The art of presence... jellybeans?

My summers are so different from most the other adults in my world. I go from constant lesson planning, grading, directing, editing, etc. into a world where I am simply living in the moment. My kids can say, "hey mom, let's go to a movie" and I can! During the school year, even on weekends, I am almost always preoccupied by what I "should be" doing rather than what I am doing. I make sure to spend time with my family, but I am often concerned about the pile of grading sitting on the kitchen table.

I wonder how often we spend time doing important things like playing with our kids, or talking with our spouses or enjoying time with friends and yet not really be mentally present... it is a problem I know I have... and I'm guessing I'm not the only one. Buddhism seems to speak to this- the idea of being present- seems like an obvious and simple idea, but how often are we completely present? Even now... as I type this, my attention is being pulled left and right by a partial conversation with a daughter, jellybeans, the errands I have to run this afternoon, the company coming in tomorrow, the yard that desperately needs work... for goodness sake, I'm writing about the importance of having presence of mind, and I can't stay focused! Ironic. No. Maybe just sad.

Okay... next goal for this summer: presence of mind. Just do it.

Fathers' Threads

Father's day is tomorrow. I don't know about the rest of you, but I've had many "father" figures in my life, and as much of a Hallmark holiday as this event can be, it has me reflecting on the need for fathers.

My dad meant well, but wasn't around much for my childhood. I learned about hard work from him however. Still, we learn from people the things we are ready to learn when someone who can teach us is ready to teach. I learned how to accept people and all their quirks from my brother Michael. I always think of him on Father's day, and somehow feel he should be honored that day too. I learned from my Grandfather how to be silly- how to never let the inner child be put to rest by the serious adult- I can picture him at the age of 80, standing up in the back of my Suzuki Samuri, holding the roll bar and screaming at me to drive faster... I miss him. My Papa taught me what unconditional love looked like. So many men have given me parts of understanding, knowledge of the world and of myself. I guess this is my shout out to all of them... for better or worse, they've contributed to my journey.

We all do though, don't we? Whether the influence is positive or negative... whether we come away wishing to emulate a mentor or choose an opposite path, we've been effected. I don't think I remember that often enough. Each of us is part of the threads that make up the lives of others... kind of powerful.

So... thank you to: Dad, Grandpa, Papa, Michael, Uncle Greg, Mark, Robert, Chuck, Jim, Scott, David, Richie, Dan, Howard, Bill, Curley, John, Jeff, Gordon, Gary, Mike, Tom, Ken, Steven, Shaun, Derk, Joe, Josh... but most of all, thank you Rob... Happy Father's day... to everyone who is a father, or has taught what a father should teach...You've helped dragonflies learn to ride the breeze.

The Graduation Speech... 2010

I was simply unsure how to begin this speech. In the 3 years I’ve known this group of students, I’ve never quite found the words to describe them… or explain them… I figured I could talk about the inspiration I feel each time I hear Chrystian Johnson speak of the future, or the sheer impressive nature of Emily Kocsis’s art work and how it makes me believe in creative power. I could speak of James Fimbres’s unique academic excellence or the courageous friendship of Alex Updegraff and Simone Brech. I thought I might be able to get up here and tell you something incredibly practical like, “WEAR SUNSCREEN!” Or more poignant, like “treat others as you’d like to be treated.” Or “You must create your own happiness- don’t wait for someone else to give it to you.” Then I recalled all the good advice teachers have given you such as: use graphic organizers! Shut up and do the work! And of course, “abstinence is the best policy!” I threw these ideas out as somewhat cliché. I moved onto the idea I’d highlight your accomplishments- athletic record holders, AP literature testers, equestrian and carpentry medalists… but those folks have been honored in one way or another… I wanted this speech to be what you, the graduates, wanted it to be. When I asked you, I was told to tell the truth up here…you said this knowing I wouldn’t take you up on it… knowing that what happens in Sophomore English, stays in Sophomore English… so I decided to let the graduates help me write this… their last group assignment… and they did. Each of them was allowed to give me a word to add to the speech… each the opportunity to hear his or her word as part of the momentous day. And to let our audience in on our fun, I’d like the graduates to raise their hands when they hear their words. So listen carefully… we will get this speech done together.
So, I ain’t going to tell you a true story; it also won’t begin with a rough struggle, magical love, slothful debauchery or a Studebaker disaster. I won’t use onomatopoeia in the writing of it, or country music wafting through the background as I tell it. It won’t focus on just a few like Cole Watson, Tom Cermak, Marvin or even Dog the Bounty Hunter “ya kna wat I mean?” My story is about a rabble of Rogue River students- ridonculous in many ways… who moved beyond their cadywhompus, and bazinga behaviors into a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious level of existence. Their individual worlds had always been exceptional, but as a group of partying swamp buddies, they tended to be regarded as thugs.
They preferred a nine-year-old childhood where pretending to be a fox was a bodacious activity; Captain Crunch, Philly cheese and jellybeans were a more-than-reasonable breakfast to be masticated with delight, and wherein the lollipop flavors of Mike and Ike were a veritable cornucopia. They knew their habits were somewhat self-indulgent, and generally unhealthy, but the call of kumquats, sweet grapes and dictionaries went unheard.
Eventually they graduated, yelled “chyeah!” left their cuddlerainbowbluebrainbuddies behind, finally matured, became working citizens, educated students, hubbys, wifeys and eventually parents. They forgot games of Mermaids, Dragons and Unicorns and instead shopped for hammers, diapers and antiseptic while sipping on their chai teas. They laughed as they powdered babylegs and deciphered the babble of a 2 year old proclaiming, “nada near nada nada”… and one day they watched as their beautiful children became the teenagers they once were… they were proud of the hard won B- the son had earned in Spanish with his 81%, and they went to Ray’s Food Place to buy Frankenberries to celebrate. They remembered their own teen years and the solidarity that existed among their graduating class. They wondered when they’d stopped laughing at words like flibbertigibbet, mobbin’, charving and hillbilly. They grinned as they remembered torturing their sophomore English teacher during 7th period with a nice round of “hide the backpack from the guy in front of you.” And suddenly they realized they’d come full circle. As a group, they were difficult for their teachers to write speeches about, but as individuals they were amazingly terrific, and they’d found their place in the world.
No matter what, RRHS graduates of 2010, you all must know that your community, teachers, parents and friends believe in you because we are still here supporting you. Still here believing in you, and absolutely sure that you will each make lives we will all be proud of. So this speech will officially be the last assignment you do together. In writing it, I have found myself quite sentimental about your leaving… yes, believe it or not, you will be missed. Yes, you’ve made your mark on RRHS. Oh, and before I leave, there is one more word submitted I couldn’t figure how to fit in the speech… especially since it comes with movement… so…here goes…
Kamahameha!

Just because I am listening, doesn't mean I hear...

Life is busy. And messy. And emotional. But life is fundamentally good... I've been off of this blog the last 3 weeks for two main reasons: I am a high school English teacher, and it is the end of the year, and our computer died... not a normal computer death, but something that resembled computer plague... it was a quick, ugly and complete death. I'm typing this on our new laptop, and I'm trying to get used to the feel of it. I like the compact nature of it, but somehow I miss the substance of the machine that was.

Graduation was yesterday, and I always find it interesting that I am suddenly sad to lose the kids the moment their caps are thrown in the air. I never feel the sense of loss until it is in my face... too busy I guess. This group was entering the building as freshmen only about 5 minutes ago. Halli will be graduating day after tomorrow at this rate. This group asked me to be the speaker at their ceremony. Can I tell you how much I do not enjoy speaking to massive crowds? I struggled for weeks with what to say, and eventually forced each senior to give me a word to include in the speech. I wove 70+ words into the final product. What was interesting was how much I learned in the process. As a teacher, I'm used to hearing and seeing my words in their work. I know I am listened to because they want to pass their class. I was fundamentally amazed to see their reactions to my speech. They were really surprised to hear their words. They were almost tickled at the idea I'd not only listened to them, but that they were included. And suddenly I remembered how strange it was as a teen to have a conversation with any adult who seemed to value what I had to say. My mom was great at it- but almost all the other adults in my memory would smile at me and nod their heads at whatever I espoused with a blank look in their eyes. I wonder how important it is for us, as humans to be heard... to be valued in a way that our ideas and thoughts are valid enough to be really listened to? I started to ask myself how often I truly listen... to everyone... the 10 year old under my roof... the 90 year old at Thanksgiving dinner... how often do I free myself from my own ideas long enough to fully wrap my brain around someone else's ideas?

New goal... learn to listen... I thought I did, but I think I might just "look" like I listen- just because you are listening doesn't mean you hear. I guess it is time to make sure I am hearing.

Summer is almost here... I'm sure there will be many more posts to torture you all with...