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67 down...3 to go...

67 down...3 to go...  On a brisk fall morning 10 years ago, I sat with a group of 9-year olds and we talked about respect.  They were instructed to close their eyes and imagine a scene as I described it.  Each time I introduced a new concept into the "scene" they were to raise their hand when they had the image fully formed in their mind.  It started out simple, "Imagine a field", all hands were raised.  "Imagine a small cabin in the field", again, all hands were raised.  This went on as I took them into the cabin, had them find a table in the middle of the main room, place a plate on the table and on the plate, they were to place three objects...A banana (hands raised), an apple (hands raised again) and a quetzal (no hands raised--in fact, the noises of wonderment were amusing).  Many thought I said "pretzel" so I repeated it...”quetzal".  I acted as though I expected them to know what a queztal was, just as they knew all of the other ite...

My Father's Bridge...

My Father's Bridge... One of my students approached me saying that her dad was out of town for a week.  She was sad knowing she would miss him.  A friend put her arm around her and said, "You can come to my house and call my dad your dad."  The week continued and I'm sure she missed her dad in those moments that she was used to having him around.  I am also sure the reunion will be a sweet one. During class this week I asked my parent volunteers to come in and share something special with the class.  The parents are a mixture of moms and dads.  One dad entered the classroom, and as always many of the kids' eyes lit up, for they have a special spot for this dad.  He commanded the class with style and grace and in his usual fashion throughout the year; he provided an atmosphere conducive to group cohesiveness. Dads are special people. My father's 81st birthday is fast approaching.  He lives by himself in an assisted living home, batt...