Giving Forgiveness

           Teachers---I'm hoping---begin each day with a "clean slate."  Students get a second/third/109th chance...It happens every morning at 8:45.

          I'm much less tolerant with adults.  In fact, my best friend accuses me of judging people on first impressions, and I hold onto those first impressions like a pit bull. It takes me a long time to form a different opinion, and often I do it begrudgingly.  (I guess "accusation" is not the correct term, because she's accurate.)

        Check out the Underground Teacher's blog.  Her November 11 post is a compelling one.  It speaks a message to everyone, not just teachers...

photo by deepsha

South Africa: On Film and Paper

             Last night (okay, technically it was early this morning) I watched the movie The Color of Freedom.  The history of South Africa has interested me since I was in high school...

              In case you have missed it, the movie is about the real-life relationship that formed between Nelson Mandela and a prison guard.  It stars Joseph Fiennes, Dennis Haysbert and Diane Kruger.  I won't claim it is one of my favorites, but it kept me interested until the end.  (I found it at the library; you can't beat their prices on DVD "rentals.")

         However, one of my favorite books IS Too Late the Phalarope by Alan Paton. It is a tale of South Africa and apartheid, focusing on a devastating "tragedy" brought on by a tiny sea shell. Intrigued?  Find the book and read it.

(Paton also wrote the more well-known novel Cry the Beloved Country.  I adore this book too,  but while Phalarope is a story told with a small aperature, this story is told with the shutter wide open.)

My Daughter and Her Family

           Last night I spent some time with my grandbaby, while her mom and dad spent an evening sans preschooler.

Playing dress up...This is not her "normal" look.

            By 11:00 p.m. I was exhausted (Grammies wear out earlier than four-year olds) after playing a variety of games.  We had a little fashion show with her Polly Pocket dolls (their rubber dresses are sometimes difficult to get on), we painted pictures, we played the "Take" game (one of us would pretend to fall asleep with one of her stuffed animals, and the other would take the animal away and hide it), the "Witch/Frog/Rapunzel/Prince/Mad Scientist game (I would be the witch/mad scientist and turn her from Rapunzel into a frog, and sometimes I was lucky enough to be allowed to turn myself into a prince), along with a book and baking up a frozen pizza and putting on a puppet show.

          I thought I was a decent parent, especially with my daughter---I was younger with her, and lost some of my patience when my son was born nine years later---because we had real conversations all the time, I read a great deal to her, and she was well loved.  But I was not as creative or constantly-thoughtful as my daughter is with her daugher.

           When we were having our puppet show last night, I noticed that these were not store-bought hand puppets.  My daughter and her child had made them--how frugal and clever and what a great bonding experience.

This is the dog puppet.  There was also a witch and an octopus...

            This little girl is amazingly imaginative, and it is because her parents are creative artists and have made her the center of their universe.  (Which is not to say she does not have limitations and is not disciplined.  She gets put in time-out and is even so self-aware and considerate, she sometimes even puts herself in time-out.)

This is a portrait of my granddaughter, painted by her daddy... 
If anyone is in the market for a portrait-artist, email me and
I will give you his contact information.  He can work from photos,
and works in pastels/colored pencils as well as oil paint, and is an award-winning artist.

                    When our children become adults and have children of their own, it is proof we have done at least some things right; otherwise, they would not be alive.  However, when they become exemplary parents, parents who are thoughtful and gentle and endlessly patient, the pride is unbelievable...

My Teacher's "Wish List"

          After a near-death (of the spirit and sanity) encounter with a parent and grandparent tag-team this week, I am writing down my wish list.  I know Santa is watching me, and my self-control and pleasant expression that remains intact until I get back into the privacy of my classroom--when it's empty--is evidence that I've not been naughty.  I'm always nice (at least I always have a hard, candy-coated nice exterior).  Because my job depends on it.

       So, since there is only a little more than a month before Christmas, I wanted to send off my list early.  These are things I would truly appreciate and use (not like those hideous hand-knit sweaters in old-lady colors and styles that I used to get), yet I know they'll be a challenge for the elves to hammer and glue-gun up.  And yet I am still asking for them...

photo by MADsLucky13

1.  Stop thinking I have the time and energy and inclination to plot with your child's  previous teachers from kindergarten, first, and second grade---along with the PE and Music teachers---and together, we form an evil scheme to paint an incorrect "picture" of your son or daughter. Your child's former teachers and myself do not stay up late into the night on the phone, planning how we are going to "get" your child.  There is no conspiracy swirling around, portraying your child as disruptive if they are not. Seriously.  I am so tired when I get home, I barely have the energy to take off my bra when I get home. I am too exhausted to carry out a vendetta against anyone, including your child.

2.  Chew me up without your child watching it.  Don't go off on me over the phone and allow your child to listen to it.  I have a thick skin.  My name has been scratched on bathroom stall walls and surprisingly, kids can't spell "when" correctly but there are other words they definitely can spell! I can take it.  What I can't take is you cutting my legs out from under me.  You undermine me when your child watches as you cuss me out and rant and rave and tell blatant lies.  When your kiddo sees me take that with a polite expression, it tells them they---kids--- can treat me in a similar manner.

Help me provide a "united front."  In public, portray the illusion that we are a team, working together.  In private, you can say anything you want.  I can take it.  Really.  I mean it...

3.  Come and spend a few minutes in my classroom before you decide I am the epitome of evil.  You may find out that your child is not the empty vessel just waiting to be filled with knowledge, as you previously thought.  You might just see that I beg and plead and cajole and bribe your child---and a few others---all day...many times a day.  If every teacher for the last three years has told you that your child has anger management issues/sexually inappropriate behavior/learning obstacles/problems focusing for more than 1.7 seconds at a time...Perhaps it's not evil intentions on my part.  Perhaps you need to turn and really look at your child...

4.  Be an advocate for your son/daughter.  Come up to the school like a rocket because they are reading two years below their grade level.  Yell and scream because you are demanding ways YOU can help them.  Don't holler because I took a bag of chips from your offspring after they were eating them in the middle of my math lesson instead of paying attention and then lied about it.  There are things that are scream-worthy. A bag of Flamin' Hot chips is not.

5.  Take your child to the cultural things like the free museums and the zoo and the nature centers. Expose them to the world in kid-friendly ways. Watching R and X-rated movies is not usually often  ever appropriate for third graders  second graders  first graders   kindergarteners kids.  (Even if you view them during your "family time," it's still warping their minds.)  Talk with your children. Engage in conversations with them.  Ask how they feel and what they think and what they dream of becoming.

       Santa, I know this is a lot to ask for.  So perhaps you could bring one of the above things to me this Christmas, and next year, perhaps another, so by the time I retire, my wish list will be fulfilled?

Janet Fitch

           The author of White Oleander (one of Oprah's books, for goodness sake!) has a blog.  Janet Fitch doesn't post nearly often enough for my tastes but hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?

           Yesterday (11/11/10) she shared a short piece prompted by the word "stamp."  (A word is chosen, and she writes a piece that features that word at least once...I'm hoping I have the details correct.)

photo by kathrynw9

          Read "The Skyroom."  It paints a vivid picture.  You will be able to see the girl with such clarity that if you're not already a Fitch-Follower, you'll become one...

The Eyes of a Dog...

          Annie is our "old girl."  She is almost 15, which--for a large dog--is old. We know she is on borrowed time...

          We adopted her from Love a Golden Rescue when she was 8.  Her previous owners surrendered her due to her chronic ear infections (something that Goldens are known for). We didn't have her in particular in mind when we went to the "meet and greet" session but just like Tom Cruise had Rene Zellweger at "hello," Annie had us when she flopped down so we could rub her belly.

            She had been at one of the rescue's "foster homes" for eight months; no one was interested in adopting her.  Was it due to her age?  Her expensive ears?  Who knew, but we fell in love with her and thought--stupidly--that the expense of her ears was exaggerated.

           Many vet visits later, a couple of surgically-performed deep ear cleanings, countless bags of costly dog food (she's allergic to yeast) and many bottles of god-awful expensive miracle ear drops later, Annie is still perking along.  She now can barely see (cataracts), can barely hear (deafness due to her age along with the infections) but she knows what love is.  And, she knows when it is 8:00 every night--that's when she gets half a raw carrot as a treat (to a dog, it's sweet and delightfully crunchy).

         She is the best dog imaginable.  She has perfect manners---always the lady---and has the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen.

          In the evening, when I'm on the couch reading or grading papers or watching TV, she comes up and nudges my hand so that it's resting on the top of her head...demanding some attention.

        
And I give it, no matter how busy I am, because I know her time on earth is dwindling...