Q & A: I was tagged!

Saphron "tagged" me via her blog.

Personally, I'm pretty good at ignoring chain e-mails, and I'm sure I could extend my non-conformity to you've-been-tagged blogging, but I thought the questions were good. (The one I didn't like, I got to delete! The one I thought was misssing, I got to add.)

Besides, if you read my blog, you might enjoy my twist on the answers. It's fun to get behind the eyes of another. Sometimes.



Rules: Answer the questions. Replace the one question you dislike the most with one of your own, AND add one question of your liking. Tag five untagged people. Ready? GO!

What is your current obsession?
Jin Shin Do, meridians, and now EFT (Emotional Freedom Techniques).

Do you nap a lot?
Not very often, but twice last week after work. I drained my "sleep bank" the weekend before via a trip to Arizona by car for a family reunion. I can tell when I'm not getting enough sleep, or if I need a little more mental "down" time.

What is under your bed?
Dust. Lot's of dust. It's carpeted, and this summer I'll move the beds and vacuum. Twice a year, whether it needs it or not! ;-)

What would you like to learn to do?
Right now... EFT. (See #1.)

What’s for dinner?
TBD. My wife and I usually go out once or twice a week to our favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant: Mexi-Casa. Tonight may be that night! (Otherwise, I like breakfast for dinner -- eggs, grapes, toast with jam, and coffee with flavored creamer. I'm a simple guy.)

What was the last thing you bought?
I've got a bid on E-bay for a racquetball racket for my son-in-law, but "shhhhh," he doesn't know it. (He's in school, so nice equipment is not in the budget.)


What is your favorite weather?
70's and 80's during the day. 50's and 60's at night. Little or no humidity. Kind of like Southern California. (Oh. That's where I live!)

If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?
"There's no place like home. There's no place like home."
Otherwise, I'd like to visit my older kids and grandkids: British Columbia, and Illinois. (Maybe the Canadian Rockies, or on a road-trip visiting all the National Parks and National Monuments.)

What is your most challenging goal right now?
Making my summer (self-imposed) honey-do list. School's almost over. I'm just on the backside of having accomplished a major goal (1st year: new school), and just yesterday I started looking forward to the summer with its projects, travels, etc.

Do you have a blog you read daily even when there are no updates?
I check my blog reader for updates; although, I do sometimes visit blogs that haven't been updated because it's like re-reading a letter from a friend. That usually brings a smile to my face, and it's like a mini-visit, even if only in my mind.

What would you like to have in your hands right now?
A simple cure for cancer and a medical organization with enough clout (and will) to bring it to market.

What do you want but can’t have right this second?
See above. (It would also be nice to have my wife and I being at our healthy and fit weight and other health goals.)

What languages can you speak?
English and some Spanish. I also speak Troll. (All men can and do. It involves pointing and grunting.)

What language(s) do you want to be able to speak?
Better Spanish. Hey! I know what I need to do: read Spanish books to build my vocabulary. That sounds like a fun summer project. (I'm adding that to my honey-do list!)

What's one thing you're looking forward to?
Summer vacation: 19 working days away. Woo hoo! (Short-sighted? Yes. Smile-inducing: Very.)

What websites do you visit constantly during the day?
I don't. I do that before and after work. Sometimes, I'll Google something with my class, usually to find a definition or illustration. On my own time, I check my Blogger, GoogleNews, e-mail, Rhapsody, YouTube, and Google -- for my "current obsession." See #1.

If you could only listen to one artist for the rest of your life who would it be?
Julia Lane. (Celtic harpist: very soothing.)

If you had all the time in the world, what would you do with it?
Road-trips. Meaningful philanthropy. Family visits. Oh, I do that now. (I am living my dream!)

What is your favorite time period?
Now. It's all we really have. Zen: Be. Here. Now.

+What has been the highlight of 2009 for you?
Getting to know the staff, students, and families of my new school. Plenty of challenges, plenty of growth, very few "oops." It's been a great year.

And who do I tag? You. You. You. You. And yes, you!

Include yourself if you'd like. It's a fun and easy post. Those who read your blog will enjoy the insights, depths, foibles, and frolics that make you you!

Have a great weekend! (I'm playing racquetball at noon! Yeah!)

A Change of Heart

A change of heart is a wonderful thing to behold.




I’m a Resource Specialist in Special Education at an elementary school. Once a year I schedule a set of transitions meetings with the junior high staff. Because Special Education exists due to federal law, we have a lot of paperwork, but the bottom line is that we help kids who need extra help. Transition meetings are about paperwork and levels of help, minutes of service, degree of need.

It’s not always easy being the parent of a student with special needs. It’s also not always easy coming to the realization that your child needs more help than you thought. Some parents fight that reality, and in their denial they can become unreasonable.



My least favorite thing is dealing with militantly unreasonable people. Reason is my friend, my ally, and my main tool for reaching the consensus with others. I need that consensus in order to do my job, and to obtain signatures on the necessary forms.

But it’s not the paperwork that matters: it’s the kids.

Today, at one of my meetings, a parent had a change of heart. She’s been resisting the reality that her child needs more help in school. She finally decided that her child's problems are not all about being lazy. The student has a learning disability. That’s a tough reality for a parent to face, especially as you look into your child’s future.



I had anticipated a difficult meeting. I anticipated unreasonableness, but once again I presented my professional, honest, and caring opinion about levels of help this student would need at the junior high. It was not less than what the student was currently getting: it was more. (Some of my colleagues winced as I made the offer of support that we thought was appropriate because we anticipated she would resist as she had in the past.)




Then I asked the mom, “What do you think?”

She said, “I agree.”

I threw her a kiss, and we went forward from there.

It was the highlight of my day.

Over the course of the last year, I regarded the feelings and fears of this mom. I gave her the gift of time. I continued to help her child despite her misgivings. Her child appreciated the needed help, and eventually the mom had a change of heart.



It was an unexpected miracle in my day, a personal highlight, and a relief.

Elijah or the Raven?

Columnist Harvey Mackay wrote a column entitled “The heart of education is the education of the heart.” I read the article a long time ago, and it made a lasting impression. Why?

Because Mackay shares some stories about educators who were also mentors. In this article he speaks of two of his own mentors, the second being his golf coach…



“My other mentor was Les Bolstad, the University of Minnesota golf coach. Like all great coaches and teachers, Les did not teach golf. He taught life. If you learned a little golf on the side, well, so much the better.”

Les Bolstad was a raven!

Harvey Mackay was willing to learn from a somewhat unapparent teacher. Sure Bolstad was a golf coach, but Mackay learned so much more from him. He learned about life.

But why do I say, “Les Bolstad is a raven.” I’m referring to a fairly famous Bible story from 1st Kings 17. It is a story about a prophet named Elijah:

Now Elijah the Tishbite, from Tishbe in Gilead, said to Ahab, "As the LORD, the God of Israel, lives, whom I serve, there will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years except at my word."

Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah: "Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan. You will drink from the brook, and I have ordered the ravens to feed you there."

So he did what the LORD had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.



This week I had a fellow educator visit my classroom. Many of my coworkers are 20 or so years younger than I am. They have young children while my children have young children.

Despite the age difference, we all have problems. Because I’m older and more experienced, I can sometimes offer questions, insights, or advice that is helpful. I can be a raven, if they are willing to be an Elijah.

Elijah was a man of ability and influence, but he possessed a humility that allowed him to receive help from unusual sources, even from some questionable sources. Ravens were not held in high regard: they were and are scavengers.



Depending on the situation you may play the role of Elijah or the raven, if you are willing.

Me? I was a raven this week, sharing a bit of help to a needy and willing recipient. Caw!

Real Men Don’t Use Baby Wipes!

Quad riding was one of the fun activities available at a recent family reunion I attended in Arizona. The reunion was held at the Bumble Bee Ranch which is nestled between Sedona and Prescott in a 2,000 foot mountain valley.

Quad riding is dusty business. Riders sometimes wear goggles, but they almost always wear a bandana over their mouth and nose to keep the dust out. Even still, after the ride, a trip to the bathroom is usually needed to clean up a bit.

In the men’s room at the Bumble Bee, I took a few pictures to help explain this clean-up procedure.


The man wipes…












The Sink and Man Wipes...














The truth of the matter (side view of the man wipes)…










Shhhh... Sometimes real men do use baby wipes, we just rename them.

Serendipity, Providence, or a Friendly Universe

Occasionally, I am a knucklehead. (I have witnesses!) And often, I'm blessed.

While waiting around for school to let out, I described the student I was waiting for to another co-worker. "This 6th grader weighs 193 lbs. and is about 5' 9". I need his dad to sign some papers."



While waiting for this dad, I got to talking to another co-worker about some help she needed on an assignment for a class in her Masters' program. While I was talking, I saw the student come in, but I didn't see him leave. I didn't see his dad sign him out.

(It's not always fun being a knuckle-head.)

I would have missed my signature-obtaining opportunity except that the first co-worker was watching me missing the whole thing!

"Hey, Don! Isn't that the parent you're waiting for?"

"Duh!" (I ran out the door and got my signature.)

My co-worker came by my classroom later to laugh at me up-close-and-personal. I laughed too.

Her help was needed and appreciated. (One of my affirmations is: I can reach my goals, but I can't reach them alone. I need God and others.)



But this was just a small scale "miracle." A bigger one happened at my family reunion. Let me elaborate...

At the reunion I was nursing a bad back from a biking injury. On the last morning, of the last day of the reunion, I approached the wife of my cousin's son to ask for help: she's a licensed massage therapist.

Katrina, the therapist, helped my back and my mind. She's trained in a sort of acupressure massage called Jin Shin Do, in addition to Swedish massage. This training, and her gift for healing, enabled her to find long-buried tensions in my muscles.

She found the pressure points associated with grief, and I was able to cathartically release tensions of grief that I'd been unknowingly holding on to for over 12 years. (To say I cried would be a gross understatement.)

What brought about this wonderful meeting? My back injury! When all was said and done, I knew why I had hurt my back: I needed to meet Katrina and learn a few things. Plus, I needed healing.



A week or two ago I had a disturbing dream: I was high on a cliff, rock climbing towards an exit with my first wife. She slipped and fell several stories, landed in a shallow pool, broke her neck, and quickly died. I couldn't do a thing. I couldn't get myself to leave the cliff. Then I woke up. (Nobody ever dies in my dreams, at least until this one. It was not a nice dream.)

Twelve years ago, at the last family reunion, my first wife discovered a lump in her belly that turned out to be pancreatic cancer. That discovery led to life-altering changes that culminated in her death 5 1/2 years later.

Driving home from the reunion on Sunday, I remembered the dream... and understood it: Someone I loved deeply had died, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. That was sad, very sad.

When did that downward spiral of sadness start? At a family reunion. At some sub-conscious level I was dreading going to the reunion, but I went.



Providentially, at last weekend's reunion, I was able to release hidden, pent-up grief I had held on to, because at the time, I needed to "be strong for the kids." I did grieve at the time, but apparently, I had held back.

I hurt my back bike-riding, but God was moving me towards a rendezvous for my benefit. God is good. He loves us and cares for us. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and if we let Him lead us, He will bring us to places of healing and wholeness.



Who knew? The children knew! They're the ones who sing, "He's got the whole world, in His hands..."

Call it what you like, serendipity, Providence, or a Friendly Universe, but I'm grateful that I was in the right place, at the right time, with the right people.

"I can reach my goals, but I can't reach them alone. I need God and others."

Thank you Katrina.

Reunion time: a family re-unites!

I learned something over the last weekend: reunions can serve to unite and re-unite. You guessed it... I went to a family reunion.

I have 36 first cousins, 33 are on one side of the family: my mom's side.



A year ago, three of the cousins started organizing a family reunion: the first since 1991. Most of the Schmitz clan lives in north central Iowa, but some of us live in the Southwest. The Croxton Kids, Aunt Glennys' children, put together a long weekend at a dude ranch setting in Bumblebee, Arizona. About 40 miles north of Phoenix, at about 2,000 feet elevation, the ranch is set in a mountain valley surrounded by saguaro cacti, open range, and ancient Indian petroglyphs.



But the highlights were not in the surroundings, activities, accommodations, nor the setting: it was in the people. (People came from many places: Australia, California, Arizona, Minnesota, Colorado and Iowa.)

I caught up with cousins who I'd not seen in 35 years, or 20 years, or 1/2 year. I met the grown kids of some cousins, and grandkids of others.

It was enlightening, enlivening, and a bucket load of fun!



Because of a greater shared past, family reunions outshine school reunions. In the 1920's and 30's my grandparents had a brood of 12 children. Eleven are still alive, four showed up, along with a dozen or so cousins, and a dozen or so of their kids, and a half dozen of their kids' kids. Forty some of us were there. Some of us were reuniting, but some were uniting for the first time. We all share a bond of family that runs over 90 years back. It was special.

If you ever get the chance to attend a family reunion of your own, go. It's worth the effort and expense. Like the old song says, "Make new friends, but keep the old: one is silver and the other's gold."




I made some new friends. I reunited with some old friends. And the best part of it is... they are my family: silver and gold.

Oopps. My bad.

I am an education specialist: at least that’s how my credential reads. We used to be called Resource Specialists. Bottom line is we’re the ones who are assigned to provide educational support to students with disabilities. That’s what I do.



But most jobs have a line item in the job description that reads, “And other duties as required.” My job descriptions has that line, and one of the “other duties” is managing several meeting calendars. Part of my job is to coordinate meetings with parents, administrators, the school psychologist, the school nurse, and sometimes the speech and language pathologist. (Most women handle this with ease. They have a lifetime of practice. Men? Not-so-much, and sometimes that’s a problem.)



I set up and attend three to five of these meetings a week 35 to 40 weeks a year. That’s a lot of meetings, but it’s part of the job. Communication isn’t easy, and it requires much planning and execution to pull-off that many meetings. Most of the time I muddle through. I appear competent and professional. Most of the time.

What is irritating is when I plan the meeting and one key person doesn’t show up. It’s especially irritating when the parents don’t show up. It makes the rest of us think that they don’t care. That’s what happened this Friday morning.



Although it was annoying when the parents for this particular important meeting didn’t show up, the five of us who did show up quickly filled that hour and a half slot with other urgent activities. It’s that time of year when we are all quite busy.

Later in the day, as I was figuring out what papers I’d have to have the parents sign to bypass setting up a new meeting when I a made an uncomfortable discovery: I’d never invited the parents to the meeting. My bad. They were no-shows because I missed the part where I was supposed to mail the invitation. (I had sent them a set of parent rights, and a form requesting permission to test their student, but I’d missed one key item: the invitation.)

One of the true tests of an individual is how they handle personal failure. Me? I’ve learned to simply own up to mine. Nobody likes being the “dumb-ass,” but it’s a part we each get to play on occasion. It was my turn. (Again.) I found the five people who thought the parents were no-shows, and I explained what really happened.



The interesting thing was, no one really got mad at me: they all thought it was funny. When it’s not life threatening, someone else’s failure is often a source of humor to others. This is especially true if the person who goofs up usually doesn’t. Seeing a competent person’s foibles makes it easier living with our own.

I made a choice to own up to my mistakes, and in so doing, made it easier for others to live with their own. A common, knee-jerk reaction in human interactions is to hide our vulnerabilities and shortcomings in order to maintain relationships; however, it is those very vulnerabilities and shortcomings, which provide the points of union with others.

I’m reading a book this weekend, and one of the characters tells another, “You’re going to have to develop a sense of humor.” The character in need of a sense of humor had a bigger flaw: he took himself too seriously. He hadn’t yet learned to laugh at himself. I have. (And I give myself lots of opportunities: planned and unplanned!)



I had been searching for a topic worth writing about for this weekend's blog post. Last night as I was heading to bed, I remembered my personal fiasco, and it brought a smile to my face. I thought it might bring one to your’s as well.

(I also met up with the parent after school, told her what had happened, and rescheduled the meeting for next Tuesday. She was gracious. She understood.)

Life happens, and life goes on. And sometimes, it’s a funny show to watch. I was featured this week on the "show"; unfortunately, it was only on the out-takes.