One Good Friend

One Good Friend

When she was in sixth grade, my friend Barbara joined a new crowd. She had been my “best-next-door-friend” and we had spent years climbing trees, riding bikes and sharing books. But when she entered junior high and moved into preteen-hood, I remained a part of her childhood. She moved on. 

Even though we lived next door to each other, we attended different schools. During the week, Barbara spent time with her new friends. She was a great athlete and spent hours practicing with this team or that and rode home on the late bus. I caught up with her on weekends when we still sprawled in her bedroom reading together or listening to music. But eventually, her new friends invaded the weekend too and I got left behind more and more.

One weekend, one of Barbara’s new friends, Eva, was having a sleep-over.  Sleep-overs were the Nirvana of sixth grade. Barbara regaled me with the plans her gang had made—prank phone calls, popcorn, pizza, horror movies and Twister. 

I went home and cried.  I couldn’t explain to my mother what the fuss was about.  Strangely enough, in the middle of my flood of tears, the phone rang.

“Hi Lisa.  It’s Eva.  Want to come to my sleep-over?” I couldn’t believe it!  Eva lived in the neighborhood but she was Barbara’s friend. I said yes as tears still dripped down my cheeks. I called Barbara and we squealed about the fun we would have.  I hung up and again burst into tears – this time tears of happiness.    

That Friday night, I arrived at Eva’s with my brother’s sleeping bag and a suitcase full of “just in case” clothing. There were five other girls from the junior high and the party was a blast!  We spread out our sleeping bags in Eva’s basement, and then invaded the kitchen for pizza and ice cream. We dialed random numbers and asked “Is your refrigerator running? Yes? Then you’d better catch it!” We watched scary movies with our blankets up over our heads. We danced until we dropped and Eva’s mother yelled down the stairs, “All right, you girls settle down now.”

After we crawled into our sleeping bags, Barbara and her friends starting gossiping about junior high issues. Since I was the only outsider there, I lay quietly with my eyes closed listening.  As I was drifting off, I heard my name mentioned.

“Why’d you want me to invite her anyway?” Eva asked. “She’s weird and she talks funny.” My eyes burned with tears. During the party, some of the girls had mimicked me, but I had thought it all part of the fun. A few bumps and shoves during the games seemed harmless at the time. I noticed that my sleeping bag had been maneuvered into the corner too. Giggles punctuated Eva’s remark.  I waited for Barbara’s reply.

Barbara answered, “I don’t care. She’s my friend.

Years and years have passed and I can still feel how my heart stopped when Barbara uttered those words. It didn’t matter that the other girls thought I was weird. It didn’t matter that I talked funny. Barbara had not abandoned me. She was one good friend.

When I was teaching and a little one with tearful eyes wondered why her friends had forsaken her, I’d remember Barbara. 

I'd look into those brimming eyes and ask, 

“Do you have one good friend?" That’s all you really need.”

One good friend. 

Someone you’ll never forget. 

Someone who will never forget you. 

Consumer Confusion

Consumer Confusion

A mother called into a financial advice radio program with the following comment: “My son just left for his freshman year at college. All his worldly effects fit into one little car.  I didn’t know whether to console him or congratulate him.” She feared that his peers might frown on someone who has so few possessions. Then again, she was proud of her son because he didn’t need all the trappings society demands.

We live in a consumer-driven society. We have so many products and so many stores to sell them that the economy now depends on our out-of-control spending. Many people are deeply in debt. Advertisers entice buyers to spend more than they should and credit card companies pave the way to financial ruin. We end up with a lot of stuff and anxiety.

Young people develop the acquiring habit as toddlers. One young mother of a toddler bragged, “She won’t wear anything but name brands!” Little kids don’t have one doll or truck -- they have twenty. Teens have clothes bursting from closets and drawers. Young adults drive U-Haul trucks to college.

Isn’t it crazy that we have to rent units for our extra stuff? Why do we need more, more, more? When will we have enough?

The Amish have a saying, “A happy memory never wears out.” Stuff wears out. Anything you buy for children can be lost, broken, or forgotten. But happy memories shared with families last forever.

Think back to your childhood. What wonderful memories do you have? Was it the time your dad put up a tent in the backyard so you could all sleep out? Was it when your whole family got up before dawn to watch a meteor shower? How about the time you got up at five a.m. to go fishing with your brother? Or the time you and your sisters made ice cream on a hot summer’s afternoon? How you turned that handle! It took a while and a lot of ice but it was the best ice cream you ever had.

What wonderful memories do you have now? Your baby’s first smile. Her first day of preschool. His first soccer game. The face he made when he took a big bite of a lemon slice. The way she chased bubbles on the lawn. The way her eyes opened wide when she caught her first firefly. The way he snuggled up close.

That kid who could fit all of his stuff into one car probably took a lot of memories to college with him. He will probably make more at school. His car will rust. His possessions will be discarded. His memories will never fade.

Making memories is free. You don’t have to save up for months. You don’t need a credit card. You just have to laugh and love and enjoy your family and friends. Go out and make some memories now. Start loading that car for the day they leave the nest. Memories don’t cost a cent, but they are priceless.

         

         

Famous Last Words

Once upon a time, there was a little kindergarten child who had some little problems. The teacher called her mother to discuss her concerns. The mother listened, and then said,

Oh no, you must be mistaken. My child would not do that.

The teacher replied that it was indeed her child, but she maintained,

Not my child.

Many more times the teacher called, and every time, the mother said,

          Not my child. My child did not do that. I believe my child. You must be mistaken.

The little girl continued through first, second, third, and on to fifth grade, and every year, when the teacher called, her mother said,

Not my child.

The child progressed in aggression, disrespect, and arrogance. Teachers continued to call. They wanted to help. The mother insisted that her child would not behave in such a way and that any problems must be with the teacher. The principal called -- many times. She wanted to help. The mother repeated,

          Not my child.

Most children come to school eager to learn, polite, and obedient. Most parents want their children to succeed. When teachers call, most parents listen to the concerns and ask,

          How can I help my child?

          What can I do to help you teach my child?

Most children learn what we all learn, that the world is not our bed of roses that we must learn to function harmoniously with those around us and that while we sometimes have to do things another’s way, we sometimes enjoy it and learn from that experience.

Most children.

Most parents.

But a very few parents confuse supporting their children with indulging them. These parents think that the most important quality a child can have is happiness and that if the child is happy, they are being good parents. So when the baby cries, Mommy comes running. When the toddler kicks over the house plant, Mommy cleans them up. When the preschooler wants a toy, Daddy buys it. Junior is placated and quiet, and Mom and Dad are happy. 

Soon, Junior starts wielding his influence in other circles. He wants his way -- here and now. So if his playmates complain, Mommy thinks,

          My child is just too advanced for them.

When other parents demur, Daddy concludes,

          They just don’t understand modern parenting.

When teachers call, they think,

          That teacher must have a problem. My child would not do that.

These parents view the evidence and pass judgment; everyone else must be wrong. So they continue to defend Junior and Junior learns a lesson. What do you think Junior learns?

A child’s most important advocate is certainly his parents. Outside of the family circle, you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who is more for your child than his teachers. Who else would spend hours planning lessons to interest him? Who would hold his hand, wipe away his tears, listen to his stories and dreams, and try as hard as she can to help him learn to read his favorite book? Who else would have the courage and the integrity to call home to tell a parent that his child needs a little help?

The title of this story is “Famous Last Words.” Do you know what they are? Let’s go back to that first child. The child continues to have difficulties in middle school, and, in middle school, they don’t fool around. So after being suspended several times, she had to appear before the school board with her parent. Her mother insisted,

          Not my child.

The school board concluded that, indeed, it was her child. They took action.

This same mother happened to have another kindergarten child. The teacher called. Mom listened. She said these famous last words and I hope she believed them,

          I made a lot of mistakes with her sister. I don’t want to make the same mistakes with this one. What can I do to help, my daughter? How can I help you teach her?

The teacher helped. When he had to call about a disrespectful or disobedient child, you can be sure that it won’t be this mother taking that call. She’ll hold her head up, smile at her lovely daughter, and be thankful for this time she knows,

          That’s not my child.

My Goal

My Goal

My goal this year is to educate the hearts and minds of my students.

I want them to realize that there is so much to know,

So much to love,

So much to wonder about,

And so much to share.

Every day is an opportunity for joy,

Sorrow,

Hope,

Fear,

Anger,

Passion.

I want them to say, “Read it again!”

I want them to ask “Why?”

I want them to beg,

“Can we sing…”

“Can we do…”

“Can we learn…”

“Can we know…”

I want them to know that math anchors our world,

Science explores it,

Geography maps it.

History records it,

Art illustrates it,

Music sings it,

And reading…

Reading sweeps us into the hearts and minds of another

Dragging us back,

Pulling us forward.

While reading, you can climb mountains while sitting in a wheelchair,

Explore the ocean floor without knowing how to swim,

Touch the stars with your feet on the ground,

Hold the hand that held the brush that painted the Sistine Chapel,

Or the rod that parted the Red Sea.

I want them to know that education is

Not about tests

Homework

Projects

Reports

Grades

Education is about learning to live.

Studying the successes, failures, and follies of those who came before.

And then succeeding, failing, or falling on your own,

And getting up,

 And going on,

 And trying again.

I want to be the spark that gets the fire going.

I want to warm my students’ minds and see the glow in their eyes.

I want them to set their own goals and reach for the stars.

And when they touch them,

I want them to reach back

And pull another wonderer along.

So that a continuous chain

Lights the way

For us all.

Lisa Marie Crane