What was the highlight of your week?

A fellow blogger drew a blank today for a topic, so she invited questions from her readers. My question to her was, "What was the highlight of your week?"

I've used a variation of this question for the last 30 years with friends and family. Usually, I ask, "What was the highlight of your day?" This question usually eliminates a shallow, glib reply, and instead gives birth to meaningful interaction. (So don't use this question is you're not interested in conversing.)

The question also is uplifting. It makes the person reflect on the best, the good, the upbeat, the affirming parts of life that are often overshadowed by the other stuff.

The question, once posed, is often thrown back-at-ya! That's okay too. It's a good question.

The highlight of my past week, amidst the hustle and bustle of end-of-quarter grading, was an unexpected parent comment.

In educating youth, my aim is to make a 30-year impact on some of them. That means, 30 years from now, they'll look back on our classroom co-experience and say, "That changed my life for the better. That was a watershed experience in my life. Thank you Mr. Evans, wherever you are."

Because I aim for such a response, I get a few. This week a woman was snapping pictures around campus. I engaged her in conversation, partly for security reasons, and partly out of curiosity.



In the course of our conversation, she realized that I had been her daughter's math teacher two years ago. Her daughter loved my class. She talked about it at dinner. "Mr. Evans made math fun, and he helped me get it."



This mom has two children. She also mentioned her son's name which sounded familiar. Since I teach Special Education, I don't have a lot of students. My sphere of student interaction is somewhat small. But for two years at the junior high, I taught a class in creative problem solving. After mentioning that, the mom said, "Did you teach the class where they fixed wooden school benches and stuff?"



"Yeah, that was me."

"He loved that class."

That class was designed to teach kids to become CPSrs for life. (Creative Problem Solvers for life.)

Two children, one grateful mom: the highlight of my week.

Simple Pains: My Low Back

"Better living through pharmaceuticals!" That's the battle cry of a friend of mine who exercises regularly and knows the anti-inflammatory, pain-relieving, over-the-counter remedies for "simple pains." My simple pain is an aching lower back.

It's all my fault. I felt the first twinge while I was riding a bike about a week ago. (This is a real-life bike, not a stationary one.) One of the disadvantages to a real bike, is a real bump. That's what I hit, and it jarred my back. It was just a little "ouch." I finished my ride.

That night I thought I'd work that soreness out with some back stretching. Hmmm...

I woke up with a somewhat tired back from too much stretching.

Later in my morning routine, I did the silliest thing: I bent over to put on my socks. Major ouch!

That "major ouch" had my attention for about three days. But "better living through pharmaceuticals" rescued me, and I was feeling better in a day or two.

So when last Sunday came, I pushed it a little: a little vacuuming, a little lawn mowing, a little car washing, and a little weeding.
It was all... a little too much. The fact that I couldn't hardly finish the weeding was my first clue.

Three days later I'm able to get up out of a chair, but verrrryyyyy slowly.

I couldn't roll over in bed, and in the morining I have to roll out of bed onto the floor.

I'm using my feet to do common chores, so I don't have to bend. I had my wife help me put on my socks and shoes this morning. Getting out of a car is a process.

I over did it. I'm paying for my self-abuse with some simple pain.

But the lawn looks nice, and so do the flower beds. The car was peppered with bird-poo within three hours! Grrrr...

Simple pain subsides; however...

I think I'm abandoning the real bike, so I can do my real chores without crippling myself for three days at a time. Besides, I had to cancel my racquetball because of my sore back. That's just not right!

I can't let simple pain rob me of my simple pleasures!

It simply wouldn't be right!

Simple Pleasures: Weekend Highlights

This was another laid-back So Cal weekend for Don.



When you’re a grateful guy, there’s plenty in life to be grateful for: taking a long walk with the wife (and our dog), time, energy, tools, and inclination to do some yard work – and then sit in the yard enjoying it. (Never mind the sore back.)

A trip to the beach and our favorite vitamin store (a great place to people watch), many games of Spades online (50-50 split with the wife). Out to dinner for delicious Mexican food (along with our favorite set of servers), plus a new set of electric hair clippers and a self-inflicted haircut and beard trim.



These are a few of my weekend highlights… But the prize goes to…

My fellow-bloggers!

I could list their names, but I don’t want to leave someone out accidentally. In my corner of the blog-o-sphere, the inhabitants are doing well. They are asking the right questions, discerning the paths marked out for them, and keeping their heads while others are losing theirs.



My weekend highlight was the delight I got in seeing my online friends doing well, enjoying the journey, and pondering their plights.

Maybe it’s spring? Maybe it’s blogging? Maybe it’s good people making the world a better place: one little sphere at a time.

Have a great week!

Simple Pleasures: Who knew?

On my daily drive home from work, I often ask myself, “Well, Don, what was the highlight of your day?”

It’s a good question, and I like those.



On Friday, my answer was simple: Root-beer Floats!

Towards the end of our lunch in the teachers’ break room, a fellow teacher ambled over to the refrigerator and pulled out a gallon container of vanilla ice cream and two liters of root-beer.

She teaches 5th grade, and she knows things! One thing she knows is the recipe to Instant Festivity and Happiness. It goes like this: two scoops of vanilla ice cream in a large glass, then slowly pour in root-beer. Add spoon and serve with a smile. (Napkins are optional.)



I had forgotten what a tasty treat can be had so simply. It was delicious and transported me to a Happy Place. Yum!

Rather than sit and curse the darkness, this co-worker took simple action, and in so doing, lightened the mood, restored tired psyches, and she created… the highlight of my day.



Who knew? Becky did.

The Final Quarter: Charge!

The school year is three fourths completed, and it’s time to reflect.

In a word, I’d say, “Oh, yes!” (Sure, that’s two words, but “Oh, yes!")

Last year I decided to take advantage of an opportunity to switch from junior high to elementary. As with any immigration, there were certain “push” factors and certain “pull” factors. But there is always this warning regarding change, “The grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence.” But… sometimes it is! Oh, yes!



So, I am very happy that I made the change. It has turned out splendidly. I enjoy the campus, the students, the teachers, the staff, and the families. The irritants are minor, but the rewards have been significant.

Now, as the end of the first year looms, I’m pausing to reflect and predict.

Reflecting back, I’m surprised how quickly the year has passed. I’m encouraged by how smoothly the transition was made. When misgivings and self-doubt arose towards the end of the summer break, I threw myself into the new challenges. Instead of looking back, I pressed forward. As a result, my outlook improved, I was happier, and I was more prepared as the year began.

The staff and students were welcoming and helpful. My new assistant was pleasant and competent. Oh, yeah! Together we learned the ropes, forged a program, and rolled with the punches.

One hundred and thirty-five days later, it’s all good!



Managing change is challenging, but God has “CARE” packages hidden along the path of life. I looked for, and I found, His help. I muddled on, and I prospered: my students benefited.

I’m glad, that in His time, I’ve “graduated” to the elementary school setting. It’s been rewarding to help students and to serve as a positive role model to so many students.

I’ve found myself thinking many times this year, “And I get paid for this!”

But in addition to reflection, I want to predict and plan. Next year… what will I change? How will I improve? What changes can I make to make my program more effective, more appropriate, and more relevant?



I don’t know… yet. (But I’m posing the questions.)

As the fourth quarter unfolds, I’ll be a reflective educator. What worked? What didn’t? What have I learned? What will I do different next year?

Later on, I’ll figure out how to implement the changes. For right now, I’m simply pondering what changes are needed.

My aim is to create a stellar program: a program of help and support that is life changing, life altering, and life improving. Thirty years from now, I want students to reflect upon our interactions with awareness and gratitude.



Not every student will look back and recall a life-changing experience, but it won’t be for lack of effort on my part!

So where am I at? 3/4ths of a school year down: 1/4th to go. I’m ready to build on the foundation that has been laid. Some may be fighting burn-out, but me? I’m ready for the “kick.” That’s how races are won. (And I like winning.)

Writers’ Workshop: Innovator in Medicine – Elizabeth Blackwell, MD.

About five years ago I wrote a biographical sketch along with my students. I chose Elisabeth Blackwell, who was a medical pioneer. I admire innovators, change agents, and those who persist in the face of adversity. Perhaps that’s what drew me to choose this Innovator in Medicine.



Innovator in Medicine – Elizabeth Blackwell, MD.

All women working in medicine owe a debt of gratitude to Elizabeth Blackwell who was the first woman doctor in the United States and England.

Born in England on February 3, 1821, Elizabeth’s family immigrated to the United States before she was 10. Her parents had many children and it was a great shock when, after the family had moved to Ohio, the father died suddenly.




Elizabeth and her two sisters started a small school in their home to support the family. When her brothers were old enough to work, they took over the support of the family and Elizabeth was able to think about college and her dream of becoming a doctor. But there was a problem. Medical schools in the US did not admit women.

Elizabeth didn’t give up. She was finally admitted to a medical school in New York after all the male students voted to allow it. She had difficulty finding a place to live because the townspeople didn’t want a woman at the college. After working hard, Elizabeth graduated, but her dreams continued: she wanted to become a surgeon.



Elizabeth went to France to study surgery, and after a long search, she found a hospital that would train her. Unfortunately, she contracted a disease, which blinded her in one eye. This ended her chance of becoming a surgeon.

She came back to America lonely and discouraged, but she didn’t give up. No hospital would admit her patients, so she started a clinic. Later she started a hospital and a medical college.

In her later years, she moved back to England and became the first woman doctor there as well.



Elizabeth Blackwell died at 89. She was a medical pioneer who dreamed big, never gave up, and overcame many obstacles by determination and hard work. Elizabeth Blackwell’s life is a true story that teaches us many valuable lessons.

Writers' Workshop: My 80th Birthday -- letter and poem.

I had so much fun with the pseudo-predictive piece: My 81th Birthday, I did two companion fictional pieces: A Friendly Letter and a Poem. (My Language Arts class had been studying both forms.) Here are the results:

11/20/33

Dear Joanna,

Thanks for your visit. I’m enclosing a little story I wrote, My 81st Birthday, plus a poem. Both explain what was going on in my head when you came to visit. Sorry for not getting it, and for not asking you more questions. Thanks for still loving your dad, even when he’s falling apart. Thanks for the lift.

Love,

Dad

PS: Please share this with Abby and her dear Danielle.
PPS: I have the volleyball sitting on top of my TV.



Here’s the poem:

Now I Get It!

A volleyball inscribed to Danielle.
I had no idea there was writing at all.

I didn’t see the writing.
I couldn’t read the card.
I didn’t know that getting old
would be so dog-gone hard.

But I kept on asking questions,
and I learned about the ball.
I learned about Danielle’s love,
and I began to bawl.

I may not see or hear too well,
but I’d better not just fake it.
I need to still be honest,
and admit that I don’t get it.

Dear Joanna, Abby, and Danielle,
thank you for your gifts.
Your visit, your thoughts, your words,
have given me a lift.



Love,
Great-G-pa Don