I have as an avatar an American Gold Finch that has just jumped off of the feeder, and is flying away. I took this picture at our trailer in Ontario the first season we were there, in July of 2006.
I think I identify with the picture on many levels. For one, I have many, many pictures of feisty little Gold Finches fiercely defending the feeder as if they were Golden Eagles, not finches. The little birds seem to fear nothing, yet this one has chosen to go away instead of do battle. That is my own personal creed as well; when at all possible, turn away, go elsewhere, I am certainly 'conflict avoidant' in that respect. I just don't see the need in most conflicts.
Like this little guy, I could come back later, when the feeder is less crowded, and eat my fill without getting anyone excited. So for now, fly away. Come back on my own terms.
Secondly, he is leaving, but is obviously confident and competent, his wings and tail strong and poised. He is not weak, nor in disarray. He has made a decision, and is taking a well-planned course of action. I tend to plan, plan, then over-plan before committing, and I like to achieve a level of competence at anything that I will do in the public arena before I attempt it for real. I want to look like this guy when I do something.
Third, he is just plain handsome.
Well, I may not be handsome, but I sure would like to be. I think at one time in my youth I was something of a dude. I still care for my appearance, my clothing, my face, etc. Maybe there are some that think me still a handsome man.
It amazes me that after 51 years, some really horrific experiences in the Navy, a chronic illness that I think I am just about to finally come to grips with, 20 years plus of crutches, canes, physical therapy, and now back operations and a wheel chair, I still have the same tendencies I did as a young man, to plan, to watch, to be careful in execution, and to care for my appearance.
The only thing that has changed is that I have learned to walk away from a fight. You can teach an old crow new tricks after all.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Just Take a Pill...
I watch the television, and I see pharmaceuticals being advertised directly to consumers. Not to doctors, mind you, but to everyday people, you and me, who instantly think, 'heh, that's me, I have trouble sleeping at night! Maybe I need that stuff!'
No, you don't need that drug. It was designed for people who haven't slept in months - MONTHS - and who aren't *going* to sleep for many more months unless they get some king of drastic help. Help that comes with side effects. All drugs come with side effects, but can you live with the side effects to get the benefit of the drug?
My father had a minor eye problem, and picked up the drug he was prescribed before going home. When he went to use the drug, he happened to read the little pamphlet that went with it first. Among the many, many side effects was one - "could cause death." Dad picked up the phone, and with some concern, told the doctor he didn't think he wanted to take this drug. "That's okay, I'll prescribe something different," the doctor said, something without the offending side effect.
I think we forget a few very important things about medicines: medicines are not little miracle packets that suddenly take away whatever our problem was. They are simply part of a means we have of managing our health. We have to consider the damage that the drug will or can do, and weigh that against the potential benefit we can gain from the drug. Sometimes they will harm us more than help, and in the case of antibiotics, it may take years before the affects become apparent in the form of resistant bacteria.
We must also remember that chronic diseases are slow dieing, and no medicines will stop that. They may slow them down even further, but eventually, the disease will take the sufferer. Chronic pain is one of the worse, but others are just as bad. All the victim of these diseases can do is manage their condition as best they can, for as long as possible. The day will come when the person can fight the condition no more, and the disease will take them. Everyone associated with the person suffering with the condition must understand this, otherwise delusion turns into false hope, then the crash and despair.
Always face the future with open eyes, and your face into the wind. You cannot take a pill to make the real world, with all its suffering and pain, just go away. It won't. Reality is made of suffering and pain. It's as much a part of everyday life as your food and the air you breathe.
Your health is your own, and you are the prime determinant as to how it will turn out ten, twenty, or fifty years from now. Start now, live right, care for yourself, and you will be the one with the black feathers one day.
No, you don't need that drug. It was designed for people who haven't slept in months - MONTHS - and who aren't *going* to sleep for many more months unless they get some king of drastic help. Help that comes with side effects. All drugs come with side effects, but can you live with the side effects to get the benefit of the drug?
My father had a minor eye problem, and picked up the drug he was prescribed before going home. When he went to use the drug, he happened to read the little pamphlet that went with it first. Among the many, many side effects was one - "could cause death." Dad picked up the phone, and with some concern, told the doctor he didn't think he wanted to take this drug. "That's okay, I'll prescribe something different," the doctor said, something without the offending side effect.
I think we forget a few very important things about medicines: medicines are not little miracle packets that suddenly take away whatever our problem was. They are simply part of a means we have of managing our health. We have to consider the damage that the drug will or can do, and weigh that against the potential benefit we can gain from the drug. Sometimes they will harm us more than help, and in the case of antibiotics, it may take years before the affects become apparent in the form of resistant bacteria.
We must also remember that chronic diseases are slow dieing, and no medicines will stop that. They may slow them down even further, but eventually, the disease will take the sufferer. Chronic pain is one of the worse, but others are just as bad. All the victim of these diseases can do is manage their condition as best they can, for as long as possible. The day will come when the person can fight the condition no more, and the disease will take them. Everyone associated with the person suffering with the condition must understand this, otherwise delusion turns into false hope, then the crash and despair.
Always face the future with open eyes, and your face into the wind. You cannot take a pill to make the real world, with all its suffering and pain, just go away. It won't. Reality is made of suffering and pain. It's as much a part of everyday life as your food and the air you breathe.
Your health is your own, and you are the prime determinant as to how it will turn out ten, twenty, or fifty years from now. Start now, live right, care for yourself, and you will be the one with the black feathers one day.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Public Education
The bell rings, the next class files in and takes their seats, many take out their Science Journals and look up at the board to see what the bellwork assignment is for period; many do not, choosing instead to gossip with other students. Some simply sit in their seats, arms on the desk, staring straight ahead, waiting...
I step to the front of the class, or sometimes I hang back at the rear of the room, and survey the students in their various poses. Each class is as different as if they were individuals. Each class has a collective personality, each class has a culture, each class has a work ethic. I look over the heads of this class, and I see a large majority of the students either chatting with a neighbor, or just staring. Only three have their books out and are writing.
Every student in the room knows what is required of them when they come into the room: sit down; get out your Science Journal and something to write with; look up to see what the bellwork assignment is; do the assignment. This is all to be done as soon as the student enters the room with no further instruction. So why do I have do many students that are NOT doing what they should?
Chatters exist everywhere, and have to be redirected. There will be people that must chat in school, at work, at play, in all facets of life. These are people that cannot stand silence, and must fill it with the sound of their own voice, if nothing else, even when there is absolutely nothing to talk about! I hate having to redirect chatters, but in most instances, a cold glare or clearing of the throat will get them back on track.
The ones that just sit and stare straight ahead, they are the students that I cannot really figure out. These are people that have learned helplessness. They are going to be HELPLESS until someone (they are betting on the teacher - after all, that IS your job, isn't it?) comes along to tell them exactly what to do. Until that moment, they will be unguided babes in a terribly confusing forest, no idea where to go or what to do, no way to help themselves out of this horrible predicament they have found themselves in.
Wow... what a powerful creature I must be. I am expected to tell each and every one of these students what to do - "Take out your Science Journal and a pencil, read the instructions on the board - do what it says to do." - but I must do it *every single day!*
These are some questions I have fielded from eighth grade students in the last month:
"Do I put my name in the space labeled 'name'?"
"Should I write the answer down?"
"Mr. Garland, I can't work problem number 2. Would you work it for me?"
"If we don't know the answer, are you going to grade it?"
"She got a "B" and I got a "D." My answers are almost the same as hers."
"Can I take the test home and take it over?"
I have to wonder what happened to education in general. Our students no longer appear interested in learning, or even interested in grades. I have one class that seems to think they know more about human evolution than I do, and are more than willing to voice that knowledge. If so, then why are they in my eighth grade science class??
Students can now take all the classes we teach in the eighth grade on-line at Florida Virtual School. Why not? I think it would be less expensive to make the schools all on-line, and just leave a few buildings open for those parents that don't want their kids home all day. Then we could just come out and admit that public education has become what many have accused it of being all along: public day care.
I step to the front of the class, or sometimes I hang back at the rear of the room, and survey the students in their various poses. Each class is as different as if they were individuals. Each class has a collective personality, each class has a culture, each class has a work ethic. I look over the heads of this class, and I see a large majority of the students either chatting with a neighbor, or just staring. Only three have their books out and are writing.
Every student in the room knows what is required of them when they come into the room: sit down; get out your Science Journal and something to write with; look up to see what the bellwork assignment is; do the assignment. This is all to be done as soon as the student enters the room with no further instruction. So why do I have do many students that are NOT doing what they should?
Chatters exist everywhere, and have to be redirected. There will be people that must chat in school, at work, at play, in all facets of life. These are people that cannot stand silence, and must fill it with the sound of their own voice, if nothing else, even when there is absolutely nothing to talk about! I hate having to redirect chatters, but in most instances, a cold glare or clearing of the throat will get them back on track.
The ones that just sit and stare straight ahead, they are the students that I cannot really figure out. These are people that have learned helplessness. They are going to be HELPLESS until someone (they are betting on the teacher - after all, that IS your job, isn't it?) comes along to tell them exactly what to do. Until that moment, they will be unguided babes in a terribly confusing forest, no idea where to go or what to do, no way to help themselves out of this horrible predicament they have found themselves in.
Wow... what a powerful creature I must be. I am expected to tell each and every one of these students what to do - "Take out your Science Journal and a pencil, read the instructions on the board - do what it says to do." - but I must do it *every single day!*
These are some questions I have fielded from eighth grade students in the last month:
"Do I put my name in the space labeled 'name'?"
"Should I write the answer down?"
"Mr. Garland, I can't work problem number 2. Would you work it for me?"
"If we don't know the answer, are you going to grade it?"
"She got a "B" and I got a "D." My answers are almost the same as hers."
"Can I take the test home and take it over?"
I have to wonder what happened to education in general. Our students no longer appear interested in learning, or even interested in grades. I have one class that seems to think they know more about human evolution than I do, and are more than willing to voice that knowledge. If so, then why are they in my eighth grade science class??
Students can now take all the classes we teach in the eighth grade on-line at Florida Virtual School. Why not? I think it would be less expensive to make the schools all on-line, and just leave a few buildings open for those parents that don't want their kids home all day. Then we could just come out and admit that public education has become what many have accused it of being all along: public day care.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
When the Playing Ends
I find myself struggling in my eighth grade classroom to connect with my students oftimes, pleading, straining, stretching for any angle I can to get them to pay attention to the material I am presenting, to take notes, to at least give me the outward appearance that they are attempting to learn. Many do not even put on those minimal trappings. Why bother? I'm not interested in this stuff, they think.
When I ask what would make it more interesting for them, the answer is predictable: You need to make it more FUN! Of course, that also means you need to take away any accountability, let them goof off if they want, allow them to back out when they think it is too much effort. They want to play.
They betray themselves when the class is scheduled for time on the schools limited computer resources. Are we playing on the computers today?! they ask in breathless anticipation.
Teacher education has pushed the "play as education" for years. What is simpler, make hard learning into play, and the students will learn it easily and willingly! Except they don't. When the learning gets hard, and the student must work, the student doesn't. They would rather do some work that is like play somewhere else. The student never does the tough things that must occur to be built on later, like the multiplication tables, or spelling. The study work ethic is never developed.
We are such a sports-infused culture, and there are few young people that would not understand the exhortation of a coach who, in the workup for a season, shouts out sacrifice, hard work, sweat, all to attain the final goal of a championship. Why do these very same children not understand the very same principles for their own personal victories? Instead they use athletics as a reason not to participate in academics at all, not seeming to know that it is the all-rounded individual that will win the lucrative scholarships to top universities.
The cougar cubs play at 'got-cha,' as do the coyote pups, and the bear cubs. But comes the day when the playing ends and gives way to the deadly serious business of providing food for self and a potential mate. The things you don't want to do are as important as the things you do, more so at times, because those things that do not come naturally are the things you have to work harder at to attain mastery over.
When I ask what would make it more interesting for them, the answer is predictable: You need to make it more FUN! Of course, that also means you need to take away any accountability, let them goof off if they want, allow them to back out when they think it is too much effort. They want to play.
They betray themselves when the class is scheduled for time on the schools limited computer resources. Are we playing on the computers today?! they ask in breathless anticipation.
Teacher education has pushed the "play as education" for years. What is simpler, make hard learning into play, and the students will learn it easily and willingly! Except they don't. When the learning gets hard, and the student must work, the student doesn't. They would rather do some work that is like play somewhere else. The student never does the tough things that must occur to be built on later, like the multiplication tables, or spelling. The study work ethic is never developed.
We are such a sports-infused culture, and there are few young people that would not understand the exhortation of a coach who, in the workup for a season, shouts out sacrifice, hard work, sweat, all to attain the final goal of a championship. Why do these very same children not understand the very same principles for their own personal victories? Instead they use athletics as a reason not to participate in academics at all, not seeming to know that it is the all-rounded individual that will win the lucrative scholarships to top universities.
The cougar cubs play at 'got-cha,' as do the coyote pups, and the bear cubs. But comes the day when the playing ends and gives way to the deadly serious business of providing food for self and a potential mate. The things you don't want to do are as important as the things you do, more so at times, because those things that do not come naturally are the things you have to work harder at to attain mastery over.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Crow Speaking to Braves
In the Native traditions, it is the Crow that is most often the wisest and most knowing of all creatures, and when the headmen of the tribe wish to be advised, they seek out the Crow, and listen to his wisdom. It is the Crow that teaches the tribe about war, and about when to make peace, the Crow that tells the tribe where good hunting is, and when it is time to move on.
In my latest career as a teacher I have noticed more than ever that our society has stopped talking to our elder members. We rely on the Internet for our wisdom, the television for our insight, and we take these as irrefutable truths, as our Crow. We communicate with each other through electronic media, be it Blackberries or cell phones, which through the need to conserve "minutes" distill our language to groups of three or four consonants that make some World War II codes look simple.
What is lost? We have lost the vital thread that binds our generations, the knowledge that is passed from grandmother and grandfather, to mother and father, to sister and brother. There are literally millions of things not covered in school, things essential to living in the World, that we learn from our parents; when to wear a tie, what not to say at a funeral, how to blow your nose, where to put your money in your wallet, where to put your wallet, how to keep a checkbook, how to file your taxes, how often to dust and where to put the penny to tell when it is time...
These are things that the Crow used to tell his Children, the Tribes that Slumber. We are not listening anymore.
I find myself surprised to turn and find my brother and I as "senior diplomats" in life; we were just children ourselves, it seems. Now we are moving into the last half-century of life, that part I had been taught to fear and abhor, as I thought it meant that the end of productive living was near. Maybe. I think now it just means my feathers are turning black, and I have earned the right to talk to the Braves of my tribe, to give them some of the wisdom I have learned along the way. I know they will not get it by speaking with me personally, so perhaps this blog can be the modern substitute for that conversation, which would have taken place in such an unhurried, loving atmosphere so long ago.
Here is the Crow, Speaking to Braves....
In my latest career as a teacher I have noticed more than ever that our society has stopped talking to our elder members. We rely on the Internet for our wisdom, the television for our insight, and we take these as irrefutable truths, as our Crow. We communicate with each other through electronic media, be it Blackberries or cell phones, which through the need to conserve "minutes" distill our language to groups of three or four consonants that make some World War II codes look simple.
What is lost? We have lost the vital thread that binds our generations, the knowledge that is passed from grandmother and grandfather, to mother and father, to sister and brother. There are literally millions of things not covered in school, things essential to living in the World, that we learn from our parents; when to wear a tie, what not to say at a funeral, how to blow your nose, where to put your money in your wallet, where to put your wallet, how to keep a checkbook, how to file your taxes, how often to dust and where to put the penny to tell when it is time...
These are things that the Crow used to tell his Children, the Tribes that Slumber. We are not listening anymore.
I find myself surprised to turn and find my brother and I as "senior diplomats" in life; we were just children ourselves, it seems. Now we are moving into the last half-century of life, that part I had been taught to fear and abhor, as I thought it meant that the end of productive living was near. Maybe. I think now it just means my feathers are turning black, and I have earned the right to talk to the Braves of my tribe, to give them some of the wisdom I have learned along the way. I know they will not get it by speaking with me personally, so perhaps this blog can be the modern substitute for that conversation, which would have taken place in such an unhurried, loving atmosphere so long ago.
Here is the Crow, Speaking to Braves....
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