Lambs to Lions

I always wanted to be a father.  There was a time when I did not think that was going to happen; but, luckily, after some heartbreaking attempts it finally happened; February 15, 1995, Caitlin arrived.  Her birth changed my life; completely, I was responsible for another human being.  I have told the story before how prior to Caitlin’s birth I was never really afraid, but how I have been afraid every day since her birth.  I loved her from the moment our eyes met; I knew that I would give up all my next breaths for her to breathe one more time.  When she was young she was so guarded; looking at her photos she never really smiled big in her photos.  We found our bond over softball.  I started coaching her when she was 6 years old and would spend three seasons a year with her for the next 10 years.  The wins and losses have faded away, but I miss throwing and side tossing to her.  Today she has so many of my traits in her; she is direct and sometimes struggles to filter what comes out of her mouth, but she works so hard and has a genuine love for kids.  I think her time as a Tecumseh counselor really showed her love of kids; she was one of the counselors that made kids forget about the terrible weather and just have a good time.   Now, she is on the transition away from her parents having completed her first year of college.  Where ever she goes she will carry a part of my heart with her.

On July 10, 1996 our family added my Irish beauty Ally.  She is not her sister and somehow she and I bonded over our love of music.  The picture of  us on the roof of my school during a fundraiser to put a teacher on the roof is my favorite.  As a child, Ally was sickly from milk allergies; it was during that time that we spent a lot of time together.  I would hold her a lot trying to bring her comfort.  As a child she had so much personality that she brought a smile to everyone’s face who got to witness a show from the bricks in front of the fireplace.  Now Ally was not destined to be an athlete; she hated the sun and sweating was not her thing; even though she was really good at setting up the snacks for the after game celebrations.  As Ally aged she discovered that she could sing and there is nothing I love more at the high school than their music programs.  It is in the performing arts that she has found a home at the high school.  I love watching every performance and musical that she has performed; when she is on stage my eyes stay focused on her (waiting for the *wink* when she finds me in the audience).  Now Ally wants to follow her father into teaching (she has a love kids); I would love for her to go into a STEM career field as she is math bright, but she needs to follow her heart.

I have been blessed by my two children. It has not always been easy, but my heart has never been so filled with love.

Omitting the 2004 Boston Red Sox from a Summer of Thanks for anyone born in New England and raised on the radio voices of Curt Gowdy and Ned Martin would be tantamount to living in New England and rooting for the Yankees AND the Jets.  *shudder* My love the Red Sox started at the age of 8 with the 1967 Impossible Dream Red Sox.  That magical year carried me into the cocoon of Red Sox Nation (before it became trendy).  Like everyone else around my age, my favorite players were Carl Yastrzemski and Jim Lonborg.  I remember listening to the radio under my covers past my bedtime, Curt and Ned painted a clear picture of the pennant race to me.  Of course, no one told me that when the magical run ended with a Game 7 loss to Bob Gibson’s St. Louis Cardinals that I needed to assume the “Curse of the Bambino” for the next three decades.  So many close calls after that; the 1972 strike season when the Sox finished 1/2 game behind the Tigers and played one less game due to the strike, 1975 World Series loss in Game 7, the 1978 Bucky “#$%^&*” Dent home run in the one-game playoff game, the 1986 World Series loss that featured the Bill Buckner error in Game 6, and the 2002 playoff loss to the Yankees in Game 7 (aka the Grady Little game).  Every year started with “The Red Sox having not won a World Series since selling Babe Ruth to the Yankees, blah, blah, blah”.

Of course Yankee fans loved to taunt the Red Sox faithful with the “Curse of the Bambino”.  I hated them so much; still do, I am known as a slow forgiver.  That all changed in 2004.  I remember walking over to one of my Northland Street friends house after the terrible 19 – 8 loss in Game 3 and hearing it again; from Colt fans, in a town without a baseball team!  Ridiculous!  Then the comebacks started, highlighted by Dave Roberts’ steal and the Bill Mueller’s hit off Mariano Rivera (who the Red Sox own by the way), the big hits by Big Papi in Games 5 and 6, and, finally, crushing the Yankees in Yankee Stadium in Game 7.  I had reason to hope, but standing in their way were those St. Louis Cardinals; the team from my youth.  Suddenly, after 3 straight wins the Red Sox were on the cusp of victory in Game 4 in St. Louis and there I was on my hands and knees in front of the TV rocking back and forth wearing the string bracelet that Caitlin had made for me for luck around my wrist.  They won.  Game 4.  A World Series victory.  The curse over.  I was crying (shocking to those that know me) and talking to my old friend, Bill Cassidy who at 80 years of age claimed the Sox were going to put him in the grave.  Suddenly, the world was in its greased groves (a little literacy reference).

The Sox have won two more World Series since that time in 2007 and last year, but none are as sweet as that 2004 Red Sox team.

My Summer of Thanks would not be complete if there was not an acknowledgement of the man that took a chance on hiring a 37-year-old first-year teacher.  Roger Norris was the principal at Hamilton Southeastern Junior High School when I student taught there in 1995.  I was impressed that Roger took time with me during my student teaching; I can only imagine the number of student teachers that he had experienced in all his years as a principal and, yet, he took time to give me a teacher evaluation and sit down with me to talk about what he observed.  It meant a lot to me.  One thing that the military impressed on to me was the importance that leadership played in the success of an organization.  Roger was, in every way, an educational leader; he acted in the talent show (swinging on a vine during the Guitarzan lip sync (taught me the importance of being human in front of kids), he supported me in every thing I wanted to try in the classroom, and he would listen and guide; instead of dictate and tell.  On the day he called and offered me a job, Laurel and I were entertaining options of what happens next; Roger’s decision to take a chance on me made that decision easy; we stayed in Fishers, instead of going back to Colorado.  He also was instrumental in pairing Tony Sturgeon and me with Steve Baney on the Globetrotter team.   When an English position opened on the Globetrotter team a couple weeks before school opened, Tony and I pitched to Roger for Tony to take the English position (Tony’s minor) and hire Maureen Randall (she will come later in my Summer of Thanks) in Tony’s vacated social studies position.  Pairing us with Steve Baney would set in motion and define my teaching identity.

My Summer of Thanks goes to a FJH name from 15 years ago.  The Davidson family sent three girls (Rachel, Randa, and Rhea) through our building in the early days of FJH, but the reason he makes my Summer of Thanks is that he taught me how to be a youth coach.  Many years ago our dear neighbor’s, Steve and Diane Hamer, oldest daughter, Stephanie, played softball for Rance.  I went to one of her games and there was Rance coaching at third.  His voice carried all over the field, but it was the tone of his voice.  He only cheered; everything was positive, and he laughed; a lot.  I loved watching him coach, he would have been influential if he limited his cheering to just his team; he did not.  He cheered for both teams; his team more, but both teams none the less.

I coached girls for 10 years and tried to be positive dealing with both my team and the other.

My parents have received their child’s ISTEP results in the past week and before I get sent the information by the district there are a couple things I need to get off my chest.

1.  I make no effort, at any level, to prepare my students for the ISTEP test.  Okay, I said it; it is written in the ‘verse, “nothing can stop the signal Mal”.  Before the “accountability police” send the black helicopters and brand me a “brown coat”  Wow, two Firefly references in one paragraph. I have my reasons.

2.  After serving on two Indiana DOE ISTEP committees to try and improve the test, I reached the conclusion that the test was too wide and contained no depth.  Therefore in the end, the test measures nothing of importance and only takes time away from teaching what is really important.

3.  In reality, the test serves no purpose.  It is impossible to measure growth since it is a test in isolation; meaning that there is nothing to compare the data.  Therefore, there is no way to know if any number is good or bad.  If a student gets a pass-plus, it could mean an improvement or a regression.   The only purpose the SS test serves is to transfer money that should go to the schools to a for profit company and those in government that except the company’s graft.

4.  Honestly, if my kids pass at an 80% that would be about what I would expect.  In fact, I would be leery of any school that scores too high on the SS ISTEP, because that means they spend too much time on things on things with no long-term value and too little time on what should be the taught.  I choose to focus on analysis and thinking; and building within my students curiosity and confidence to take on tough tasks.

5.  I am confident that the best measurement of my student’s learning is still the grade that they received in my class.

You are aware of the difference between lions and lambs if you have been connected to my class.  If not, here is the Reader Digest version: All students walk into my room as lambs (cute, fuzzy, and academically defenseless), about 1/3rd of them will become lions (cute, fuzzy, and academically proven).  I am eternally hopeful by my nature so I offered all of my students from the last year a chance to be “Summer Lion” by completing a series of challenges this summer.

The assignments are not hard and they somewhat relate to our year together.  The first assignment is to watch four TED talks.  I love TED talks and probably showed 5 or 6 of them to my students during the school year.  Next, I wanted them to play in an unorganized way, it corresponds with my instructions to them over breaks and the summer; be a kid and play. I make a simple request for my babies to read one book; I would really like them to read two, but anything is better than nothing.  We talked a lot about increasing human capital and their next task was learn a new skill; or, at least, try to learn a new skill.  The last assignment was for them to make their bed 30 times over the course of the summer; this was inspired by our former math team member who had a “make your bed” contest.  The idea is to be faithful and accomplish one thing every day.  I will make “Summer Lion” buttons for every kid who turns in a completed sheet on preview day.  

My next thank you goes to my mother’s parents; Bamp (the grandkid’s name for our grandfather) and Grammy Lunney.  I loved their little house in Westfield, Maine.  It was the safest place on earth to me.  Bamp taught me to play cribbage and cared nothing about your self-esteem; in cribbage if you don’t count all your points, the other person can take the points; Bamp would take my points, even when I was 7 and 8.  It taught me to pay attention.  My grandfather was a hard-working man of Irish descent, I think in many ways he passed that trait down to his children, which in turn was passed down to me.  His steadiness in my early life filled a void.  He died too young from complications from a car accident where he suffered carbon monoxide poisoning.  I will never forget getting the news when I was stationed at Cannon AFB in New Mexico.  My grandmother is still remembered in my family as a great cook.  Her cinnamon rolls were my FAVORITE thing she made; closely followed by her homemade donuts.  She doted on her grandkids and loved them without limit.  Gram was a reader and a night owl.  She loved old movies and television.  I loved the safety that I always felt at their house as a kid.  The picture below is me and Gram in 1959.