What High School Learned Me

I've been thinking of this assignment as an "essay" on what was wrong with High School... I think the phrase "learned me" has something to do with that assumption. But, I walked home each day this week (for some reason I think about this one on the way home more than on the way to work) and reflected on this project, I've come to realize that both the "essay" assumption and the "what was wrong" assumption are too simplistic and very likely not want Dr. K is looking for. If it was just an essay, why post it on a web page, why not just post it on Bb? If it was just about what was wrong, why ask me to reflect on what was good too?

So - what sums up my High School experience. It was, I think, unique because the school I went to was unique. It was in the public school district, but somehow not of the district. It shared a campus with a more traditional school and we had the opportunity to take some classes at that more traditional school - but somehow we were still in a different environment and were treated differently by our teachers, advisors, and each other.

So - what did I learn? I learned to think for myself. I learned that the only real barrier to what I can do is what I convince myself I can't do (or what I allow others to convince me I can't do). I learned that sometimes people on the outside of something jump to conclusions about it and then judge you based on those conclusions (but I think I'd already learned that lessons before I got to High School). I learned that sometimes you have to jump through someone else's hoops to get to the place you want to be at. I learned that just because I start down a particular path doesn't mean that I have to be committed to that path for the rest of my life. I learned that it is ok to be both an artist and a thinker - that maybe thinking makes better art and art makes better thinking. I also learned that if you want to take Philosophy your Junior year, you can work with your teacher, advisor, and others to show the district that you are learning "English" skills when studying Philosophy and so get your required "English Credits" and still study what you are truly interested in at the time. I learned that dying your hair with the refill ink for an inkpad doesn't really work and that putting hydrogen peroxide in your hair and sitting in the sun turns it orange, not blond. I learned that you can be in the Chess club, the Math club, the Drama club, and the Yearbook = that you don't have to pick between them. I learned that I really do have a sense of humor, that I can be funny, and that other people recognize and put some value in that.

I think I was very lucky. There wasn't a lot of bad and ugly... there was probably some... but now, 20 years later, it isn't the bad and ugly that I remember... it is the good. I remember the classmate who took his own life over vacation and the other classmate who finally succumbed to cancer. I remember the Ring Parties (reenactment of The Lord of the Rings) and our political campaigns for government class (did we really think it was that funny to call ourselves "The Tupperware Party"?). I remember the moment I realized that I didn't want to be a professional pianist (concert or otherwise) and the strength it took to tell my piano teacher that after ten years of lessons I was ready to pursue other interests. .

Most of the time, I felt happy and at home in school. I thrived there - but I'm not sure I wouldn't have thrived anywhere... it is my nature to want to learn and to do so regardless of whether the culture supports it or not. Jr. High School was not the best environment and I didn't have a lot of friends, the classes were (for the most part) way to easy... but somehow I still worked hard, found teachers and students that I liked, and learned. If I'd already read the books assigned for class (which happened often), then I found something else to read.

So - how do I approach this assignment? How do I approach this web page? It isn't an essay. It is a representation of what I learned. Somehow I need to combine the art and the thinking... the words and the pictures... to demonstrate what I learned... sort of a mini exhibition.

Do my actions contradict my words/beliefs?

Being sick can provide some excellent opportunities for reflection. Everything in my head sort of slows down and I can look at things differently. Sometimes - other times my mind just seems to stop working altogether.

Yesterday driving back from the doctor I saw something so ironic that I haven't been able to get it out of my head no matter how fuzzy it is with sickness and medication. Irony has become such an over used word that I sometimes think I forget what true irony is. When you need to be reminded of something, sometimes the universe does provide. So - in the midst of feeling sorry for myself yesterday - I looked at the license plate on the car next to me and noticed that it was one of those special ones that you can one get if your car uses alternative fuel and are willing to pay the extra fee for the special plate that advertises to the world that you care about the environment. Although we do have a reasonable number of hybrid cars driving around town now, you don't see one of these plates all that often, so I took a little special notice. When the light changed, I happened to glance at the drive of the car as I passed him (he was in the left-turn lane, waiting to turn). And, what ironic thing did I see you ask? He was smoking! Not only was he smoking, but as I glanced at him, he ashed his cigarette out his open window. Hypocrisy and irony both. People are remarkable.

So - I couldn't help wondering how often my own actions belie what I claim my beliefs are. The first thing that came to mind is the fact that I've gone to work every day this week and last week even though I knew I was sick. The irony about that several people (including my boss and his boss) came into work the last week of December and/or first week of January very sick (much sicker than I am in fact) and I've been blaming them (in my head) for my own sickness. So - if I thought that they should stay home, get some rest, and not subject others to their "germs," then why do I think its ok for me to go to work when I'm sick? I either need to walk the talk or I need to tone down the attitude. Maybe I'll work on a little bit of both. Right now, in the interest of Walking the Talk - I think I'll sign-off and go to bed early.

Walking Home

I love walking home from work (and walking to work as well). I've only been doing it for about 3 months now and I already experience real withdrawal on the occasional day when I can't (due to weather or the need for a car for some errand).

I think I begin to understand why my father worked at the same job for over 30 years. When I was younger, he rode his bike to/from work (rode me to school on the back of it until I was old enough to ride my own). Later though, he saved the bike for exercising the dogs and walked to/from work. He always explained how much better the day was when he walked. I smiled and nodded - but was sure that if I had my own car, I would drive everywhere! I did eventually have my own car, then for many years I didn't (and rode my bike everywhere), then I bought my first car (when I was 30). My father would still talk about how important walking to and from work is. I still smiled and nodded.

I think the fact that his job was so perfectly suited to him in so many ways has a great deal to do with why he stayed there for so many years, why when he finally did leave it was to retire (although he will tell you a slightly different version of the events that let up to that decision). But, now that I walk to work every day, I can finally see how walking does make a difference.

I don't think my job is nearly so well suited to me as his was to him. I don't know that any one job would ever be completely suited to me - I have so many different interests and want to try so many different things. But walking helps, it helps a lot.

I start each "workday" with 10 to 15 minutes of enjoyable, leisurely, physical exercise. I certainly have to pay attention to my surroundings (especially when crossing streets) but it isn't the same kind of attention that one pays (or should pay) when driving. Walking, for me, is a very introverted experience. My mind quiets as I walk. There is nothing else I can be doing while I walk (except occasionally read a bit). I can't work on the computer, sew something, clean something, cook something, or make something while I walk. I can think while I walk. My mind gets quite and then the thoughts start to open up. I can have a conversation with myself while I walk. This is what I do each day. I start and end each workday with a bit of exercise and a nice casual conversation with myself. I reflect on whatever comes to mind, I let my thoughts wander, I listen for the connections between where my thoughts wander. I try not to make myself think about something specific. I just wait and see what enters my mind, what the thought of the day is.

It is because of walking that I realized the best way to deal with some challenging situations at work - I was able to think calmly while I walked. It is because of walking that I was able to come to an understanding with myself about who I really want to mentor and why. It is because of walking that I know what my next dance costume will look like (even if I have to wait until after I graduate to make it). Walking is more than just exercise for the body, it is like an after exercise cool down (or pre-exercise warm-up) for the mind. It is invaluable. In my old neighborhood, I used to take a 30 minute walk when I got home from work (after the 20 - 30 min drive). That was a great way to end the day and start the evening but walking to/from work is even better. It bookends each day with easy reflection time.

I highly recommend walking. I just know that you're smiling and nodding.

(just to see if he really is reading this)

Dad, you're right. Never thought you would hear me say that, did you?

codliver vs. cod liver

You know how you can go through your whole life thinking something means one thing and then suddenly realize in a flash that you've completely missed the point.

Here is an example... my whole life I've heard now and then about "Codliver Oil"... it isn't something that I was ever burdened with tasting or using... but it was a term that reminded me of stories my grandmother would tell or from old movies and books. The interesting thing is that I don't recall ever actually reading about it... only hearing about it. So, for my entire life (until yesterday) I thought of Codliver as one word and did not relate it to anything other than Oil of that name. I thought of Codliver Oil as just some kind of abstract oil ..... like vegetable Oil... for some weird reason that I still don't quite understand, I never made the connection between Codliver Oil and Fish Oil... much less between Codliver Oil and Cod. Yesterday I was watching a movie and in one scene there was a bottle of Cod Liver Oil on a shelf (set dressing) and this huge light-bulb turned on over my head and I said (out loud in my empty save for me house) "OH - Cod Liver Oil... it comes from the Liver of a Cod! DUH! YUCK!" Then, I realized how completely ridiculous it was that I never made that connection and I couldn't stop laughing (note to self - try not to laugh when sick... it doesn't make the throat feel any better).

So - I have to wonder (like one of the kids in the Big Picuture who wondered what he was always rushing too and what he had missed seeing in all his rush) - what other obvious connections have I missed? What other assumptions have I made about things and then filed those assumptions away and stopped questioning?

A letter to NPR

Yesterday, Weekend Edition Saturday aired a portion of an email written by an American dive instructor who survived the tsunami. It was a poignant story and one that ordinarily I would have commended NPR for. On the surface, it seemed to be another example of NPR presenting stories that other news sources might overlook. However, in this case I was privy to additional information. It would seem that I am only a couple of degrees separated from Paul (the man whose email the story focused on). As a result, I had received a forwarded copy of the original email a day or so before the story aired on NPR. Of course, the version of the email presented on NPR was edited, that neither surprised nor bothered me. The email contained some very graphic descriptions and some "strong" language. The email was also very long. Of course, NPR would have to edit for length, language, and descriptions. However, in my opinion, it is inexcusable that NPR also edited for content. They left out an entire section that illustrated some of the bureaucratic mess that has negatively impacted the US survivors of the disaster.

So, I wrote NPR a letter.

Since I very much doubt the letter will be read on the air - and if it is, I'm certain it too will be edited - I'm putting it here too... for posterity.

====================================================

Dear Weekend Edition Saturday,



Over the years, I've come to trust NPR as a primary

source of information, news, and entertainment. 

More often that not, thanks to NPR, I know about, and

have more thorough information about, important

national and international events before my friends

and colleagues.



So it is with sadness and distress that I write to you

about my recent disappointment in your abridged

version of Paul Landgraver's tsunami survival story.



I received a copy of the original email only a day

before your story aired.  Your coverage presented a

very slanted summary.  I understand that there are

time constraints on a radio program as well as a need

to edit the piece for language and graphic

descriptions. However, I felt betrayed by the fact

that you chose to omit (or perhaps censor?) what I

believe was one of the most significant elements of

the story. 



After surviving the destruction, helping as many

people as he could, and finally finding Karin, Paul

found that the US Embassy could provide him with a new

passport but no other real assistance.  While other

countries were charting planes to get their citizens

home, the US was telling Paul that they might be able

to loan him some money (in a week or so) if they could

find three people back home to "vouch for him."  While

other countries where trying to tally exact counts of

their dead and reassure the families of the survivors,

the US couldn't even remove Paul from the "neither

found nor alive" list (though he had visited the

embassy twice, received a new passport, and requested

that his family be notified that he was alive).  In

the end, an airline from another country stepped up to

the plate and helped Paul return home.  It was only

after three days in the states and three visits to the

hospital that Paul was finally listed as "injured".

As of the time that he wrote the original email, his

family had yet to receive official (government)

confirmation of his status.



The edited version of Paul's email that you aired was

certainly heart-wrenching and heartwarming but it was

not the whole story. In fact, it was arguably not the

most newsworthy part of the story.



I've always considered NPR as an honest source of news

that I cannot find elsewhere.  It is utterly

disappointing to find that in the case of this story

it is not true. 

Learning Styles and Me

The Article for EDC665 - "Learning:The Critical Technology" has caused me to spend quite a bit of time this week reflecting on my own learning styles. Before I post on Bb - I'd like to record something of this journey in here. I've often suspected that I have multiple-learning styles, but I've never really spent a great deal of time attempting to confirm it or reflecting on why it might be the case. Perhaps I thought it was arrogant to even presume that I have multiple learning styles. Why should I be different? If the literature suggests that most people have one or two dominant learning styles, then what makes me think that I'm special enough to be different in that respect?

Reading this article has inspired me to spend some significant time this week both observing myself and reflecting on those observations. When I filled out the chart in Appendix A, I found that I placed about an equal number of marks in each column. This has happened before (other times when I've tried little self-assessments on learning styles). My first reaction when this happens is generally thoughts such as: "well, this can't be right... The literature says that I should have one dominant style... So I must not have been honest with myself when I filled this out." As I've done in the past, I looked at the self-assessment again, filled it out again, and ended up w/ very similar results.

So - I assigned myself a mission - to spend some time each day watching how I approach different tasks and challenges and watching what my approach is to leisure activities as well.

As I observed myself this week (at work, at home, and in between), I found that I do indeed approach different situations with different styles. In addition, I often approach one situation with several styles. For example, when working on a particularly frustrating bit of Flash programming I will move back and forth between looking at example of others work (pictures and diagrams), asking questions of my more capable peer, and just trying various things until they work. I don't prefer any specific method, I use them all and a move between each sort of laterally rather than linearly (meaning that I don't work through these approaches in any order, I don't abandon one for the other, and one approach is not subordinate to the other). This intrigued me, so I took a deeper look at some of the other items on the Learning styles assessment and realized that for many of the "When you..." Comments I truly do view the various options as equal or nearly equal in preference.

Why? What might cause this? Was I born with a pre-disposition toward multiple-learning styles? Somehow, I don't think that's the case. This brings me to the question of nurture and nature.

As a child, a young adult, and even now as an adult I pursue interests that fall into each of the main categories (visual, auditory, kinesthetic/tactile). I'm passionate about photography and other visual arts, I've spent years practicing, performing, and teaching dance (kinesthetic.. But also auditory as it depends so much on the music), I am both a musician and an avid audience member (many different genres of music) (interesting that I did not add music to my U101 course page), I am a voracious reader (fiction and non-fiction) and as a reader I prefer both description and dialogue (I don't think I can rate one above the other). When I choreograph a dance, I visualize the way it will look, I listen to the music and even the sound the dancers make on the stage, and I work with the way specific movements feel. When I teach dance, I "describe" how movements look, how they fell, and even sometimes how they sound (if you are wearing a hip scarf w/ beads or coins and you do a hip drop w/ the accent on the down it will sound different than one w/ the accent on the up). As far as communication is concerned, I enjoy dialogue and conversation (both the listening and the talking) and I do tend to use a lot of gestures and expressive movements (when I'm in an environment where I can do that). Even when I deliver online instruction to remote attendees, I find that I use physical expression while I'm talking. When I'm working on my own projects (professional, for school, or personal) I prefer to listen to music or news on the radio (or have a movie on in the background). When I'm listening to something (instruction or entertainment), I like to doodle and draw patterns on paper. Throughout all of this I tend to want to move physically as well, bounce my foot on the floor, tap a rhythm against my hand with the other hand, etc.

So - my suspicion is that because I actively pursue interests in each of the "areas" and because I've done this since I was a child (and was always encouraged by parents, relatives, and teachers to do this) - I was able to develop and continue to practice each style.

Mentors through the years

Thinking and reflecting on mentors is a nice way to start the new year - and it's an assignment to boot. :)
As you think back on your early years, do any adults stick out in your mind? Who were the adults who really made a positive difference in your life? Make a list of them below.

Mom
Dad
Uncle Joe (mom's brother)
Aunt Foster (Joe's wife)
Mr. Jeff Stewart (4th grade teacher)
Mrs. Kamp (piano teacher for many many years)
Mr. Peterson (Jr. High AZ History teacher)
Mrs. Milo (Philosophy and World History teacher in High School)
Dr. Pilot (High School Principal)
Dr. Dobrenz (Professor in the Plant Sciences dept at the University of AZ = mentor for an internship while I was in HS and then a professor of mine later in college).
Mr. Harold Jones (Photography teacher, advisor, mentor, facilitator, etc - throughout my undergraduate years)
Dr. Mike Damyanovich (manager, mentor, friend)
Mr. Bruce Cameron (former colleague, still a friend).

I think there must be more. I'm inclined to list other friends and teachers but I may be blurring the line between supportive friend/confidant and mentor. What is the difference. Does a mentor necessarily teach you something?

Why do you think they took a special interest in you? What qualities did you have that made them want to spend time with you or encourage you?
This seems like a rather vain question to answer. :) Seriously though, I'm sure Mom and Dad took a special interest in me because I was their first living child, because they love me, and all the other parental reasons. Those are the reasons they had at first. As I grew and evolved, I'd like to think that I became the sort of person who they enjoyed spending time with and in whom they saw potential not just because I was their child but because I had that potential and the desire to "live up to it." As to the others on my list, I think they must have each seen some kind of potential that spoke to their own interests and passions and they wanted to nurture that. As I contemplate this I realize that it seems obvious that a teacher would be a mentor - but I don't think that every teacher is a mentor for every student. I didn't list all my teachers because even thought they all took an interest in me, as well as their other students, only a few took a special interest that is still somehow sharp in my own memory all these years later. Also, the teachers on my list are ones that I took a special interest in as well. Even after I graduated from their respective schools, I went back many times to visit with Mr. Peterson and Mrs. Milo (I would have visited w/ Dr. Pilot too, but he'd retired). I wanted to share with them my new experiences and I wanted to know what they were up to, how the new group of students were, etc. They also took an interest in things that I didn't expect them to. On of my most vivid memories about Mrs. Kamp was when I took a Prelude by Chopin , broke all the chords apart and added my own melody line. I thought she might not like some kid (I think I was about 12 at the time) messing about with the work of a great master like Chopin but she not only praised my improvisation, she asked me to perform it at a recital. That had a much greater impact on me that I realized at the time.

What was it that made each of them a great mentor? What did these important people have in common?

As I think about each of the people on my list (including my parents and aunt and uncle who, of course, had something of a vested interest in me) I realize that each of them had/have some passion(s) of their own and a desire to share that passion. They also had/have a way of modeling their own passion while at the same time encouraging me to pursue my passion even if it doesn't match their passion exactly. Their enthusiasm for their own passion was matched by their enthusiasm for my journey toward finding my own path in life. They provided me with so many options but never told me specifically what to do with them. They nurtured me without stifling my own interests and explorations. It was/is as if they are climbing the side of a cliff with me, holding on to the rope so that I don't fall too far but not actually pulling me up the cliff (I'm doing that on my own).

What might these experiences teach you about how you want to be as a mentor? What lessons can you take away from these role models?
I'm beginning to discover that as I work with others it is better to support and suggest but not to tell. What is even more important is to find something in the other person that you can show genuine enthusiasm and excitement for and then do all you can to encourage them to pursue that but don't do it for them and don't tell them (step-by-step) how to do it. As I reflect on how I interact with my peers and then reflect on the work I did years ago with students, I am beginning to realize that I gave the students much more freedom to find their own path than I give my adult peers. I wonder why that is and I wonder if it has something to do with my own preconceived notions regarding what it means to teach as opposed to what it means to participate in a professional collaboration. I wonder also if I'm making assumptions about adults and whether or not they already know their path and don't need me to support it. Or perhaps I view them differently because we are in a peer relationship rather than one of authority and "subordinate." I need to reflect more on this.