As our kids have gotten older and their schedules more complex, dinnertime has become a much needed and enjoyable time to reconnect with them. As both boys have sharp memories and keen minds, the conversations have become increasingly diverse and complex. We've discussed (well, okay, the guys did) the results of C's latest math test, history, chemistry, botany, cooking, etc. Last night was not one of those times:
E: Hey, what happened to that preschool by your mom's house? Part of it was demolished; I saw one of those big, construction machines out front.
C: It's a back hoe...
E: You would think I'd remember that by now, considering I see them used all the time.
C: ...As opposed to a front hoe.
Me: Or a ho-ho.
E: Like the Hostess ones wearing a Robin Hood hat.
C: Ho-hos are mostly used near the Poles. There are high-hos.
Me: And hidy hos.
T: Or tally hos.
Some discussion, instigated and mostly participated in by E, followed regarding whether or not anyone with the last name Ho would actually give any of their children names such as "Tally" or "High". He decided that "hidy" spelled "Heidi" would be the most appropriate. By this time, the eating part of dinner was over and they were rolling tiny magnetic balls around the table and manipulating them into shapes; it must be a testosterone-driven thing because as much as I find the shapes they create interesting, I have no burning desire to try it myself. Yet another opportunity for intelligent conversation:
E: You know, a whole bunch of these little balls could be stuck together to make a chain mail shirt.
C: It would be too heavy, it wouldn't stay together.
Me: A magnetic "chain mail" bolero jacket then.
E: Or a chain mail bikini!
Me: Maybe just the bikini top.
T: Because the bottom would chafe...*silence around the table*...Well, that's what I heard!
With this kind of meaningful discourse, who needs dessert? :-)
Friday, March 18, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Sometimes Love is Not a Many Splendored Thing
Last week I asked my psychology students if they could remember the last time they looked their parent, guardian or other family member in the face and said, "I love you." In each class, perhaps 4-5 students could pinpoint the last time but only 1-2 of them had done it within the past month; the class range was all over the place--anything from a few months ago to "Uh, years," as one of my boys stated. Yet when I asked them to identify the last time they criticized someone, even jokingly, a whole bunch of hands went up. Most of them had done it within that day, some within an hour of our class. Including me.
We did two follow-up assignments. For the first, everyone took out a sheet of paper and wrote their names across the top. I did one, too. We sat in a circle and passed the papers around. Each time we got a new paper, we had to write something positive about the paper's owner. At first, the kids complained; they claimed that they didn't know EVERYBODY in the class well enough to write on every paper. It was silly, they said. Like camp, someone moaned.
I can't believe they actually thought they had a choice! I started writing on the sheet in front of me and the students gradually followed suit. At first, I noticed the comments on the papers that came my way were brief: "You're nice" or "You have a cute shirt." It reminded me of my 7th grade yearbook. At least no one wished anyone else a "great summer" or hoped they'd "see them again next year"! Anyway, within a fairly short period of time, the comments began to expand: people recounted specific events they shared with that person, a talent they observed, took note of a friendly smile or an engaging sense of humor. The silence grew until all that was heard were the rustling of papers and the scratching of pens. Some of my students were unconsciously smiling as they wrote or even looking speculatively across the circle at a classmate they probably never bothered contemplating before.
When the activity was over and we had all written our piece, we read the comments. Hardly a word was spoken but smiles were breaking out all over the classroom. Some of the students had not signed their comments and I could tell that the papers' owners were trying to match the comments with the writers. Nearly all of the on-line reflections for the next few days raved about the activity and how good the comments made them feel. Many of the students never realized what other people noticed about them. Many said they would always keep the paper where they could see them as a positive reminder for bad days. The newly found sense of camaraderie extended beyond the papers. Today I noticed several people having a laughing conversation during recess; before last week, I had never seen them exchange anything more than a quick hello.
The second follow-up assignment was not nearly as successful. I challenged my students to look their parent, guardian, or other family member straight in the eye and tell them, "I love you." Students were then supposed to record the person's reaction and reflect upon the reasons why. It was not surprising that the few students who previously could remember when they last expressed their love to their parents got the most natural response: "Hey, I love you, too." In their families, expressions of love are often and freely given.
For too many of the students, the reciprocal response was not to be. Though some parents expressed surprise and did respond in kind, the majority either (1) laughed, (2) asked "What do you want?", (3) assumed there was some kind of trouble, or (4) ignored the statement completely. The students' reflections upon their families' reactions were remarkably forgiving, as well as perceptive; verbal love is not something their family did, some said, it was more important that love be shown through positive acts. Others defended their relatives' negative responses; it came out of nowhere, they said, if it's not commonly done, it's hard to know how to respond.
Some students who found the exercise difficult did express concern that if they had never been exposed to verbal expressions of love, they would never be able to model it for their own children. It made these particular students more determined than their classmates to take the time to express appreciation and affection to others. I think that's a lesson well-learned.
We did two follow-up assignments. For the first, everyone took out a sheet of paper and wrote their names across the top. I did one, too. We sat in a circle and passed the papers around. Each time we got a new paper, we had to write something positive about the paper's owner. At first, the kids complained; they claimed that they didn't know EVERYBODY in the class well enough to write on every paper. It was silly, they said. Like camp, someone moaned.
I can't believe they actually thought they had a choice! I started writing on the sheet in front of me and the students gradually followed suit. At first, I noticed the comments on the papers that came my way were brief: "You're nice" or "You have a cute shirt." It reminded me of my 7th grade yearbook. At least no one wished anyone else a "great summer" or hoped they'd "see them again next year"! Anyway, within a fairly short period of time, the comments began to expand: people recounted specific events they shared with that person, a talent they observed, took note of a friendly smile or an engaging sense of humor. The silence grew until all that was heard were the rustling of papers and the scratching of pens. Some of my students were unconsciously smiling as they wrote or even looking speculatively across the circle at a classmate they probably never bothered contemplating before.
When the activity was over and we had all written our piece, we read the comments. Hardly a word was spoken but smiles were breaking out all over the classroom. Some of the students had not signed their comments and I could tell that the papers' owners were trying to match the comments with the writers. Nearly all of the on-line reflections for the next few days raved about the activity and how good the comments made them feel. Many of the students never realized what other people noticed about them. Many said they would always keep the paper where they could see them as a positive reminder for bad days. The newly found sense of camaraderie extended beyond the papers. Today I noticed several people having a laughing conversation during recess; before last week, I had never seen them exchange anything more than a quick hello.
The second follow-up assignment was not nearly as successful. I challenged my students to look their parent, guardian, or other family member straight in the eye and tell them, "I love you." Students were then supposed to record the person's reaction and reflect upon the reasons why. It was not surprising that the few students who previously could remember when they last expressed their love to their parents got the most natural response: "Hey, I love you, too." In their families, expressions of love are often and freely given.
For too many of the students, the reciprocal response was not to be. Though some parents expressed surprise and did respond in kind, the majority either (1) laughed, (2) asked "What do you want?", (3) assumed there was some kind of trouble, or (4) ignored the statement completely. The students' reflections upon their families' reactions were remarkably forgiving, as well as perceptive; verbal love is not something their family did, some said, it was more important that love be shown through positive acts. Others defended their relatives' negative responses; it came out of nowhere, they said, if it's not commonly done, it's hard to know how to respond.
Some students who found the exercise difficult did express concern that if they had never been exposed to verbal expressions of love, they would never be able to model it for their own children. It made these particular students more determined than their classmates to take the time to express appreciation and affection to others. I think that's a lesson well-learned.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Time Flies When You're Not Paying Attention!
Last February I remember thinking that the year was off to a slow start and the next thing I knew, it was the beginning of December and I was trying to figure out where the heck the year had gotten to. Well, it's already March and rather than procrastinate a few more months, I decided to start early...in wondering, where the heck has the year gotten to?
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