Tag Archives: memories

That BS kid

I was one of those kids. You know the type, every report card my marks were somewhere between average and good, with comments about me not meeting my potential… The ‘BS’ grade of ‘B’ but only a ‘S’atisfactory for effort, rather than ‘G’ood. With a few exceptions the marks could have been ‘A’s. It got worse in university where my marks became further divergent, with me getting ‘A’s in the courses I liked and ‘C’s in the ones I didn’t.

It took my Teacher Ed degree at 29 years old before my marks started to actually represent my abilities, and even then it was partially because I surrounded myself with people who pushed me. I can still hear Anna-Christana’s voice, “Dave, look at our calendar, we have 3 big things due, one on Thursday, two on Friday next week, so you need to start at least one of them this weekend, ok?”

It took me almost two decades of schooling to figure it out on my own before starting my Masters. And now, despite knowing these kind of students, despite being one of these students, I still don’t know a magic formula to move a ‘BS’ to a ‘BG’ or an ‘AG’. As a side note, it’s not as much about the ‘A’ mark as the ‘G’ for effort, that I’m really interested in seeing… change the effort, grades will eventually follow.

In high school, favourite teachers of mine could get me to put more effort into things, but they didn’t decide to be a favourite teacher, I decided. That speaks a lot to the importance of relationships in teaching, but kids don’t always meet you there. Yes, we can excite these students about a project that are in their areas of interest. Yes, we can give them more choice in assignments and ways to demonstrate learning, but at some point they need to step up too.

I wish there was a secret I could reveal. I wish I could look back in time and say, ‘If only I had done this‘, or i’If only someone had provided me with that‘, well then things would have been different. Maybe there is something, but for me it was my age and my willingness to put the effort in. Until then, learning on someone else’s agenda was pretty much BS to me.

Post-it notes everywhere

My sister recently reminded me of how I used to write essays in school. While doing research, I’d write all my ideas down on Post-it notes. Then I’d take these notes and group them into big ideas. Then I’d take the big ideas and put them together into paragraphs.

I never wrote my introductory paragraph until I’d stitched all my Post-its into a cohesive essay body, then I’d decide what my thesis was and write my introduction. Then I’d go back and tweak the essay to fit.

The process looked chaotic, with these sticky paper squares completely surrounding me, sitting on my bedroom floor. Some of them stuck together in groups, others orphaned until I could figure out if I needed them. My dad would laugh at the sight, and make comments about my brain being filled with sticky notes.

Today, when I write on my office whiteboard, I see this come out in a different way. I don’t have Post-its stuck everywhere, but I see ideas stitched together and orphaned thoughts that I want to fit, but don’t. I have neat and tidy final drawings and ideas, and messily scratched words and thoughts that will be erased once I figure out how to expand on them and connect these ideas to the ones I’ve already decided to keep.

In a way, I’ve kept the same system, I just don’t use the post-its. I enjoy big thinking and stitching ideas together. I like making connections between unrelated things. I might have given up the process of writing with Post-it notes, but I haven’t given up on thinking the same way as when I used them. Over the next week, I’m going to pull out my post-its and see if they can’t help me advance my whiteboard thinking that has been stagnating recently.

Let’s see if this helps me… I’ll keep you posted. 😃

Rewind

A year ago we were heading towards the March break and, at the end of February, had no idea that we would return from the break doing remote learning. I was recovering from breaking my kneecap, and not mentioning Covid-19 or physical distancing yet here on my Daily-Ink. That changed in March.

What a year it has been! Part of me wants to call it a rollercoaster ride, part of me wants to call it a long straight drive on a deserted road through the prairies. No matter how you look at this past year, it is nothing any of us expected a year ago.

Rewind to the end of February 2011, I was a principal in China, and found out I’d be coming back to BC to be vice principal of the adult learning centre. This would lead me to my current position both with Coquitlam Open Learning and co-founding Inquiry Hub.

Rewind to February 2001 and my wife and I had a 1 year old who completely changed our lives. February 2002 our second was born.

Rewind to 1991 and I had not graduated on time from university and went to a different university to finish my degree, choosing this school so that I could play varsity water polo. This brought me back home and I ended up lifeguarding and coaching at a high school. I wouldn’t be a teacher today if I hadn’t made this move and got experience working with and coaching students.

How will I look at February 2021 a decade from now? Will it be a blur in the covid years, or will it be stepping out into a post-covid frontier? Maybe that’s going to be February 2022… I think we will have to keep driving the long prairie road for a while, and look forward to slow and gradual changes in the coming year.

Cold shower

Unexpected snow has delayed my Daily-Ink today… Shovelling the driveway is taking priority and I’ll get this out tonight. But this is connected to the idea of the post, because I really bundle up just to do something like clearing that white, fluffy, frigid stuff off of my driveway.

Cold showers:

I hate the cold. Can’t stand feeling a chill. I blame it on being born in the Caribbean. In Barbados as a kid, when I was at the beach and it started to rain, tourists would get into the water, since they are getting wet anyway. I’d get out of the water because without the sun shining, the water was too cold for me.

Recently I’ve been turning the hot water off at the end of my showers. I let the water hit the top of my head and wait for it to go cold. Then I move so the water hits my chest and I turn in a circle, getting the water first to hit my core, then down my arms and legs.

By my first turn, my breath is taken away. I actually feel like it’s hard to breathe. I only do this for about 15 seconds but it feels longer. Even after I turn the water off my breathing is shallow and takes a moment to recover.

Then two things happen, first, I feel a tingling sensation and I feel wide awake. This feeling is better than my first coffee! Next, I open my shower curtain and grab my towel. Usually when I do this I feel an uncomfortable chill, but instead the air feels comfortable. So rather than getting a chill from the contrast of hot water to cold air, I feel comfortable.

Fifteen seconds of chilly agony, followed by a huge payoff. I’m going to keep doing this, but I might end up taking slightly longer showers as I convince myself to turn the hot water off.

I’ve got a friend who asks me to join him for a polar bear swim each new year. I’m a step closer, but it might still be a few years before I am willing to take the plunge… if I ever do!

Wanting attention at any cost

I had a student in my gym class, a very long time ago, who was the biggest victim of bullying in the school. I was always having to look out for him, but not so much because kids would outright pick on him, but rather because he was a danger to himself. I know what this sounds like, it sounds like I’m blaming the victim… And this can be a very sensitive topic, but it is something that happens often.

This kid would call a much bigger kid stupid after the bigger kid messed up a play. He would pester someone who wasn’t involved in the play, away from the ball. He would kick a ball out of bounds for no reason. He would constantly put himself in compromising positions almost as if he was using himself as bait.

This kind of behaviour is really challenging to deal with. It seems that some kids want and need attention and are somehow internally rewarded by any attention – good or bad. This ‘attention at any price’ motivation is challenging to understand. Often when positive attention was given to this kid it was almost always followed by seeking negative attention… as if the positive attention wasn’t enough.

Give the kid a compliment, minutes later he’s egging on someone. He scores a goal, moments later he’s picking up the ball rather than kicking it, and stopping the game. He gets a point in capture the bean bag, and in the next play he keeps running after he is tagged. It’s like, ‘that attention was good, but it’s gone and I need more’.

I can only understand this behaviour as attention seeking, because I can’t understand it through another lens. I don’t see any other benefit to the behaviour. It only makes sense to me as attention seeking. But I don’t know why a kid sees this as positive? And it plays out in many ways, and not always with kids like this who help to make themselves targets of others.

Please know that there are many times that students are picked on unfairly, and bullying is an issue that is dealt with in schools all the time. Many students do not deserve the wrath they face. Bullies have often been victimized themselves in some way, and they too are often attention seeking, with a difference in that they seek attention through power. I’m not saying in any way that a victim of bullying deserves to be bullied.

What I am saying is that we don’t always know or understand how or why some people will choose to seek attention? And, this behaviour can often invite negative attention as much as positive attention. Maybe being hated feels better than being ignored. Maybe someone’s anger feels better than their disdain. Maybe feeling something is better than feeling nothing at all.

When I’m dealing with misbehaviour, I always try to understand the motivation behind the behaviour. Often that’s where the healing has to start. But when the motivation seems to be attention, it can be really hard to understand what is behind that need, and how the behaviour meets that need. I find negative attention-seeking perplexing, and don’t always get to the heart of the issue.

The hardest part of it is that the negative behaviour that draws the attention often brings desired consequences… For example, a kids draws an inappropriate picture on another student’s work. This is dealt with by a teacher and the teacher’s consequences are a form of negative attention that completes the attention-seeking loop. So, the consequence given enforces the attention-seeking behaviour, rather than teaches any kind of positive behaviour change.

I can’t say that I’m particularly good at finding the root cause of attention-seeing behaviour. It’s not always apparent or obvious. Students can be complex; their wants and needs can be hard to understand. When it comes to seeking negative attention, I don’t think students always know or understand their own motives, and even if they do, they struggle to articulate these motives in an uncomfortable conversation with adults. It can really be challenging to deal with students who seek negative attention or desire attention regardless of whether it is positive or negative.

Living in the Matrix

I’m re-watching the Matrix 20 minutes a day. I hop on my exercise bike and start watching where I left off the day before. There is a lot to enjoy in this cult classic film. I forgot about the metaphor of the human race as a virus rather than a mammal. When you look at the way we spread, destroying our host (world), it’s a brilliant comparison.

But the moment I love most is the choice Neo has to take the red or blue pill. Discover the truth and never be able to return, or return to ‘normal life’ oblivious to even having made the choice… go back and live in the matrix.

How many of us spend time stuck in the matrix? Wake up, go to work, come home, eat, watch entertainment on tv or our phones, go to sleep, wake up… repeat. I remember a friend telling me about his life after high school. He got a good job in a factory and him and two buddies would work, go home, have an early dinner, go to his friend’s house, get high, and just hang out. Weekends were just longer times of being high. He did this for almost 5 years before going to university and he describes these as his ‘wasted years’. No new life experiences, no memories to cherish, nothing but a blur of wasted time.

I remember when the kids were young and my wife and I were working full time. A month would go by where all we did was work and ‘feed and water’ the kids. We were coping, we were managing our lives, we weren’t ‘living’. It wasn’t always like that, we have some wonderful memories from that time, but we certainly had periods in the early years of having two kids where that was our reality.

I wonder how many people are living in that kind of world right now? The ‘wasted months’ or ‘wasted years’. Going through the daily motions of surviving and coping, but not really living. Consumed by the rat race. Here is a brilliant short movie Happiness, that shares exactly what I’m trying to describe about existing, but not really living, in the matrix.

Old home movies

Recently my wife had our home made DVD (digital) tapes converted to MP4 so that we could watch them on our computers. Last night we watched a few. The videos ranged from 15-20 years ago. With my daughters now at 21 and almost 19, it was a wonderful trip down memory lane.

Taking videos like these really dropped off after those early years. I think this was a combination of two things happening. First, the kids were older and in school, which made for changes in the dynamics at home. Next, the iphone came out and suddenly you always had a video camera available. However, as convenient as this was, it also made me less likely to record everyday activities, when I knew that I’d also have my recorder ‘right there with me’ the next time. So, video became reserved for happy birthday wishes, and graduations, and ‘special’ experiences like these.

When I was watching these videos last night, I was so thankful for the experiences I recorded. I was sharing snippets with my parents and siblings, laughing with my family, and making comments about how young my wife and I, and my parents and siblings, looked. Moments in time captured and then re-lived.

With the advent of 3D video and fully developed 360° immersive cameras, I wonder what home movies of the future will look like? Will we be able to put on some immersive goggles and enter a scene from the past? Will we be able to enter a scene, turn our heads and see the expression on our own faces as we take the video? What will the experience of looking at ‘old’ home made videos look like for our grandkids?

It’s exciting to think how the experience could be different in the future, but for now, I’m quite grateful for what we do have. It’s nice to have easier access to our old videos, and we are going to enjoy the fond memories for years to come.

Holiday greetings

My parents were Jewish in background, but not really in faith. They decided when we were young that we would celebrate Christmas ‘like the other kids’, and so we always had Christmas trees and gifts from Santa. We had so many gifts from our grandparents, aunts, and uncles that it was embarrassing to have friends over to see half a tree above a massive pile of gifts.

My grandfather called our tree the Hanukkah bush. We would have turkey and a ham, and my dad would tell the same joke every year about the pig being circumcised, so the ham was kosher. So, (totally tongue-in-cheek) Christmas was about consumerism and blasphemy in our household.

But above and beyond that, it has always been about the spirit of giving and spending time with family. It’s about love and memories. It’s about being grateful and feeling blessed.

No matter if you celebrate Christmas or not, whether it’s a religious holiday for you or not, or whether you celebrate a different holiday around this originally pagan mid-winter holiday… season’s greetings and happy holidays. May the holiday season bring you joy, and may you find hope and promise in the year ahead.

Be well, be strong, and be kind.

A 30 year tradition

It was either Christmas Eve 1989 or 1990 and I was home from universtiy for the holidays. My friend Ross and I had yet to do any Christmas shopping. We drove to a huge mall with a restaurant, ordered lunch and had a few beers, then started shopping. At first we shopped together, but that wasn’t working so we split up. This was the pre-cellphone era so we made plans to meet in an hour. At that point we talked a bit about our purchases, gave each other ideas, and planned a second meeting.

I don’t remember if we split up again or just stuck together after that, but we ended up back at the restaurant, ordered coffees, and then started being brutally honest with each other about how good (and bad) we thought our purchases were for our family members. This resulted in a return or two, and some more purchases, before eating again and heading home.

By 1993 I was living in Vancouver and the commute to Toronto was a bit too far to make Christmas Eve plans with Ross. I have spent a few Christmases ‘back home’ and sure enough we still kept the tradition going, but we’ve celebrated this day many more times at a distance. So, every Christmas Eve morning I get a call from Ross. Every Christmas Eve for 30 years. And hopefully for 30 more.

Shifting Dreams

I’ve already shared that I almost never dream of people that are currently in my life, dreams for me usually include people I have not seen in a while. That has shifted a bit recently. So has the number of dreams I seem to recall. I am waking up regularly during the night with a full dream in my head.

They are ridiculous. One of them last night included me being a twin double agent that was subjected to a life-altering test administered by a rogue lizard-man. This beast was an escaped prisoner that we were not allowed to catch, and when we found him we just had to surrender to being hit with spray from a water gun that had dangerous chemicals in it.

Another dream last night turned into a covid dream… I went to visit the archery range, without my bow, and one of the volunteers talked me into shooting guns with them since archery was cancelled. He loaned me a gun, had me sign a waiver (that I didn’t have to read) then took me to a signup building that ended up being an indoor shooting range. Only after being packed into this thing with dozens of people did I realize that I was in a crowded room of anti-maskers, with a sick kid coughing next to me. Stressful. And bizarrely stupid.

When I was in university, I went through a phase of really vivid dreams and I trained myself to make them lucid. The trick was to realize I was dreaming and raise my hand in front of my face. Once I could do this, I realized in my dream that I had the power to choose what I did in the dream. The first couple times I did this, I got too excited about it and woke up.

The third and subsequent times I was able to stay dreaming and I would choose to fly. The sensation was exhilarating and absolutely amazing. I loved it. The only two times I had sensations stronger than the sense of flying in a dream were when I woke up once before my body did and I was comatose, trapped in a disconnected body, this was horrifying. The second was when I met the Messiah in a dream and felt compassion that was so intense, it brought so much love and joy to me, that I crumbled to my knees. One day I’ll share that dream, but not today.

I think I’m at a phase of dreaming where I could get back to lucid dreaming. I think I’m going to go to bed reminding myself to look at my hand and then take control of my dreams. I want to shift from dreams that are silly and stressful to ones where I can enjoy sensations that I can’t in real life. I want to fly again.