..." I thought. And I was right. My nails have chipped and split and broken. I have a cuticle that is torn and sore. I'm down to three fingernails that even look like they might survive. I had to cut my thumbnail as short as I possibly could because it tore from the side. I don't know if it is stress or clumsiness or just the change in routine. I don't bite my nails. I don't make major changes in my diet when school starts. I just start losing my nails, and by next month I'll be ready to hide my hands behind my back. LOL

Well, I'm sure that was boring for most of you, but it's just one of those things that baffles me.

I'm ready for a new week. We had the accident on Saturday, our cat died on Sunday. Lots of friends and relatives on the "sick" list. Let's be careful today.