It is in pondering the questions that understanding comes through


Bird Droppings March 18, 2014
It is in pondering the questions that understanding comes through

It has been interesting this spring, weather wise. I have been battling allergies and sinus issues daily between cold and hot and rain and then not enough rain and the pollen. When I headed to school today I had been thinking about the many years of daily writing and journaling of my ideas and thoughts. Many times as I have written over the past years the word perception has come up. I addressed the idea of questioning the question yesterday and I was thinking back one night as we were finishing back many days ago as I was sitting and posting on a graduate discussion board on the internet. I was posting along with friends and fellow graduate students and discussing critical race feminism which ties in sex, race, culture, and ethics and to then to some extent education. The idea of perception was brought up numerous times. In this course of study for many it is an opening of eyes that had been closed.

I am an observer by nature. In education or previously in industry as I walk into someone else’s office, classroom or study I immediately peruse the books and items on shelves and desks. I see the papers, the order of items, or lack of order and the amazingly you can quickly make assumptions about that individual. In my own case if someone walked into my writing hovel they would see animal books and magazines as my oldest son also stacks various reading material among my own. There are many years of theology and spiritual matters along with numerous translations of religious texts, and bibles. In stacks many informational texts, arts and craft books, herbs and gardening books, notes from graduate school, and psychology texts scattered among the piles and shelves.

An individual’s personality exists within the piles and various items or at least a perception of who they are. In my case in a quick look you would see several books, Spirit Dance by William Edelen, Red Pedagogy by Sandy Grande, The Passionate Teacher by Robert Fried, Celestine Prophecy by James Redfield, a book on Great quotes, The purpose for your life by Carol Adrienne, The Handicapped child in the classroom, Ten Stupid things men do to mess up their life’s by Dr. Laura, A passion for excellence by Tom Peters, Control of Human Behavior, Safety and the Bottom line by Frank E. Bird Jr. It is these books that are on top of piles on my table and desk. I always wondered could a psychological analysis be made of me from those texts sitting out perhaps recent readings or reference sources. Something could be said; perhaps a perception, an opinion, or an assumption could be made about the person. Last night a fellow educator posted she had just bought her first Stephen King novel and a book on Revelations and so numerous posts and notes later it was most interesting watching the responses.

“Except for the still point there would be no dance ……. And there is only the dance.” William Edelen starts his book Spirit Dance with that line from T.S. Elliot

I sit thinking about that line do we have a still point? Last night as I was reading comments on various blogs as fellow teachers and future teachers discussed their views and realities in discussion posts on line and as we are trying to finish out the year working with students who are waiting for the last few minutes of the last day before summer break to complete work so much anxiety among educators. Perhaps this is only a perception of mine. We are using the word senioritis as we address the seniors in high school, that seem lost in oblivion as their last year winds down. It can be a teenager in the last thirty seconds of school or a graduate student in the last thirty seconds posting before break. “And there is only the dance”

I looked through my book of quotes a little collection of quotes from my first year back teaching containing poems from myself and others and photos of students school etc. sort of a mini yearbook, filled with many coincidences. I found lyrics to a Garth Brooks song. The song is, The Dance written by Tony Arata, who by chance was my brother in law’s roommate in college at Georgia Southern many years ago.

“And now I’m glad I didn’t know the way it all would end the way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain but I’d of had to miss the dance.” Tony Arata

Thinking about the dance in reference to Elliot’s line and Arata’s line it is about who we are inside and how we see the world. So often in life we want to avoid problems. I am finding as I grow older it is the problems and tribulations that give us the pieces of who we are. It is all of this history that gives us our outlook on life, our perception as we view the world. Wandering to back to my graduate school posting discussion as we learned over that semester everyone has a history and it is within that history we can only get a true understanding of who they are. Not really knowing a person’s history can alter your perception of them.

As I paged through my little book I had copied nearly twelve years ago I found a note I had written evidently this book was one of my students. The student had wanted me to write a personal note so I kept the book and then school was over and she never picked up her book and I wrote a second note. As I look back it brings a tear. It seems she quit school with graduation test difficulty found a new boyfriend fiancée and got married and pregnant, sort of all in one fell swoop. Was this a success or failure from a teaching standpoint, did we reach that former child who now has a child. I am sure some would say no. But I have talked with her since and she is a happy mother and did get her GED and went on to technical school.

It has been nearly forty four years since I first started teaching. A few years back I had a professor who was ten years old in public school in Macon Georgia when I moved to that town in 1971 or so. Back in the day special needs kids were not all being served in public school IDEA legislation went into effect in 1974 but did reach Georgia really till a few years later. One of my first jobs in education in Macon was working with a child find. Thirty nine years ago there were not IEP’s or mandatory education for all children. Many disabled students often just stayed home since there really was no place for them in the public schools at that time. We found 278 children and adults in less than 90 days who were not being served and we were only looking for 50 to start our program which was the maximum capacity for the building.
In those days 1970 – 1973 it wasn’t about curriculum or text books or even lesson plans it was simply students who had never been served. In and among those students was a young black man who by chance had Down’s syndrome, Sammy Jones age twenty four. He was friendly clean cut and always fixing his hair and checking his shirt to be sure it was tucked in and adjusting his belt always making sure everything was just right. He would be a poster child for correct dress code, always immaculate. Sammy would always somehow bring up “big momma”, seems he called his mother “big momma”.

I remember one day after we started up our daily program and Sammy was in “school” his excuse to not do work would be “big momma said I don’t have to do that” when he didn’t want to do something. I recall Sammy’s favorite class was nap time. We found Sammy through another program for children Ms. Rawl’s Lucky Duck nursery. As I think back to my first days teaching in Georgia it has been some time since I really thought about Ms. Rawl’s and Lucky Duck where my late brother John attended school when we first moved to Macon. It was all a matter of perception perhaps as it seems the promised school to get my father to move his business to Macon never materialized and my brother became the token white boy in a black school. Macon in 1971 was still very racial separated especially with disabled children. My brother John was “bussed” in so to say.

The funny thing was Ms. Rawls, my mother and I ended up writing the federal grant that got initial funding in Macon for disabled children. There was a significant clause, the schools had to integrate. A coincidence perhaps, but as I think back and remember driving across town to that old school to pick up John at Lucky Duck he wasn’t a token child he was a child at a school and for him every day he would be smiling not one time did John get upset about his school. I never remember my mother complaining about where he was going to school. I do remember Ms. Rawls and how much concern she had for John. Maybe our perception was different back then. As I think back to my mothers and my own perception I do not think ours changed significantly but many others did.

“No one would have ever crossed the ocean if he could have gotten off in the storm” Charles Kettering

It takes getting across the sea to arrive at the other side when the storms get rough quitting is not an option. So many people when times are rough choose getting off in the storm but far too often the waves and turmoil do them in. It is about in life how we perceive and how we see the world around us. Yesterday several of us were talking in the hall and a student mentioned she paid eighty dollars for a pair of jeans that was a mass of holes. Our discussion went to how people are paid to make holes in jeans which are then sold.
Perception, I have jeans with significant holes in them each hole earned and remembered.

A wonderful day ahead a quiet day but in the turmoil and strife please keep all in harm’s way on your mind and in your hearts. Especially today as the shootings, bombings and such continue around the world let us strive for peace. Somewhere in my readings on Indian thought and spirituality I found a short note on prayer. The Indian never prays for things but only to give thanks and today perhaps we should all give thanks for each moment of life we have and for those around us. Please keep all in harm’s way on your mind and in your heart and be sure to always give thanks namaste.

My family and friends I do not say this lightly,
Mitakuye Oyasin
(We are all related)
bird

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