This block ends. Now
What we learned:
There is a lot of talk now about what school should be, what should be taught, when it should be taught, how long the school year should go. There is a lot of respect for teachers and a lot of misunderstanding...and a lot of resentment towards teachers.
I have a lot to say on this and it's going to take a lot of just writing....a lot of backspacing and deleting. I will simply start with what WE learned. When I was in school, we learned:
We learned to play. If the swings were occupied, we played on the slide, and if that was full, we played on merry-go-round. If that was full...we played kickball, and if we didn't get picked, it was not the end of the world. We went to a different part of play ground and kicked the ball with someone else. We dug in the sand pits, making tunnels, and at the end of recess we either filled them in or left them for later recesses. What we did not do was complain that we didn't get picked for this team or that team. We didn't complain that someone else got to swing longer, or their tunnel was better than ours. This was recess, and there was simply no time to worry about feelings and self-esteem.
We learned to eat dirt. Or sand. That's right. Eat dirt or sand. I don't mean we went out and spooned up gobs of the stuff and forced it down our throats to see who could last longer, although we did that from time to time as well. We ate dirt and sand because we were kids, and that's what kids did from time to time. We didn't always wash our hands. And in the process of not washing our hands every time we came in contact with dirt, dust, sand, door knobs, rusty hinges, and grimy cement floors, something else happened. We got sick, and then...we got better. Our immune systems grew, we developed antibodies, and we became more resilient. We got better, we got stronger...but we didn't wash our hands with antibacterial mucous every 20 minutes.
We learned when an adult said, "Oh, we're not keeping score" we had to concentrate all the harder on keeping score, keeping track of who was out, who scored when, and if the game was continued recesses to recess , mark the score in the dust of the ball diamond but also, someone needed to smuggle pen and paper to playground...so we could keep score.
We learned that, no, we're not so much created equal when it comes to games and contests, and someone would be faster or stronger or a better jumper, no matter how many times you tried. Someone will not be so good, and some will just never be that good. And we learned how to take turns picking THOSE people for teams, too. It wasn't about self-esteem or feelings, but just about being fair.
We learned that playing in the dirt and dust was more meaningful than being a whiz at math. Sure, you may get straight A's with fractions, but if you could dig a hole on the side of the sandpit and tunnell straight under to the other side with out it all collapsing...well, that person was destined for greatness, no matter what.
We learned that maybe all your family could afford for you to bring in your lunch was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a little thermos full of peaches for lunch. But if you brought it in a red, white and blue lunchbox the size of a Mack truck, you would be respected by even those who brought roast beef sandwiches, cheetos, pudding, AND cookies(that's right, we learned two desserts are better than one). And both those lunches tasted best when your teacher let you go outside and eat under the oak tree behind the school, just feet from the swings. Eating in the great outdoors was...the great equalizer.
We learned that when it was too cold to go outside at recess, it really wasn't too cold as long as you kept moving. We learned that the swings were extremely cold if you sat on them, but if you laid on them and pretended you were Superman or Green Lantern or Underdog, they would warm up and your heavy coat prevented you from feeling just how cold they were until they DID warm up. And when it became absolutely too cold to go outside, we would go play in the gym or the long narrow basement. You could still throw a ball, you could still run, yell, and sweat. And if you were careful, you could get far enough away from an adults ear to where you could practice your swearing.
We learned to create and be creative. We learned to adapt, we learned that sharp edges and small objects just meant being more careful, not that it had to recalled by the manufacturer because an over protective parent saw us bleeding.
Yes. We bled. We ate dirt. Sand. We rarely washed our hands. We swore and cursed. Some of us were better at it than others. I was. Maybe I couldn't build a tunnel that wouldn't collapse, but I knew the appropriate words and curses to invoke when it DID collapse.
We learned that if we were hurt or bleeding, we didn't tell someone, because that meant we might not be able to do whatever caused us to get hurt or bleed in the first place.
We learned.
We adjusted. We adapted. We watched out for each other.
When we got bored, we figured out how to up the stakes and make things more interesting. We learned that sometimes, the most fun was had in a little pile of rocks or throwing walnuts across the field or against the big, metal slide.
We learned that were few things as satisfying as the sound of a walnut exploding against the big, metal slide. Even as a swarm of Godless squirrels chewed us out.
We learned that on really warm days, the tar on the edge of the street would bubble...and we took great delight in popping those bubbles, sometimes for hours on end. In the same way, we learned on cold days our breath became visible, and took great delight in breathing in each others faces, filling each other with viruses and influenza...and laughter.
We learned. We lived. We loved...breathed it all in, sucked it all in, because time was short. Is short.
We learned to keep what was important.
Like a red, white and blue lunchbox I still...and always...treasure.
There is a lot of talk now about what school should be, what should be taught, when it should be taught, how long the school year should go. There is a lot of respect for teachers and a lot of misunderstanding...and a lot of resentment towards teachers.
I have a lot to say on this and it's going to take a lot of just writing....a lot of backspacing and deleting. I will simply start with what WE learned. When I was in school, we learned:
We learned to play. If the swings were occupied, we played on the slide, and if that was full, we played on merry-go-round. If that was full...we played kickball, and if we didn't get picked, it was not the end of the world. We went to a different part of play ground and kicked the ball with someone else. We dug in the sand pits, making tunnels, and at the end of recess we either filled them in or left them for later recesses. What we did not do was complain that we didn't get picked for this team or that team. We didn't complain that someone else got to swing longer, or their tunnel was better than ours. This was recess, and there was simply no time to worry about feelings and self-esteem.
We learned to eat dirt. Or sand. That's right. Eat dirt or sand. I don't mean we went out and spooned up gobs of the stuff and forced it down our throats to see who could last longer, although we did that from time to time as well. We ate dirt and sand because we were kids, and that's what kids did from time to time. We didn't always wash our hands. And in the process of not washing our hands every time we came in contact with dirt, dust, sand, door knobs, rusty hinges, and grimy cement floors, something else happened. We got sick, and then...we got better. Our immune systems grew, we developed antibodies, and we became more resilient. We got better, we got stronger...but we didn't wash our hands with antibacterial mucous every 20 minutes.
We learned when an adult said, "Oh, we're not keeping score" we had to concentrate all the harder on keeping score, keeping track of who was out, who scored when, and if the game was continued recesses to recess , mark the score in the dust of the ball diamond but also, someone needed to smuggle pen and paper to playground...so we could keep score.
We learned that, no, we're not so much created equal when it comes to games and contests, and someone would be faster or stronger or a better jumper, no matter how many times you tried. Someone will not be so good, and some will just never be that good. And we learned how to take turns picking THOSE people for teams, too. It wasn't about self-esteem or feelings, but just about being fair.
We learned that playing in the dirt and dust was more meaningful than being a whiz at math. Sure, you may get straight A's with fractions, but if you could dig a hole on the side of the sandpit and tunnell straight under to the other side with out it all collapsing...well, that person was destined for greatness, no matter what.
We learned that maybe all your family could afford for you to bring in your lunch was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a little thermos full of peaches for lunch. But if you brought it in a red, white and blue lunchbox the size of a Mack truck, you would be respected by even those who brought roast beef sandwiches, cheetos, pudding, AND cookies(that's right, we learned two desserts are better than one). And both those lunches tasted best when your teacher let you go outside and eat under the oak tree behind the school, just feet from the swings. Eating in the great outdoors was...the great equalizer.
We learned that when it was too cold to go outside at recess, it really wasn't too cold as long as you kept moving. We learned that the swings were extremely cold if you sat on them, but if you laid on them and pretended you were Superman or Green Lantern or Underdog, they would warm up and your heavy coat prevented you from feeling just how cold they were until they DID warm up. And when it became absolutely too cold to go outside, we would go play in the gym or the long narrow basement. You could still throw a ball, you could still run, yell, and sweat. And if you were careful, you could get far enough away from an adults ear to where you could practice your swearing.
We learned to create and be creative. We learned to adapt, we learned that sharp edges and small objects just meant being more careful, not that it had to recalled by the manufacturer because an over protective parent saw us bleeding.
Yes. We bled. We ate dirt. Sand. We rarely washed our hands. We swore and cursed. Some of us were better at it than others. I was. Maybe I couldn't build a tunnel that wouldn't collapse, but I knew the appropriate words and curses to invoke when it DID collapse.
We learned that if we were hurt or bleeding, we didn't tell someone, because that meant we might not be able to do whatever caused us to get hurt or bleed in the first place.
We learned.
We adjusted. We adapted. We watched out for each other.
When we got bored, we figured out how to up the stakes and make things more interesting. We learned that sometimes, the most fun was had in a little pile of rocks or throwing walnuts across the field or against the big, metal slide.
We learned that were few things as satisfying as the sound of a walnut exploding against the big, metal slide. Even as a swarm of Godless squirrels chewed us out.
We learned that on really warm days, the tar on the edge of the street would bubble...and we took great delight in popping those bubbles, sometimes for hours on end. In the same way, we learned on cold days our breath became visible, and took great delight in breathing in each others faces, filling each other with viruses and influenza...and laughter.
We learned. We lived. We loved...breathed it all in, sucked it all in, because time was short. Is short.
We learned to keep what was important.
Like a red, white and blue lunchbox I still...and always...treasure.