Patsy Porco

Posts Tagged ‘teachers’

A Good Way to Be

In Children, Humor on June 5, 2018 at 1:30 am

Whenever I sit on our sofa, I always lift the bottom cushions and check under them before sitting down. It’s become a habit, but tonight I caught myself doing it and wondered why I did it. Then I remembered.

I have a friend who is very smart and very introspective. Sometimes she’s so deep in her thoughts that you have to nudge her back to the conversation you’re having with her. She is also very calm amidst chaos. And that was a conscious choice she made.

She has experienced two life events that would send most of us into a tailspin, but she told me that she refused to allow them to interrupt her life. She said that she was available to support the people who were in trouble and she would continue to help them when they came out on the other side of their problems, but she would not obsess about their situations or let them interfere with her life.

She also doesn’t let the little annoyances, or alarming discoveries, in life get to her.

One day, she told me of a visit to her mother’s house. She said that she was sitting on the couch across from her mother, who was in an armchair. While talking, she slid her hand down the side of the couch between the cushion and the the arm. She felt something soft, so she lifted the cushion and found a family of mice. The surprising thing is that she found this to be interesting instead of horrifying. She told the story in a bemused fashion, as if it were odd that she didn’t find animals in her own furniture.

On another occasion, she told me that her son’s grade-school teacher sent a note home saying that she suspected that her son had worms. She called the teacher and asked why she thought this and the teacher said that the boy couldn’t sit still and was acting oddly. So, my friend took her son to his pediatrician and had him checked. He didn’t have worms after all, so he was sent back to school with a declaration of wormlessness from the doctor. Again, my friend didn’t get upset or mortified like most of us would have. She just did what she had to do, and told the story.

Years later, her younger son had the same teacher. He came home from school one day and said that the box of raisins that she had sent to school with him for recess had had worms in it. He took the box to the teacher and told her that he had inchworms that he wanted to show the class, since they sang the song “Inchworm.” The teacher told him that the the worms in his raisins weren’t inchworms and he should throw the raisins out. Being a very considerate teacher, she offered him an alternate snack from her supply closet.

I remember that my friend grimaced when she wondered if this teacher now thought of her family every time she saw worms. But then she laughed at the coincidence and put the incident aside.

I find her company to be very soothing. Nothing is a disaster to her, just something to endure and examine later. She might be on to something.

worm in apple

Pretend this apple is a raisin.

The Mystery of Mothers Who Home-School

In home-schooling, Humor on January 15, 2018 at 7:56 pm

I don’t understand why any woman would voluntarily home-school her children. Please don’t say that men home-school their children, too. They don’t.

Why would a mother decide to forgo six or more hours of having her kids out of the house? That still leaves about 18 hours to have them in the house, so it’s not as though they’ll forget what she looks like.

I was watching Love It or List It on HGTV and there was a couple who needed to either enlarge their home or find a new one for them and their seven children, who were home-schooled by the wife. Their seven children. What is wrong with that mother that she doesn’t want them to go away for at least part of the day? I was the eldest of seven children and my mother was happy to see us go to school. She was also mostly happy to see us come home, but I suspect that was because we had left for a worthwhile stretch of time.

Putting aside a mother’s suspicious need to be surrounded by her children at all times, what qualifies any mother to teach seven children all at once? At some point, their lessons are going to be difficult, if not impossible, for her to teach. What then? Does she say, “I never saw the need for geometry, anyway. You only really need to know the basic shapes”?

I’m a smart person, according to all of the Facebook quizzes I’ve taken. Not only can I read a sentence backwards but, according to the quiz I took last night, I have many of the indicators of high intelligence: I’m tall, I’m the eldest child, I’m a night owl, and I enjoy alcohol. But I would never attempt to home-school one child, let alone a passel of them.

I also think kids need to socialize with people their own age so they learn how to interact in society. And, if the older kids don’t get opportunities to make their younger siblings jealous, by doing things the young ones can’t do, then what is the point of being an older kid? And what is the point of being a middle child if you aren’t ignored, or the baby if you aren’t indulged? Instead, they all share the same space, day after day, lumped together as one student entity and treated identically by their no-doubt harried mother/teacher.

Speaking of the mother: How does she work, either in the house or out of the house, if she’s always monitoring her kids’ lessons? She mustn’t get anything else done. And how does she maintain her sanity with everyone around all of the time?

There’s only one answer: These home-schooling mothers are all tall firstborns who stay up all night and drink.

teacher in class

 

 

Martian Magic

In Humor, Technology on August 22, 2015 at 5:42 pm

martian dollWhen I was in elementary school, my fifth-grade teacher, Mr.(Kenneth) Sheinen, held up a clear, plastic, Bic ballpoint pen and asked the class to explain to a Martian, in writing, what it was, and what it was used for. He told us that we had to consider that the Martian had just landed on Earth and everything on our planet was foreign to him (of course it was a him; it was 1970, and times weren’t yet a-changin’* in Northeast Philadelphia).

Mr. Sheinen wanted us to describe every aspect of the pen: what it was made of, what filled the clear tube inside the pen, what the pointed tip of the pen did, how the caps were used and why, etc.

At the time, I remember thinking that, to a Martian, a ballpoint pen would appear to be magical. While we knew that they had cool stuff, like spaceships, antennas, bulging eyes, and green skin, they certainly didn’t have ballpoint pens. After all, who would want to write in Martian?

Looking back, I’m sure that Mr. Sheinen gave us this complicated project just to get some quiet time. Or, maybe he actually wanted to learn about Bic pens, his being a Martian and all.

This got me to thinking about what we perceive as magic. If I happened to time-travel from the 1700s into today’s world, I would be ready to burn everyone as witches. How could I, as an 18th-century person, not think that computers, cell phones, GPS, television, radio, streaming video and audio, Skype, and on and on, weren’t magic, and probably black magic? So much of what we use and create is invisible.

Centuries from now, when our civilization is excavated by archaeologists, what will they make of all the flat black boxes of varying sizes that they find in every house, and next to every skeleton? They won’t know about the satellites we relied on to make them work, or the electricity we used to power them. It would be fun to hear them speculate about their use.

Every thousand years or so, civiizations and their secrets disappear. That’s why I don’t understand why we marvel at the building of pyramids and the other wonders of our world. Everyone has seen drawings of the building of the pyramids, and they always include ropes hoisting slaves up each level to continue the job of building. Why? If we’ve harnessed the invisible powers of magnetism, electricity, sound, space, etc., for our needs, why do we not consider that Egyptians might have used the power of the mind, the body, or something else?

It does seem that once certain secrets of the universe have been discovered and utilized by a civilization, that society’s days are numbered. And once it’s gone, most of its knowledge is erased. The next group starts from scratch, just like poor Sisyphus, the Corinthian king who was doomed to rolling a huge boulder up a hill, watching it roll down again, and beginning again, forever.

This reminds me of Mr. Sheinen’s essay. Every time we handed our composition in to him, he said that it wouldn’t make sense to a Martian, so we started over. I hope that he finally learned how to use his Bic pen.

Bic pen

*The Times They Are a-Changin’, a song by Bob Dylan, 1964

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