Shakespeare amongst the Maples

I am reminded that learning is not just about books and academic subjects — Life itself is a constant lesson and, unfortunately often Life lessons are painful.  For me, perhaps the hardest part of being a mother is watching/re-experiencing those painful lessons as my children encounter them. It would be so nice to hold out my own learning and say ‘Here, take this, it won’t hurt as much.’ But, of course, that is not the way that Life lessons are learned. The best I can do, as a parent, as a person, is to be there, to hold a hand, to wipe away tears, to offer loving arms while my child learns.  Knowing that does not make any of it easier. I wish something did.

One thing I have learned as I have grown older is that compassion for others is an under-appreciated, rarely offered gift. People generally find it easier to offer judgment than compassion. The first has the advantage of placing the Judger in a position of power, authority and immunity from pain. The latter requires empathy, an understanding and recognition of the other person’s essential humanity. ‘Walk a mile in my moccasins’ is not a popular past time. Too painful, too scary.  But it seems to me that if this world and the human race are to survive, we really MUST step into those other shoes. We cannot allow ourselves to be anesthetized to the pain of those around us. It is very human to try to avoid pain but to hide from the pain of others, is to hide from others and that is not living.

That said, as a mother, I wish I could ease the pain my children experience.  Sometimes I fear for my sons: both are extremely empathetic and they absorb the pain of those around them to an alarming degree. Both want so desperately to heal the injuries of the world but they lack, as yet, the experience and wisdom to know what they can do and what they cannot.  And, of course, pain untreated can turn into rage — rage at the helplessness they feel, rage at the source of the pain. Another lesson, then: Anger is the path to the dark side.  In truth, I think that that may have been the most powerful moment in the Star Wars series, when Anakin, mad with grief, seeks out and destroys all the Sand People, the people who tortured and killed his mother.  When he wakes from his grief induced madness, he wakes in horror at what he has done. That moment is crystalline. It has mostly been ignored by the watchers of the film. Most concentrate on Anakin’s conversion to Darth Vader and enjoy the wild ride… but the lesson is there, just as it is in ‘Frankenstein’. Both Victor F. and Anakin want to save and protect. Both are driven by a sense of grief and rage at what they perceive as their weakness and failures. Both seek Power, hoping to use it well. But Gandalf the Grey recognized what they did not: Power tempts.  There is that moment, in the first book of the Ring Cycle where Frodo offers Gandalf the ring:

Frodo: Take it!
Gandalf: No, Frodo.
Frodo: You must take it!
Gandalf: You cannot offer me this ring!
Frodo: I’m giving it to you!
Gandalf: Don’t… tempt me Frodo! I dare not take it. Not even to keep it safe. Understand, Frodo. I would use this ring from a desire to do good… But through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine.

Gandalf’s wisdom is resisting the temptation of power is something we all need to practice. Too many times, when we are given that power over another, we uses it abusively — all the while thinking that we are doing it for the well being of the one we control. But how is a parent to know when to step back, to let his/her child stumble and fall and get scraped and bruised, to allow them to rage and cry and recover all on their own? That is the issue I struggle with — fighting to find a balance between protectiveness and doing harm by stopping my child’s growth. Ah well, perhaps I shall re-read The Hobbit: 70th Anniversary Edition and The Lord of the Rings: 50th Anniversary, One Vol. Edition and get their take on the subject. Grin. They always provide me with unusual perspectives…

I don’t know about anyone else but I am an inveterate storyteller — and the stories my children love to hear (and the ones they actually REMEMBER) are stories from my childhood.

In these stories, certain characters appear over and over. My brothers, for example, ‘loom large in my legend’ (to paraphrase George Harrison). But the person who has my attention today was a teacher I knew many, many years ago. His name, as far as I knew it, was Mr. Chick and he was my teacher at Sharon Elementary school in Sharon. Massachusetts in 1976. The year is memorable for any number of reasons, not the least being that it was the bi-centennial in Massachusetts and that meant re-enactments of every kind. But it was also memorable because of the friends I made (Hi, Hilary! Hi, Martha!) and because of Mr. Chick.

My sons love to hear HOW Mr. Chick taught — and really, anyone who teaches can take a lesson from him. He brought joy and excitement and an element of play into what could otherwise have been deadly dull.

For example — we needed to learn the Preamble to the Constitution and the first ten Amendments. Many of my generation probably remember it from Schoolhouse rock and I admit, that did reinforce the Preamble for me. (Grin). But Mr. Chick had his own approach: He turned it into a marching chant. At the time, he was team teaching with Mrs. Borenstein and they shared a small building with two classrooms divided by a hall. He had us learn the Preamble then marched us out of his classroom and in through hers, shouting the Preamble as loudly as we could. We loved it… though I am not sure what she thought about it!

He did more than that though: when recess came, he PLAYED with us. There was a game called ‘Four Square‘ which involved four players, a red bouncy ball, and a square divided into four smaller squares. Everyone in the whole school knew the basic rules but for us, privileged children of Mr. Chick/Mrs. Borenstein’s class, we knew ‘Chick’s rules’. Perhaps my funniest memory of that game was the time Mr. Chick was playing with a bunch of us. He bounced the ball so hard that it flew out of control and hit… a school window. The crack was so loud that everyone on the playground froze. Everyone but Mr. Chick: “RUN!” he yelled, waving his arms and like obedient children, we fled the scene of the crime… Laugh. I do not know what happened with the window in the end but we were all quite pleased to keep his secret.

He took us on a nature hike once, out just beyond the school grounds. He had mentioned, several times, that we should stay on the path. Of course, once we were out in the green world, several of the boys decided to plunge off and explore. Raising his voice only slightly, Mr. Chick called ‘And just watch out for Poison IVY!’ The boys returned to the path faster than they had left it… I don’t think anyone left the path after that. When we returned to the classroom, he taught us about Poison Ivy, Poison oak and Poison sumac. It was an amazingly effective lesson.

My sons’ favorite story, by far, though is of a rather different caliber. Imagine a group of school children in the basement of an old school building. It is nearing the end of the year and the temperatures are rising. The room, dedicated to teaching children typing, is stifling hot and the young teacher (A separate ‘typing’ teacher had come over from the ‘Big’ school to teach us.) has thrown open the windows in an attempt to get some air in the room. All the children are melting, dragged down by the heat and no one, including the teacher, is getting much accomplished. Suddenly the door is FLUNG open and Mr. Chick, shining in the sunlight yells ‘FLEE, Children! BE FREE!’ He holds the door open and children, at first stunned, then delighted, flood past him into the outer world. A last glimpse of the wilted typing teacher shows her gaping at the scene, too hot to even think up a protest.

Mr. Chick taught but he did more than that. He shared joy with us and made the process of learning something more like play and less like punishment. He is no longer with us, and for that, I grieve. But he left me, at least, with a powerful memory — of what teaching SHOULD be, how it CAN be done, and how truly joyful it can make the learning  process. Thank you, Mr. Chick.

Have you ever had a discussion with your child on the subject of ‘Free Will’? I cannot say that I have ever ‘directed’ a conversation on that topic with my sons but they have listened, and participated, in such a discussion with myself and my husband. On that memorable occasion, we were debating the problem of free will, omnipotence and omnipresence and my husband, raised a Catholic and product of a Jesuit college, said firmly, ‘When the subject came up in school, the priest’s response was simple: When God gave man free will, he CHOSE to surrender omnipotence.’ This was in response to my comment that I couldn’t understand how man could have free will, behave badly — get into pain and suffering, and be allowed to do so. As a parent who dearly loves her children, I couldn’t IMAGINE watching a child heading into disaster without trying to stop or redirect it. If God was indeed a loving God and parent, how then could this be possible? My husband’s answer — to his mind, allowed for a loving God who willing surrendered the power to protect. This conversation was taking place in the car on the way to Gymnastics and my husband had, cleverly, timed his comment to coincide with our arrival at our destination. The subject, I thought, was closed.

I should have known better.

Several WEEKS, not days, not hours, but WEEKS afterwards, I was having a vocal struggle with my six year old. He wanted to do something that I considered dangerous and I had said ‘NO!’ In frustration, he finally stormed “I BELIEVE IN FREE WILL AND I WANT MINE!” Snort. It is a good thing that I have lived with this roller coaster since his birth, I retorted ‘Well, I am not God and so cannot afford to give up that power. The answer is “No!” To say that I ‘won’ the argument would be overly optimistic. He didn’t do what he wanted to do but I have no doubt that the subject of Free Will will come up again. To that end, I am now working up a ‘lesson plan’ on the subject of Free Will and Responsible application thereof… Grin.

Okay, before you begin shuddering in fear at the mention of the big bad TV, I should clarify: I am not talking about WATCHING television — quite the opposite. I am talking about using the IDEA of television as a tool for teaching…

You might well ask – WHAT could the idea of Television teach? The answer is best given by illustration.

You see, we did succumb to the lure of the blue box: My husband wanted to watch World Cup Soccer and my sons were hooked on a mystery series called “Tower Prep”. But the World Cup ended and so too did “Tower Prep”(without ever answering the questions it had raised).  And then my sons discovered the HORRIBLE truth: There was nothing else to watch on T.V.  ”The ads” said Xander, “are the best thing on!’ But Jason and Xander are not the sort to surrender easily. Rather than simply toss the idea of T.V. (and they are still enamored of the idea) they decided to create their OWN television shows.

The ideas they have generated to this point include 1) Xander’s ‘The story of pretty much Nobody” ( “Four kids live with their Dad. Dad is never home because he is always off job hunting and mom died four years ago so… the kids wander around in the wilds of their backyard/neighborhood having ‘kid-like’ adventures — falling into pits and finding velociraptor skeletons. That kind of thing.”) and Jason’s “Adventures of Captain Wavy Cape” based on the book/comic strip he wrote when he was five.

Now, I am a homeschooling mom so this screams ‘teachable moment’ — I agreed that making our own TV shows was a good idea. I suggested that we work as if we were professionals. We will:

1)create a story board. There is also a site called Jacob Lawrence Whitney which offers not only several Storyboard formats but also offers instruction on how to animate using Powerpoint.

2)sketch up story lines/plots

3) create a cast/character list including pictures of said characters. (I found another form here: Edhelper.com)

4)Then we will write dialogue. I found a handout on writing a TV script which looks quite interesting and useful.

5)and either animate the stories or cast the roles. There is a site that allows you to animate online. We will try that, I think, though I really would rather try out the suggestions from an animator over at Pixar. He offers instruction at ‘Tricks to Animating Characters on the Computer‘.

Laugh. Oh, this does sound like a fun project! Think I may have to try my own hand at creating a ‘television’ show!