The Joys and Lessons of Patience

 We have reached the age of sibling squabbles. Mature interested parties who have already made great investments into their posterity, as well as those parties who took part in such squabbles, will remember this age of “I am right” accompanied by creative tones of voice and actions that demonstrate little patience and toleration for each other. With occasional moments of shock (“They’re already that big?”) along with humble gratitude and amazement for the blessing of parenthood as we watch our children grow up, we parents of these beautiful children occasionally have to tackle this new stage with various degrees of hit or miss. Luckily, I know the love they have for each other as this is also demonstrated in various ways which is sweet and encouraging to see. As I watch my children, I am often reminded of my own days growing up with my cousins and our many adventurous bonding experiences together throughout the years. One story from Aunt Patience comes to mind.

Aunt Patience is a fine woman from whom came many lessons. Her children and I were lucky enough to grow up together, and, as children will do, we often had our typical childish fights— who had the best treat, who got the special seat in the car, and, basically, who had the best and most of anything. As their almost daily playtime companion, I was used to these odd and, yes, silly squabbles and I admit to taking part in my share of them. As silly as many of these squabbles were, they were serious to at least one involved party at the time, and I was not always surprised by what would set someone off. Aunt Patience would try to make us see logic, but as children, logic is different for us than it is for adults, and we simply didn’t understand why adults couldn’t see the importance of our argument and the fact that we were right. Faced with us stubborn children (we all shared the same genes, after all), Aunt Patience did her best to referee, squelch, or simply ride out each fight to the end, smoothing any hurt feelings or egos as necessary.

When I was older, Aunt Patience told me of an experience that she knew I could relate to that happened when she and her children were giving a friend a ride home one day. Not being used to their rivalries, their friend was at a loss as to how to react when she uncomfortably found herself between the siblings when their fight started. Each was complaining that the other one was hogging all of the room in the back seat, and each argued that they had less room on their side of the car than the other. They discussed measurements using the universal and indisputable method of child measurement: they would measure their space with one hand against the door and the other against their leg, then carefully, so as not to disturb the measurement, they would hold up their hands to show each other exactly how much space was between those two hands. Every millimeter counted. (Admit it, you did this, too!) This would prove that the other sibling had far more space available on their side of the car, and should move over so other people could be more comfortable. Meanwhile, their friend simply sat between them in quiet surprise. They may or may not have been fighting for her right to space (it’s perfectly logical to justify your indignation when you claim to be fighting for someone else: “She needs more space! You’re hogging!”). Aunt Patience admirably kept her hands on the wheel and her eyes on the road while trying to convince her children that the seats were made equally and they each had the same amount of space. Nonsense. She then watched in amazement as her children proceeded to change places in the back seat, climbing over their friend in the middle, determined to prove to the other that more space was available on their siblings’ side of the car. Declarations such as, “Oh, you have TONS of room over here!” and appropriate roomy wigglings were made before they switched their seats back. I had witnessed, and been part of, incidents like this before and laughed as I could easily picture this incident, and myself part of it either taking sides or trying to be non-judgmental (admit it—as children, one’s attitude depends on the day).

Looking back at my lucky time with Aunt Patience and her children, I realize that I was getting quite an education both in childhood and in parenting. Mothers earn their educational degrees in many fields through daily hands-on learning, luck, imagination, and a unique instruction book pasted together from whatever notes they’ve managed to accrue from the many moms in their lives. Aunt Patience greatly deserves her name, and my great gratitude, for letting us be children and loving us wholeheartedly for it.

We’re often told that we’ll laugh at unpleasant, embarrassing, or awkward incidents at later times in our lives. Admit it, we all have many. While dear Aunt Patience recounted this story, I was wiping away tears of laughter and understanding, reliving wonderful moments of my childhood with the people I loved . . . and hopefully her wonderful now-grown children, who I love dearly and forever hold deep gratitude for, are laughing as well.

 

Listen to the Music

As will often happen in our house, der Meister and I were recently discussing music. Our conversation came about because of a Father’s Day book I presented to der Meister entitled This is Your Brain on Music. Conversations of this sort usually take a variety of turns, this time covering, among other things, the skill of various music artists, the production value of various songs, and the reason for the various knobs and buttons on your music system.

Music is amazing. It makes those tiny goose pimples rush up and down our arms and up to our hair because the music or voice just did something so glorious that it makes our indescribable emotions want to pop out of our skin. It takes us back to our childhood of playrooms and make-shift stages, junior high school bus rides, and road trips. It warns us that a movie is taking a menacing turn and makes our children hide their eyes and cower in our shoulders. It makes our feet dance, sets the mood with a few choice notes, and conjures up entire story lines based on what we’re hearing. Music means something to us, often certain songs specifically. With this is mind, as part of an autobiographical project, I had my students create a playlist of ten songs that they felt represented them, with an explanation of why that song was chosen. This was cool because as the lists came in I could unmistakably see my students represented in their playlists and why they chose the songs they did. For the most part, they didn’t just choose songs for shock value or because “it’s cool” (which was against the rules, anyway). The songs meant something to them, reminding them of specific events, people, or moods. 

I tried this for myself wondering what I would come up with. I had made various lists of “favorites” before, but what ten would I choose if they had to represent me? It was hard. As I listened to different songs, I found myself thinking of who each song reminded me of rather than wondering how it represented me. I realized that by reminding me of my loved ones, they did, in a way, represent what mattered in my life, hence they were a part of me.

Both my parents love Bruce Springsteen and depending on the song, either one of them will come to mind. However, while hearing The Boss convince us that we were born to run, I think of my mum and how if she were in a crowded room and that song was in the background, she would belt out “woah!” with the man, with an fist punch to the air, indifferent everyone else around because, hey, “I’m singing with Bruce! Bruuuuuuccce!” After a rough day at school, Bruce and I would rock out together on that long drive home until I was sane and calm again.

As Tom Petty runs down his dream, memories of driving to California come to mind, as does memories of driving with my dad in general. We’d talk about the songs we’d hear on the radio, and on this particular drive he pointed out some of the lyrics from this song. I now know that Tom Petty is cool because he, too, wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh- wonders about Mr. Shannon’s runaway.

While hanging out with some friends when I was younger, we were tapping our feet or clapping against our legs to some music going on in the background. As I tapped along to the music, I noticed my friends glance at me then suddenly announce with disgust, “E, you’re off!” I didn’t know how to explain to them that I was tapping to everything I heard going on in the music, not just the beat. It’s what I heard and what didn’t. (Maybe dancing had something to do with that.) It wasn’t until later that I learned words like syncopation and down beats. Now I can point to Jimi Hendrix during his bought with manic depression, which brought about fantastic rhythms, beats, and sounds, to explain what sometimes goes on in my head when I hear music.

Other artists and songs come to mind, of course, but again, I have to distinguish between what I love and what represents me. One of those could be ELO reminding me to hold tight to my dream, which reminds me of my first year-long job search. Their message also came to mind at the end of this school year, and still pops up recently. Another would be Los Lonely Boys admonishing those nay-sayers and skeptics to leave me alone; I’m gonna do it my way because I believe that miracles happen.

So, I’m curious.

What are some songs you would choose for your playlist?

 

Three . . . Two . . . One . . .

Three days to go and the class of 2009 will be on their way, with their younger classmates moving onward and upward. Throughout the year, I’ve been taught various lessons — or had various epiphanies, depending on how you want to see it — including:

• If you want a student to stay awake in class, feed him (and you find out that something simple like granola bars or fruit snacks go a long way)
• Some kids don’t eat from lunch to lunch, so that package of fruit snacks is most welcome
• Quoting “The Simpsons” impresses the fine youth, and one class gets jealous (and they let you know) when they have not been the recipients of said quotes when another class has
• Students are impressed when you give them an inexpensive, personalized gift that shows them you’ve paid attention and know them more than you let on
• The younger kids are thrilled to get a pad of paper, a pencil, and a sucker because, wow! It’s a present for us!
• You don’t always have to use your allotted funds for paper and pencils (see 1 and 2 above)
• When you have the choice between getting angry and yelling or laughing at someone’s suddenly bizarre, non-dangerous behavior, laugh — it makes you all much happier
• “Dorks,” “Weirdos,” and “Punks,” are safe endearments/exclamations of disbelief — and the kids get to giggle at you (and rightly so) because you use the word “dork”
• Show interest in their music, reading choices, or other activities — because you care about them and this helps them see that, and you just might discover some new music or books that you like because they share their favorites with you
• Some kids will do anything for those ten points of extra credit (even though the 20 point assignment wasn’t that hard or time consuming to begin with), so take advantage of their willingness (clean boards, clean floors, straighten rows of desks, etc.)
• Document everything. Because sometimes the incident you were doing everything to prevent is the very incident that will actually get administrators to act — and you have all of the documentation to prove you had appropriately followed protocol and it is now their turn to respond
• Have a fellow teacher sit in on meetings with administrators regarding above-mentioned incidents — they help you keep your head and can prove you handled yourself professionally
• You can be professional and still have fun with your students
• Be good to the fine ladies in the library and copy center — they help you to no end
• Ditto to the counselors
• And the office staff
• Secretaries (in any of our many office departments) really do know most everything, and all you have to do is ask
• If you’re impressed with a student, let their parent know — both the parent and child like it
• Parents like knowing what’s going on, and the positive messages are a nice relief from the negative ones
• Be the first one to say hello — eventually even those who have avoided eye contact for a while will once again start replying and calling you by name
• Greet your students by name in the hall ALWAYS — it shocks them at first, but then they like it and start talking to you
• High school behavior that occurred when you were in high school just keeps getting passed down through the generations (“I wonder what it would be like to snort this flavored drink mix?” Groan “Pay no attention to what is going on in that corner, kids.” Friend of said “wonderer,” “You guys are [dumbbells].” Don’t we ever learn?)
• Go to the assemblies — watch your kids have fun on stage and off, and you, too, can get “psyched”
• Get your own yearbook and have your students sign it— not only will you have a nice souvenir, but you’ll also get inspiring comments from your fine students such as: “You are my favorite teacher!” “I love your class!” “You are the best teacher I have EVER had!” “I appreciate all your help.” “You stayed very calm even though our class was crazy.” “You are a very tolerant teacher.” “You are a great teacher.” “You made things fun and interesting and not boring!” “You put up with me when others wouldn’t.” “Thank you for your help.” 

And that’s why they — and we — keep coming back. Because we love, thrive on, and live for the fun, crazy insanity!