George Washington Who?

George Washington Who?

I was once again standing in Independence Square expressing my outrage—yes, I said outrage – that there is no monument, not even a plaque, to honor John Adams there. While my daughter shushed me, and my husband and son quietly walked away from this nut shouting into the air, a thought struck me; how many of those standing in line to enter that hallowed hall even know about Mr. Adams and his invaluable contributions to this country? Could they even name such luminaries as George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, or Thomas Jefferson? Would they know why we honor them?

Now before you blame our public school system for once again failing to educate our young, let me assure you that this history is taught. Kindergarten students learn about George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. In fact, portraits of these founding fathers adorn nearly every school in our nation. American patriots pop up every year in class. Fifth graders do reports on them. Middle-schoolers study the government they designed. High school students analyze the problems of democracy. Students study them -- but do they engage the minds of our youth to express admiration or outrage?

Let me make a wager here. I bet that even though these illustrious Americans are remembered every year in school, your child knows more about Miley Cyrus and Frozen than Aaron Burr or Eleanor Roosevelt.  I’d win that bet, wouldn’t I? 

Why? Because these characters are somehow made more exciting than those tired old figures of history. And whose fault is that?

Well, I, for one, refuse to take the rap. I find them very exciting! And when I teach them, I show this enthusiasm. I relate amazing facts. Did you know that Andrew Johnson was accused of bigamy? I show pictures and tell stories. Abe Lincoln took the advice of a young girl who wrote to tell him that he would look better with a beard. Abigail Adams wrote to her son John Quincy, who at the age of 14 was secretary to the ambassador to Russia, telling him not to be such a "blockhead." Wouldn't it be fun to find out why?

Sometimes, my enthusiasm catches some of my students and they light up! But teachers can’t keep that light lit alone. To keep the flame going, parents and families need to fuel the fire. 

My siblings are history nuts --not “buffs” mind you -- nuts. We discuss and argue historical facts and figures as if they were contemporary. My brothers can quote long passages from the speeches and writings of John Adams. We love the guy – but don’t bring up Alexander Hamilton unless you are itching for a fight!

So should every family discuss famous Americans at the dinner table? Not in the least. You pick the subject you can be passionate about. My cousins spent hours devising perpetual motion machines with their father. My sister-in-law and her children discuss the Old Testament. My father recited epic poems for us. My nephew collected bugs and classified them with the help of his mom and dad. It doesn’t matter what subject you pick, but make it a legitimate, worthy study. Don’t let the popular media choose for you.

Now I know we can all name the nerds on The Big Bang Theory and know just who took Marcia Brady to the prom, but wouldn’t it be just as interesting to know who comprised the committee to draft the Declaration of Independence or what names the Greeks gave the ancient constellations and how they correspond to the names given them by the Native Americans? There is a world of worthy information to explore.

Catch the spirit! Know something and pass it along to your kids with a huge dose of enthusiasm. Embarrass them by expressing an opinion and knowing what you are talking about. 

My children know all about John Adams. They also have enthusiasms of their own.

And I am excited about them.

Read It Again, Mommy

Read It Again, Mommy

I read to my daughter in the womb.  Well, I wasn’t actually in there with her, but when I was reading on the outside, she was listening on the inside. After she was born it was much more interesting -- now she could see the pictures.

         

At first, we mostly read things I was interested in, but as she grew, we concentrated on books that would interest her. We read and reread all of her favorites. She never tired of saying, “Read it again, Mommy.”

         

We started out with picture books. My husband could recite all of the Dr. Seuss books by heart. When our little girl’s demand outgrew our supply, we hit on a brilliant idea. We invested in a child’s tape recorder and some 30 minute tapes. We recorded each story as we read them. This way, she could have Mommy or Daddy read to her whenever she wanted. She could follow along with the book and look at the pictures or put us “on” and play while she listened. Even better, she could listen to us at bedtime after lights out, and in the car on long trips. 

         

As our little reader grew older, we started to read chapter books into the recorder. Every day we read a chapter “live” and record it. She would listen to the previous day’s recording to review events and then to the current tape. We enjoyed many books that were too involved for one reading, but when reviewed each night became clear and exciting. We looked forward to the tapings and “reruns.”

         

Eventually, our daughter began to read herself and one of the first things she did was to make her own recordings. She played them to our family’s cats and listened to herself improve with each reading. She learned to add expression and to create tension in a reading. The cats loved it; so did Mommy and Daddy.

Now she is a voracious reader. Sometimes, she gets out those old tapes to listen to at night. She hears not only a story, but “her-story” for, as we read, a little girl asked questions and reacted to the drama being read. All of this is on those old tapes, just waiting for our grandchildren. 

And I’ll be ready when they say, “Nonna, read us a story.”

Life's Not Fair

Life’s Not Fair

    Teaching is a twenty-four hour a day job. An effective teacher reflects on each aspect of her teaching in every waking moment of her life. She reflects while driving to and from school. She ponders while cooking dinner, doing the laundry and mopping the floor. She even wakes up at three in the morning to agonize over a bad choice or remember a precious moment.

When I began teaching, I thought I was going to be teaching lessons to students. As the years went by, I very wisely switched to teaching children, not lessons. I tried to find out just what these particular children needed and to provide it for them in the way it will be most beneficial to them.    

I learned as many lessons as I have taught. Some were school lessons. Students amaze me with their creativity, insights and leaps of understanding. They are artists, poets and mathematicians. They take risks. They want to learn.

Some were life lessons. Students reach out to others who are hurting, confused or angry. They cheer each other on in challenging tasks, congratulate a winner and console a loser. They pat a shoulder. They share a smile. They put their hearts into all they do and they try and try and try. They are full of surprises. 

Sammy and Jay were always in trouble. They spent more time in the principal’s office than on the playground.   They sat right behind the bus driver. Every teacher knew their names.

Both these guys had been late comers to my little community. Both had learning issues and both had tough little lives. They never stopped talking and they never sat still. I said their names a hundred times a day. They just about wore me out. But one day, Sammy and Jay taught me a lesson I will never forget.

We were standing in line ready to head for the playground. It was a really hot day and I had promised the children that if we finished all our work, we would go out for extra recess and ice pops. They had worked hard and we were ready for our treat. I sent a messenger down to retrieve the ice pops I had put in the freezer.  

At home that morning, I had counted out just enough ice pops for the class throwing in one more for good measure. But when my messenger returned with the bag, it felt a little light. I stopped and counted. We were one ice pop short. 

    “Oh no,” I thought. “What am I going to do?  I turned to the kids fidgeting in line and said, “We have a problem, boys and girls. We are one ice pop short. If we are going to have ice pops today, someone is going to have to share.”

There was a nervous shuffling. Everyone wanted a whole ice pop.    

In the back of the line, I noticed a small motion. Slowly, Sammy raised his hand. 

The children looked relieved, but I had to clarify, “It’s nice of you to volunteer Sammy, but we need someone else who will be willing to split the ice pop with you.” 

Heads turned and nervous muttering arose. Then, Jay raised his hand.    

Those two raised hands stand tall in my memories. And when three a.m. rolls around, and I start worrying, I review moments like this and slip into sweeter dreams. 

           

           

The Cold Hard Floor

The Cold Hard Floor 

One of my little friends was telling me about her baby brother.  It seems he had reached the age, all of three, when he now had to take responsibility for his actions. 

“Now he has to take the consequences when he breaks the rules,” she said. 

“Oh,” I said, “what does that mean?” 

“Well, the last time, he had to sit on the cold, hard floor,” and here she paused dramatically, “with Mommy and talk about what he had done.”

Wow, I thought, what a consequence. Having to sit down and discuss how and why he broke the rules, and on the cold hard floor. Now, I know this child’s home and the cold hard floor is actually a very nice hardwood floor in a lovely playroom loaded with toys. Hardly the prison floor one imagines. And I know this Mommy, who has very well thought out and consistent rules. And I know this baby brother. He needs a lot of reiteration and discussion of rules. So the punishment definitely fit the crime.

           

What struck me most about this report was the part where Mommy sat on the floor with our little culprit. Mommy was right down there on that cold hard floor. Mommy needed to be there, you know, because Mommy not only set the rules but also is responsible for the following of those rules. Mommy has to take the consequences for baby brother’s actions too.     

           

Let’s say that baby brother, let’s call him B.B. from now on, didn’t follow the rules. Let’s say that Mommy let B.B. forget the rules and follow his inclinations. B.B. would not be a very welcome student or friend in the future. Parental discipline is an important building block for self-discipline which is the cornerstone of success in life. 

Should B.B. continue on his merry rule-flaunting ways, he will suffer; all around him will suffer, Mommy and Daddy most of all. I have heard it said that while parents cannot be responsible for their children, they are responsible to their children. This means that it is a parent’s job to teach, guide and correct so that the child knows right from wrong and does take the responsibility for his or her actions. This means sitting down on the cold hard floor with them.

A parenting proverb states, “Discipline doesn’t break a child’s spirit half as often as the lack of it breaks a parent’s heart.” Mommy had to be there on the floor so she will be there when B.B. stands tall and proud after achieving goals for which he has worked hard. Mommy will be there when others compliment him on his good manners. Mommy will be there when he thanks her for doing such a great job rearing him, teaching him the rules so that he could grow up and be someone.

Mommy will be there when he sits down on the floor with his children and teaches them the rules. And Mommy won’t think that floor was cold or hard at all because her heart will be warm. 

To Sleep, Perchance to Succeed

To Sleep Perchance to Succeed

In my classroom I had a rule:  If someone one falls asleep, let him sleep! Before you assume that my teaching had a soporific effect on my students, let me assure you that second grade is a very exciting place. But sometimes, a little one is so weary that she needs forty winks to recharge.  So my policy is “Let sleeping children sleep.”

Children need their sleep. In today’s high-powered society, even second-graders are over-scheduled and stressed.  Soccer games, piano lessons, karate, horseback riding, and scouts clutter up a “prepubescent professional’s” agenda, not to mention school and homework.  Many are so busy that they need an organizer app. Sleep time gets lost to TV, video games and the Internet.  Rising at dawn to dress, breakfast and race to daycare, many kids start out the day jet-lagged. 

         

As these youngsters grow, their schedules only clutter up more. Band practice, sports practice, chorus, and club meetings demand time from teens. Many also take jobs to cover the high cost of fashionable clothing and car insurance. High school starts early and after-school activities eat up a lot of time. Especially if you are trying to look “well-rounded” for those college recruiters or working towards a sports scholarship, so naturally, something’s got to give. And too many times it is sleep.

         

Experts (such as my mother) tell us that kids need sleep. Young children need ten to twelve hours of sleep a day to function properly. Teens need eight to ten hours. According to the National Sleep Foundation, many students lose at least two of these necessary sleep hours to school activities, jobs and TV. 

         

Lack of sleep results in inattentiveness and can lead to serious health problems.  According to Dr, Carl Hunt of The National Institute of Health, “A tired child is an accident waiting to happen. Injuries on bicycles and playground equipment are more likely to occur when a child is sleep-deprived and if poor sleeping habits continue as kids grow older….. It turns into the teenager who is drowsy and driving a car.”

         

Research links poor sleeping habits to obesity and heart and respiratory ailments.

Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), depression, and poor grades also have ties to inadequate sleep. International educational consultant, David A. Sousa, in his research on Brain-Based learning states that, “Adequate sleep is vital to the memory storage process, especially for young learners.”

         

Research aside; every parent knows that a tired child is not a pleasant child. My mother always told me that I needed my sleep. And she was right. During weeks at camp when I went to bed at midnight and woke at dawn, I was always physically ill by Thursday -- and I was the camp director. The kids did little better than I did with trips to the nurse multiplying as the week continued. And boy was I cranky! Any little problem became a BIG problem when I looked at it with sleepy eyes.

         

When adults get tired, they slow down. But when kids get tired they speed up. A child who looks like she is running on a full tank at midnight really ran out of gas at eight and is running on fumes. Kids lose focus and judgment when they get tired. They don’t think they need sleep.  And when the kids don’t sleep, parents lose rest too.

         

So my prescription is put them to bed. Establish a bedtime routine, stick to it and get those kids some rest. They may fight it, but they need it. I’d like my students to stay awake and have tons of fun. I want them to do it with a joyful, fully focused spirit and a great big smile on their faces. And I’d like to find just as many happy parents waiting at home, well rested and ready for the next child-rearing challenge to come their way. Believe me; you’ll need to meet it with your eyes wide open.