Tag Archives: teachers

Standing on the shoulders of giants

Last week, my sweetie and I traveled back in time to the college town where we met.  It was just the two of us travelling the almost three hundred miles (one-way) to the North Dakota prairie and home again that day.  We visited the old Mayville State campus, went to the place of our first date, and visited with some dear, dear friends, including the matron of honor from our wedding.

The first thing that struck me was how we were transformed just pulling into town.  It was if we were lighter, remembering who we were before the hardships of life had crossed our paths.  The next thing I noticed was that while much progress has been made, there are some things that hadn’t changed a bit such as the sandwich we ordered on our first date twenty-five years ago is still on the menu.

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But the thing that made the biggest impact on our visit was just how long love and influence last.

I wish, oh how I dearly wish, the reason for the two of us to take off in the middle of the week was because we need to go back and the tickle the roots of our relationship. Yet, sadly that would not be the truth.  Even though reconnecting with one of my college best friends, picking up where we had last left off, was a beautiful moment, the gathering was due to the passing of her dad, who happened to be our physics professor.  Mr. W was also my science education professor.  Considering how I currently hold the same position at a university across the border, to say he was influential in my life would be an understatement.

The gathering was bittersweet.  The reminiscing was incredible as we laughed about so many stories from our days as science majors and all the studying we did to accomplish top marks.  (Or at least the best marks we could.) More on that in a bit.  Yet the ironic sadness of the last two times we have been together were because we lost someone dear (my son and her dad) was not lost on me.

Yet rather than lay low in the valley, I want to remember and in the remembering honor the man who really shaped my future as a science teacher.  Attending a tiny university was one of the best decisions I ever made, and one that I have never regretted.  One of the benefits (of which there were many) was the small class sizes and the opportunity to develop relationships with the professors.

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Mr W was a dandy!  He had a great sense of humor and a penchant for the dramatic at times.  He held incredibly high standards and he never expected we were capable of anything but meeting them.  He also had an understanding of the forward march of education and the jobs we future science teachers would be facing.

Let’s face it. Physics is tough stuff. Mr W always knew that we would encounter a few challenges, and he would answer our questions with a humorous, “Well, what in the cat hair?” Then, he would roll up his sleeves and model his thinking so that we could all understand how to dissect a problem like a physicist. But more importantly, his methods never diminished the struggle and he always made us feel like he was a co-partner in learning.

As for his standards, his was the first class in which I earned a B in college.  But standing firm in his high standards meant that he believed I was capable of so much more than I dreamed and he held me and my classmates accountable to what he saw in each of us.  Of course, I have jokingly shared the story of the physics final where I needed a 42 out of a 40 to earn an A in the course.  His exam was my first real act of rebellion in all my schooling (unless you count the time a handful of classmates and I sang “Let my people go” in the lunchroom when our high school didn’t close with an impending hurricane).  The physics tests were always full of choices (pick a certain number of 2 point multiple choice problems and a certain number of 10 point constructed response problems from a wide sample).  I needed only a 2 out of a 40 for a B.  I walked in answered two multiple choice questions, got up, handed in my test paper, and walked out.  The look on Mr. W’s face was priceless.  It wasn’t that I was defeated, but rather an acknowledgement of the other two tests I had that week – Calculus IV and Organic Chemistry.  If Mr W was a betting man, he would have chuckled at my gamble.

But probably the biggest impact was all the ways he influenced my future teaching practice. From the way he made every learner feel as they were the most important person in the room to his always infectious smile and “Hi-ya” greeting, his relationship building methods were lasting.  His ability to look at a classroom full of eager learners and polish us until we shined by always providing challenging and rigorous material while simultaneously providing support was legendary.  He had a character that appeared in his problems, Johnny Kilowatt and ask any of my former junior or senior high science students, Johnny Cheapskate taught us all a lot about chemistry and physics.  I may even squeeze a “What in the cat hair?” every now and again too.

See – that it is the impact of a genuinely amazing teacher.  It would be hard for me to separate my practice from the incredible teachers who invested their very best time and energy in me.  As the wife of another one of my favorite professors offered at Mr. W’s service, we who loved him as our teacher “stand on the shoulders of giants”.

I am so deeply saddened by his passing, but I am thankful for a small gesture that I began practicing shortly after graduating.  I went back to the college and personally thanked each one of the giants upon whose shoulders I stand.  My gratitude was met with hugs, tears, and yes, one ubiquitous “Hi-ya”, but seeing the heartfelt response to my admiration is something I will never forget.

Even in his passing, I took one last time to say thanks.  I could think of no better goodbye than to say that he personally made a huge difference in my life.

We all have the opportunity to offer a small act of great love.   This week is National Education Week.  Think back to the teachers who helped shape you or who truly made a difference in your life.  Take the time to send a short message of thankfulness.  If you have children in school, ask them to do the same.

Even though I earned a B in his course, his lasting legacy earned an A in my heart and I believe teachers are doing the same thing every day in the lives of millions of students.

Take time to thank a teacher.

I’m pretty sure Mr W would be proud if we did.

 

 

The Un-sale

The what?

Well, let me tell you, the best thing I did all holiday season (aside from hanging with my peeps) started from one of my BIG ideas. Only . . . I can’t really claim any originality in this one. A while back I had read a post by a Facebook friend who shared she was doing a blessings “sale”. The reason for the quotation marks – which my now eleven year old has mastered the use of the air version of these – is that there would be absolutely nothing for sale. All the items would be given away. I watched her pictures and her posts. Her garage was neatly organized; equipped with beverages and treats at the ready to bless her friends and neighbors. Longingly I admired her commitment to less – which is an ever elusive siren song for me – and unabashedly I’ve wanted to be her.

There, I said it.

I wanted to steal her idea and love with abandon – not my stuff but – people in my own village a little more than an hour away.

On some random Tuesday, God opened that door. A small group message among teacher friends started innocuously with a question about having some items of clothing to give away and mushroomed into an amazing-drop-me-to-my-knees-hands-lifted-in-praise-moment.

Anyone who has spent ten minutes with me immediately knows three things: I am a hugger. I have a story for everything. AND finally, I am a dreamer always swirling with ideas – BIG ideas.

I seized my opportunity and blurted out (okay through my fingertips) what my friend accomplished down the road and how I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THAT. After an impassioned explanation of my big idea, my sweet cohorts announced in their own Jerry Maguire moment I had them at “blessing others.”

The crazy thing though about less is you often come away with more.

We got to plan hatching (small confession: this is my favorite part of dreaming). We chose a date, a location, created posters (both online and on paper), asked other friends, neighbors, and students to help us give back. We delivered flyers to organizations that would be able to distribute them and left the rest to God.

Well, mostly.

We three teachers live among good people, who shine brightly in the dark of winter. Donations came pouring in – once loved items, treats to share, and amazing volunteers. The entire church basement was full. The original four tables were matched with another four and another four after that. No one wanted to utter the thought, but we were all thinking it. Mother Nature had begun to stir her wintry stew. What if we did all this and no one came?

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A couple students from my department joined us in the blessing of others.

 

 

Even in the blessing, we faltered. We allowed God to be less. I should have known better. I sent the original idea friend a message telling her what we were doing and asking for any last minute pointers earlier that morning. Her simple reply baffled me.

Be prepared to have your socks blessed off.

Do what? We wanted to bless others. Not the other way around. How could this be? Is it in the giving – the getting rid of the more to have less that would somehow result in more of something else?

Blessed we were. The formerly shod were humbly drawn closer to the soul of God.

Worry we should have not.

In came one. Then two. Then four or five more were followed by countless beautiful, amazing people in need of a blessing. God’s mighty hand was opening the bags we handed at the door but more importantly opening our souls to the power of possibility, the grace of the divine, the holy of giving and loving.

Those who had doubted if any would show up fought hard to hold back tears as new friends wrapped our necks with hugs. Glimpses of glory were savored as we overheard parents saying they were rushing home to wrap new treasures for their babes. Tiny grandmothers bowed in reverence, whispering in broken English – “Thank you, Teacher.” Sweeter words were never spoken – until later that evening – when through tear stained faces, we thanked God for the more we received.

More blessings

More faces that resembled God’s own

More love

More joy

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was swirling with visions of how much more I could give away, of how I never wanted to forget this moment because I wanted more of them, and of how much more of God I wanted to see in the everyday ordinary moments of life. Swollen eyelids heavy from the tears shed and from the busyness of the day took their toll.

For that one cold and blustery night, my heart was warmed while my feet were cold; my socks being blown away much earlier in the evening.

 

When adventures melt your heart

Ponce de Leon

Lewis & Clark

Indiana Jones (Okay, I know he isn’t real, but he is one of my favorite fictional explorers.)

Jacques Cousteau

Reed Stevens

That last one is definitely real, but relatively unknown in the world of great adventurers and explorers. Reed and his trusty sidekick, Huckleberry were the rarest of adventurers. Every day, they were outside battling all kinds of foes. The neighbors never really knew the troubles which befell our street. Thankfully, the boy and his dog saved us from the worst calamities – dragons, pirates, aliens, and of course, the rare evil villains normally conquered by superheroes. The rest of us innocently went about the busyness of our days, oblivious to the perils surrounding us.

Thankfully, our boy was ever vigilant, because his imagination was packed on every trip and vacation. A quick look out of the camper would find him engaged in an epic duel with a heretofore unknown baddie. His enthusiasm for the stories his mind created carried over into the some of the most interesting places, including his grandmother’s treasured (no pun intended) vegetable garden.

One year, my sweetie and I decided to take a much-needed parents-only vacation. We trekked to North Dakota in a minivan filled with kids, suitcases, a few fries on the floorboards and visions of sleeping in and eating grown up food swirling in our heads. Dropping the kids at Grandma’s house, we hopped a train on tracks which literally followed in the long forgotten prairie footsteps of Lewis and Clark heading westward.

Refreshed and renewed we returned to learn of the fun created by our boy, his siblings, and cousins. Every good grandma has a junk drawer. Grandma Lorraine has one to rival all others. In a moment of sheer genius (or boredom – one can never tell in these moments) Reed convinced Grandma to allow the gang to bury some of the items from her stash of once loved, but now neglected, items to create a treasure map.

Adventure rarely leaves the explorer, but sometimes the great ones leave us much too early. Although I am certain he would have continued to create glorious and epic scenes here on earth, God called him home to heaven, what I can only imagine is the greatest place of exploration, at twelve years old.

When you love someone with that much creative and imaginative force in the world, his absence leaves a craterous hole in your existence. A few years after his passing, we quite accidentally stumbled upon a way to fill in some of the excitement for which we silently longed.

Our find – geocaching – was one that we know without a doubt, Reed would have loved. After gaining some experience (the rest of us were, of course, novice adventurers), we decided to create a geocache in memory of our great explorer. But where? Where would we place such a worthy remembrance? We considered North Dakota, where our adventurer now rests, just a mile or so away from his buried treasure spot.

Believe me, the gut-wrenching irony of one of my greatest treasures buried in the same fertile prairie soil is not lost on me.

Eventually we decided it would be more fun to show the rest of the world a spot he loved closer to our home, settling on our favorite place to snowshoe. Nestled in a relatively unknown location right on the campus of our local university, we spent many days were spent hiking and snowshoeing throughout the trails there. If he were here, Reed would tell you his favorite part was when we would go on the trails deep in the woods and he would wait for just the right place to tap a tree, causing a mini-avalanche of snow to land on the person behind him. Often that person, I would not recall that as my favorite part. Adventure and a wicked sense of humor make for a very interesting combination.

It was the perfect place to share our boy and brother with the rest of the adventuring world. Securing the proper permission, we logged our cache on the world’s greatest treasure hunt www.geocaching.com and hoped that some would find the treasure. They did; many extolling they would have never known Reed’s favorite spot existed.

Notifications from treasure hunters usually arrive at those moments when we could really use a pick me up. For this we can only thank God and smile remembering a boy we all love (never in the past tense, because he will always be a part of our lives).

That very thing happened last week at work. It was one of those days when the passion I pour into being an educator exhausted me until . . . one of my colleagues stopped by my office to share about her class. Holding up a tiny baseball card featuring a familiar face, she melted my heart, reminding me I work at one of the best places in the world. I believe all the great explorers have one major thing in common: an insatiable curiosity, a drive to know more and more about the world – its beauty and its people. Reed lived life large. Some of his greatest influences were teachers who dared him to dream BIG. Holding back a few tears, I hope my colleague knows one little redheaded boy would be thrilled to know a classroom full of future teachers were inspired to dream and to someday plant those dream seeds in the imaginations of their students.

I know for sure his momma was!

Here’s to the red-headed wonders, explorers, adventurers, teachers and students: DREAM ON!

reed geocache

Fly high, son. Fly high!

wingsIt isn’t often that I envy my kids. They live in a such a high-tech and fast-paced world, that I think my days of Saturday morning cartoons and playing outside until dusk seem downright genteel. But the ol’ green-eyed monster did rear his head after picking up my son from a week long experience he had the honor to attend.

My parents made mention of this academy a few years back and remarked about how they really wanted him to attend. When I told the Boy Wonder, he was intrigued by the idea of an elite training in all the subjects he loves. I’m telling you the apple does not fall far from the tree on this one. Science, Math, and Engineering, oh my! On the beaches of Pensacola Bay! I ask you what is not to love here? When we further researched the experience, I was momentarily deterred by the cost, but nonetheless made a vow that the summer between his junior and senior years we would make it happen. My parents kept us up-to-date of times to apply and opportunities for scholarships.

Let me back up a little bit in this story. Every time, we have gone home (to Pensacola), we get up early to go watch the Blue Angels practice. If my children bleed Laker blue from school pride, then I think the color of my blood must look like a combination of gulf green and Blues paint. Following the aerial show, we tour the museum. The volunteers have asked my kids if they would like to fly like that. The boys always answered with an enthusiastic, “Yes!” to which the tour guide faithfully replied back, “Study your math and science!” If that wasn’t enough to swell this teacher momma’s heart, I don’t know what would. (Seriously y’all! Melt My Heart!)

The dream slipped by the way side when he endured years of hospitalizations and surgeries, but his commitment to excellent study never did. Even though it seemed like an impossibility, he completed the very rigorous application process. Not only was he accepted but also offered a full scholarship. After what seemed to be a sequel to Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, the Boy Wonder and I arrived in Alabama where he was swiftly whisked away by my folks.

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I won’t give away everything that he did in the week so as to not spoil it for future AXPs, but let’s just say I was jealous before he began and even more so afterward. From the moment he arrived, they are welcomed on board their carrier, Ambition. Throughout the week, they train, coordinate, plan, and complete missions. Think: intelligence and rescue missions. The technology is so amazing at this academy that my son could name every local airstrip within a short drive of Pensacola Naval Air Station (because he had flown over them or to them). Not to mention, when we toured the Ambition at the closing, he showed us equipment that exists nowhere else in the world.

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At graduation, they received their wings, but family members were in for a real treat when we learned our children’s call signs. I was a little perplexed when I learned my son’s co-pilot  (6’4” and already a Marine) had the call sign, “Elsa”. When I later learned that it is very common for pilots to sing during missions, I was still a little baffled. With a small chuckle, he explained that the Commander overheard his friend singing Frozen songs and the name stuck. No, Goose and Maverick, here, but Astro and Elsa have their own ring, I guess.

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During the debriefing (by which I mean the point when you go grab an amazing burger with your mom and grandparents at Whataburger), we heard his tales of the great blue sea and sky. We heard about his dismay on the first day they introduced themselves. Everyone there had experience as pilots or the dream of being pilots. When it got to him, the Boy Wonder explained, “I’m planning to be doctor. Um, naval doctor.” He didn’t let the disconnect deter him one bit. Going on to successfully complete missions, he loved every minute of strategy, navigation, and of course, flight.

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While eating our burgers, he did share one story that had my dad’s and my hearts swelling with pride. He explained that not everyone was as versed in some skills as others and about how on his first mission, he and Elsa were the navigators at the beginning. The pilots weren’t responding to his coordinate instruction, and it was frustrating him. When it was their time in the cockpit, he quietly whispered to his buddy. “We are NOT taking navigational advice from those guys. I’ve got this! I know vectors like the back of my hand.” I know that is not exactly a team mentality, but as math teachers, we understood. I think Minnesotans could have seen our beaming smiles, and to every single one of his math teachers up to this point, I THANK YOU!!!

Well, he didn’t attend the National Flight Academy with the intention of being a pilot, but he sure caught the bug while he was there. On our three hour drive home from the airport, he remembered something he learned at med school camp a year earlier. Sometimes the pilots for medical rescue missions ARE the doctors. And yes, he has already asked to earn his pilot’s license, just to be ahead of the game.

Oh, Boy! Here we go! Up, up and away!

Special Note: A very special thank you to the National Flight Academy for the opportunity he had to attend and to learn that his knowledge and passions have real-world applications. He is waiting anxiously to learn if the advanced academy will be up and running next year. On a similar thought, I am waiting for the teacher training academy. I will bring friends! Also, to my readers, if you want to learn more, go to www.nationalflightacademy.com or ask us, we have some great stories to share.

An amazing “AHA” moment

bulb can be found at www.nostalgicbulbs.com

bulb can be found at www.nostalgicbulbs.com

I had one of those “Aha” moments yesterday.  It was truly a game changer for me.  As a scientist, I’ve always loved the story of Archimedes jumping out of the bathwater when he discovered the method to prove that the king’s crown was truly gold.  Although it is rumored he yelled, “Eureka”, that is my favorite historical “Aha” moment.  As a teacher, I have always enjoyed the times when I saw the light bulb turn on for a student.  It’s that moment when you get a glimpse into a student taking knowledge and making it their own.  Bringing big smiles to me, those moments are priceless.

My epiphany yesterday came about in an unexpected way.  I needed to travel for a business meeting, and my ministry partner who was to travel with me was needed to care for her mom.  Utilizing the best network of friends I have, I posted on Facebook asking if anyone was free for a quick trip to Sioux Falls.  Luckily for me, a friend and her little boy (whom I lovingly call Turnip) were free and up for a road trip.

I have known this friend for more than a year, but we’ve never had this kind of just the two of us time together before.  I was looking forward to it, and I was so thankful for the company.  Turnip isn’t a bad companion either.  He rode along as a little trooper in his car seat.  I will never turn down an opportunity to snuggle with him – ever!

As the day progressed, we spent our travel time just swapping stories and getting to know each other better.  Turns out, we have a lot in common.  She probably discovered what most of my friends do – I have a story about everything!  At some point, we were sharing some pretty amazing stories of how God has handled things in our life.  I don’t really know how it happened, but she was telling of an amazing opportunity of when God had put her in a place to truly bless some strangers.

As she was telling her story, it was almost as if God dropped some knowledge on that mini-van that went straight to my heart.  Sometimes, I just need to get out of my own way.  That seems theoretically impossible, but what I mean is that sometimes, I let MY plans, MY worries, MY fears, and MY failures, get in the way of God’s.  I really get bent out of shape if MY plans go awry.

Listening to her story, I realized that every single time that MY plans didn’t, well, go as planned. God had either set me up to be blessed more or placed me to bless someone else.  That knowledge was a humbling game changer.  I thought about how God had lovingly given me a new set of skills for the next plan that falls apart.  I need to adjust my horizon by praying, “Okay God! I don’t know what’s coming but I’m ready to be blessed or to bless someone.  And I’m listening.”

When that light bulb went on in my head, I am fairly certain that the Ultimate Teacher smiled.