Well, here I am again, and here we are just a few days away from a very important election for this country. I am still contemplating dedicating a new blog to my political viewpoints and feelings, but for now, I will make some points here. I know politics is a hot arena, and I do not wish to offend, but I do have strong feelings about the political dealings of this country.
One of my greatest concerns, as I have watched the movements and machinations of government, is that we, the American people, are becoming a nation of passionate, but ignorant voters. Now, before anyone out there gets upset, let me say that ignorance is not the same as stupidity. Ignorance is an absence of knowledge or experience in any given area. When we the people get our political news from short sound bites, bumper stickers, Jay Leno, David Letterman or Saturday Night Live, we are missing the boat.
That having been said, please refrain from using the word ignorant to describe people that disagree with you! Disagreement does not equal ignorance! From either side of our current 2 party mess. Ignorant describes the person who has never seen an actual bill, or looked at the voting record of the person they support. They just go by the last thing "their guy" said in the latest picture op speech. Ignorant describes someone who doesn't understand how our inspired system of checks and balances was intended to work, and all things good or bad are attributed to one man, one party or one government body.
Ignorant describes someone who doesn't see how taking one person's freedom today, in order to support a special interest group or political agenda, sets the stage for removing other freedoms down the road when the leadership changes.
The word socialism has been thrown around a lot in this current election, and there are many of us who feel like socialism is not the right direction for this country. Ignorant describes a person who claims to hate socialism but doesn't understand HOW everything they say and support falls into classic textbook examples of socialism.
A person who understands what is going on, and chooses to keep moving this way, is not ignorant! They make choices based on what they feel is the best for this country. We have the right to disagree! The trick question of the day may become.....will we always have the right to disagree?
With all of this buzzing around in my head, I got into a discussion with my son Justin, something which frequently happens while working together on the family chicken farm. We were discussing comments that he had heard, and questions raised by some of my students about what was so bad about socialism?
That is not an easy question, and our discussion came up with a valid reason for the challenge. Socialism is a great counterfeit.
Christianity, Judaism, moderate Islam and most other world "religions" have as part of their specific doctrine the idea that we are bound by faith to help those less blessed than ourselves. We are taught to search out the widow and the orphan and offer help. We are taught that the world around us is for our benefit, but that we must take care of it and treat it responsibly. We see that our association with like-minded people strengthens us in our resolve to live by "right" principles.
When Christianity or any of these benevolent religions is flourishing and strong, "righteous" believers will take care of the needs of those who can't care for themselves. But each of them has conditions regarding personal responsibility. There is little, if any, need for "administration". Merely constant admonition to believers to keep their own , and assistance in distributing the gifts of the charitable. On the other side, a person who refuses to try, who makes no effort to care for themselves, who functions as a leech on the group, is destined to be thrust out.
This is a very shorthand version of the system.
The counterfeit is forced charity....Socialism. A governing body decides what is "rightfully" acceptable as a standard of living. They make arbitrary decisions as to what constitutes "too much wealth", and set in place means to take and redistribute any wealth accumulated beyond this point. They decide for the individual as well as society, what is acceptable in public discourse, in public behavior. This government entity decides how each person should live, and those who attempt to live beyond this are penalized through this forced charity.
Sadly, however, this counterfeit is fraught with problems, one of which is a tendency toward corruption. Those who amass great wealth feel they have earned what they have, and they will do anything to protect it, even to a point of skirting the laws and values that used to be dear to them. Think of the fable of the sun, the wind and the old man. The wind claimed it could remove the old man's coat faster than the sun. The harder it blew, the colder it became, the tighter the man pulled his coat around himself. The sun shone pleasantly, and the old man shed his coat to enjoy the warmth.
These who have worked hard for their blessings of financial wealth will be like the old man. The harder one pulls to remove their blessings by force, the harder they will try to keep control. Allow them the freedom to succeed, and promote the concepts of charity and benevolance and many will willingly give much more than you could take from them. Will all..? No of course not! There will be greed and selfishness, but no government program is going to remove that. Only a change of peoples' hearts.
The other danger of socialism, maybe the greatest danger, is a tendency toward apathy. Take the American dream. We believe we can succeed!, We have been taught as part of our American heritage that each of us can make our own way in this world, and we can be hugely successful, or we can flop. Our own hard work, education, ingenuity, and perseverance make us what we want to become. If I believe that I can become a multimillionaire, these things are possible in this great country! I will have to work my backside off, but it can be done.
However, forced "charity", socialism, takes away my incentive. Why should I work and slave to make my business or farm ar anything grow, when I know that beyond a certain point the government is going to come and take it away to give to someone not willing to try as hard? Why not just let the government take care of me as well? Why should I attempt to better myself, when the government ensures that I am only allowed to keep a small portion my success? Of course the flipside question is ...Where does the government get it all? You know the answer. They take more, by lowering constantly what is "acceptable wealth", or raising the tax on success.
Listening to a radio interview about what socialism is in this country, it struck me. Socialism allows those who see nothing better for themselves, who don't feel the motivation to achieve their own American Dream, to piggyback off others. A person who can't see anything better from their own efforts, may be perfectly happy to ride on the backs of harder workers, under the disguise of social programs and government assistance.
Those of us who still believe that charity should be from the heart, not from the Legislature, need to stand up. We need to educate ourselves and those around us to the dangers of counterfeits. These counterfeits rob us of freedom to succeed, but ultimately they rob us of our motivation. Other freedoms will follow, if we allow it to thrive.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Football Secrets
Sometimes the power of a small phrase is astonishing. Case in point:
Our high school football team is struggling. They have had a bad couple of years, and they have fought hard to win the 2 games this year. Our homecoming game was this past Friday, and it was against a team that we can beat. The records on the season very similar; similar talents; should be a close game.
Several of my students play on the varsity team. I have tried to be encouraging, and as we were joking around and talking about the upcoming game, I had a stroke of silly genius.
In my 3rd year class, I have one our team's offensive linemen. He is a big kid, somewhere around 6'6", and I think he told me once about 280 lbs.(sorry if that's off). He is a very respectful student, good hard worker, and just generally an all-around nice young man. He is very likeable, and very competitive. We had talked in times past of the ability of the German language to sound harsh and angry, even if something pleasant was being said, just by speaking in a rough voice.
I had an idea. I told him I had a phrase, that if said just right, would give him a momentary advantage over his opponent. I gave him, in the harshest, yet quietest voice I could: " Du hast schöne Haare. Ich werde dir Blumen schenken". I promised him if he would say this with a growl, his opponent would lose his mental edge just long enough to get knocked on his keester. Well this student looked at me and said with raised eyebrows, " Herr Wahlquist, I can't say that. What if the kid speaks German, or he's an exchange student or something?" I told him that would give him an EXTRA edge. The phrase means "You have nice hair, i'm going to send you flowers". :)
Well, game night came and went. I heard on the news that weekend that we had lost by a score of 28-10. ( I should justify my absence from such an important event. I live 1hr 20 minutes from the school where I teach. This is due to running a family chicken farm, which needed my attention that night.) Not a fun homecoming! I decided to jokingly hound this lineman about not using my "secret weapon". When he finally came to class late in the day, I asked him why he hadn't used the phrase. To my astonishment, he responded, "I did Herr Wahlquist." I was amazed. He continued to tell me that he had only used the "hair" bit, and the other guy had hesitated and just as the ball was snapped said "Was that German?" He got knocked on his can! :)
Slightly taken aback, our big lineman helped him up (he's a good sport), and said yes. As they lined up again, the other guy indicated that he had lived for a few years in Germany. He still wasn't on his mental game. While he was talking to my guy, the ball was snapped, and one more time on his backside. :)
Well, this had not gone completely unnoticed by the other team. As they lined up one more time, somehow one questioned what the phrase meant. Well, my friend spoke english and said "you have nice hair." The other team's defensive line couldn't help laughing just a little bit, but their timing was off. The ball had just been snapped, and our offensive line blew the defense off the ball, and scored a touchdown!!
Too bad it was the only touchdown. Too bad I didn't give them a sheet of "useful" German phrases. Maybe we could have had a happy homecoming.
Our high school football team is struggling. They have had a bad couple of years, and they have fought hard to win the 2 games this year. Our homecoming game was this past Friday, and it was against a team that we can beat. The records on the season very similar; similar talents; should be a close game.
Several of my students play on the varsity team. I have tried to be encouraging, and as we were joking around and talking about the upcoming game, I had a stroke of silly genius.
In my 3rd year class, I have one our team's offensive linemen. He is a big kid, somewhere around 6'6", and I think he told me once about 280 lbs.(sorry if that's off). He is a very respectful student, good hard worker, and just generally an all-around nice young man. He is very likeable, and very competitive. We had talked in times past of the ability of the German language to sound harsh and angry, even if something pleasant was being said, just by speaking in a rough voice.
I had an idea. I told him I had a phrase, that if said just right, would give him a momentary advantage over his opponent. I gave him, in the harshest, yet quietest voice I could: " Du hast schöne Haare. Ich werde dir Blumen schenken". I promised him if he would say this with a growl, his opponent would lose his mental edge just long enough to get knocked on his keester. Well this student looked at me and said with raised eyebrows, " Herr Wahlquist, I can't say that. What if the kid speaks German, or he's an exchange student or something?" I told him that would give him an EXTRA edge. The phrase means "You have nice hair, i'm going to send you flowers". :)
Well, game night came and went. I heard on the news that weekend that we had lost by a score of 28-10. ( I should justify my absence from such an important event. I live 1hr 20 minutes from the school where I teach. This is due to running a family chicken farm, which needed my attention that night.) Not a fun homecoming! I decided to jokingly hound this lineman about not using my "secret weapon". When he finally came to class late in the day, I asked him why he hadn't used the phrase. To my astonishment, he responded, "I did Herr Wahlquist." I was amazed. He continued to tell me that he had only used the "hair" bit, and the other guy had hesitated and just as the ball was snapped said "Was that German?" He got knocked on his can! :)
Slightly taken aback, our big lineman helped him up (he's a good sport), and said yes. As they lined up again, the other guy indicated that he had lived for a few years in Germany. He still wasn't on his mental game. While he was talking to my guy, the ball was snapped, and one more time on his backside. :)
Well, this had not gone completely unnoticed by the other team. As they lined up one more time, somehow one questioned what the phrase meant. Well, my friend spoke english and said "you have nice hair." The other team's defensive line couldn't help laughing just a little bit, but their timing was off. The ball had just been snapped, and our offensive line blew the defense off the ball, and scored a touchdown!!
Too bad it was the only touchdown. Too bad I didn't give them a sheet of "useful" German phrases. Maybe we could have had a happy homecoming.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Sweet Rewards
I was reading through one of Mom's posts this afternoon. It was one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, where the main jobs for the day had either been done, or been set to another day. I did some major maintenance on the farm, and some clean-up and dirt work to get ready for winter , as well as preparing for next spring's gardening. My other project needs one more good rain to help settle in some dirt where we are going to move the shed, so that I can start building Michelle's Dress Shop.
I didn't really have any other major projects ( don't know how that happened), so I sat and watched some football with Ian and Ben. Mostly I watched, they slept on the couch. Then I thought I would come look at some more of my family's blogs. It is their fault, you know, that I am even doing this.
I really enjoyed Mom's post about peaches and apricots. It did bring back a lot of fond memories. Those were some amazing production lines, and we sure enjoyed the fruits of our labor. But Mom forgot to mention one of the favorite results of those hot summer work days. Home made ice-cream. Naturally flavored peach and apricot.
My family has a long and close friendship with ice-cream. I don't remember specific events as a small infant, but we do have some pictures of my brother David with an ice-cream on his nose. I can only assume that I have a similar relationship with that cold and wonderful treat. Those summer trips to Utah were always highlighted by the fruit canning, the large amounts of fresh fruit and heavy cream, and the home-made cold gold.
I guess Mom is right, like always. We did learn to work. And we even learned that there is joy in work, as well as satisfaction in a job well done and a reward honestly earned. When we traveled to Toquerville, just north-ish of St.George, Utah, we had great examples. My grandparents were farmers, as far as I knew at the time. My Grandpa had been a school teacher, and they had always enhanced that career with whatever they could produce for themselves. In Utah they had a small farm (probably 15-20 acres?), and they kept cows, chickens, and fruit trees. They also had a big garden, which they planted near the house and watched with great care and energy. As a kid it always amazed me how much they could work, considering how old they were. It was just expected that anyone there would help in the garden, in the kitchen, and out in the orchard when needed. I loved spending time with my Grandpa and Grandma, so I think that helped make the work enjoyable.
I also saw the satisfaction they had when the work was done. That's why I would beg to have Grandpa wake me at 4 am to help drive the cows down to the milking barn, where he and my father would teach me how to milk a cow, without spilling a drop. They taught me the importance of treating the animal with care and gentleness, and we had many conversations about important personal and spiritual things. At least that's what my memory says. I couldn't tell you a single specific topic, but I know those early morning milking efforts were more than just a chore. we would then cart the big milk cans up to the house, where we would help grandparents get them strained and into jars for refrigeration. We repeated this process again at 4 pm. Later we would enjoy fresh whole milk with every meal, and that wonderful sweet,rich cream poured generously over piles of that fresh fruit.
The only way to make it better was to make it ice-cream. And even that was work, but boy was it worth it!! Mom and Grandma would work together to prepare the cream and fruit mixture, or vanilla or occasionally chocolate. Dad and Grandpa and usually all the kids would get out the big freezer. This was not one of these namby-pamby 1 1/2 qt. electric jobs. These were the big boys! 5+ qt. canister, hardwood barrel type, hand-cranked freezer. Oh, yeah. And I think Grandpa had 2 of them! Once the goods were in the machine, Dad and Grandpa would start cranking. We all took turns, and as we got older, the boys would make a contest out of who could make the last few turns. (As ice-cream freezes, you know, it gets harder to turn). Then we would line up to sample as Dad took out the dasher, and buzz with anticipation and kid frustration as he closed it, covered it, and buried it in more ice and salt, for the curing process. Dinner came first, with all it's preparation and clean-up.
Looking back, what a lesson I learned from ice-cream! We worked many long and hard hours, sometimes messy, sometimes even "gross", and it was all for something that would have to wait til later. It wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't even unfair. It was just the nature of good things. Work before rewards. Rewards less important than satisfaction in a job well done. Job well done, no matter what! Now, can I have two monster sized scoops, please. Both flavors!
I didn't really have any other major projects ( don't know how that happened), so I sat and watched some football with Ian and Ben. Mostly I watched, they slept on the couch. Then I thought I would come look at some more of my family's blogs. It is their fault, you know, that I am even doing this.
I really enjoyed Mom's post about peaches and apricots. It did bring back a lot of fond memories. Those were some amazing production lines, and we sure enjoyed the fruits of our labor. But Mom forgot to mention one of the favorite results of those hot summer work days. Home made ice-cream. Naturally flavored peach and apricot.
My family has a long and close friendship with ice-cream. I don't remember specific events as a small infant, but we do have some pictures of my brother David with an ice-cream on his nose. I can only assume that I have a similar relationship with that cold and wonderful treat. Those summer trips to Utah were always highlighted by the fruit canning, the large amounts of fresh fruit and heavy cream, and the home-made cold gold.
I guess Mom is right, like always. We did learn to work. And we even learned that there is joy in work, as well as satisfaction in a job well done and a reward honestly earned. When we traveled to Toquerville, just north-ish of St.George, Utah, we had great examples. My grandparents were farmers, as far as I knew at the time. My Grandpa had been a school teacher, and they had always enhanced that career with whatever they could produce for themselves. In Utah they had a small farm (probably 15-20 acres?), and they kept cows, chickens, and fruit trees. They also had a big garden, which they planted near the house and watched with great care and energy. As a kid it always amazed me how much they could work, considering how old they were. It was just expected that anyone there would help in the garden, in the kitchen, and out in the orchard when needed. I loved spending time with my Grandpa and Grandma, so I think that helped make the work enjoyable.
I also saw the satisfaction they had when the work was done. That's why I would beg to have Grandpa wake me at 4 am to help drive the cows down to the milking barn, where he and my father would teach me how to milk a cow, without spilling a drop. They taught me the importance of treating the animal with care and gentleness, and we had many conversations about important personal and spiritual things. At least that's what my memory says. I couldn't tell you a single specific topic, but I know those early morning milking efforts were more than just a chore. we would then cart the big milk cans up to the house, where we would help grandparents get them strained and into jars for refrigeration. We repeated this process again at 4 pm. Later we would enjoy fresh whole milk with every meal, and that wonderful sweet,rich cream poured generously over piles of that fresh fruit.
The only way to make it better was to make it ice-cream. And even that was work, but boy was it worth it!! Mom and Grandma would work together to prepare the cream and fruit mixture, or vanilla or occasionally chocolate. Dad and Grandpa and usually all the kids would get out the big freezer. This was not one of these namby-pamby 1 1/2 qt. electric jobs. These were the big boys! 5+ qt. canister, hardwood barrel type, hand-cranked freezer. Oh, yeah. And I think Grandpa had 2 of them! Once the goods were in the machine, Dad and Grandpa would start cranking. We all took turns, and as we got older, the boys would make a contest out of who could make the last few turns. (As ice-cream freezes, you know, it gets harder to turn). Then we would line up to sample as Dad took out the dasher, and buzz with anticipation and kid frustration as he closed it, covered it, and buried it in more ice and salt, for the curing process. Dinner came first, with all it's preparation and clean-up.
Looking back, what a lesson I learned from ice-cream! We worked many long and hard hours, sometimes messy, sometimes even "gross", and it was all for something that would have to wait til later. It wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't even unfair. It was just the nature of good things. Work before rewards. Rewards less important than satisfaction in a job well done. Job well done, no matter what! Now, can I have two monster sized scoops, please. Both flavors!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Stealing a classroom
You know, I was just killing time today, waiting for my sophomores to come back from a pep rally that I did not get to attend, and I got to thinking about something to blog.
I know, I should have been grading tests or something, but it wasn't as much fun.
I had been reading some things another teacher had posted outside their classroom, and it reminded me of my own high school days. Civics class had written up their idea of a student's bill or rights. It was enlightening to see the ironic combination of ideas that included total personal freedom, and no personal responsibility, while adding the very tricky concept of "universal care-giving".
I guess we were all kind of idealistic in our younger years, and we didn't always see (sometimes by choice), that the great ideas we fought for were extremely impractical, if not downright impossible, save for a totalitarian, yet benevolent governing body, and a purely selfless society. HA! Too many greedy and power-hungry people involved!
Thinking about zealous youth, I had promised elsewhere, that I would tell the story of stealing a classroom. Before I begin, however, I have to include a disclaimer.
Please repeat after me, and then have a witness sign an affidavit to the following:
" I hereby acknowledge that the following account, although true, is in no way meant to encourage me to try such behavior, and I furthermore acknowledge that any such attempt is in no way a reflection of Scott Wahlquist's (hereafter known as "Herr") negative influence on my teenage zeal to make all things right and equal and "FAIR" in the world, regardless of their apparent propriety or even 'legality' .
"I also hereby agree that I hold "Herr" harmless in the event that I should try such antics, and receive the subsequent penalties I so richly deserve."
"By continuing on in this blog, I agree to the terms set forth in the previous paragraphs."
Now that we have the legalese out of the way, let me set the stage.
Most of the following events took place my senior year in HS, Foothill HS, Bakersfield California, to be exact. ( I had learned so much from my freshman antics). The goal of all our stunts was to drive home the point that double standards for teachers and students were unfair. Oh The irony, huh?
My senior english teacher, Mr Brackley (whom many of you in my family will remember), was a bachelor, probably in his early to mid 30's when I was there. He might have been older, but I don't remember thinking of him as OLD, and definitely anyone over 35 was. (sorry Mom and Dad)
We had tried many times to convince him that we seniors deserved some special treatment. We thought we should be allowed to ignore the rule about food and drink in the classroom. (I guess that came from the fact that we had English right after lunch, and frequently were trying to wolf down the last bite or slurp down the last of our Big G....... oh wait, watch out for unpaid endorsements, right?) we didn't see the harm in finishing our lunch during the first few minutes of class.
Well, Mr. Brackley would have none of it. Yet he always had a cup of coffee, which he refilled out of a thermos at least once during our class. We had already tried curing this habit by dropping Alka S.. (oh watch out, endorsements again) into his coffee cup while our cheerleader friends distracted him (remember my post about love life?) That was great fun, but not the point of this post.
We also felt it unfair how harsh Mr. Brackley was about restroom passes. He actually had the gall to expect us to use the facilities on our own time! Was he aware how hard it was to get to McD, or Taco B and back to school in the short 40 minutes we had for lunch? There was no way to get lunch, get back, find parking and still use the restroom. I mean, come on!? What's 5 more minutes for your favorite seniors?
To add insult, he would usually come open the door for us, let us get started on our assignment, and then disappear down the hall to the restroom!!??!! That just had to stop!
Well, we had an unwitting ally to our evil plan. Our Physics teacher, ....... I just can't come up with a name.... was also well known to do something that was against good judgement, if not school policy. He always left his classroom unlocked and unattended during his planning period. He would go into the inner lab used by the teachers to prepare for class experiments. we determined that we could hold a dance, and he probably would be unaware of it. He was right across the "hall" in the next wing over.
So, one beautiful day, with our plan in place, we waited while Mr. Brackley calmly opened the door to let us in. As one of us watched him disappear down the hallway, the rest of us removed everything from his desk, carted the desk to the physics lab, and then replaced everything on the floor in its proper order, as if the desk had simple fallen into the floor. Even the coffee cup and thermos were in their rightful place. Everything else that moved also went for a walk.
When Mr. Brackley came in, he went to the board and started to write. We were sitting in our places, where our desks should have been, writing as if nothing were wrong. We watched for what felt like 5 minutes before he reached around blindly for his coffee cup, and discovered the emptiness. His facial expression was priceless. After several minutes of blustering, and threats, and finally promising not to punish those responsible, he convinced some to divulge the location of his classroom. Some of us "model Students" volunteered to go carry it back for him.
This was not the end of our stunts with poor Mr. B, but it was definitely the grandest. He may not have felt it at the time, but you know, we all liked Mr. B. We learned much about English Lit., and we had some great times, but mainly we learned that life doesn't have to be fair to be enjoyable. Sometimes the blatant unfairness of life leads to some of life's silliest, and fondest memories.
I know, I should have been grading tests or something, but it wasn't as much fun.
I had been reading some things another teacher had posted outside their classroom, and it reminded me of my own high school days. Civics class had written up their idea of a student's bill or rights. It was enlightening to see the ironic combination of ideas that included total personal freedom, and no personal responsibility, while adding the very tricky concept of "universal care-giving".
I guess we were all kind of idealistic in our younger years, and we didn't always see (sometimes by choice), that the great ideas we fought for were extremely impractical, if not downright impossible, save for a totalitarian, yet benevolent governing body, and a purely selfless society. HA! Too many greedy and power-hungry people involved!
Thinking about zealous youth, I had promised elsewhere, that I would tell the story of stealing a classroom. Before I begin, however, I have to include a disclaimer.
Please repeat after me, and then have a witness sign an affidavit to the following:
" I hereby acknowledge that the following account, although true, is in no way meant to encourage me to try such behavior, and I furthermore acknowledge that any such attempt is in no way a reflection of Scott Wahlquist's (hereafter known as "Herr") negative influence on my teenage zeal to make all things right and equal and "FAIR" in the world, regardless of their apparent propriety or even 'legality' .
"I also hereby agree that I hold "Herr" harmless in the event that I should try such antics, and receive the subsequent penalties I so richly deserve."
"By continuing on in this blog, I agree to the terms set forth in the previous paragraphs."
Now that we have the legalese out of the way, let me set the stage.
Most of the following events took place my senior year in HS, Foothill HS, Bakersfield California, to be exact. ( I had learned so much from my freshman antics). The goal of all our stunts was to drive home the point that double standards for teachers and students were unfair. Oh The irony, huh?
My senior english teacher, Mr Brackley (whom many of you in my family will remember), was a bachelor, probably in his early to mid 30's when I was there. He might have been older, but I don't remember thinking of him as OLD, and definitely anyone over 35 was. (sorry Mom and Dad)
We had tried many times to convince him that we seniors deserved some special treatment. We thought we should be allowed to ignore the rule about food and drink in the classroom. (I guess that came from the fact that we had English right after lunch, and frequently were trying to wolf down the last bite or slurp down the last of our Big G....... oh wait, watch out for unpaid endorsements, right?) we didn't see the harm in finishing our lunch during the first few minutes of class.
Well, Mr. Brackley would have none of it. Yet he always had a cup of coffee, which he refilled out of a thermos at least once during our class. We had already tried curing this habit by dropping Alka S.. (oh watch out, endorsements again) into his coffee cup while our cheerleader friends distracted him (remember my post about love life?) That was great fun, but not the point of this post.
We also felt it unfair how harsh Mr. Brackley was about restroom passes. He actually had the gall to expect us to use the facilities on our own time! Was he aware how hard it was to get to McD, or Taco B and back to school in the short 40 minutes we had for lunch? There was no way to get lunch, get back, find parking and still use the restroom. I mean, come on!? What's 5 more minutes for your favorite seniors?
To add insult, he would usually come open the door for us, let us get started on our assignment, and then disappear down the hall to the restroom!!??!! That just had to stop!
Well, we had an unwitting ally to our evil plan. Our Physics teacher, ....... I just can't come up with a name.... was also well known to do something that was against good judgement, if not school policy. He always left his classroom unlocked and unattended during his planning period. He would go into the inner lab used by the teachers to prepare for class experiments. we determined that we could hold a dance, and he probably would be unaware of it. He was right across the "hall" in the next wing over.
So, one beautiful day, with our plan in place, we waited while Mr. Brackley calmly opened the door to let us in. As one of us watched him disappear down the hallway, the rest of us removed everything from his desk, carted the desk to the physics lab, and then replaced everything on the floor in its proper order, as if the desk had simple fallen into the floor. Even the coffee cup and thermos were in their rightful place. Everything else that moved also went for a walk.
When Mr. Brackley came in, he went to the board and started to write. We were sitting in our places, where our desks should have been, writing as if nothing were wrong. We watched for what felt like 5 minutes before he reached around blindly for his coffee cup, and discovered the emptiness. His facial expression was priceless. After several minutes of blustering, and threats, and finally promising not to punish those responsible, he convinced some to divulge the location of his classroom. Some of us "model Students" volunteered to go carry it back for him.
This was not the end of our stunts with poor Mr. B, but it was definitely the grandest. He may not have felt it at the time, but you know, we all liked Mr. B. We learned much about English Lit., and we had some great times, but mainly we learned that life doesn't have to be fair to be enjoyable. Sometimes the blatant unfairness of life leads to some of life's silliest, and fondest memories.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
It may take me a while to figure this out. I have spent enough years learning how to form a halfway decent paragraph, that it makes me crazy to type one, and then have it all jammed together. If you know what I mean, and how to fix it, please enlighten me. Like I stated in my first post, I am partially computer literate.
Just to drive my point home, I put three hard returns between "literate" and "Just".
Isn't this FUN? trying to re-learn an old skill?
(two more hard returns) I really do love computers. I love to hate them. As a child, computers were some new-fangled, sci-fi gadget that only the government, rich people and a few businesses had. In High school, we only saw a small handful of computers outside of the main office, and those were not available to the students. The year after I graduated high school was the first year students were given access to the new computer lab. I think it had a grand total of 3 computers. Wow!! Look how far we have come.
(two more hard returns) In college, I learned a bit about these new toys, and even went so far as to take a semester course in programming BASIC. It was fun, I learned a lot of things, but the most I ever really accomplished, as I recall, was a program that would draw a figure, and then move it around the screen in random patterns until I hit enter or space bar or something. Then it would "blow-up". I should have been a game programmer. I hear some of them make millions.
My first home computer was probably one of the biggest purchases of my adult life. It was not the top of the line, but you technofiles out there will understand that in 1988, $2,500 would get you a pretty good computer. It had a lightning fast 386 kHz processor, and no RAM, but it had a whopping 40 MB hard drive and 2, COUNT THEM, 2 floppy drives.
I used it for school work, and some games, and wondered on many occasions if it was just a very expensive toy. I probably should have spent more time with Word-perfect and Microsoft word in those early days.
Now, I carry around my neck, a device which is more capable than 6 of that first computer, and I am still generations behind. My portable brain is the best filing system I have. The files are neat, they are compact. I can browse through them in just a matter of seconds, and I don't need to worry about moving floppy discs from one drive to another to move, copy or edit the "papers" I keep in those files.
I love computers.
ps I must have come close to figuring this out, because this one is better. But...... but......but I don't know what it is that I changed! AAARRGGGH!
Just to drive my point home, I put three hard returns between "literate" and "Just".
Isn't this FUN? trying to re-learn an old skill?
(two more hard returns) I really do love computers. I love to hate them. As a child, computers were some new-fangled, sci-fi gadget that only the government, rich people and a few businesses had. In High school, we only saw a small handful of computers outside of the main office, and those were not available to the students. The year after I graduated high school was the first year students were given access to the new computer lab. I think it had a grand total of 3 computers. Wow!! Look how far we have come.
(two more hard returns) In college, I learned a bit about these new toys, and even went so far as to take a semester course in programming BASIC. It was fun, I learned a lot of things, but the most I ever really accomplished, as I recall, was a program that would draw a figure, and then move it around the screen in random patterns until I hit enter or space bar or something. Then it would "blow-up". I should have been a game programmer. I hear some of them make millions.
My first home computer was probably one of the biggest purchases of my adult life. It was not the top of the line, but you technofiles out there will understand that in 1988, $2,500 would get you a pretty good computer. It had a lightning fast 386 kHz processor, and no RAM, but it had a whopping 40 MB hard drive and 2, COUNT THEM, 2 floppy drives.
I used it for school work, and some games, and wondered on many occasions if it was just a very expensive toy. I probably should have spent more time with Word-perfect and Microsoft word in those early days.
Now, I carry around my neck, a device which is more capable than 6 of that first computer, and I am still generations behind. My portable brain is the best filing system I have. The files are neat, they are compact. I can browse through them in just a matter of seconds, and I don't need to worry about moving floppy discs from one drive to another to move, copy or edit the "papers" I keep in those files.
I love computers.
ps I must have come close to figuring this out, because this one is better. But...... but......but I don't know what it is that I changed! AAARRGGGH!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Teenagers!!
Teenagers! You can't stand them, but you're not allowed to shoot them! As a teacher in an American high school, I am daily reminded of this dilemma.
Don't get me wrong, I do actually enjoy spending time with teenagers. They are great entertainment. How any of us survived beyond our teenage years is actually a mystery. I remember my mother saying many times, particularly those times when I was causing some kind of trouble, that I would have children just like me. Well, I have 2-3 dozen! Students, smart, cynical, and full of mischief. Remind me to tell you about stealing a classroom sometime.
Don't get me wrong, I do actually enjoy spending time with teenagers. They are great entertainment. How any of us survived beyond our teenage years is actually a mystery. I remember my mother saying many times, particularly those times when I was causing some kind of trouble, that I would have children just like me. Well, I have 2-3 dozen! Students, smart, cynical, and full of mischief. Remind me to tell you about stealing a classroom sometime.
I don't remember being an overly troublesome child, and I was certainly not the most problematic teenager the world has ever seen, but I must have been doing something wrong for Mom to wish "myself" on me. I was never even intrigued by drugs, and being Mormon, alcohol and smoking were also never an issue in my teen years. I was just shy enough that my "love life" was limited to group activities and the occasional awkward date request, immediately followed by the (now apparent) lame brush off excuse. "I think I'm going to be sick that day." I wasn't so oblivious that I completely missed those, so I didn't do any real dating in high school. Maybe I was aiming too high. Cheerleaders, student body leaders, prize winning scholars, singers, dancers, etc. And strangely enough, many of them were in my circle of friends, and we were always out doing things together, groups of 10-12 or more. Strange huh?
Anyway, I digress........I must have done some stupid things to make my Mom wish such terrible things on me. I remember the one and only time I "ditched" (cut, sloughed, skipped, whatever) a class. I was late for my German class, and the German teacher was a strict "old" lady from East Germany. I thought I would be better off absent than late. I ran around the corner just as the bell rang, so I froze. Hey what do you want?! I was a Freshman!
I sat there for 2 minutes debating in my head what I should do, and then my friends, who were a year ahead of me in German, came out of the door. They were headed to the library to study German. ( can you see it coming? I know, I know, what a rebel!!) I went to the library with my friends, and studied German while ditching my German class!
My Mom picked me up for lunch that day. Didn't usually happen. ??? She asked me how German was going. ....???...... how did she know? Was she psychic? Had she tuned in to my rebellion that morning? I was mortified, stupefied and probably qualified as "stupidfied". I lied.
I said German was great! She asked what I had for homework. I told her some random page number from the book. She asked when it was due. I was sweating bullets. I told her the next day. She said nothing, and took me home for lunch.
When I got back home that afternoon, she reminded me about my German homework, and handed me a small packet of worksheets. To my bewildered expression she explained that Frau Silbermann actually only wanted me to do the first worksheet, but since I was so interested in the textbook pages, I could do them, too, along with the worksheets for the entire week. Oh, and by the way....They're due tomorrow!
Mom, thanks for helping me to see the error of my rebellious ways. I never skipped a class again, and I went on to become that German teacher dealing with dumb freshman stunts. Take the kid who missed class the day of a test. First period, starting at 8 am. That is rough!! Well, we have a legally mandated policy that requires us to give a make-up test if the student has a valid illness. (called in by a parent is enough) Next morning student x shows up, claiming to have been sick in bed, and asks about the test make-up. What's a reformed rebel to do? I asked him how the game went. "What game?"
"The street football game you were in, that had to get out of the road as I drove home from work yesterday afternoon.?
Monday, October 20, 2008
Personal responsibility
Well, here I am again! I have played with the set-up, I have made my first posting, and I am trying to think where I can go today.
As I was thinking about the computerized world we live in, and during a round of frantic grading, my mind was drawn to some conversations I have had with colleagues and parents over the last few years. I may have forgotten to mention, I am a teacher. I have been in the public school for 10 of the last 15 years. I started teaching German in American Fork, Utah. I love the German language and culture, and I really do enjoy sharing that love with my students. I taught in Utah for 7 years. I moved to Arkansas, and walked away from teaching for a while. (Another long story for another time.)
I took a 5+ year break when several things lined up to create a life change. One of them is the most significant thing I want to mention today. That is responsibilty.
I had reached a point in those years that the internal politics in school, and the atmosphere and attitude outside of school were making the teaching less enjoyable. Teachers around the country are scrambling to keep up with an ever growing volume of new regulations and requirements. We are all required to keep ourselves on the cutting edge of our profession. This is a good thing. We are falling behind as a nation, when compared with the success of other nations' students. But I have to say that we can require our teachers to all earn Doctoral degrees in their respective fields, and it will change very little in our success rankings, until we change some major things in our society.
We as a country have fallen into an ever-present attitude of "it's not my fault, it's not my responsibility". Just look around you for evidence of this. We injure ourselves doing something completely stupid, and we want to blame anyone but ourselves. We run through the house with scissors, fall and get stabbed, and we want to blame the manufacturer, because they didn't make the label big enough that said, "Hey stupid, don't run with scissors, you might get stabbed if you fall!!" We see report after report of criminals who get injured committing their crimes, and they succeed in suing the homeowner who is now double victim of the crime. We allow our students to get by with the least effort possible, because we are uncomfortable holding back students who haven't mastered the curriculum. Teachers can only do so much here, withour direct parental involvment.
We answer to the lowest common denominator in our schools, and wonder why we don't seem to be achieving more. ????????
We have tried for so many years to make everyone equal, that we are slowly succeeding in making everyone mediocre. When this comment makes you uncomfortable, consider this: Was your first response to wonder what the Government can do to fix this? What the educational system should do to fix it? How our teachers should change this system?
Then you are not alone. If there is a problem, but it is not our fault, it is not up to us to solve it, right? As evidenced by our growing Federal and state level programs to make everyone equal; financially, educationally, socially, etc., we have many who would like everything to be the Big Brother's responsibility.
The only way we can change this in our society, is for parents, teachers, preachers, mentors, friends, family, et al to recreate a worldview where we each have to make our own way, and we believe anything is possible. Hard work and perseverance will be rewarded with a feeling of accomplishment, and that is more important than "rewards", but the rewards will also be there.
Let's bring this country back to it's powerful roots! We can accomplish anything we set our minds to, but not if we expect someone else (particularly government) to get it done for us.
THAT'S THE CHANGE WE NEED!!
As I was thinking about the computerized world we live in, and during a round of frantic grading, my mind was drawn to some conversations I have had with colleagues and parents over the last few years. I may have forgotten to mention, I am a teacher. I have been in the public school for 10 of the last 15 years. I started teaching German in American Fork, Utah. I love the German language and culture, and I really do enjoy sharing that love with my students. I taught in Utah for 7 years. I moved to Arkansas, and walked away from teaching for a while. (Another long story for another time.)
I took a 5+ year break when several things lined up to create a life change. One of them is the most significant thing I want to mention today. That is responsibilty.
I had reached a point in those years that the internal politics in school, and the atmosphere and attitude outside of school were making the teaching less enjoyable. Teachers around the country are scrambling to keep up with an ever growing volume of new regulations and requirements. We are all required to keep ourselves on the cutting edge of our profession. This is a good thing. We are falling behind as a nation, when compared with the success of other nations' students. But I have to say that we can require our teachers to all earn Doctoral degrees in their respective fields, and it will change very little in our success rankings, until we change some major things in our society.
We as a country have fallen into an ever-present attitude of "it's not my fault, it's not my responsibility". Just look around you for evidence of this. We injure ourselves doing something completely stupid, and we want to blame anyone but ourselves. We run through the house with scissors, fall and get stabbed, and we want to blame the manufacturer, because they didn't make the label big enough that said, "Hey stupid, don't run with scissors, you might get stabbed if you fall!!" We see report after report of criminals who get injured committing their crimes, and they succeed in suing the homeowner who is now double victim of the crime. We allow our students to get by with the least effort possible, because we are uncomfortable holding back students who haven't mastered the curriculum. Teachers can only do so much here, withour direct parental involvment.
We answer to the lowest common denominator in our schools, and wonder why we don't seem to be achieving more. ????????
We have tried for so many years to make everyone equal, that we are slowly succeeding in making everyone mediocre. When this comment makes you uncomfortable, consider this: Was your first response to wonder what the Government can do to fix this? What the educational system should do to fix it? How our teachers should change this system?
Then you are not alone. If there is a problem, but it is not our fault, it is not up to us to solve it, right? As evidenced by our growing Federal and state level programs to make everyone equal; financially, educationally, socially, etc., we have many who would like everything to be the Big Brother's responsibility.
The only way we can change this in our society, is for parents, teachers, preachers, mentors, friends, family, et al to recreate a worldview where we each have to make our own way, and we believe anything is possible. Hard work and perseverance will be rewarded with a feeling of accomplishment, and that is more important than "rewards", but the rewards will also be there.
Let's bring this country back to it's powerful roots! We can accomplish anything we set our minds to, but not if we expect someone else (particularly government) to get it done for us.
THAT'S THE CHANGE WE NEED!!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Greetings! Here I am, doing something I never would have predicted.
I am setting up a Blog! I have never considered myself computer illiterate, but I have likewise never been truly computer saavy. I love to hate computers, like so many of you. They can be the greatest tool, and sometimes a wondeful toy, but much of the time they are just the greatest aggravation in my life.
I have usually been one or two "versions" behind the latest advances, but not so far that I still use a Commodore 64, for those of you who even remember those.
I recently ( being about 3 hours ago) came back from a family get together out in California, where we celebrated my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. There had been much discussion about the prospects of blogging being a way for a widespread family tree to keep in contact with each other.
As I went through the steps to set this up, I had to come up with my Blog title, and it occured to me. I am the 5th of 9 children (perfect middle), married to the 2nd of 3, we have both crossed into "middle age", (hopefully not as bad as the "Middle Ages"), and we currently live pretty close to the middle of this great country.
So, welcome to musings from the middle.
I am setting up a Blog! I have never considered myself computer illiterate, but I have likewise never been truly computer saavy. I love to hate computers, like so many of you. They can be the greatest tool, and sometimes a wondeful toy, but much of the time they are just the greatest aggravation in my life.
I have usually been one or two "versions" behind the latest advances, but not so far that I still use a Commodore 64, for those of you who even remember those.
I recently ( being about 3 hours ago) came back from a family get together out in California, where we celebrated my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. There had been much discussion about the prospects of blogging being a way for a widespread family tree to keep in contact with each other.
As I went through the steps to set this up, I had to come up with my Blog title, and it occured to me. I am the 5th of 9 children (perfect middle), married to the 2nd of 3, we have both crossed into "middle age", (hopefully not as bad as the "Middle Ages"), and we currently live pretty close to the middle of this great country.
So, welcome to musings from the middle.
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