To Be Known For

Growing up in a town with a population less than the number of students in my middle school building means that everyone knew everyone, for better or for worse. Most folks were just average Joes and Josies, slogging along, doing what needed to be done each day. Almost everyone could be called upon in a time of need, day or night, and help would be rendered with no thought given to personal discomfort or inconvenience. And some folks gained a reputation for a skill or deed of noteworthiness. I am not talking about grandiose, heroic acts such as saving someone from a burning car or rescuing a fisherman who fell through the ice while winter fishing. My memories are of those who excelled at something that would never make it to the nightly news.

Here are a few who come to mind. (Names changed as per my policy.)

Martha. She was a widow who struggled with health issues that made it increasingly difficult for her to get out and about. But, somehow she acquired a laminating machine, a novelty most households certainly did not have at their disposal. Her specialty was laminating homemade bookmarks with inspirational poems written upon them. My mother-in-law gave me one of Martha's bookmarks as a gift many years ago. It is the least flashy bookmark I own but it is one I will not be parting with any time soon. It has a beautiful poem on it entitled, Sparrows. I use it as a place keeper in my Bible and cherish the love Martha put into this lowly piece of paper.

Jim. My brother-in-law was a man of very, very few words. I don't think I heard him speak until many months after my husband and I started dating. I came from a family who barely took a breath while constantly babbling so I found Jim's taciturn ways a bit puzzling. Jim was obviously not known for his gift of gab but he was known far and wide for his hunting and fishing skills. If anyone in the region wanted to know the best way to bag a deer or catch a prize walleye, Jim was the guy to see. He was able to stalk, kill and dress an elk in rugged terrain and successfully drag it out by himself. (I fuss if my grocery bags are too heavy.) After he passed away from cancer, far too soon, sportsmen came from far and wide for the auction of his hunting and fishing equipment. His passion spoke loud and clear to others.

Bernard. He was the man in the know. He and his wife did not have children so his time could be spent in other pursuits. Bernard had a scanner radio and never missed a crackly squawk, day or night. In a time before internet and reliable TVs, Bernard's ability to share the latest happenings gleaned from his radio or from keeping his finger on the pulse of a small town was often a valuable resource. What many folks did not know about him was his unsung, heroic military service during WWII. He shared that information with a select few in his inner circle. Bernard also had a gift for letter writing. He faithfully wrote letters to my uncle after my uncle moved into a veteran's retirement facility many miles away from our hometown. Bernard made sure his friends always stayed connected to their hometown, whether near or far.

Functioning communities are comprised of members allowing their jigsaw puzzle pieces to be used in the big picture. I am grateful for being able to experience many such communities, from work to neighborhoods to small towns. I am afraid my puzzle piece has something to do with incessant chattering. Just snap me next to the piece with a good listener and all should be well.

New Crop

Let's pretend I looked like this as I ran copies on a ditto machine my first year of teaching.

A new crop of 7th-graders arrived at my classroom doorstep a couple of weeks ago. This is my 19th year of greeting 7th-graders and my 29th year of teaching. Some things have changed over the years and other things have stayed the same.

Here are a few changes over the years.

Technology. No surprise on this one. Twenty-nine years ago, I was entering student grades by hand in a big red grade book. Report card time meant dragging out the calculator and entering each grade by hand and finding the average, student by student. I apologize, retroactively, to any student who did not receive the grade they may have deserved. My accounting skills are weak at best. Now, a computer program not only calculates all the grades but it enters them on the report card which is run automatically for all students. I am in calculation heaven.

Copy machines. My first years of teaching involved a ditto machine. A mysterious, albeit fun to sniff, fluid was poured into a machine that looked like a rolling drum. An inky master copy was clipped to the drum and a hand crank was used to spin the drum until the desired copies were made. Master copies were milked to the last drop, often involving a little squinting by the wee ones as the master finally faded away. Today, our copy machines are personal secretaries. They staple, three-hole punch, collate, enlarge, shrink and sing a little tune. I am not really exaggerating much on the last one. Our latest copier can be programmed to make all sorts of sounds, from xylophones to new age, while copying. I will not reveal how much perverse pleasure my department gets from selecting annoying sounds.

Chalkboards. Teachers of days gone by know what it was like to have chalk dust all over our clothes and hands. I had little helpers bang the erasers on the sidewalk occasionally in an attempt to reduce the chalk buildup. Despite our best efforts, chalk continued to float in the air. Now we use dustless markers on whiteboards and stylus pens on our SmartBoards. I can save a computer file with all my lesson information, notes and graphics for as many years as I need them. A fabulous time saver, not to mention my students don't have to decipher my sad handwriting.

As amazing as the changes have been over the years, there are also some things that never change.

Kids. Sure, they now have a fifth appendage called a Smartphone and their communication styles have morphed over the years, but when it is all said and done, kids are kids. They just want to belong and feel valued. Middle schoolers, particularly, don't want to be too different from others. Style is everything and an internal drive is pushing them toward autonomy. Parents, new to the teen scene, shake their heads and wonder what happened to their babies.

Teachers. My mother was a teacher in a one-room schoolhouse over sixty years ago. She often shares stories from those days. No surprise that she faced some of the same struggles as we do today. Unruly students, curriculum challenges, budget constraints and long hours dogged her as well. What hasn't changed is the passion for a career that is more than punching a clock. We love what we do. We love watching kids learn. And we love hanging out with other folks who also believe in the power of education.

Here's to a new crop of kids. May the harvest be bountiful.

Cinema

A few weeks ago I experienced a nasty drug reaction (not a bad meth baggie, just a reaction to a prescribed medication). I will spare you the gory details but suffice it to say, the bathroom floor is an uncomfortable place to sleep. The post reaction time was spent lying on the couch like a flaccid noodle. As a distraction to my woes I watched television. Here are a few things I learned about the world of TV entertainment.

1) Less is more--The first few hours of television time is entertaining. I can hold my own with the kid edition of Jeopardy, thank you very much, Alex. I know how to boil pasta, Rachel Ray. I know that the average house buyer would buy a rat shack as long as it has granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances, House Hunters. I am aware of my complete lack of fashion sense, Stacy and Clinton, I appreciate your tips, even when they are a few years old in the rerun season. That being said, I was at a loss as to what next on the channel selections. Plenty of mind numbing material was gazed upon with a few sparks of interest. Just like drugs, small doses, please.

2) Some things never change-- I watched several old movies on the Turner Classic Movie channel. What struck me was how much hanky panky was going on in many of them. Lots of affairs, love gone bad, murders of passion and wardrobe malfunctions. No wonder so many of them were thin with all that prowling around going on.

3) Commercials are king--The frothy morning shows with women in sheath dresses and suited up men bantering back and forth about what is trending, the latest weather and a smidgen of news are quite popular TV fare. I enjoy some of the segments but become exhausted with the number of commercials. The average two hour show was dotted with at least forty or more minutes of commercials. Often the same ones, ad nauseum. I guess that is why God created DVRs and Netflix.

4) Wolves can be found in sheep's clothing--Frequently, commercials are advertising wonder drugs. Happy people living fabulously fun lives are attracting mates, walking along beaches, playing with grandchildren, eating out with friends and relaxing with cups of steaming coffee after taking the magic pills. All this is followed by the punch line. In hyper speed as the fun people fade out, a list of possible drug reactions is shared.  As someone who has been up close and personal with such side effects, be aware of the wolf at your door.

5) Subtitles can be handy--I am not usually a big fan of reading subtitles during a movie, but at 3:00 in the morning when one's mind simply must be distracted, watching a subtitled movie can help. The subtitles make it easier to turn the sound off and they force the brain to work a little. I watched a few black and white French flicks. Boy howdy, do those people know how to sneak around and commit their crimes of passion. Geniuses, really. No surprise why these movies are running after the kiddies have gone to bed.

Television is a good entertainment option and I will continue to enjoy my share. But like a stick of butter, a pat or two is divine, the whole stick is a bit much.

Enjoy a couple of pats this week.