Dad G

Despite having such a great father, I sometimes still feel like a terrible son. I take on too many things at once, I am disorganized, I struggle with prioritizing tasks, am often pre-occupied, and frequently forgetful. All of these things were not taught to me by my dad, but somehow worked their way into my life-skillset anyway.

I’d like to blame him here, but know that none of this was modeled for me in the home. What I am happy to share are the amazing things that I did learn from this man whixh have contributed so much in making me the man, husband, father, and teacher I am today.

Did I mention easily distracted?

Sound funny? In its own way, yes and no. Right now though, is time to celebrate my pops. It’s Father’s Day, and instead of sending a card without ever enough money or gift card value to show my appreciation, I wanted to share something digitally with the world that would honour my dad Bill, and the blessings that he has given my life instead.

Wisdom

It is no lie that from the moment a child joins Team Earth, there is much to learn. My dad stepped into the role of Co-CIO(Chief Information Officer) in my life. Come to think of it, there were a lot of roles that he took on once family life started: Co-CFO, Co-Jurist, Co-Cop, Co-Logistics Manager, and Co-protector to name five.

From the get-go he was providing information and feedback. Somedays it was like come here, be quiet, get off of that, stop hurting your sister, stop bothering your brother, go to sleep, stay out of the forest, and so much more. Dad taught me what it was like to be a peacekeeper and how to maintain law and order.

As I grew a little older, it became more technical, iterative, and descriptive. By the time I was 5 much knowledge was gained. Always be learning, work hard, play hard, be honest, do your chores, quit hitting your brother and sister, don’t interrupt, pay attention to your surroundings, be respectful to others, be a problem solver, and learn new words everyday by reading. And then it was time to go to school.

School 

To a kindergarten kid, school is a giant indoor and outdoor playground. There were things to discover, games to play, songs to sing, and people too. At the end of the day, Dad would ask us what we had learnt and I am sure that the answer was always the same one, “Nothing”. Most days, I wanted to go to school and I wanted to show how much I was learning. There was so much to do, experience, and try even when we learnt “nothing”, we still managed to learn something.

My dad shared, that when he was growing up, he liked school too. He preferred playing sports, but also enjoyed his academic subjects. For him, the end of Grade 12 meant hitting the job market. You could get a job with a high school diploma in those days. I remember that he spoke about the importance of going to college/university and how a degree would be a benefit in our lives. Hard work mattered if any of us wanted to get ahead in this world. That meant I had to get a part-time job. 

Work 

Newspaper routes, washing dishes, bussing tables, and waiter were all lines on my resumé before turning 18. As Co-CFO, finances were important to my dad too. ‘Money did not grow on trees”, clichés about money did. Yet, despite having to get up early on weekends to go to work, the satisfaction of earning my own money for a job well done has never gone away. My first official paycheck at age 14 was a big event. It also signified the end of my allowance, but the beginning of my ability to generate income and start making some financial decisions for myself.

In many ways work was like freedom. It allowed me to do the things I’d never done before. The people skills and financial literacy are still in use. My parents’ hard work allowed us to have a wonderful home and security. This privilege also came with some responsibilities and expectations (a fair deal, although difficult to admit at the time).

Working was, is, and will be what we do. Even now, at 85 years old, dad is working full time, and probably loving every minute of it. I am still many years away from that milestone, but have already begun strategizing on what my 70s and 80s will hold beyond teacher life. Law school? Advertising? Barista? All threesta?

A strong work ethic shared by my dad has served me well as an entrepreneur and as an educator. Throughout all of my iterations as a child, adolescent, young adult, spouse, parent, and educator, my father’s ability to guide me towards make good decisions without deriding my choices has helped me in and out of the classroom. What still surprises me to this day is that even when I deserved to have my figurative ass kicked with an “I told you so.” or a “You should have…”, he allowed me to make my mistakes knowing that I would learn from them. That is how I try to do it too.

Here are a few of my dad’s pearls of wisdom (original and otherwise) that I am passing on to my son. Afterall, there will always more to parenting than just passing on DNA. Perhaps DNA stands for something else too.

Dad’s Natural Advice aka DNA 

“There’s no substitute for hard work.”
“If you have time to do it wrong, you’d better have time to do it over.”
“You can’t be a leader without a following.”
“You can fool some people some times, but you can’t fool all the people all the time.”
“Do nice things that help others.”
“Pay attention to the world around you. Take time to notice the little things.”
“Be kind to others without expecting anything in return.”
“A good vocabulary is the key to higher learning.”
and my all time favourite…
“Take French, you might get a job someday.”
Yay for second language learning!

I have shared each of these gems with my son and students over the years. Not a single one appears in a curriculum document, except perhaps the learn French one(only until Gr 9). Nevertheless, the wisdom at the core of each one is also at the heart of our collective humanity and capacity to learn and grow. My dad knows this, and continues to share it with a grace and wisdom beyond any of the degrees found conferred in academia.

It is with the knowledge that I pick up the mantle he has hewed before me, carry it forward, and prepare the future to hold it high.

Thanks Dad for the lessons. I still need more. May God continue to bless you with health, happiness, and wisdom for years and years to come so you can keep on kicking proverbial ass with wisdom. 

Love Will

 

Chesed – חסד

Last week, I met with a young man and his mother via Skype to help give a TED Ed style talk. It was the first of several virtual conversations we planned.

Once the technical bugs were worked out between 500+ km of fibre optics, I was greeted by a shy, yet mischievious smile and a kind woman. There was instant rapport. The pair willingly shared in the conversation. We chatted for an hour and throughout it all, I felt like I’d known them for years. It was like we were family and my Hebrew vocabulary increased too. 

We said our goodbyes and planned to speak again. I left the conversation feeling happy and inspired. What I did not realize at the time, was it was to be our only meeting,

He was less than a decade old, and had probably done more living, in those short years, than most would with 10 times that many.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of medical appointments, diagnoses, and procedures. Yet, never without hope, desire, and strength.

Hope that he will continue to get better.
Desire to be a blessing to the lives of others.
Strength and determination to keep fighting everyday.

Impact is measured in lives changed. His was great and it can be characterized with a single Hebrew word, chesed – the attribute of grace, benevolence, or compassion – all of which he had plenty to spare.

His brief life was a reminder to all that everyone has a purpose to fulfill. And even though the number of days to fulfill our purpose is not known, to borrow the words of his mother, we too can be kiddush hashem, like this young man, true blessings to others.

 

You are a teacher

You wake up before your alarm clock because your students are on your mind. You drive to school during a blizzard even when the busses are cancelled. You are a teacher.

You see lessons worth sharing in the simplest and strangest places. Pandora’s boxes of teachable moments just waiting to be opened. The work you do permeates the core of your existence and the students you serve. It identifies you. It might even define you. You are a teacher.

You take a break from it, but can’t break free from thinking of it. Weekends, weeks, Summers spent in loud silence. Void of bells, bustling hallways, playground screams, and dozens of daily impetous interruptions. You are a teacher.

You see them trying their best though they are stuck struggling in the saddest places.
You stand beside them, behind them, and in front of them. You are sometimes their biggest fan, sympathetic ear, and excellence expectation establisher. You are a teacher.

You ask them to dig deeper. To share their thoughts. To ask questions about their world. All the while working to empower them to find their place and know that they belong because they matter. You are a teacher.

You witness the world being discovered daily through eyes of innocence and wonder. You are a teacher.

Happy World Teacher’s Day.

 

To the brother I have bothered

Tim, Mom, and writer.

He is 7 years 2 months and 2 days older than me.

He is 5 feet 9 inches, but I have have looked up to him ever since I could crawl across the floor or stick my head out my bunk bed cage to look at him up top.

At age 3, I followed him through a northern BC forest to school so I could play like he did. I am sure he would have been happier to cover me in syrup and leave me for the bears.

I wrecked his Beatles albums, his books, and his toys. Actions that I still regret to this day. He had nice things.

He is the brother that I have bothered for 52 of his 59 years on this planet. He has the patience of Job, the wit of a stand-up comedian, the generosity of a saint, and a golf swing like a rusty gate. Yet, he holds the record for most Ugly Jacket Golf Tour wins in our family.

When I was 8 he gave me money to buy candy before going off to day camp. He helped me sneak out the basement window of our house so I could run down the street and be back before anyone else knew what happened. I was instantly popular at camp that year.

He took me places. Sometimes willingly.

He was cool. He swam. I swam.
He worked. I worked.

He defended our sister from my tyrannous middle child ways. No one’s perfect.
He went away and I was sad. He came home and then we moved away.
He stayed. That was 40 years ago.

We still talk, laugh too much, and never forget to say I love you.

He will always be my favourite brother to bother.

Happy birthday Tim.

 

Flu id

flu·id

noun
1. a substance that has no fixed shape and yields easily to external pressure; a gas or (especially) a liquid.  “We all need several glasses of fluid a day”

adjective
1. (of a substance) able to flow easily. “the paint is more fluid than tube watercolors”
Fluid seems like a pretty harmless word, but when you break it into two words, you get nothing but trouble. What if fluid really meant a selfish virus – flu id: These two words from within a word mean something very different apart than when the space between them is gone.
If something is fluid, it moves in harmony about and around the forms and forces acting upon it. In Science, it is generally considered a state of matter. In the Arts, the dancers were fluid in their movements as they leaped across the stage. In baseball, a hitter may have a very fluid swing.*
Fluids are observable, measurable, and useful. Whether it’s a litre of stock, a cup of  cream, or a spoon of olive oil, together or apart, each contributes to a delicious recipe.
In life, situations can be fluid too. Often they change or are changeable with little to no control or resistance. Come to think about it, the flu is pretty good at being fluid as it evolves into new and virulent forms in order to thrive from year to year. It’s id saying. “catch me if you can.”

 The flu morphs and hides in the nearest convenient host. The id is like the GPS for our psychological and physiological existence. Like the flu, the id is always seeking ways to get what it wants and needs to survive.

The Flu virus floats around like a plastic bag in a breeze and lands on anything with a warm surface. It proceeds to take up residence in the heads and lungs of its victims. Like the id, the flu wants what it wants. Once inside, it becomes the house guest from hell, turns the heat up on its new hosts, and rejects anything that gets eaten. Not wanting to stop there, the flu and its id are even more happy to move on to a new residence with a sneeze, forgetful touch (doorknob, remote, phone) by an unwashed hand, or a nose wipe.

As a teacher, there will always be students, parents, and or colleagues battling the flu and its id on a regular basis from October to March each school year. Fevers, coughs, phlegm, dizziness and vomiting are all part of the suffering unleashed by this selfish super bug. I was down for a whole day and half this year because of it.

And what does the world tell us to do when it hits us? Get some rest, and drink plenty of fluids. SMH.

* This is the opposite to a hole in their swing as I shared in What are holes made of? Pt 2 Language

What are holes made of? Pt 2 Language

bullet-holes-1744860_640bykiwikong

This is a mind purging follow up to my 2015 blog What are holes made of? Pt 1 Science. In it, I share a story from a kindergarten class where I asked them the title question. This post continues the conversation about holes and their simple and complex nature.

When we are in debt, we are in the hole. When prisoners are put into solitary confinement they are going down into the hole. Alice in Chains and the Police sang about holes. There was even a band called Hole. Who could forget that The Beatles sang Fixing a Hole on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band? (I almost did)

Holes are similar to hunger. There are lots of holes in the foods we eat. Have you ever looked at a pancake or meringue? The lighter and fluffier the better. This has me wondering whether holes get confused with bubbles from time to time? If we really think about it at a molecular level, there are spaces in between everything – therefore holes.

Sports are filled with analogies about holes. A baseball player or golfer who is struggling to hit the ball is said to have a “hole in their swing”. Baseball players have been asked, on more than one occasion, whether there is a hole in their gloves?

In football, the offence is always looking to punch a hole through the defensive line in the hopes of seeing a little daylight on a running play. If a team does this enough times then they could score multiple time. If that happens, then their opponent might not be able to climb out of the hole they’ve made. Ouch.

Speaking of ouch, losing a player to injury will leave a “hole in the team”. Many fans have holes in their hearts when their favourite teams lose a game. Some of them could become motivational speakers for as often as they extol the virtues of patience, devotion, and ‘there’s always next season”. Maybe these die-hard fans have books in their futures?

Not surprisingly, there are books about holes. And at least one movie has been made about holes. Although, I’m not quite sure of the title. So with all of these holes to see through, what’s it all about?

When any of use language it can go a number of ways. We can dig ourselves into a hole with our words, or we can dig ourselves out just as quickly. Holes happen in arguments. When this happens such logical fallacies in one’s words expose them down to the profoundest levels. It is often said that a poor argument has as many holes in it as Swiss cheese. Words, true or otherwise might pierce the mind, but nothing can prepare for what pierces the body.

Bullet holes are also symbolic of some deep shit. Their blatant and sole intent is to put a hole in someone. To spill the lifeblood out of a fellow human might be the cruellest hole of all. When we think of all we can do to repair the holes we’ve made, there is little we can do after the hate decides to pull the trigger and fill others full of holes.

What I wonder is how the holes that have been put into people’s hearts today by gun violence and hatred could ever heal? Could we turn our minds to making things whole instead?

Better

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New Kintsugi by Kate CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 via https://www.flickr.com/photos/49965961@N00/12436054475

     Courage.             Voice.

     Meraki.                Now.

Four of the many #OneWord2018 offerings from educators via Twitter.

With the retrospective rose coloured goggles secured over my eyes, it’s time to dive into 2018 because it is going to be better. This is not a flippant cliché to elicit the feels and aahs of readers. 2018 will be better.

My one word for 2018 is better.

Whether written, spoken, or withheld on purpose my words will be better in 2018.

They will edify not nullify.
They will appreciate not devastate.
They will lead not supersede.

My lessons will be better in 2018.
They will envelope my students with ownership of their learning.
They will inspire confidence, resilience, and compassion for others.

Failures will be better in 2018.
They will be spectacular and educational.
They will be welcomed into a safe space with room for everyone.

Otherliness will be better in 2018.
Kindness will trump self-centredness.
Students will know how much I care before being asked to care about what I know.

Student voice will be better in 2018.
They will be given a place at the table where their futures are decided.
They will tell us what we need to hear, not what we want to hear.

In 2014, I heard poet/rapper D.O. Gibson share a powerful message about getting 1% better each day.* Once all of the feels and aahs were gone, the power of his message hit home. I began to imagine how to apply it to my approaches to pedagogy and personal learning.

This got me really excited about how we could all get better, and at a pace that would not overwhelm anyone. The next day, I began including this philosophy into my instruction. First, it was in French class with vocabulary, then to Math with problem solving, and soon afterwards all of my subjects. The best part of being better by 1% everyday means everyone is able to work towards an individual and common goal.

I wonder if you would even realize it when someone is 1% kinder from one day to the next, but after a month 30% increase would be difficult to ignore. Even if better only meant 1% per month; 12% per year is still excellent growth. Just ask your fund manager.

So 2018 is going to be better.
I’ve done the Math and even at a modest 0.25% per day.
I am almost 1% better than last year. So far…

What’s your #OneWord2018?

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