This summer the issue of gender was thrown at me from several directions: I read a book entitled Secret Daughter… I heard a program about gender selection making its way to Canada… women are now allowed to become members at the Augusta National Golf Club… and for the first time all countries entered in the Olympics had women compete, albeit forcibly.

This combination of events led to a four generation discussion about gender. My 90 year old grandmother remembers both churches and bars segregated: men on one side, women on the other. In my mother’s high school days there were separate entrances for boys and girls. When she finished high school, women were not encouraged or expected to go to university.

In some ways then, we’ve made progress. I can sit where I’d like to in church, my stepdaughter is planning for university without a second thought, and a Saudi Arabian woman has sparked conversation and change in her country by competing in the Olympics. And yet, as far as we have come, I was reminded that we still have far to go when I was sent this video: Miss Representation. It’s 8 minutes long but worth a watch.

Consider the young girls within our schools. What images are they bombarded with each and every day? How do they determine their self-worth? How do we counter the messages they receive through the media? How do we value each of our students, regardless of their gender, for who they are?

When I think of Peter Lougheed, I think of my father.

Nestled in the trees of Peter Lougheed Provincial Park, there is a haven: William Watson Lodge. It is a modest group of cabins but there is magic within. The magic is quite simple really, but life-changing for some. These cabins were designed for people with disabilities: wide doorways that easily fit the width of a wheelchair, accessible decks off each cabin, wheelchair accessible showers, kilometre after kilometre of paved paths right down to the water. This lodge was established to be an affordable experience for those with disabilities and their families.

Peter Lougheed and his wife, Jeanne, are credited for the idea of William Watson Lodge.

When I was growing up, our family spent countless days camping. I have vivid memories of my father chopping wood or tending to the steaks on the hibachi, of my brothers, my parents and I standing at river’s edge skipping rocks, of all of us sitting around many a campfire. When my father became quadriplegic, one of the many losses we faced as a family was the loss of the outdoor experiences we once so enjoyed.

And then William Watson Lodge changed all that. Suddenly we had a place where we didn’t have to raise the bed to fit the Hoyer lift underneath. Suddenly we had a place where we didn’t have to struggle to push the wheelchair over the gravelly ground. Suddenly we had a place where disabilities were common and those around us understood the daily challenges we faced. Suddenly we could be a family enjoying the natural world once again, for a few precious days forgetting the sadness and loss.

Because of Peter Lougheed, I now have memories of my stepdaughter hanging off her grandpa’s chair on a mountain trail, I now have memories of our entourage – homecare workers included – sitting around a campfire, I now have memories of my father, though rendered immobile, once again at water’s edge relishing the fresh mountain air.

I never met Peter Lougheed, but he certainly changed my life. Rest in peace, dear sir. I imagine my father was waiting to greet you.

I recently listened to a Ted Talk by Sir Ken Robinson. He spoke about people who enjoy their work and those who simply endure their jobs, waiting for the weekend to arrive. I can honestly say, I have never been bored at work.Time passes quickly when we are doing something we love. Each day is an adventure and a challenge. I love what I do.

It is wonderful to be surrounded by our students once again. One student on the first day of school, enveloped me in a hug and said, “I missed you every single day this summer.”  Another on Wednesday morning rushed to me and exclaimed, “Guess what? I woke up today!” And yet another, new to the school, announced unprompted, “I can tie my own shoes!”

How can our days be anything but enjoyable surrounded by such innocence and delight?

“If you don’t think every day is a good day, just try missing one.” Cavett Robert

 

 

Despite facing the end of summer, I have always enjoyed this time of year. Purchasing new school clothes, cracking open a new book, organizing school supplies, planning for the year ahead: the back-to-school buzz.

But as our district administrators joined together on August 22 at our opening meeting, it dawned on me… what I really enjoy is the sense of community the school year brings. As we come together as a staff, both old and new, and as we gather with our students on the morning of September 4, our family is reunited and our sense of purpose confirmed.

Together we will touch the lives of our students… together our enthusiasm and passion will generate momentum… together we will journey through the highs and lows of the upcoming school year… together we will teach more than the curriculum…

In Theodore Roosevelt’s words, “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” Together, we can move mountains!

My wish for you this summer: some downtime.

Enjoy the sunshine, the company of family and friends, the absence of a schedule. Enjoy your travels, your rest, your reading, your play. Enjoy a well-deserved break.

Happy summer!

 

Saturday morning I awoke to a strange sound. When I investigated, I discovered a rabbit playing with the chain attaching the barbecue to the patio. I took a few minutes to watch this rabbit; I watched it dig and scratch, twitch and jump; I watched this rabbit play.

Have you ever watched kids play? Pure, concentrated fun. Sometimes they become so engaged in their play, they forget about their need for food or bathrooms. Their primal need for play takes precedent. On Friday our floor hockey teams played against the staff. Exuberant, competitive spirits – kids AND adults – revealed themselves as the spectating students roared their approval.

As summer approaches, we too, must find some time for our favoured source of play. Whether it be putzing around a campsite, playing music in a garage band, exploring the sites of an ancient city or throwing the baseball around with your kids: find time to play.

Perhaps Plato said it best, “Life must be lived as play.”

When I look back at this year, I remember feelings of apprehension and excitement beginning at a new school. I remember the heartbreak of moving into the office of a colleague taken from this world much too soon. I remember meeting a new little student and knowing in my heart that something was dreadfully wrong. I remember trying to learn at least five new names a day. I remember relishing in the enthusiasm of our staff.

And though I did some things right this year, I also have a list of things I will certainly do differently next year. That whole hindsight thing, you know? Reflection is a powerful tool for adults and students alike. Consider asking yourself and your students these questions…

What are you proud of? What will you do differently next year? What new challenge would you like to tackle? What was the best part of the year?

I appreciate that we begin each year anew. I appreciate the chance to start over and try again. I appreciate the opportunity to rest, rejuvenate, and imagine new possibilities. Not all professions have the luxury of a fresh start each year.

One more reason I love my job.

Each day holds precious moments. Sometimes these pleasures are so small they are easy to miss.

On Monday as I was leaving school, I heard – before I saw – the icecream truck rounding the corner. Three neighbourhood kids also heard it coming: they were quite literally jumping up and down on the curb side awaiting its arrival. On Tuesday, a grade three student held a freshly printed page to his cheek and said with unexpected tenderness, “Ah… so warm.” On Wednesday, a particularly spirited student sitting in my office noticed a book on my shelf, Tools for Teaching, and said, “Can I read that? So that’s where you got all your tools. I want to read that.” On Thursday, I savoured the professional dialogue, the enthusiasm and the energy of colleagues. On Friday, in the midst of June paperwork, a grade four student who has had a challenging year, came to recite a poem to me. I told him it was the best part of my day. It was.

These moments, though small, are truly what make our job, our career, our vocation, so wonderful. These moments help us to see beyond the paperwork and deadlines. These moments help us remember why we chose this noble profession. These moments make our days both meaningful and joyful.

Stop. Take note. Don’t let a precious moment go unnoticed amid the hecticness of this June day.

10. It feels like we just started this year… wow, time flies.

9. There doesn’t seem to be enough time in the day!

8. This year, we made a positive difference in the lives of our students.

7. And yes, there are things I will do differently next year.

6. It is a stressful time for those whose jobs are uncertain.

5. Each year is what we make of it.

4. Everyone is tired: students and staff alike.

3. The countdown is on, whether you admit it or not.

2. Somehow everything that needs to get done, will get done! It’s true.

And finally…
1. We are approaching a well-deserved break. Hang in there…

I love books… for many reasons.

One of the greatest appeals is their ability to spark conversation. Whether it be Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst, The Giver by Lois Lowry, or The Diary of Anne Frank, books can be a catalyst to deep discussion. Some kids are reluctant or unsure of how to answer direct questions. Some kids have limited exposure and experience. Some kids are isolated from those around them, physically or emotionally. The power of story is the ability to invite, provoke and spark conversation. Literature exposes our students to new experiences and can be an effective tool in the development of their moral compass.

Through their reading and subsequent conversations, children have the opportunity to make sense of the world around them and explore themselves in relation to the world. When my father was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was a young teenager, my friends most certainly did not understand. I found comfort within the pages of a book. I read and reread the stories to remind myself that I was not alone in my experiences. I found some of my questions answered and was able to formulate others to ask the adults around me.

In 1896, Charles W. Eliot said, “Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counsellors, and the most patient of teachers.”

What books do you find effective with children? Share your favourite… my bookshelf always has room for more!