Occupational Aspirations

How can you not be happy when you have a student who, when she’s “grown up”, wants to be either a tooth fairy, or a cheeseburger?

Thank you God.  

Thank you for placing this wonderfully innocent personality in my class.

It's going to be a marvelous year!

seizure disorder

Note:  I haven’t written in a while, I think because until now I haven’t needed to write.  And maybe that’s a good thing.

seizure disorder

It’s been almost 22 years since the accident and closed head injury that nearly took my life…but things are still popping up. 

Since about the summer of 1993 I’ve been having these “things”, as I call them, and until now they have been a mystery. 

I can feel them starting and they’re a strange feeling that kind of moves over or through me like a wave.  It builds in intensity to a peak and then tapers off.  They feel like they last for 5 to ten minutes, but Melissa, who has witnessed more than one, tells me they only last for about 30 or 40 seconds.  

My speech comes out in nonsense words, yet I can tell I'm not making sense.   I can feel myself trying to communicate, I know what I want to say and I can even hear the correct words in my head, but the words that come out don’t make sense.  Not even to me.  Once I had one while teaching a math lesson and I kept teaching but I felt like I was saying everything twice.

After having these “things” every 3 to 6 months for almost 20 years, going to several doctors and having multiple MRI and EEG tests without results I had given up hope of ever getting a true diagnosis.   I had just gotten used to having them and moving on with the day.     

However, I recently had one while eating dinner with Melissa at home.  I felt it coming on and said, “One of those things is starting.” 

She started asking me questions.  “Can you count to 10?” “What year is it?”  “Who is the President?”

Honestly, I don’t remember if I could answer them.

She’s seen them before, but this one scared her.  That’s why I agreed to go to the doctor AGAIN, but I wasn’t expecting much. 

Long story short, Dr. Gerhardt found (after looking at my MRI for about 5 seconds) scarring on the left side of my brain that he said is causing a discharge.  I believe it is an electrical discharge of some kind.  I don’t know if it’s like a blackout or a power surge, but I intend to ask Dr. Gerhardt at my next appointment. 

The doctor also knew right away that these were seizures. 

It wasn't until he said that it's possible to die from these that I agreed to start taking seizure medication.  I'm only doing it for Melissa and Macy.

I don’t like it at all and I believe I’m still in denial. 

What I do know is that this is weighing heavily on my mind…thanks for listening.

Writing this is like therapy for me.  I’ll probably write more later.

i couldn't find any words that rhyme today

You know, I couldn’t find any words that rhyme today

And I don’t know if I care to look anymore

It’s strange, but part of me doesn’t care

It doesn’t care if I ever rhyme again

Rhyming suggests enjoyment

But rhyming is hard work

Hard work is therapy

This is therapy

Therapy is hard work

But rhyming is hard work

I don’t care if I ever rhyme again

It’s strange, but part of me doesn’t care

And I don’t know if I care to look anymore

I couldn’t find any words that rhyme today...you know

7 Days Left

Our year’s winding down,

And it has been long

I don’t quite know why,

It could be my new thong

But that’s not a matter,

That we should discuss

It’s not like I’m some old man,

Wearing a truss

A TRUSS?  What the hell? 

Where is my poem going?

There are too many words

And my mind’s overflowing

The year’s winding down,

Yes, yes now we’re on track

Now all that I need,

Is some catchy wise crack

A crack?  Aw HECK!

Now we’re back to the thong,

I’ve got to write something

Or things will go wrong

Not thongs, tightie-whities,

And not boxer briefs

I must write of school things,

To give some relief

I must shift my focus,

To matters of school

There are kids there are teachers,

And both topics are cool

Or the fact that ours days,

Are now down to seven

When you’re in single digits,

You know you’re in heaven

To get thoughts off my thong,

It seems best to say

Relax and breathe easy,

Cause it’s our last Monday!

20 Days Left...

Years ago I started writing poems and emailing them to my grade level and or school.  Somehow a kind of end of year countdown started a few years ago.  I don't do every single day, I write when I'm inspired.  


I decided to post them here.  At least some of them.

Enjoy,
Hugh

20 Days Left

There’s a chance it’s just me,

But you may feel it too

Our clocks move quite slowly,

Up one minute back two

Each year at about now,

Our odd time dance gets loose

You feel like your head,

Is stuck in a noose

We know the steps well,

Though it’s not a line dance

You Waltz or you Tango,

You boot-scoot and prance

What makes each dance hard,

It the students these days

They’re bodies all move,

In peculiar ways!

When I say things like that,

You all think I sound old

It’s a damn metaphor!

So read on and don’t scold

But just when you think,

Things have gone on too long

Your feet start to ache,

And you’d like a new song

CG’s voice pipes in,

And she starts with her schpeel   

Then the dance floor gets restless,

The excitement you feel

The band plays its last tune,

As you glide round the floor

Then you kick those small backsides,

Right out the front door

Then you rest and prepare,

For tomorrow’s swaray

I never said “booze,”

But you like it that way

For I say every word,

With a nod and a wink

And you know that it’s time,

For a rather large drink

Kim’s growing potatoes,

That we’ll use in fun ways

They’ll be ready to drink,

In just 20 days!

New Pool Toy

Yesterday, we got a new pool toy.

It didn't stay long, but it was fun while it lasted.

I'm trying to come up with a better name than "Donald".

Nude Beach

And so we’re on this cruise with St. Maarten as on of our ports.  I’ve been to St. Maarten before.  It’s a fun port with nice beaches.  Melissa and I decided to do an excursion called Rhino Rider.  Basically, a small, inflatable boat with an outboard motor.  It seats 2 and I drove with Melissa on the back. 

Our guide led the Rhino convoy of about 10-12 Rhinos. 

St. Maarten is a small island that is divided down the middle.  One side is French and the other side is Dutch. 

(Well, it’s not really the middle somehow the French cheated and their side is larger…but I digress)

We started on the Dutch side and our guide led us around and through the waterways over to a beach on the French side.  Before we left he made sure to let us know that the French side is a bit more open minded than the Dutch side.  And as such, is littered with clothing optional beaches, and that we shouldn’t be alarmed, or point, or laugh, or giggle when we see these free spirited bathers. 

My first thought was, “Hey, I’ll get to drive a fun boat and see some fun sights to boot.”

I was only half right.

Driving the boat was a blast!  I highly recommend it if you ever have the chance. 

As for the nude beach…

Well it was somewhat of a disappointment.  For you see, there were two couples enjoying the surf wearing nothing more that sunglasses and smiles.  However, they were also probably five years older than my parents and not in very good shape. 

I tried to avert my eyes, but I kept finding myself looking in their direction.  I don’t know why.  Maybe I was hoping I was wrong, maybe I was hoping someone easier to watch would join their party, maybe I was hoping they would put some clothes on.

Whatever the reason, next time someone says, “Nude Beach,” I’ll know not to get my hopes up.

           

Note to Mom and Dad:  In no way did I mean to imply that YOUR age should keep you away from a nude beach.  I’m sure you both will fit right in. 

            Just make sure I’m not around

Cruise2012

My daughter’s high school drill (The Lake Highlands Highlandettes) went on a Spring Break cruise to celebrate their 50^th year as a drill team.  The cruise was open to all current Highlandettes, all former Highlandettes and any parents who wanted to tag along. 

Melissa and I tagged along.

About 15 other parents tagged along with us and we all had a great time.  There were also a number of actual chaperones also on the ship, but for us it was really just a cruise that our daughter happen to be on as well. 

The cruise was really fun.  I ate too much, drank too much and got sunburned…

Like I said, the cruise was really fun!

I came home with a wee-bit of blog fodder.  (If that’s even a correct use of that word???) My plan is to write about several different fun and interesting parts of the cruise.   The parts I have in mind are:

·      Riding the Rain Forest tram

·      The crazy, death defying cab ride

·      My first, and hopefully my last, time on a nude beach (sorry no pictures!)

·      Nick, rum punch and the 4X4

·      Attack of the green monkeys

I may add to the list and I may combine two of them into one story.  Let’s just play it by ear. 

Remember, I said, “My Plan,” is to write about these events.  But I ain’t promising when!

I also don’t know what order I’ll write them in.   I'll figure that out later.

My hope is that putting this on-line will inspire me to write.

Let's see what happens

Hugh

Jury Duty Day

Jury Duty... It's a lot like dog duty, but without the unpleasant aroma.

Well, not unless my dog eats something pretty strange.

Educational Pit Stop

What I said:

“You can press the accelerator as hard as you want, but at some point your car’s not going to go any faster.  If you’re in a Ferrari you’re set, but if you’re driving a KIA you’ve got a long way to go…  Either way, if you always drive at your top speed, pretty soon you’re going to blow your engine!”

We were looking at the 2011-2012 Math TEKS (Texas Essential Knowledge and Skills) for grades K-6.  The TEKS tell us are what the state has decided we must be teaching.  It also lets us know what will be on the state’s new STAAR standardized test.

When I was in college studying to become a teacher the catchphrase “Developmentally Appropriate” was being tossed around like hash at the local diner.  Every lesson we planned and every activity put together had to take into consideration not only where the students are educationally, but also what they are developmentally ready understand. 

However, the more we looked at the TEKS we saw an all too familiar and disturbing trend.  Math skills that only two or three years ago were on fifth grade level, were now popping up at the fourth grade level.  And things from the fourth grade TEKS are now in the third grade TEKS, and so on and so forth. 

The real trouble is we have fat cats in Austin who have never met a child who wasn’t from a well to do, nurturing home.  So they can’t understand why EVERY child can’t just get the help he or she needs.  When you live in a home where your mother and father value education, and have the time and ability to help you understand your homework, then you are in luck… you’re also in the minority. 

The state, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that the way to fix its national educational rankings is to demand that elementary school students be instructed at developmentally inappropriate levels.  Each year the “rigor” of the required educational materials increases, and the same students fall farther and farther behind.  I’m sorry, but when you’re teaching pre-algebra to third and fourth graders there is something wrong. 

So, when does it end?

Do we start having all kindergarteners take the PSAT?  Maybe we can require preschoolers to pass a Play-do calculus exam.  Or wouldn’t it be better if we introduced improper fractions to a child in the uterus?      

If this were an Indy 500 race, every student would be in pretty much the same well tuned, ready to race vehicle.  But Texas’ students are looking more like a bunch of cars at the local drag strip.  Some of them are ready to race, but most are in desperate need of a pit stop. 

A Sudden Gush of Warmth

I love teaching for more reasons that I can name. 

When you are surrounded by young minds and young hearts who not only enjoy being around you, but also think you’re cool…well baby, you’ve got it made. 

When you’re at the grocery story and small bodies with large voices rush at you while screaming your name…you feel like a movie star.

When every joke you tell explodes the room with laughter… you start to believe you’re truly funny.

When a parent comes to you and says, “I’m an physics professor at SMU, but my son tells me I don’t understand how to divide correctly, can you help me?” … you know you’ve hit the big time.

When parents of former students who are now in high school see you in line at Starbucks, and jump up and pay for your coffee… you see you made a difference.  

When a high school senior, number six in his graduating class, asks you to come to the districts Top Ten Graduates Luncheon as his most influential teacher… you realize your life has been meaningful.

And finally, when a student walks up to talk and calls you “Dad”… you get a sudden gush of warmth in your heart. 

7 Degrees

It’s funny what a difference 7 degrees can make. 

If you have 7 degrees from universities, that boosts your credibility.

If you have 7 degrees less than 360, you don’t quite have a circle.

If you have 7 degrees lower on your thermostat, you’re sleeping in a cold room.

I came home from school last Wednesday (12/14/11) and noticed a slight chill in the air.  Thanks to our programmable thermostats, I just assumed it wasn’t’ time for the heat to come back on so I didn’t give it a second thought.  

I had been home a couple of hours when I realized something was wrong, and of course by this time it was almost 6:00pm, so there was no way to get anyone there before Thursday.

The repair guy, Ryan, shows up on Thursday (12/15/11) and discovers we have a bad blower motor.  Not a huge problem, fairly easy to replace, not too expensive.  However, they can’t find one Dallas, and it will have to be ordered.  Should be here in a week (12/22/11).  I’m sorry, but we live in Dallas, Texas.  This is a fairly large metropolitan area, and you’re telling me these guys can’t put their hands on a blower motor for a Lennox furnace???  Turns out… they can’t.

To our surprise it shows up on Monday (12/19/11).  Ryan comes back and spends, what seems like to me, a long time up in the attic.  When he reemerges he informs me that they sent the wrong motor.  It looks the same, but it is 240 volts and is designed for Canada’s electrical systems. 

It wasn’t too bad at first, but now we’re down in the 30’s. 

On Friday morning (12/23/11) our thermostat read 55 degrees.  And baby, it was cold.  I bought some space heaters and after about 30 minutes the temperature was at 62 degrees.  So I think we’re going to make it until next Tuesday (12/27/11).

Like I said, it’s funny what a difference 7 degrees can make. 

"coffee"

I wrote this poem for my school, but decided to share it...just to prove that I am still writing!

enjoy,
Hugh

"Coffee"

Our year is almost over, and it’s time for us to shout,
So lift your head, strap on a smile, there isn’t time to pout

We have a lot to do today, before we close the door,
So grab a cup of “coffee,” and down your gullet pour

Yes “coffee” is the PC term, for whatever soothes your pain,
Mrs. Lesher brews a tasty cup, too much you’ll go insane

With “coffee” cup in hand, spiked just the way you like,
It’s with a smile and sweet “Hello!” that we’ll greet every tike

Then any time the day gets hard, just grin and take a sip,
And let your “coffee” warm your soul, and try hard not to slip

For you’re on stage for one last show, the whole class watching you,
So keep your cup close by your side, it’s “coffee” through and through

You’ll play the role fantastically, and wait for curtain call,
Then stagger as you walk them out, and try hard not to fall

And as you wave goodbye to each you can almost hear them say,
“My teacher drinks Mrs. Lesher’s coffee every single day!”

So take your final nip of “coffee” at least until next year,
Have a safe and healthy holiday, that’s filled with “coffee” cheer!

A Day of 2's

I decided to write something brand new today,

But the darn number 2 just would not go away

I could not pinpoint why there was 2 on my brain,

The cause of this quandary I tried hard to gain

With 2 on my mind as I started to rhyme,

When I realized that 2 is not odd, yet it’s prime

And while that brought a smile to this poet’s cute face,

The idea of 2 I still could not erase

As my fingers keep pecking away at the keys,

I suddenly thought, “Hey!  I’ve got just 2 knees!”

I couldn’t keep 2 of things out of my head,

If I’d had big 2 guns, I might just be dead

2 hands and 2 thumbs where too much to bear,

2 ears and 2 eyes, but I just didn’t care

With 2’s all around me I was feeling shut in,

And that when 2 nightmares, they both did begin

2 feet, arms and elbows when would these 2’s stop?

2 left shoes, 2 right shoes Dragnet had 2 cops

My shirt’s missing 2 buttons, so I felt so confused,

If I had 2 narcotics, I think both would be used

I put my head down, feeling much like a fool,

When I suddenly realized, we’ve just 2 days of school!

My Left Shoe

I woke up yesterday morning and wrote this poem. 
It just came out of my head, and that's all the explanation I have.


enjoy,
Hugh

My Left Shoe

I woke up this morning, like I usually do,

And there was no trace of my silly left shoe

I searched and I searched, for what felt like a year,

But my shoe’s AOL, then I let out a cheer

For you see, no left shoe is a wonderful thing,

My mind started soaring, my heart it did sing

If I’ve got no left shoe, then possibilities are endless,

Without a left shoe, I can never be friendless

With my thoughts marching on, I advanced to the door,

I walked with a limp, my left foot touching floor

But that didn’t stop me, I couldn’t slow down,

The floor might be cold, but my face wouldn’t frown

Left shoe revelations were popping up fast,

There was no sign of ending, I knew they would last

My left foot unclothed, made the world come alive,

To feel the world’s wonders, I just had to stride

With my new worldly view, about to explode,

My heart held a message, that I had to unload

I searched for a pulpit, or someplace to speak,

My fingers shook hard, my knees getting weak

And when my left foot found a place it could stand,

I looked down to find my left shoe in my hand.  

Compensation Strategies

I don’ t know what it is about me that makes it extra hard for me to cope with difficult students.  Actually, I do know and it’s called a Closed Head Injury.  I’ve been running and hiding from that label for almost 22 years, but I’m not as young as I used to be and somehow it always seems to sniff me out.    

I think back to a time when I was deep in denial about the severity of my injuries.  I had doctors and therapists telling me that things like multitasking, problem solving and frustration tolerance were typically problem areas for Closed Head Injury survivors and I needed to learn some strategies to help me compensate.  I, however, would listen and think, “Yeah, but you don’t know me!  This may be how it is for your other survivors, but I’m atypical.” But I had no idea.

I have a couple of students this year who, for some reason, just seem to push all my buttons.  It’s driving me crazy.  Top that off with the fact that this time of year is hard for those very same students, and you have a lit bomb with a very short fuse.

For most of my students the Christmas season is fun.  They look forward to the usual things.  Time off from school, seeing family, more food than they can eat, lots of presents, but most of all time off from school.  I grew up in this world and it makes sense to me.  

I know there are other worlds out there, but they always seemed so far away.  I have to keep reminding myself that for some of my students time off from school means staying home alone.  It means no breakfast and no lunch and sometimes no diner.  It means no positive interactions with anyone.  It means watching TV and getting glimpses of what the holiday season means...just not for them.

In 1991, when I was in Cognitive Remediation Therapy working on compensation strategies for my stupid closed hear injury, nobody offered any compensation ideas for how to handle being face to face with a nine year old boy who is ignored at home unless he misbehaves.  And nobody gave me any strategies for compensating when you find a child who is saving empty food wrappers in her backpack.  And no one bothered to tell me that someday it would take every ounce of strength not to burst into tears. 

Yes, I have some students who are pushing my “compensation strategy” buttons on a daily basis. 

But maybe my buttons needed to be pushed.

School Shopping

We spent last weekend in Birmingham, Alabama and Greenville, South Carolina.  No, we weren’t on vacation, (although Greenville does have an amazing downtown!) the three of us were checking out a couple of universities for Macy.

I know what you’re thinking; “Hugh, you’re way too young to have a child who is old enough for college!”  And believe me, that is exactly what I’ve been thinking.  I mean it’s not like I’m a few days away from being 50 or something… but, I digress. 

First, we checked out Samford University in Birmingham.  We were all blown away.  They rolled out the red carpet for us.  The three of us got to sit in two different classes and took a very detailed tour of the campus.  We loved it.

Next, we went to Furman University in Greenville.  Before our trip, I happen to have mentioned to a couple of people that we were going to see Furman.  And each person said the same thing.  “You’re going to love how beautiful it is!”  I would just nod in agreement and go about my business.  I mean how beautiful can it be?  Really? 

Let me go on record here and say, I was, nay, we were amazed.  When you look at it online, it does not do it justice.  If you ever find yourself in Greenville, SC do yourself a favor and stop by for a quick peek.  It’s worth the effort.

We were at Furman on a Saturday, so going to class wasn’t an option, however we had an informative tour, learned great deal and went away happy to have made the trek.  Plus!  We were given a very interesting bumper sticker.  Scroll down and see what you think.

Both of the schools are small liberal arts universities that specialize in faculty and student interaction as the basis of a quality education. 

Where will Macy end up matriculating?  Your guess is as good as mine, but for now we’re having fun shopping.

Furman University...that's the first thing I thought of too!

Unexpected

A fifth grade boy at my school passed away last Wednesday night.  Yesterday was a hard day at my school.   If you pray, please say a prayer for his family and his very shaken and confused classmates.  At their age, elementary school students shouldn’t have to be asking these kinds of “why” questions.

Thanks

Hugh

If the Walls Could Talk

I’ve written before about the strange and stupid things that have popped out of my mouth while teaching.  And you’d think after almost 20 years of teaching (damn, I’m old!) that I’d have developed some kind of verbal 10-second delay mechanism to help filter my words.  Sadly either that option wasn’t available back in 1964 when I was born, or my parent decided not to pay for the upgrade.  

Whatever the case, I find that every two to three years I’ll be in the hallway with my class after recess and I’ll shout something like, “Boys!  Keep your balls in your hands!” And the whole class explodes in laughter.  Teacher included.

However, this isn’t about something I said, but rather about something I heard.  

Last week I had taken my class to music and I was headed back to my classroom, when I walked by a kindergarten class taking a restroom break.  

I was waving to and high-fiving some of the brothers and sisters of students in my class as they sat in the hall.  (As the only male teacher, I enjoy a kind of celebrity status at my school, and I can’t ignore my fans)  I had just passed the class when from behind me I heard the teacher, in a very calm tone, say, “Steven, is that where your pants belong?”

A smile spread across my face as I fought the temptation to turn around and gawk.  I just walked back to class happy to have been at the right place at the right time.

I’ve been at Moss Haven Elementary for 13 years.  And baby, if the walls could talk...I bet they’d tell some funny stories. 

Gary Update

On the first day of school I barged into Gary’s class (I set this up with the teacher ahead of time) and pointed straight at Gary.  

“Get out in the hallway young man, and you know exactly why!” I barked.

You could have heard a pin drop and all eyes were bouncing between Gary, his new teacher and me.  Looking a little startled, Gary shot a glance back to his teacher.  “You better do as he says,” And Gary followed me into the hall.

I turned around in the hallway and Gary had a grin from ear to ear.  “You’re just trying to fool me. I’m not really in trouble!  And he gave me a hug.  

We’ve had two weeks school, and I haven’t seen anything but a smile on Gary’s face.  This boy who was so cold and closed off has become a whole new person.  It is as if Gary has given himself permission to be a child again.  

According to his teacher, Gary has friends, is working hard and doing a good job.  School isn’t just a place his mother makes him go anymore, it’s a place he enjoys.  And as a teacher, that’s my biggest goal.  Students who enjoy being at school have fun learning.  And when you’re having fun learning…the possibilities are endless.

I do my best to check on Gary each day.  I told him to come see me if he needs anything, and we’ll figure it out. 

Gary should be proud.  

He’s come a long way.