Teachers

At Back-to-School-Night, we meet Keaton's teachers: Mr. Davis(the P.E. drill sargeant from Hell), Mrs. Rannis (the second generation Los Osos math teacher), Ms. Visconti (who Kellan hated, and I loved as she is an extremely differential teacher, who greatly challenges her students, and as my husband said If I were teaching English, I would be exactly like her. ), Mrs. Fox (the small birdlike Spanish teacher), and Mrs. Koulkol (the highly quirky and somewhat ADD science teacher).

Knowing all of them (except P.E.), were handpicked by Keaton's counselor for him, gave me some peace of mind. However, when we got to science I wondered if this teacher was going to work. Keaton needs a teacher who is logical and organized in their approach, and Mrs. Koulkol looked scattered as she stammered her way through the presentation. Then, she pulled up the projector screen and in the front and center of her board was a huge poster that stated "If a child cannot learn how we teach, then why don't we teach how they learn." My worry instantly lessened, as this is one of my favorite quotes and, I believe, one that if followed would revolutionize the school system and allow all children to reach their full potential. As she explained the quote, you could tell her passion and knowledge of how this needed to occur, and knew she would be a good teacher for Keaton.

Six weeks later, as Keaton and I were discussing biology he brings up that his teacher has this great quote in her classroom "If a child cannot learn...," and that she often discusses different learning styles and has different ways for kids to do the same work, according to what works for them. He confides that he really likes this quote, and what it represents, and then he asks me to discuss the kind of learner he is and how it affects his learning.

Now, I know that having her as a teacher is priceless. Thank you, Mrs. Koulkol, for reaching my child in a way that I could not, and for allowing him to be proud of who he is and his amazing uniqueness.

A Chain of Kindness

One evening, during out stay in Alaska, I met an older couple in the elevator. We both were trying to navigate the complexities of the resort and began to laugh, as it turned into a game of Russian Roulette, trying to find the corresponding floors, to our corresponding needs.

We parted ways, but soon afterward they walked into the overcrowded bar looking for a place to eat dinner. No seats were available and so Kevin and I asked them to sit with us. Quickly, we learned that Joe, who reminded me of my father, and was the same age as he would have been, 87, had also served in WWII. He was a retired financial advisor, who spent his retirement trying to eradicate illiteracy in his southern community, something I greatly admired. He also had a penchant for small whiskey distilleries, as does my oldest son, and so a great discussion ensued over their favorites. Others around us began to contribute and soon it was a fun game of name that whiskey, that left everyone laughing.

His wife, Marilyn, was a retired nurse, who spoke glowingly about their children, their home, and the fact that every year they picked a new spot to explore on their vacation, this year it was an Alaskan cruise. It soon became apparent that she also had great responsibility in helping Joe, as dementia hidden beneath the surface began to rise. As he repeated the same questions and introduced himself again, I smiled and responded by once again introducing myself. She smiled in thanks at me, and I saw the sadness in her eyes. I realized this was her reality and she had accepted him for who he was, a great reminder that marriage is a lifelong commitment.

When their food arrived, we excused ourselves so they could eat. As we left, my hubby, who is the kindest and most generous man I know, asked the waitress for their bill and paid it, with a stipulation that they not know who their benefactor was.

Several nights later, we stopped in for a quick dinner and happened to have the same waitress. She couldn't wait to tell us that Joe and Marilyn were so surprised over their gift, but also wanted us to know we had started a chain of kindness. Joe and Marilyn had ordered coffee and dessert, which was not included in what we had already paid, but another patron who had overheard Kevin, generously added it to his bill, again without them knowing who it was from.

As we got up to leave the waitress handed Kevin a box with a dessert he had been contemplating and then decided against. She told him that this was not paying it forward, as she would do that in the near future to someone who was not expecting it, but that this was a thank you for starting the chain and giving her such an amazing gift as seeing it unfold. Thus the chain came full circle as Kevin was given a gift greater, gratitude, than he had given. Isn't that what it's all about?

A Birthday Wish From a Big Brother.

These are the words that Kellan placed on Keaton's Facebook page for his birthday, they warm my heart and give me hope that far into the future they will still have each other's backs.




Well, before the day is over; HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE MAN! the past 15 years have been quite rough but we made it through it all! now that im done talking about dad I just wanted to say that its awesome having you as my little bro. Wouldn't want any one else as mine because, to be honest, i wouldn't have learned nearly as much as i have from you. Learning about myself and how I interact with others. I know your influence on me is just a start, and a small part of your life, but I'm glad to be a part of it and can't wait for what the future holds. Love ya little man and Happy Birthday! -- Your favorite brother, Kellan ;)

My blog is a journal full of memories I want to keep. However, I have been lax in keeping it up to date. Unfortunately, I find Instagram easier and quicker to navigate......so, I am entering some moments I want to keep and then hope to take the time to enter these small, but meaningful moments as they come. 21 years ago today I woke Kev up at 1 am in full blown labor, it was time to go. He proceeded to take a shower and shave, then we had to stop for gas and $ at the ATM where he promptly forgot his PIN.And that was the best part of the birth experience, but at 6:02 am I received the most amazing gift of a son. A gift that has grown exponentially and I am thrilled that I also call him friend. Happy 21rst Birthday Kellan. I am also so grateful for friends such as Rachel who planned a great birthday for him, including a designated driver, and buying him his first drink at midnight.

Passing on my life lessons. (Draft from 2013)

Today as I headed out the door, I grabbed my phone and saw three missed calls along with two messages. The first stated "You suck at the communication thing mom", the second "Really, just pick up your phone." All sent from my oldest son Kellan. I reentered the door and sat down for what I could tell would be a long conversation.

I reached him, sitting in his car, and from the sound of his voice I could picture the isolation and desperation he was feeling. Turns out he and his roommate had a combined project in engineering that was due this morning. He had worked all night, but still had not succeeded in making it work. He started off giving me all the reasons that success was elusive. 1. The instructor changed the criteria on them half way through and they had to "reinvent the wheel" 2. The same teacher had three major projects due the same week. 3. The tool room to fabricate the project was packed and so instead of using the professional die machines, he decided to make it using the tools he had at home. 4. His roommate didn't start his part of the project until last night............ I commiserated with him, for I really felt his pain, but wanted him to work through it so he could connect to what was causing this feeling of failure that radiated from him.

First we discussed that as an "outside the box thinker" Kellan is extremely creative; sometimes his unique ideas work, and sometimes they do not. When I asked if this could be the issue he stated, No, that it was a tried and true idea and should have worked. I brought up that as an engineer he would need to work with others to create something new and that group projects in college were, in large part, trying to teach him how to work as a team, and as an individual with a strong opinion of what should happen he may have taken on too much without including his partner. He agreed that he can be known to want things "his" way, but that was not the biggest issue. They had split the project with one doing the written work and the other the model building. As we progressed along with this question and answer session I got closer to what I felt was the main problem, so I shared with him stories of when I felt similar, such as in high school when Tracey Sang and I were assigned as team mates on a big project. She finished a week before the due date, while I waited, as usual, and handed her my pages (ah BI, before internet) minutes before it was due. I felt terrible about myself, but couldn't figure out why as I was doing what I always do. We also talked about how he and I share a perfectionism gene, something I have learned stops me from investing myself in things I worry I might fail, or stops me from completing projects but they are just south of perfect. Having finally believed I had arrived at the true issue I asked him are you mad that the project didn't turn out, or mad at yourself for procrastinating and letting your friend down? 

Of course it was an easy choice, it was himself he was mad at. Embarrassed that he had let his friend down (he actually had his roommate take the project in today and skipped class because, although he didn't realize it at the time, he was too embarrassed to turn in a failure. I tried to tell him that it is a life lesson, although I didn't change with my Tracey Sang incident, it made me aware of what I had done, and I tried to do better in the future. Today I do try to begin way in advance and get a project done early, but I still procrastinate to some degree and fear is my biggest enemy. I impressed on him that I do not want these issues to stop him from becoming the most amazing person he can be.

I suggested we figure out some steps he needs to take. First he needs to find his roommate and apologize, not just for letting him down, but also for leaving him holding the ball. He needs to tell him that in the future he will try to do better and ask him not to give up on him. I shared with him that recently his brother was in a similar predicament, although on the other side, Keaton had picked someone as a partner he thought would get the job done, but during the process he realize this person might not fulfill his part. So Keaton had taken on the responsibility of the whole project and his friendship with the other had suffered as respect was lost, Kellan would have to earn that respect back. We also discussed that even though he was getting better at organizing when his work is due, we may need to help him create a system that blocks off periods of time for each assignment and break the large assignments into smaller components......something that I realize now he has not learned because he never needed it due to the fact that he skated through high school. 

Our conversation ended with him still feeling like crap about himself, but with an understanding about why he felt like he did and a plan to work on for the future. As I thought about our "lesson" I realized how alike we are in so many ways and that some lessons that were painful for me to learn, serve an even higher purpose in that by understanding my failures, I can impart that knowledge to Kellan.............now I can only hope he learns from it the first time.

Heavenly Math

It has been awhile since I have posted, but I have had trouble being passionate enough about something to write about it, but then, while cleaning out my studio, I came across my college portfolio. It flipped open to a essay I wrote in a math class for teachers, about four years ago.......it was suppose to show us that math is important because we use it daily without even realizing it. It is not my normal style of writing, but I remember how it popped in my head the instant the teacher assigned it and how fun it was to write. I was also reminded, from the written remarks of the teacher, who was a high school principal, that he enjoyed it so much he shared it at the monthly principals meeting in his district. It motivated me to start some drafts of other essays and to get back in the process of writing for the joy of it.

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There once was a boy named John who loved math. He equated everything in life, from the lamp posts that looked like number sevens, to the geese that flew in triangular formation over his house in the fall, into mathematical equations. For fun, John solved the hardest mathematical problems he could find and when he found himself stumped by an especially difficult one, he would go to bed early knowing that the answer would come to him in his mathematical dreams.

Then one day, while John was attending the mathematical university that he had always yearned of, a tragic accident occurred. Train A, with his mother aboard, left the station at 12:00 PM and was going at a speed of 80 MPR, Train B, carrying his father, left the opposite station at 1:00 PM going 60 MPR, but instead of passing each other at point X, the track operator made a huge mathematical blunder by solving instead for point Y, the trains collided, killing everyone on board.

John could not understand how something like math, that had brought him such great joy throughout his life, could become so completely devastating. From that point on, John tried to erase math from his life. He decided he had to leave college, because math was no longer a friend but a deadly enemy. He had to quit his job, because he could no longer live by the clock with its numbers taunting him. Telephones and computers were cast out from his life because they were created and run by math related technology. Plus there was no need to work because money and its mathematical addition, subtraction, percentages, etc, were a a constant reminder of his tragic loss. He had to leave his house when he realized that the engineering and architecture used in creating it was all mathematical in origin. He could not even eat a pie because no matter how you cut it, it involved fractional math.

He moved to the country away from all humans to live in a land free of math. However, when he got there he realized he had made a big mistake, for math was everywhere in the wild of nature. It existed in the number of offspring each species had in relation to what the land could support and also in the changing of the seasons, from fall to winter to spring to summer, that could be evaluated using mathematical equations. As he hunted with a bow and arrow he realized the physics involved in its use and threw it down in disgust. He dug himself a hole that was neither square, no round, nor octagon, and crawled inside waiting to die.

When he reached heaven he was welcomed by St. Peter, who led him directly to God.

“I have been waiting for you.” said God, “I have seen you suffer terribly during your life time and now it is time for you to have peace. Let me show you the difference between your life on earth and your life in heaven.”

With that God placed before him a diagram of John’s earthly life.
Birth *------------------------------------* Death

John began to cry hysterically when he realized that although he had avoided math during his whole life, in death, his life could be summed up in one of the simplest of mathematical phrases, a line segment.

God however, mistook John’s grief for pain in having wasted his life, and He tried to bring him joy by showing him that from this point forward, John would have eternal life in heaven. But when God laid John’s future before him, Johns sorrow deepened for what he saw was only a mathematical ray.
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The moral of this story is that math is everywhere, even in Heaven :)

An Ache in the Middle of an Amazing Moment

Two summers ago while in Mexico we met, through friends, two woman who enhanced my life. A mother and daughter whose bond was ethereal, a true gift from God.

The mother, who had been fighting lung cancer, taught me to step outside my comfort zone. She confided in me that usually she would not have come alone with her daughter or done many of the things she did that week, if it had not been for her need to create memories with her. She stated that no longer was the idea of getting on a jet ski scary or embarrassing, because her figure was far from perfect or because of the many scars and loss of hair from brain surgery, but instead was a moment to live, to feel the wind against her face, to feel joy.

Her daughter and only child taught me that the bond between child and mother is so strong and powerful. Seeing them together, I truly believe that the love she had for her mother is what kept her alive far past her time.

Love won the battle, but unfortunately lost the war as that next Thanksgiving Day, in a true twist of irony, or perhaps fate, as all were to sit down for a dinner, her mother went quickly, called by a higher power to a place free of pain.

Unfortunately, here, pain still lingers, and on Instagram this morning her daughter posted a graduation picture of herself in front of her sorority at USC. An amazing person in all areas, culturally, socially, academically, and with a graduation gown embellished with the highest honors a student from one of the most prestigious schools ever, she is so accomplished for someone her age.. But the comment she had placed underneath simply stated "I hope you are proud of me Momma."

As a mother myself and as someone who has become a better person for knowing her mother, this brought tears to my eyes. and although I can state emphatically and with true certainty that there is no one prouder, in this world and the next, then her mother is of her......I cannot change the true issue, that her mother is not here to say it herself.