Where the Mountain Meets the Moon

Funny, but just after writing my last post about working harder to be content with what we have I started reading a new book by Grace Lin called Where the Mountain Meets the Moon. It is a truly wonderful read about a young girl who goes on a quest to find the Man of the Moon so she can ask him how she can change the fortune of her poor family. Along the way she meets a variety of animals and people who help her along her way. The book is filled with many smaller folk stories that help to advance the story. I'm going to share one of my favorites here as it seems to speak so well to my earlier post.

**********
The Story That Ma Told


Once there was a woman who had a kind husband and a beautiful daughter. A great mountain shadowed their home, making the land that they lived on poor and their house small. But there was always enough to eat, and the water always flowed in hot months, while a fire always burned during the cold ones. Yet the woman was not content.

The woman begrudged the barren mountain and the meager land and swallowed her plain rice with bitterness. She frowned at the humble cotton of their clothes and sighed in resentment at the tight rooms of the house.

Day after day, the woman grumbled. When she heard stories of treasures of gold and jade, she was filled with envy. "Why do we have nothing?" she sulked in frustration. "We have no treasures, no fortune. Why are we so poor?"

Her husband and daughter worked harder every day, hoping to bring wealth to their house. But the unfeeling land did not cooperate, and the house remained cramped, the clothes stayed modest, and there was always only just enough rice for the three of them. The woman also remained unhappy; her displeasure grew like weeds - uncontrollable and tangling.

The woman was so caught up in her dissatisfaction, she did not realize that she was planting seeds of discontent in her daughter as well. Until then, her daughter had been pleased with their life, but now she began to feel troubled. The rice that filled their bowls began to taste bland, the clothes she had liked for their colors now felt rough, and the house that she had run freely around in had become stifling.

Finally, unable to bear the growing frustration, the daughter stole away in the middle of the night - vowing not to return until she could bring a fortune back to her family.

And it was only then that the woman saw the stupidity of her behavior. For without her daughter, the house became too large and empty, and she was not hungry for the extra rice. As the days passed in loneliness, fear, and worry, the woman cursed herself for her selfishness and foolishness. How lucky she had been! She was at last able to see that her daughter's laughter and love could not be improved by having the finest clothes or jewels; that joy had been in her home like a gift waiting to be opened. The woman wept tears for which there was no comfort. For all the time that she had been longing for treasures, she had already had the one most precious.

Now wiser, the woman could do nothing but go to her husband, beg forgiveness for her actions, and hope to someday do the same with her daughter. She did not know if she would receive compassion from either, but she vowed she would wait for it. If necessary she would wait like the mountain that shadowed them.

**********

I would highly recommend this book to those of you building a summer reading list. Here is a trailer...

Naive Parenting 101

Tricia and I were so idealistic when first becoming parents. We had a strong vision for the types of parents we wanted to be, the relationships we wanted to build with our kids, the types of people we wanted them to grow to be. We (or at least I) thought everything could be carefully planned and executed. Cut-and-dry. Like plugging in a formula.

We prepared for parenthood. We cut back on things like TV and sports and cleaned up our diets. We read parenting books and closely watched other parents that we respected and admired. We looked into daycare possibilities only to decide after being exposed to a number of chain smokers and blaring television sets that one of us should just go ahead and stay at home.

Once Harper was born we started hoarding milk and soon after learned to make our baby food, free of dyes and additives. We rocked and sang and talked and read and hovered. Actually we did a lot of hovering. We were going to prove our worth as parents by spending every waking moment at Harper's side. This would be a decision that would come back to haunt us later (as she struggled to learn to play alone) but parenting is like that - you learn from your own mistakes. You just hope none of them are so big that you, or your child, can't recover.

When our first Christmas as a family rolled around we set a rule for our families: No more than one or two toys. "Buy books or CDs or add a little extra to her college savings," we pleaded, "But don't fill Harper's room, and life, with tons of toys." We didn't feel she needed a life of plenty, but a life of enough. This wasn't necessarily well-received by everyone. No one said anything, at least not verbally, but their body language spoke volumes. People like to buy gifts. I think it's, in part, because they feel kids need them to be happy. We sensed some people may have felt we were depriving our little girl. "The more you spend, the more you have... the happier you will be" is definitely a part of our culture. All of us who have the means live by this motto, if only at varying degrees.

Over the years I feel we've all but given in to this mindset. As we get ready to move to a new house in the coming weeks I look around at all we have accumulated (all of us)  in the past ten or fifteen years and it's too much. I wanted so badly for our kids to grow up with a sense of what it is to want for something. Certainly not food, water, or shelter but at least a new this or improved that. I didn't want everything to be at their fingertips or for them to ever feel entitled to anything. Instead, I see that when they are in "need" of something more often than not it is produced rather quickly - and in a shiny new package. This is wrong.

I was reminded of all this yesterday as I sat and listened to a presentation from a teacher who had just finished a three-year teaching stint in Vietnam (see Vietnam Days). She lived there with her husband and two small girls. Near the end of her presentation she showed a photograph of them leaving their apartment. Although she didn't make mention of it, I noticed that their belongings fit into four of five suitcases and a few backpacks. All of it. And yet they all looked awfully happy and fulfilled. From a global perspective they had plenty. From our perspective they maybe had enough.

Ours is a world of multiple belongings that serve the same purpose: computers, i-pads, and wi/fi phones, gaming systems for home play and gaming systems that are portable, collections of guitars that offer not only different sounds but different styles, colors, and finishes, or chairs specialized for the porch, the campfire, and the beach. I'm not saying that any of these these are necessarily wrong or that I don't enjoy some of them. I do.

But I wonder where we draw the line. I wonder when enough becomes plenty and when plenty becomes too much. I wonder when "I want" becomes "I need" and when "I need" becomes "I'm entitled to." I wonder how "I'm entitled to..." shapes our policies and changes how we see and react to the needs of our own community and the world.

There are many times when I think I was naive to ever believe we could create a small vacuum in which  accumulating stuff wasn't so important. How could I possibly expect it from anyone else when I continually fall into the same traps myself? I don't, for a second, think that it is necessary, or even noble, to live a life void of  the things you want. But I do think there's a line that needs to be drawn, somewhere. There should be a point at which we feel content with what we have.

Perhaps we need to find that point for ourselves before we can even begin to think about teaching it to our kids.

To Hell in a Handbasket

Like most teachers I know I've been spending a portion of these summer days preparing for next fall. I read professional books, look back over some of my notes from this past year, and dream about changes for this next group coming in. I hope to be a better teacher. And well I should, given the state of education today. Just today I read...

If you read the newspaper, you know the American education system has gone past the point where it is simply failing to educate our young, and is now actively reducing their intelligence. Hardly a day goes by when you don't see an article like this:

WASHINGTON -- The National Association of People Who Worry About These Things (NAPWWATT) today reported that this year's graduating high-school seniors are even dumber than last year's, many of whom are still stumbling around the back of the auditorium trying to get their commencement gowns off. NAPWWATT reported that 66 percent of this year's seniors failed a nationwide scholastic test consisting of the question, "What does a duck say?"

This is pretty pathetic. When I was in high school, we were expected to know what a duck says. Oh, sure, I've forgotten a lot of this stuff, but at least I used to know it, which gives me the right to express smug contempt thinly disguised as grave concern for the young people of today.

This is Dave Barry sarcastically poking fun at our education system. The fact that this piece, Why Johnny is Dum, is making light of the fact that the media feels as though American students are getting less and less intelligent each year isn't such a surprise. What gets me is that this was written twenty-six years ago. If our kids were on the downward slide in 1985 imagine how dim-witted they must be by now.

I, of course, would have to disagree - at least with regards to the kids I've known over the past ten or fifteen years. Each spring I see what my students are capable of doing and know full-well that they are much more complex thinkers than I ever was in grade school. Though that's not really saying much. I was in grade school back in 1985.

But like all of us, teachers included, Dave Barry truly wants to see our kids become better learners and achieve more. Although, his motives for this may be a bit misplaced:

Like any responsible parent, I want my son to get the best possible education, because I am sick to death of having to read his Masters of the Universe comic books to him. All the male characters wear loincloths, all the females have breasts like grain silos, and all the dialogue sounds like this (from The Stench of Evil):

SKELETOR: Stinkor, with your powerful SMELL, I would like you to spread your FOUL ODOR where the air is clean, and bring MISERY to a place that is full of happiness!

STINKOR: YES! YES! I revel in all that is FOUL!

Our goal as a nation must be to develop, by next fall, an educational system that will teach my son how to read this drivel for himself, ideally on his first day.

A lofty goal, to be sure. Maybe I oughta get back to work.

Survey Says...

There are few phone calls more annoying than a survey. They always promise to be brief but in reality never are. Half this time is spent having the response choices explained, "Rate the following from 1-5 with one being your lowest approval and 5 being your highest approval" or "Would you say you're more likely or less likely to..." Running the risk of not having my voice heard I often just throw out a quick "No thanks" and hang up. I only wish my fellow South Carolinians would have done the same this past week.

According to a survey of 741 South Carolina residents, as conducted by Public Policy Polling, we are a state struggling to move out of the past and into the present. Of course, the rest of the nation already knew this. Here's what the poll revealed:

* 16% of those polled said that interracial marriage should be illegal. Another 14% were not sure. While some states move closer and closer to same-sex marriages three out of every ten of our statesmen aren't even prepared to allow a mix of races. Call me crazy but the fact that our only defense is to point out that both Georgia and Mississippi have even higher percentages isn't really all that comforting.

* 46% of those surveyed were "glad the North won the Civil War." Is it just me or shouldn't that six have had a nine in front of it? 24% wished the South had won while another 29% haven't had enough time yet (150 years) to decide. Only 60% of state Democrats and independents, where you will find many of our state's African-American population, were in favor of a Union victory. Who are those other 40%?

I could easily make a combination of jokes and snide remarks but, sadly, these numbers speak for themselves.

The Bucket List

This afternoon, while eating lunch, I did something I rarely do - read the Parade magazine that comes in the Sunday paper. There's rarely anything in there that I'm all that interested in. Today, however, there was a photo of Jimmy Fallon, dressed like Elvis, driving a motorcycle with a large bear seated behind him. I was kind of curious.

After flipping through the pages to find the article I saw that it was all about his "bucket list" - the things he wants to experience or accomplish in his lifetime. I don't know if the term bucket list is a new one but I don't remember having heard it prior to a few years ago. It seemed, at the time, as though this phrase was being used everywhere. As is generally the case, because creating a bucket list became so popular I decided to avoid it at all costs. This is really a juvenile way to act but I doubt at this point there's much chance that I'll change.

So for whatever reason I sat there and read, while picking at leftover chili and some fruit, Jimmy Fallon's list of hopes and dreams. Well, I read a few (It'd be fun to do Wii bowling with the Queen of England), became bored, and let my eyes wander to other things. At the side of the page I saw that the author of the article had created a list of items he thought everyone should have on their bucket list. I was surprised to see that the first few I noticed were ones I had already completed. Feeling like a success I decided to read on. It actually wound up being pretty interesting. Here's the list (with a few reactions mixed in for good measure)...


1. Eat real barbecue, like at Shealy's Bar-B-Que in Batesburg-Leesville, SC, famous for its fried pulley bone-the part of the chicken around the wishbone. Or go to one of America's BBQ meccas, like Memphis, Austin, or Kansas City, and dine your way from joint to joint.

We've had BBQ in Memphis. I don't recall it being that memorable though. Perhaps we just didn't hit the right places. We spent most our time on Beale Street where the blues pours out  from nearly every door. Strangely enough, Memphis is where I learned how much I love tamales. Go figure.


2. Watch a lawnmower race. Find one by consulting the website of the United States Lawn Mower Racing Association (letsmow.com), the country's oldest and largest sanctioning body for lawn mower racing. Its motto: "We turn a weekend chore into a competitive sport."

Sadly, this really sounds like something I might enjoy. It reminds me a bit of the movie "The Straight Story" about an old man who rides his lawn mower across the country to make peace with his estranged brother. I thought this sounded like a really sweet idea for a movie but never saw it because Tricia feared it would be too depressing.


3. Visit a farm. Meeting the men and women who grow your food can be fascinating and fun. To locate a nearby farm, visit localharvest.org.

Coincidentally Tricia mentioned that she saw something in the paper last weekend about visiting local farms and thought we should to do this.


4. Participate in a tradition that's so odd, it has to be American, like the Mermaid Parade, held in New York City's Coney Island (June 18), or the sidewalk egg-frying competition in Oatman, Arizona (July 4).

Does the Polar Bear Plunge count? I've thought about doing that one. They have it each January here in Lake Carolina. Being that it's usually in the mid to upper 40's when everyone takes the leap I wonder how much street cred this actually gives you.


5. Stand at the base of a really tall tree, like one of Northern California's redwoods or giant sequoias. Gaze up at its branches. Be amazed.

Of all the items on the list this is the one I'd most like to do.


6. Own a pair of cowboy boots.

Of all the items on the list this is the one I'd least like to do.


7. Attend a religious service of a faith different from your own.

When I was much younger I attended Sunday church service with a neighborhood friend. I won't mention the faith but they didn't own a TV and never wore shorts no matter how hot it was outside. Their church had a full band on stage, or I guess they probably called it the pulpit, and the drummer was doing all he could do to snap his sticks on the drumheads. The men in the congregation slipped off their shoes and started wandering around the sanctuary mumbling until a number of them fell to the floor and started to convulse. The women dropped to their knees and placed their heads on the seats of the pews - alongside the children. Thinking they were taking cover I did the same. After what felt like an eternity we finally went home. Needless to say I never went back.


8. Invite someone new to Thanksgiving. Your guest could be a neighbor, a coworker, a foreign visitor - anyone who's not having a celebration of his own.

A couple of years ago we invited the Spanish teacher from my school to Thanksgiving dinner. He was from Columbia, had no family here, and had never celebrated Thanksgiving. At the time we also had an exchange student from Saudi Arabia. So counting Ty there were four different countries represented at our Thanksgiving table. That was pretty cool.


9. Read the constitution. Considering how much time we spend arguing about it, why not bone up on what it actually says?

This wouldn't be a bad idea given that I barely passed the Constitution test before graduating high school. Still, I think I'd rather watch paint dry. Or grass grow. Watch coal turn to diamonds. Any others?


10. Volunteer to be a poll worker on Election Day (Nov. 8 this year).

After the 2000 election where a number of eligible voters were reported to have been turned away (in an election that was excruciatingly close) I decided to become an election judge. There was a new job at the polls created to help anyone turned away. Feeling this was an opportunity to help the system work the way it should I volunteered for this post. For thirteen hours I sat at my own little table off to the side and took care of those who had stood in long lines only to be turned away. A good title for this job would have been "Guy who gets yelled at." It seems standing in a twenty minute line to be told you aren't allowed to vote really fires most people up. Some of them were simply in the wrong place. Others had moved and failed to update their information or register in a new precinct. My favorites, though, were the ones who hadn't voted for years (or decades) and thought all they had to do was show up on election day. A common excuse was "I though I was automatically registered to vote when I got my drivers' license!" While that would have made all the sense in the world it was definitely not the case. It's amazing how completely numb you can become to people griping and yelling at you. 

 
11. Enjoy a minor league baseball game. For teams and schedules, go to minorleaguebaseball.com.

We go to one or two college games each year. I think this is even better.


12. March in a parade. You don't have to pull a Ferris Bueller and commandeer a float - tagging along will do - but big smiles and waves are a must.

I hate parades. As Daniel Tosh jokes "All anyone ever does at a parade is rubberneck down the road wondering when this stupid thing is going to end so they can go home and wash the 'lame' off them. You want to make parades more interesting? I say they do one more lap but at ten times the speed. The midgets start flying off the floats because their stubby fingers can't hold on to the railings. Their tiny bodies whip out into the crowd and a little boy catches one and asks if he can keep it. 'I don't know why not,' his mom says. 'They're not real.' What? They're not. They can't even vote. Well, okay...they CAN vote but have no idea who they voted for. And that is the story of how George Bush became president!" Wow, that was  a long joke just to get to George Bush!


13. Take a kid to Disney World.

We took four the summer before last. I fear Disney may have paid to have this one placed on the list. Would you be surprised to find out that was true?


14. Learn the second verse of our national anthem. One little-known fact about "The Star Spangled Banner": It's melody was based on "To Anacreon in Heaven," a popular British tune dedicated to a wine-loving Greek poet.

I don't know this verse but I do know the verses to Take Me Out to the Ballgame. Were you aware that song even had verses? (Katie Casey was baseball mad...Had the fever and had it bad...)


15. Ride the Ferris wheel at a country fair.

By country fair I assume they mean really rural. I've done the state fair and while I haven't been on the Ferris Wheel I did make myself sick trying to eat something called an elephant ear.


16. Seek out the best Fourth of July fireworks within 50 miles of your home.

We used to watch the fireworks in St. Louis and they were among the biggest and best in the country. They were set against the backdrop of the Arch.


17. Get a passport - there's a whole world out there to explore.

I have a passport but there's a glitch in the digital photo that makes it look as though I have a piece of spinach or something in my teeth. For fear of showing this to anyone I will not be leaving the country until it expires in another five years.


18. Send a letter to your US senator or representative. Maybe even be nice.

I haven't sent a letter but I have sent a number of e-mails. The fact that an assistant sends back a form reply or a quick "The senator is very concerned about this issue and thanks you for your input" I don't know that it did all that much. But it's still good to keep trying.


19. Mail a care package to a service member. Learn what to send and where to send it at anysoldier.com, an organization that helps Americans boost the spirits of military personnel.

This one is a really good idea so I won't make any snide remarks. We were lucky enough this past spring to receive regular letters to our classroom from a soldier stationed in Afghanistan. He was there providing medical care for both soldiers and Afghanees. His letters were beautiful and full of so much interesting information about the people and places he encountered.

20. Make your own Halloween costume.

A few years ago I helped Harper make a Lego costume out of a cardboard box, some cottage cheese containers, hot glue, and spray paint. It was by far the best costume any of the kids have ever had because it was simple, clever, and homemade. I've tried each year to convince them to make another but they'd rather be a Power Ranger or something along those commercial lines. Too bad.


21. Tailgate at a football game.

Uh, no.


22. Go on a road trip. Choose a classic route - the Pacific Coast Highway, the Great River Road, the Blue Ridge Parkway, the Great Lakes Circle tour, Maui's Hana Highway - and pack the car.

I've been on great road trips with friends and have driven along the Great River Road and Route 66. However, I've never taken any of these roads as part of a road trip. Sadly, like most Americans I stick to the interstates that get me there the quickest. Tricia and I drove the Road to Hana and it took us a few hours to navigate more than 45 one-lane bridges as we looked down at the ocean below. It was only fun after it was all over because we could say we did it. 


23. Explore America's ancient ruins. The US may be a mere 235 years old, but humans have lived here for millennia. One treasure left behind: the cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde in Colorado, carved out by the Ancestral Puebloans between 600 and 1300. For one of the densest concentrations of Ancestral Puebloan ruins, head to Chaco Canyon, NM.

Since I've never been further west than Kansas City I imagine there's a whole lot left to see.


24. Sleep beneath the stars in one of more than 50 national parks. See a list at nps.gov/findapark.

This one would seem as though it'd be a given but I'm not sure I've slept in a national park. Plenty of state parks and national forests though.


25. Dip a toe (at least) into the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.

Done it. The Pacific was far better.


26. Write a gratitude letter to a teacher who's made a different in your life. Tell her (or him) of their impact on your life.

A great idea. I had already planned to do something similar to this over the summer.


27. Bake a real apple pie - from scratch. Get a great recipe at dashrecipes.com/applepie.

Maybe blueberry or cherry, but not apple.


28. Catch a concert by an American legend - James Taylor, Dolly Parton, and Jimmy Buffet are all playing dates this summer. Or get tickets for a future legend - Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga - or for any act where you're enough of a fan to sing along to the music.

How did "Amercian legend" and Jimmy Buffet wind up in the same sentence? In what world is Taylor Swift or Lady Gaga a "future legend"? What constitutes being a legend? I did see Ringo Starr and his troup of All-Stars but I guess he's not American so it doesn't count.


29. Appreciate fall's foliage. It doesn't matter where you live - when the leaves explode into color, take a walk outside.

Tricia and I backpacked through the Virginia mountains last fall and enjoyed seeing the changing colors. This is one worth repeating every year.


30. Admire the pyramids of Las Vegas, and ppull at least one slot machine arm - you might get lucky!

With limited time and finances I can't see how Las Vegas would ever make my list of places to go. In fact, I think I'd rather stay home.

31. See a bald eagle soar. This is easier than it sounds - after being brought back from the brink of extinction, our national bird can be found in every state except Hawaii. The biggest convocation is in Alaska, where the best viewing time is October through mid-December.

I was told I was watching a bald eagle soar overhead as we parked alongside the Great River Road near Grafton, Illinois. In all honesty, though, it could have been just about anything for all I knew. Maybe binoculars are a must have when birdwatching.


32. Plan a vacation - and use it to cross an item off your list. Twenty-eight percent of Americans surveyed in a  recent poll took no vacation time the previous year; 65 percent took less than two weeks. Research shows that days off can eases stress and increase creativity.

I love that this list ended at #32. This never happens. Everything in magazines seem to come in 5s or 10s. Kudos to the crew at Parade magazine for bucking the system, or else just running out of ideas.


So I think perhaps I can give in and create a few "must dos" of my own. However, in true Bucket List fashion I'll plan to put this off for now in hopes of getting around to it another day. Maybe tomorrow.

Saying Goodbye

Tomorrow is Day 180 - our final day of school. After more than 2,000 hours of working and laughing alongside this group of kids I know it's going to be hard to say goodbye. They've been anticipating this. Yesterday they shared with me a song they wrote for me a few weeks ago while I was away on an overnight study with the 4th and 5th grades. Written to the tune of We Will Rock You, it was titled We Will Miss You. Just as they started to sing it to me Madison brought me a box of tissues.

"Here," she said. "You're going to need these!"

As it turned out I didn't. The song was really fun but to their dismay I was a rock. Today they were excited to reveal my end-of-the-year gift. They gathered around our classroom window to block my view of what awaited me out there. Just before the big moment someone called out, "He's going to cry!" I sure was grateful to find a lovely new bench sitting beside our pond and garden (last year's gifts). There was even a thoughtful plaque for the bench thanking me for all the great learning and music we've experienced together over these two years. Knowing that next year I'm going to have kids climbing in and out of our window each day to enjoy that bench I was both thankful and touched. Yet still no tears.

"Mr. H, I'll give you five bucks if you cry tomorrow!" Madison said. It should be noted here that Madison's favorite books are the ones that make you cry at the end.

"Yeah," Rose said. "You have to cry tomorrow."

"Just wait," I assured them. "You never know."

Statistically speaking I'm pretty much a sure thing when it comes to tearfully saying goodbye when someone moves away or when I have to say goodbye on the last day of school. I remember a couple of years ago, while teaching at a different school, I couldn't bring myself to tear the classroom down. The kids were already gone for the summer yet I couldn't bring myself to stack the desks and chairs in the corner of the room until the very last moment. I didn't want to work in an empty room. I was as excited as anyone to begin my summer but at the same time I sort of hoped everyone would just come back on Monday morning for another week together.

In many ways I'm ready for this summer to begin. We're building a house and are excited to be moving out into "the woods" in a little over a month. The kids all have fun camps and baseball tournaments planned. We'll be driving down to Florida to visit my sister over Father's Day weekend. I have lots of books I plan to read and look forward to playing many, many games with the kids.And I'm really looking forward to staying up "late" and sleeping past six.

But I'm not in too much of a hurry. I don't want tomorrow to go too quickly. We have a few chores left to do. I want us all to get cozy on the floor one last time to fall into our books. And most of all I want to make sure there's plenty of time to sit together in a circle and say goodbye. And at the very end I'll insist they each take a turn coming over to give me a hug.

After all that I'm sure they'll get just what they wanted.