First Days of School. Teachers Care.

            When I do teacher workshops I am consistently impressed with how much they care, how much they want help to do a better job for the children they work with. There is not a bit of  ho hum energy in the crowd. I conducted one such a workshop today on building and maintaining community in the classroom and staff. At the end I always ask teachers to write down a few things they will take from the day.  It helps me know what resonates, but in writing it they also remind themselves of what was important to them. This group offered a long list, but there were some frequently mentioned points, ones that other teachers might find helpful. So here are a few things they took from the workshop that might be useful to share.

1.    Kids act as good as they know how. I say this in most workshops, but it is true and it helps us fight the right battle. To assume they “won’t” when they “can’t” causes us to waste lots of time thinking in terms of will rather than knowing it’s a matter of skill. When we get the interpretation right, then we can go about teaching the skill rather than trying to cajole or force an ability that isn’t there yet.

2.    They come that way. If you have more than one child you know this already. While we can shape and encourage qualities in a child we also need to respect the power of inborn, hardwired temperament – in children and in each other. Some differences that colleagues view as intentional are sometimes as basic in adults as they are in children. Understanding that makes for happier faculty rooms and classrooms.

3.    Life is short; childhood is shorter. Part of our jobs as we work hard to give youngsters a good education is also to protect that short and fragile period of childhood. On a recent show on aging one of the guests reported that we have added about 30 years to our lives. She pondered that maybe instead of 30 “senior” years we should add a little up front. To let children be there a little longer and to do the same for adolescence.

4.    It is important to remember how much children and we need to feel like we belong and that our efforts at creating an environment of inclusion can keep kids from doing some crazy things to fit in. I shared a story of a reporter who interviewed me after a violent episode at a school. She asked what kids were most afraid of, such as guns or knives. I answered without hesitation, “Being left out!”

5.    The importance of “small talk.” As we chat about our pets, gardens, favorite TV show or book we build relationships that help us deal with bigger issues from a place of familiarity and trust.

More to come from the notes, but if you know a teacher share this. If you are a teacher, thank you.

You can go home again. I'm back in South Dakota

     I believe the saying that "You can't go home again." is not always true. I am home again in South Dakota, not in the house I grew up in, but with the people I grew up with. For me that's what makes it home, that and the streets so familiar in the way they look and even the way they smell that I sometimes feel tears bubbling up on my morning walks.
      I am grateful for the memories that come surging back as I pass my childhood home and the houses of close friends. And I'm equally grateful for the sense of home that continues to grow as I build new memories with my brothers, their wonderful wives and  wonderful children. Home, I believe, is a work in progress, not just a historical construct.
     My grown children are not here this summer, but I appreciate that for them this place will always be part of their sense of home. They have memories of running through the sprinkler on hot summer nights and at Christmas sledding down the hill by my mother's house in the moonlight. They have memories of happy and sad times with their family here. They have created home in this place and with these people and I'm comforted in knowing that "home" for them, as it is for me, is always under construction.

Mid Life Crisis

Many of us baby boomers are having a midlife crisis. The crisis is not that we have reached midlife, but that we are leaving it. Middle aged is such a useful adjective, but when it no longer fits we don't have another good descriptor.

We are on the doorstep of Medicare and still think of ourselves as middle age – hmm, that fits if we plan to live to 130. So a new label would be a good thing.  Sometimes we hear a news story describing a person in the story as "elderly," and then we hear that they are near our age. Yikes!  

There is the term, "senior citizen", but we baby boomers tend to think we’re a little too cool for that (and too young). If we’re not middle aged are we late aged? Sounds a little foreboding. So who are we?

That middle-aged label was so convenient, so broad, and so nonspecific. I used it for years to describe myself.  When I was a school psychologist my favorite Halloween costume for school days was “middle aged, middle class, matron,” i.e. myself. That seemed better than scaring my little clients with a green monster face or a goofy cartoon character, but now I can't use that anymore.  I can’t be that anymore.

So who am I now, if not middle aged, three quarter aged? Clumsy, too specific.  I like baby boomer. The best part is that it has a kind of powerful quality to it, as if we are the ones booming. With so many in our demographic corner that too conveys a sense of power. 

I'm not sure if another good label exists or if it’s even necessary, but I'm sure that I need to quit thinking of myself as middle aged. I'll keep looking and until I find something better, I guess I'm a baby boomer.

Retirement? No. "Rewirement Day!"

It's my first day. After 35 years as a psychologist I am done. Well, sort of. Being a psychologist is a hard habit to break.  So I am rewiring, rather than retiring. I will simply apply the skills in a different direction. 


People always ask, "What are you going to do with your time?" I am a listaholic, so I already have several pages of plans, including the following:
I want to finish some articles, to write new ones and to submit more.
I want to get my children's book published.
I want to find a way to share what I've learned in 35 years of working with families (maybe youtube videos?)
I want to teach an adult to read.
I want to volunteer at a Head Start program and help little ones get ready for the big world of Kindergarten. 
I want to relearn French and maybe go to Haiti to help with reconstruction. 
I want to go to Greece, Vietnam and the Carolinas. 
I want to visit my wonderful family in South Dakota more often.
I want to grocery shop in the morning in the middle of the week and help short senior citizens reach things on the top shelves -- and visit for a while if they want to talk. 
I want to have time to thoughtfully edit my possessions and pass things along to young friends and family. Even if I live to be 90, I won't need all this stuff.
I want to paint again.
I want to join a gym and go often -- even when there's not a parking place in front.
I want to disconnect a little from judging my life by productivity (considering my list --fat chance!)

I appreciate every day that I can function under my  own power, and I will continue to do that.

Father's Wisdom

        A few years ago I had a story in a book edited by the late Tim Russert. The book, Wisdom of Our Fathers,  allowed me to write about one of the most precious things a parent can give -- unconditional love. My Dad did not approve of everything we did, but we never doubted his love.  He didn't brag about us to others or push us into activities or accomplishments that would make him look good. But privately, we knew that he thought we were the best. My original title for the piece was, "My Father Would Have Loved My Children." My father did not live to see my little tan children, but I know he would have loved them, not just because of who they are, but because of who he was.