A Teacher's Heart

A Teacher’s Heart

In a former life, I worked as an accountant. My life was filled with numbers. During the weeks before my daughter was born, my workplace was being audited. The auditor and I joked that the baby would be born with a calculator in her hand.   

A few hours after my daughter was born, the phone rang beside my hospital bed. It was the auditor. 

“I just have few questions,” he said. I answered them and then asked him if he realized that I had just delivered a baby. 

“What made you think I could remember all those numbers?”

“I knew you could,” he replied. “You are an accountant after all.”

It’s true. An accountant’s head is full of numbers. I remembered them all. A banker’s head must be full of money. A writer’s head is full of words, a plumber’s is full of pipes and a musician’s full of music. A teacher’s head, of course, is full of children.  And I remember them all. 

I remember the little girl who could never keep her shoes tied or her pencil sharpened.  I remember the little guy who got so involved in his work that he didn’t hear the fire bell.  I remember the kid who constantly worried that there wouldn’t be enough Popsicles, pencils or popcorn and shouted out, “He can have mine!”  I remember the two “naughty” boys who were first to offer to share when we did run short.   

I remember the kids whose parents were in the midst of divorce and the few that lost a parent in death, the tremors and tears and little fingers that slipped into my hand needing reassurance, the sweeties who shouted out that they would be a big brother or sister soon.  I remember the ones who couldn’t read but tried really hard and the ones who could and gently helped a needy friend.  

Children fill my head. Every year more entered my room and memory bank. I didn’t always remember the names correctly, but I never forgot a child. Each and every one is precious. 

Teachers often sit and reminisce about memorable students. Remember the little cutie who was so sweet that every teacher threatened to keep him back just so he could be in her class again? How about that sweetie who asked for teaching materials for her class of stuffed animals at home? Or the one who went about every day so full of life that sunshine followed her about?

Smiles and giggles fill my head. The sound of childish voices belting out a song echoes in my ears. A thoughtful reader is a wondrous thing no matter how slow or hesitantly the words come out. A budding artist glowing over a minor masterpiece, or a “mathmagician” who just figured out what regrouping is all about join the happy camper who never knew what page we were on and the quiet cuddler who reached out to touch my hand while walking in line. Rapt faces, that gazed up at me as I played all the parts in every storybook I read, reflect in my mind’s eye and slide right down into my heart.

 For that is the key to remembering. Every child a teacher remembers leaks down from her mind and seeps into her heart. Naughty or nice, they will always be your children. They will always be your boys and girls, your class, the children of your heart. And even though we borrow them from their parents for only a year, we share their joys and sorrows and hold them dear. 

  

A teacher’s heart is full of children and a heart full of children will never grow old. 

         

Seven Seconds for a Better World

A tribute to a great lady

My wonderful mother-in-law inspired this piece (written in 2006) with her kind ways. She taught me a lot.

She loved people and a good time!

Seven Seconds

Every time my mother-in-law washed her hands in a public restroom, she took a paper towel and wiped around the sink. “You know,” she said, “if everyone took a few minutes to do this, public restrooms would be a lot nicer.”  

What if we all wiped around the sink? Not only would the bathroom be cleaner, but the worker who cleaned there might have more incentive to keep the rest of the room sparkling. Maybe folks wouldn’t drop paper towels on the floor.  

My mother-in-law was right. If everyone took the time to do small helpful things, the world would be a nicer place. There are so many easy little things that we can do to help if we would only take a few minutes in our hurried lives to do them.

Wouldn’t it be easier to maneuver around parking lots if everyone returned the shopping carts to the ‘Cart Park’ or better yet, pushed them right into the store? The strapping teens who manhandle those endless trains of carts back to the store could instead help senior citizens load their groceries into their cars.  

How about holding the doors for shoppers?  I recently carried four hot cups of coffee through a series of shop doors. A nice young fellow carrying his own load of treats held the door for me, then I held the door for him, then he held the door for me again.  “Just like a relay,” we joked.  

Have you ever wished a stranger good morning? Being well trained as a cheerful greeter at school, I do it automatically. Even in New York City, that citadel of rush and rude, I usually get a pleasant reply. Perhaps that person passes along my greeting to others.

There are so many ways to be helpful. Let someone pull into your lane in a traffic jam.  Put a lid back on a trash can. Help someone unload his grocery cart onto the conveyer (after asking permission, of course). Pick up litter on your evening walk. Hand someone an item from a high shelf. Read the tiny print for an elderly friend.

A few minutes used in helping others is time well spent. 

TV talk show host Oprah Winfrey once interviewed an embittered couple struggling to save a dying marriage. The wife complained about the husband’s careless ways. He showed no consideration for her.  He wouldn’t even hang up his towels after his shower. He countered that it took too long.  He didn’t have the time.  

Oprah considered his protest during a break. She timed herself hanging up her bath towels. It took seven seconds. In the next segment, she cautioned the husband that his marriage could never survive if he was not willing to spend seven seconds on making his wife happy.

We all have seven seconds to help someone. That’s about all it takes to tie a little kid’s shoes, wipe away his tears or hug him tight. That’s about all it takes to sweep your elderly neighbor’s steps, carry in her trash cans or pick her newspaper up off of the street. 

That’s about all it takes to straighten up the stacks of paper in the copier room, throw away the coffee cups littering the break room, or share a smile with a colleague.

So the next time you are in a public restroom, look around for a charming older lady wiping the sink. Then look into the mirror. Do you see an extremely good-looking person helping her out? That might be you. Thanks! 

                       

Once Again, We Look to Mr. Rogers

After this week’s tragedy in Boston, the media reminded us of advice Mr. Rogers offered after September 11^th:

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.

For many years, millions of children visited Mr. Rogers Neighborhood every day. They listened as Mr. Rogers talked directly to them. They traveled to the Neighborhood of Make Believe to work out issues that related to their young lives. Many moms and dads joined them there because Mr. Rogers was so comforting, so caring, so gentle, and so kind. Everyone felt safe there. 

Many wonderful tributes have been written about Fred Rogers who was definitely deserving of praise. But here’s where we get it all wrong.  Mr. Rogers didn’t want us to praise him.  He didn’t ask us to watch his neighbors. He didn’t ask us to enjoy his neighbors. He asked us to BE his neighbors. 

He sang, “Won’t you please, won’t you please, please won’t you be my neighbor?” He wasn’t teaching us to appreciate kind and gentle people. He was asking us to BE kind and gentle people. With his show, and with his life, he was showing us how to be a good neighbor.  

Who can we look to now that Mr. Rogers is gone to teach us to be kind and gentle, to listen, to help, to share?  Fred answered that question for us. That person is you. That person is me. It is my job to carry on his mission. I can be kind. I can be gentle. I can listen and share and love my neighbors. We can still BE Mr. Rogers’ neighbors. He showed us how. Now it’s up to us to take over. Be a neighbor and teach your children to be neighbors too. Then it will truly be a beautiful day in every neighborhood.

Cravings

 When my mother was expecting her fifth child, she had an unquenchable craving for pickled pig’s feet. Yuck! We cringed every time she mentioned them.  Who eats pig’s feet? We watched in horror as she opened the jar. I will never forget the “squilk” as she pulled them out. 

I looked up pickled pig’s feet in Wikipedia to refresh my memory, since the last time I saw them was 1963. They are identified as African-American soul food or Irish or Korean Cuisine. Since we are Italian, I just don’t get the connection. The only thing I can figure out is that we had recently moved from Mississippi to Seattle and the southern tastes must have followed us. Perhaps Mom craved coffee or seafood when we moved from there to Pennsylvania.  

Cravings, of course, are not rational.  In fact, a craving is defined as an irrational need for something. When you need chocolate, you need chocolate!  Gee, I want chocolate and I’m allergic to it. So I understand what my mother was feeling.  We all crave something. Sometimes it’s food or drink or possessions; sometimes it’s something that doesn’t come from a store. 

Our most basic cravings are for food and shelter. Just ask any screaming infant. He wants his dinner!  A dry diaper and a warm bed are also top priorities.   Next, we want safety. Kids need a safe place to live and grow and a comfortable home and caring parents to protect them. Later, we worry about financial security and health. And we crave love.  First, we need the love of our parents, then the friendship of our peers and, as we mature, the intimacy of a spouse.  We want to feel confident and respected, and we want to use our talents to fulfill our dreams.

Sometimes our cravings are harmless. Pickled pig’s feet, though unappealing to me, are actually edible.  But sometimes, we develop cravings for things that are harmful.  Most mature adults can tell the difference.  Kids need a parent’s wisdom and guiding hand.  Too much of anything can be harmful, even chocolate, the Internet or texting. Wise parents help kids curb their cravings.

My mother has eaten nary a foot since that baby was born.  She was a beautiful baby with no porcine characteristics. She is a wonderful sister and now has four children of her own.  I know what she craves for her kids; she wants them to be cared for, safe, loved, and confident -- just like you want your kids to be.

WANTED: Great Parenting Advice

I just returned from a fabulous week in London where I saw a great many wonderful things and met a great many wonderful people. The British are so polite!  While there I saw many school groups visiting museums, castles, and the Tower of London. The British children wore uniforms and were very quiet and restrained. The French children were more "out there" and "free" -- at one point we had to plaster ourselves against the bushes in a castle maze as they rampaged past lost and laughing. It was a joy to see both groups and to ponder the parenting styles of both countries. So I decided to check in here and ask for information about how you might describe your parenting style. Give me some of your best advice! I know I will learn a lot!  Lisa Marie

Backseat Drivers

 Do you remember how it seemed like it was ten years from the time you hit fifteen-and-a-half and when you finally could get your driving permit?  It was the biggest step of your teen-age life. You just could NOT wait! Then you turned sixteen and got the Driver’s Manual. Boy how you studied!  Did you take Driver’s Ed at school? Remember those gory films? They almost scared you enough to give up the idea of driving; but nothing, no nothing, could keep you from wanting that license. The day you hit sixteen, you were there and ready for the test.  Watch out world, teen driver on the road!

Nowadays, drivers have many more requirements before they can get out on the road. After passing the written test and getting a permit, a six-month skill-building period is required. During this time, a teen must put in 65 practice hours with a licensed driver over eighteen. They must drive in all types of weather and on all kinds of roads. A parent must document this practice. Teen drivers may not drive between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m. The number of passengers must match the number of seatbelts in the vehicle. Only one passenger under 18 is permitted if not a family member. After six months of practice, three passengers under 18 are allowed – if a parent is along for the ride.

These are all very sensible rules, but I say, why wait until sixteen to start teaching your child how to drive? Why not start the first day they are tall enough to see out the car windows? We start our kids out in sports at five and six so that they will be prepared for the big leagues. Why not prepare them for the big roads too?

          Now I do not mean that you should put them behind the wheel. There are many ways to teach good driving skills.  First, be a good example. Follow the rules of the road. Keep to the speed limit. Drive defensively. Don’t drive under the influence.  Don’t eat or drink. Stay off the phone. Set the GPS before starting the engine. Show your kids what a good driver looks like.

Talk to your kids about driving. Teach them the rules of the road.  Say, “I’m checking my mirrors before I change lanes to make sure it is safe.” “I always wear my seatbelt.” “I turn off the cell phone while driving.” “I am always extra careful in parking lots because I must watch for cars and pedestrians.”

Include your children in navigating the roads. Have them help you plan your route. Ask them to keep an eye out for addresses, no left-turn lanes, cars changing lanes, traffic signals, road signs, and pedestrians. Let them practice signaling when riding their bikes.  Set up practice courses for toy trucks.

 Driving is a serious business.  Treat it with a serious attitude. Safe driving rules are not “meant to be broken.” Do you know that accidents go up by 50% when a junior driver has one passenger under eighteen?  That rate rises five times when more than one young passenger joins the crowd. Automobile accidents are the leading cause of teenage deaths. We want all of our teens to be around long enough to teach their own kids to drive.

 So, start them young. Begin teaching your children how to be good drivers long before they apply for that permit. Let them be “backseat drivers.” Ten years of practice between six and sixteen will make the roads safer for us all.