Summertime Classrooms

kids-playing-for-the-summerSo Memorial Day weekend is coming and the schools are closing for the summer. Tomorrow will be the last day for teachers and students across the land…NOT! Shockingly, virtually every child still has an entire week of classes left and some even have two more weeks to go. What happened to the launch of summer fun on Memorial Day? Who decided that it was a great idea to keep the kids working until well into June? How did this happen without someone protesting? Is this really healthy or necessary for our youth?

I just left my daughter’s home and I worry that my grandchildren are majorly stressed out. They are only in the sixth grade but they have comprehensive final exams in every subject next week, Can you guess what they will be doing over the so called holiday weekend? They have intricate multi-page study guides with information that they must review before the big tests which begin on Tuesday. There will be no time for barbecues or swimming or a quick trip. Instead they will spend the three day weekend making certain that they remember everything that they have learned during the school year. There goes all of the fun for them and their parents!

I honestly don’t understand what anyone hopes to accomplish by extending the school year more and more. When I was young we were always finished in time for Memorial Day and we knew that we wouldn’t have to return until after Labor Day. We weren’t exactly an ignorant generation because of that schedule. In fact we actually learned quite a few bits of practical information and skills during our three month vacation. That was when a week spent with my grandparents on their farm taught me about birds, rocks, gardening, cooking and survival skills. It was the time when my mother taught me how to touch type without looking at the keys and how to sew. I went on a book reading binge each summer, checking out as many volumes as the library allowed and consuming them well before they were due to be returned. That was also when I got my first jobs and because they actually lasted for three months I earned a full four quarters of Social Security time before I had even graduated from high school. I also found out how to keep books in a medical clinic and what it takes to run an office. No amount of class time would have given me such fantastic experiences. I literally had an internship with life each and every summer.

I understand that there is a belief among many that children need more, not less time in classrooms. Still, our society has gone a bit overboard in demanding so much of a young person’s time. I have watched my grandchildren leave for school at seven in the morning and not return until after five in the evening. They have no time for independent play. After a quick dinner they have to hit the books because they have so many assignments and projects to complete. There is rarely a moment to spare. If they are very lucky they manage to get everything completed before bedtime but there are also nights when their work keeps them up far longer than they should be. They become grumpy and tired and mostly they just don’t get to be kids. At this moment in the school year they are hopelessly burned out and yet the demands continue unabated.

I realize that some children live in deplorable conditions and that school is the safest and most productive place that they might ever be. I certainly agree that we need to create programs for them but why pull the entire population of children into the same one size fits all schedule? We really don’t need to over-plan the lives of our youth. It is often in those moments when they have to rely on their own creativity that they learn the most.

I remember putting on shows for the neighborhood. It took rehearsals and imagination to produce a worthy program. I garnered more knowledge during those moments than I might have filling out worksheets and tests during an extra week of school.

On other occasions me and the other neighborhood kids created a local newspaper, complete with comic strips and editorials. Each of us contributed to the process and had to use our writing skills as well as our business expertise. It was great fun. I would later read that Truman Capote and Harper Lee did the same thing when they were children living next door to one another. They used an old typewriter and spent entire summers creating stories and using their fledgling writing abilities. Who knows how things might have turned out for them if they had been stuck in school instead.

I don’t want to underestimate the power of education and adult guidance but I also believe that there is much to be said for providing children with the freedom to innovate. It is in those moments that adults are not watching that we are often the most curious. When nobody is there to help us we use our minds to find solutions to our problems. We also learn how to work with others without the interference of well meaning parents. We navigate around the bully who lives down the street and negotiate with friends to distribute power. We learn teamwork from experience.

I don’t expect to see the powers that be changing our educational year anytime soon. I suspect that the pendulum is swinging in favor of ever more time spent in classrooms which actually makes me a bit sad. Children are flexible and they will adapt to whatever the adults tell them they must do but when I think about what they will be missing it makes me worry. I had a near perfect childhood and I would so love for all youngsters to have the adventures that I had. I had no father and very little money but each morning for three whole months I was the ruler of my day. I got to decide if it was going to be spent reading a new book from the library or playing a life or death game of Scrabble with my friends. I could ride my bicycle to the swimming pool at the junior high or walk to art lessons at Ripley House. It was my call and I loved it.

Perhaps we can find a way to compromise. Children today are certainly being exposed to ever more information and opportunities but they often have no idea how to entertain themselves. We need to help them to develop that skill along with the others that prepare them for life. Sometimes being stuck in the yard with only a water hose and a few friends is the perfect invitation to creativity. When faced with boredom, most children eventually discover how to have fun without spending money or attending a class. Sometimes the best classroom is the one that they have to run by themselves.

 

Imagine the Future

opte.orgI grew up in an era when technology was still more or less within the realm of science fiction. When my father brought the first television into our home we made it the center of our family universe. It sat in its own room, dominating a wall, with chairs arranged in a semi-circle so that everyone might have a good view of the tiny screen. We watched the black and white images on that little square of light as though we were viewing the work of a magician. It was a far cry from listening to radio programs as we had previously done. The outmoded radio was moved to a dark corner and replaced by the more modern T.V. as the premiere source of entertainment.

Back then the television broadcast hours were limited as were the number of channels. Each evening the playing of our national anthem signaled the down time for programming. A strange looking test pattern lit up the screen until the next morning. We had no way of knowing that the shows that we watched would one day appear to be so amateurish or that the dull shades of grey would eventually be replaced with living color. We simply marveled at the wonder of the experience. A whole world of products were created to enhance our newest past time. There were T.V. trays to hold our food if we wanted to combine dining with viewing. Enterprising companies even created frozen dinners that only had to be popped into the oven to heat up while we consumed more and more of our time in front of the strange little boxes that so entertained us.

Of course my mother was far more circumspect about this marvelous new invention. We still had to eat homemade food at the kitchen table each evening and we were only allowed to watch one program per day. My father, on the other hand, was so fascinated that he often spent hours laughing hysterically at the comedies that were the bread and butter of those early days.

Eventually, of course, televisions became ever bigger and better as did the variety of what we might view. Color and high definition images allowed us to feel as though we were actually present in the places being shown. Today televisions are no longer just the domain of the family room. They might be found in any number of locations in the house. Interestingly, there are still channels that show the oldies from my youth and I have to admit that some of them are actually quite good even without all of the bells and whistles available today.

I am also from the time when writing a research paper for a particular class was a very complex process. It always required copious amounts of time spent in a library culling through a card catalog and leafing through dusty books and magazines. There were no copy machines or printers or computers or Internet or any of those things. Instead we came armed with index cards on which we hand wrote the information that seemed to be pertinent to our topic. It was tedious and time consuming and most often took place over a series of visits to several different libraries. So many sunny Saturdays and Sundays were spent inside windowless rooms searching for information.

Then came the writing process which was generally done on lined paper by hand. Editing involved scratching sentences and phrases out or using arrows to add ideas. It was a miracle if any of it was legible by the time that the typing began. Then the fun really started as we prayed that our fingers would hit the correct keys on the first strike. If we made a mistake it required carefully using whiteout fluid which the pickiest teachers didn’t want to see. I recall once taking more than twenty hours to complete the typing of a paper to the specifications of one of my professors. I don’t want to even discuss the problems associated with creating footnotes. Such memories send me into a state of unmitigated anxiety.

When computers with word processing software came along I felt as though I had died and gone to heaven. The ability to create a rough draft and then hone it until it was perfect was a godsend. When the Internet made research a more home bound project I was even more excited. A really coherent paper still required work in a library but even that was made more pleasurable with printers and copiers. The old index cards became almost obsolete. When I did use them it was to cut and paste printed pieces of information that was cogent. The new world order freed me from what had once been an odious task.

Now I have the capability of creating a blog while riding along the highway. I type away, able to correct my errors immediately. When I feel that my editing is complete I use the personal hotspot on my phone to get the wifi that I need in order to post my work. I can do this anywhere that I have cell phone coverage, which reminds me of yet another amazing device that we now mostly take for granted. Who knew that one day we would be able to carry a powerful tool like our cell phones in the palm of our hands? I still remember picking up the receiver of our home phone and hearing the conversation of a neighbor who was on the same party line as ours. We have come a long, long way.

The world is a truly amazing place and for those of us who have watched its evolution over the past many decades there is still a sense of awe at what we humans have managed to invent. I have seen so many things come to fruition that once seemed impossible. I now find myself believing that we haven’t yet seen the best of what is to come. Who knows what miracles will unfold in the coming years. If we go back and watch reruns of The Jetsons we might get a few ideas.

I wonder if we will all eventually get off of the grid, using energy sources like wind or solar as a matter of fact. Will there be flying cars? Will a pill or an operation cure mental illness? Will our adventures take us to destinations outside of our home planet? How will we live differently? Will we find newer and better ways of educating our young? It’s fun to imagine and to realize that we have probably only skimmed the surface of what is possible. I only hope that as we gain new insights into better living that we will also be conscious of our relationships with one another. We’ve never quite learned how to get along in total peace and harmony and maybe we never will, but it is nice to imagine what a cooperative world might be. If we can create wonderful things then we should also be able to conceive ideas that bring us more peace and security. We’ve been to the moon and back. Surely we can figure out how to bring harmony to our backyards. Every invention and idea began with a dream. Somewhere right now someone is thinking of the next big thing. We need to encourage anyone who mind works its way outside of the box to envision a better world. We can learn from looking back at the past but our focus should always be in moving forward. Our renaissance continues.

Purple Rain

purple-rain-3
Mike and I went to the Greater Houston Scout Fair on Saturday but didn’t get to stay long because it began to rain on us. Afterward we took a little tour of Houston, first driving into the Upper Kirby area and then through River Oaks. We had nothing pressing to do so we continued to meander along Allen Parkway and into downtown Houston. From there we drove along Navigation past my mom’s childhood home, around the turning basin of the Ship Channel and then down Broadway all the way to Hobby Airport.

Ironically I pointed out how placid Buffalo Bayou was on Saturday and thought of my mother’s stories of swimming in its waters when she was young. She often told me that the banks of that waterway were filled with native trees and plants and creatures of every sort back then. She and her brothers thought of it as a kind of paradise. On Saturday I bemoaned the fact that so many of our bayous have been desecrated with concrete walls. Our once beautiful ribbons of water are more like drainage ditches that don’t always function as well as we would like. Mike and I had a brief discussion about Braes, White Oak, and Sims bayous and the memories that we had of them from our own youths. I thought of how wonderful it would be if we were to return those areas to their natural state, creating lovely parks for the citizenry to enjoy. Continue reading “Purple Rain”

Saddle Oxfords and Loafers

57673c35aa639aa7978017349bd5007dMy mother was frugal by nature but when it came to purchasing school shoes for our feet money was no object. She often told us that such a luxury was impossible in her big immigrant family. As the youngest child she always wore hand-me-down shoes that were often so badly worn that there were gapping holes in the leather soles. Her mother cleverly inserted cardboard inside to keep them useful for a bit longer. Mama never complained about her childhood predicament but I suspect that it was a source of embarrassment for her. She rectified her own want by providing me and my brothers with sturdy, well fitting footwear that came from the finest makers of children’s shoes. In fact, we regularly visited the local Lippies’ Shoe Store where the parents of one of my classmates were maestros of quality procedures that insured that the shoes we purchased would hug our feet like soft gloves.

I appeared to have fallen arches so Mr. and Mrs. Lippies insisted that I wear oxfords with a steel support to hold my flat feet in the correct position. Finding just the right pair for me was a tedious process that often took well over thirty minutes of intense consideration of my physiological needs before the kindly owners of the store felt that I had the most perfect pair for my feet. Mostly the style never varied. Virtually every time that Mama bought me a new pair of shoes they were saddle oxfords that I might wear to school. I would then use them until I had outgrown them and my toes were pushing painfully at the edges. Continue reading “Saddle Oxfords and Loafers”

Looking Back

i282600889619493394._szw1280h1280_She was so beautiful that young men gazed at her longingly. They often asked me to intercede for them, put in a good word. She had many followers and suitors but before all of that she had been my friend. We shared secrets as young girls so often do. We dreamed together and plotted the direction of our futures. We both devised outsized plans, imagining that we would each somehow have a major impact on the world. We were inseparable and thought we would always be that way, but things changed, slowly at first and ultimately so rapidly that we began to feel uncomfortable when we were together. Our relationship unraveled as we moved almost in opposite directions and one day we found that we had little in common. Our conversations were stilted, unnatural. We were not angry. We didn’t have a fight. We simply had outgrown the childhood friendship that we once had. We parted without rancor.  Continue reading “Looking Back”