Tag Archives: eighth grade

Dear Mom,

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Dear Mom,

It was good to talk with you this past Sunday and great to hear your voice. I am glad you got the letter I wrote in Michigan.

I gonna sit right down and right myself a letter....
I gonna sit right down and right myself a letter….

I write a lot about growing up on my blog. I reflect and write how growing up made me who I am, why I do what I do, and why I think the way I think. I have never taken an accounting of the balance on my blog posts between you and dad. If I had to guess at a ratio, it would be mostly dad, about 70 – 30. Abraham Lincoln said it best, or maybe wrote it:

“The past is the cause of the present, and the present will be the cause of the future.”

The complete quote is, “There are no accidents in my philosophy. Every effect must have its cause. The past is the cause of the present, and the present will be the cause of the future. All these are links in the endless chain stretching from the finite to the infinite.”  From the Lincoln Nobody Knows by Richard M. Current (1958).

But, it really should be 50-50, after all I am a product of the two of you.

Every once in a while I’ll call to thank you for something or to apologize for all of the headaches and heartaches I put you through growing up, especially that period between 13 to 25. I don’t know how you did it considering since that period of time was magnified three-fold and lasted until we all grew up.

Growing up is a process and I continue to grow and mature, even at my age. When I stop learning and growing, it’ll be time.

Thank you for all that you shared with me that shaped me into who I am.

I love to cook because you love to cook. You taught me that it was okay to fail, as long as I learned from it and moved on. Your maxim of no comments until after dinner is good advice for a cook. You taught me to be open to new foods and even though we were young, we all remember Julia Child’s kidney recipe as well as Boeuf Bourguignon, Coq au Vin, S.O.S. – dad’s recipe from the Marine Corps – and so many other foods and dishes. Continue reading Dear Mom, →

40 years ago, today – part 2: Camels in the Night

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I had seen a car crashes and crushed cars, but I had never seen a car tossed to the side of the road and left behind destroyed after hitting a camel. I will always remember the drive from Dhahran to Riyadh across the Saudi Arabian desert in the middle of a hot July night with my dad, my new stepmother, and Warren and David, my two brothers. I was thirteen and it was 1975. It was the summer between my seventh and eighth grade. It was my summer vacation, it was our summer vacation, and we were driving across the desert to spend the summer with my dad in Riyadh. When my parents divorced, the divorce agreement gave him forty-five days of summer visitation and monthly visits, which were impossible because we lived in Sugar Land and he lived eight thousand miles away in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. When I first learned, I was going to spend the summer in Riyadh with my two brothers, a summer in Saudi Arabia sounded exotic and exciting, but soon the feeling of leaving and leaving my friends, my home, and fun things in our neighborhood made me resent my dad and the trip.

my passport - issued in 1973
my passport – issued in 1973

Our summer vacation had begun normally. School let out and we were able to see our friends and have fun in the neighborhood. However, I knew, really and the three of us knew we would be leaving for at least a month to see my dad in Saudi Arabia. To get ready for our trip we had to get new passports and have our immunizations updated. We had our pictures taken and went to the health department in downtown Houston to have our cholera shot. The shot didn’t hurt, though the hustle and bustle of getting ready made getting ready for a trip I didn’t want to go on even more difficult. We also had to pack and make sure we had the things we needed especially, the medicines I needed and the shots for my asthma and allergies that my mom gave each week. It is hard to remember everything you need, until you need it. Finally, my dad came over to pick us up and fly with us. As glad as I was to see my dad, I knew his arrival meant we were really going and that made me sad. Continue reading 40 years ago, today – part 2: Camels in the Night →

40 years ago, today

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My parents divorced in 1975. I was in seventh grade and twelve years old. After the divorce, my dad moved to Saudi Arabia, remarried, and started over. My dad had visitation rights each weekend and half the summer – 45 days. The weekends were a moot point – a weekend commute of almost 8,000 miles one-way was not practical. Especially in 1975. My communication with dad was limited: letters took weeks to traverse back and forth with a reply. I have most of the letters saved in a box in the basement. Phone calls were too expensive and the connection was shaky, too.

sugarland_saudi_)map

Forty years later a much has changed, but a weekly commute still is not practical. There is the internet with e-mail, blogs, Skype, and more. Even a phone call is made easier, too.

summer75_before
the four of us – Warren, dad, me, David – taken before the trip in front of the garage

That first summer, my dad got us for 45 days, the summer of ’75. I think it was more my mom sent us to dad. All three of us, at the same time. I have memories, my passport, getting shots, a few slide pictures from the trip, but not much else. Memories come back in bits and pieces, jogged by an anniversary or a probing conversation with my brothers or mom. Sometimes those conversations are painful and the memories are not there and have been lost. Continue reading 40 years ago, today →

Forever in Blue Jeans

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It’s Sunday, the day before Memorial Day, and the Indy 500 starts in less than a half hour. The pre-race is on and I wish I could watch it with my science students. It’s speed, physics, material science, and adrenaline all wrapped into 500 miles. I’ve been to the race track many times before, but this year I’ll be watching from the family room with B, W, and O. We’ll be thinking of B’s dad who was our ticket to the track. JD passed away last year after a long life of service to his country, community, and his family. He’s always in our thoughts.

JD Weaver (1926-2014), B, and my nephew - JD's grandson
JD Weaver (1926-2014), B, and my nephew – JD’s grandson

In my last post, I honored my dad, whom also is never far from my thoughts, either.

 There is irony in my last post because my dad’s birthday – 5/20/1933 – is also another birthday, of sorts: blue jeans were born, or rather patented by Levi and Strauss. Irony. I shared this with my classes and reminded them that education was the key to not wearing blue jeans as my dad believed deep in his core. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with hard, physical work – it needs to be done – but, most folks don’t aspire to it. Continue reading Forever in Blue Jeans →

Enveloped

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Thick clouds enveloped the lake, as if to keep it safe for another generation, a new season.

the morning's lakescape, quiet, peaceful, serene - enveloped
the morning’s lakescape, quiet, peaceful, serene – enveloped

This morning, I awoke a few degrees further north, a smidge from being halfway to the North Pole or halfway from the equator. Yesterday afternoon, we drove east, then north and arrived at a lake shrouded in darkness. It felt good to unfold after the long drive, stretch the legs, and breathe in fresh air.

It is the time of year, when few folks are here, except for a few permanent residents along the lane, the lake is deserted. Next weekend is Memorial Day, and summer’s official start, but we’ll kick off our summer this weekend. We’ll open the crawl space, pull out the deck furniture, pull weeds and breathe fresh clean air basking in the freedom of the lake. We’ll make lists and dream of warmer days. I’ll referee arguments, grill steaks, and sit beside the first campfire of summer, hopefully. And, if the clouds recede, I’ll gaze up to the heavens and soak in the wonder of the night sky. Continue reading Enveloped →

Poem in my pocket – homework

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Earlier today, I discovered to my dismay,
I had missed an important day.
I looked down into my screen
to discover what I had missed
National Poem in Your Pocket Day.

I didn’t have a poem in my pocket,
It – my pocket that is – was rather empty,
But I smiled, and moved forward,
One foot after the other,
And, made it count, anyway.

Sometimes, a day flashes past or the week disappears before my eyes without me realizing it.  This week has been a week full such days. It’s easy to miss a day, it’s not so easy to miss a week. Time waits for no one.However, thanks to Mary (one of my favorite bloggers) from A Wilderness of Words I was reminded about National Poem in Your Pocket Day. Thank you Mary!

courtesy Random House kids
courtesy Random House kids

Continue reading Poem in my pocket – homework →

Life in the balance

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crocusthumbIn a perfect world everything would be in balance, lately though it seems the world – my world – has been out of balance. Much of the imbalance comes back to teaching and having a family. In reality, I am no different from anyone else – I have a job and life – everyone does; I just have a blog and I am writing about it. Nevertheless, I do not want to sound like I am whining and if I am, please sound off in the comments section. If you have followed Making the Days Count, you already know I share the lessons I learn from my students often and share what I learn from what I teach. It’s a delicate balance – the balance between school and my blog and between school and home.

Lately school has been winning; I have too much to learn, too much to do, and not enough time to do it in. So, I have not written as much as I would have liked. I am trying to put first things first.

It’s been a tumultuous year for us – we’ve lost two family members in the last year – both on my wife’s side of the family and in the past two weeks B’s family suffered the loss of two close family friends a husband and wife whom B has known her entire life, a virtual second set of parents. The loss has hit her hard and thrown her for a loop. Sadly, no amount of comfort I offer seems to ease the pain. I listen, hug, and stay calm. I cook dinner when I can and help as much as my work schedule allows. Still, I feel as if I come up short in every role – husband, father, teacher, and student.

Even at my age, I am a student as much as I am a teacher – because I am always learning and always asking the question of why? When we stop asking why, we begin asking the question when and it is not up to me when, so I keep asking why and trying to learn as much as I am able. Continue reading Life in the balance →

Think PINK – Freedom Rock

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I have been to two funerals as a teacher. I do not want to go to another funeral again. Ever.

Both funerals I attended were in my first two years as a teacher. Actually, the first funeral was in the summer of between my first and second years of teaching. It was awful. The second was less than a year later. It was just as awful. I have not been to another funeral since though one of students lost their dad last spring. The teachers were not invited and I wanted to go, but I couldn’t; I had my own family funeral to attend to last spring.

one of my favorite teacher gifts ever. Cherished.
one of my favorite teacher gifts ever. Cherished.

At the time, there were not words in my vocabulary to express the feeling of awfulness I had when I looked into the eyes of my twelve year-old student and told him and her that I was sorry that their mother had passed away. I think I fumbled with some words like “I am so sorry for your loss.” Or maybe I said, “I have been praying for you and your family, please let me know what I can do to help you.” No matter what I said, it didn’t take away the pain of losing their mother. Or the uncertainty of what the future held for them. Those kids – Melinda and Jeremiah – are now in their twenties and out of college and have jobs like me. Occasionally, I get to visit the high school and I ran into Melinda on my way in one time, we had a nice conversation and then we parted. I had Jeremiah’s sister two years after their mom passed away and she wrote an amazing essay about how her mother’s passing was an important event in her life. I remember the essay well, it was good, thoughtful, well written; it was head and shoulders above her peer’s papers. I followed them along in high school occasionally asking high school teachers or counselors whom I knew how they were doing and then they graduated high school and I lost touch. They’re grown now, or as grown as someone is when they are in the second half of their twenties.

Fourteen years later, I still don’t believe I have the right words. Continue reading Think PINK – Freedom Rock →

Death of a Tree – the FINAL CHAPTER

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I did not feel well yesterday, and when a teacher does not feel well, that’s not good. I came home and went to bed. I took two Motrin, crawled under the covers, and fell fast asleep. I could have slept much longer had it not been for the stump grinder coming to finish off the tree. We lost that tree this past June, a week after the arborists came for that tree, B’s dad passed away. He was a sturdy as a tree and he’s been on my mind ever since. The stump grinder coming to finish it off was just another step in the circle of life.

the remains of our tree..
the remains of our tree..

I have been thinking about that tree and all of the trees we’ve lost to Emerald Ash Borer. But, I’ve had more on my mind that just trees, I’ve been thinking of the poem, “Trees,” and its poet – Joyce Kilmer. Sgt. Kilmer was killed in the Second Battle of the Marne on July 30, 1918 and is buried at Oise-Aisne American Cemetery in northern France. Continue reading Death of a Tree – the FINAL CHAPTER →

Picture Day

Family, growing up, history, Life in General, Reading, Science, teaching, Teaching and Learning, , , , , , ,

 

8th grade - 1975
8th grade – 1975

Tomorrow is picture day. School picture day. I get my picture taken every year. I’ll be in line early and looking my best for this year’s school picture. Last year, I wore a pink shirt with a blue tie and the year before, a blue shirt and a pink tie; beyond the last two years I cannot remember which year is which. It will be my school ID photo for the next year; and it will be in the yearbook. So, when my students look back on middle school, there I’ll be along with the rest of my colleagues.

We got an e-mail from the principal reminding us, but I knew picture day tomorrow.

Earlier this week I heard about a story about Dale Irby, a teacher from Dallas, Texas who wore the same outfit for all forty of his school pictures. In the beginning, it was by accident; then, he made a conscious effort to wear the same sweater every year. I looked back at my school photos, at least those I could find – and for the most part, I was like Dale Irby. I stuck to the tried and true blue shirt and sensible tie. There were a few ties that weren’t so sensible or more likely it was ‘what was I thinking?’ or ‘did get dressed in the dark?’ I am not sure. The portraits will have to speak for me.

Nevertheless, I didn’t stop there. I went back further and found pictures from elementary school, middle school, high school, and college. When I finished college the first time and started working, I stopped having an annual photo taken so there is a gap from 1982 to 1999. It was fun going back in time and refreshing my memory of what I looked like then and now. About the only thing that is different from all of the school pictures is that for the past couple of years, my hair is longer than it was in middle school OR high school.

Tomorrow is school picture day and I’ll be ready. Blue shirt, sensible tie, and a great smile. Thirty-nine years ago, I smiled an eighth grade smile and had my photo taken. Today was a great day and tomorrow will be a million and six times better. Making the Days Count, one day a time, one school photo, one lasting memory at a time.

When was the last time you went back in time and took a peak at your school photos?

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