Balclutha, beach play, North Beach walking. Note how very spottable the boys are in their neon hoodies.
Friday, February 13, 2015
San Francisco
We visited San Francisco over a month ago and I am just now posting pictures... sorry. All I am offering is the briefest captions.
Balclutha, beach play, North Beach walking. Note how very spottable the boys are in their neon hoodies.
Musée Mecanique, including a genuine Whac-a-Mole.
Submarine: the USS Pampanito.
Golden Gate Park. In some of these the hoodies are so bright they start to wash out the rest of the photo.
Exploratorium.
The Richmond, just across the street from Dad's house.
Ocean Beach.
Balclutha, beach play, North Beach walking. Note how very spottable the boys are in their neon hoodies.
Chevruta
I love this picture of Jordan and two of his best friends studying Torah together. They are working on making an animated screencast out of the weekly reading.
Judaism has a long tradition of learning with a partner or in a small group. The partner is called your chevruta, from the word chaver, friend. The Talmud teaches that "two scholars learning together sharpen one another." Jordan agrees, but wants it amended to "three scholars."
The paper torch in the middle of the table is from their history lessons. They are studying colonial Boston to learn about the events and attitudes that shaped the country at its founding. The whole thing is very experiential: each of them is a business owner, and after researching what all it takes to run a pub or a bakery or whatever in colonial Boston, they suddenly had a lot of taxes imposed on them that made it impossible to run their businesses. They got angry and tried to hold a town meeting, but the British say that they will throw anyone in jail who speaks against the new taxes. Jordan made the torches to burn up all the tax notices. Revolution is brewing.
Judaism has a long tradition of learning with a partner or in a small group. The partner is called your chevruta, from the word chaver, friend. The Talmud teaches that "two scholars learning together sharpen one another." Jordan agrees, but wants it amended to "three scholars."
The paper torch in the middle of the table is from their history lessons. They are studying colonial Boston to learn about the events and attitudes that shaped the country at its founding. The whole thing is very experiential: each of them is a business owner, and after researching what all it takes to run a pub or a bakery or whatever in colonial Boston, they suddenly had a lot of taxes imposed on them that made it impossible to run their businesses. They got angry and tried to hold a town meeting, but the British say that they will throw anyone in jail who speaks against the new taxes. Jordan made the torches to burn up all the tax notices. Revolution is brewing.
Positive self-talk
Aaron is emotionally transparent both in sorrow and in joy. I admire his clarity, and how readily he shares his feelings with the people around him, but sometimes he is tossed by his own storm and can’t function. For example, last week he was sure his choir homework was going to be impossible, and he became outraged and despondent, and cried for 45 minutes. Once he calmed down enough to focus (with the help of his brother), the homework only took ten minutes. This is what I would call disproportionate. (Not that we haven’t all been there.)
At school, they are learning about positive and negative self-talk. They discuss how when you are worried about performing well or completing a task, it is easy to get frustrated and say things to yourself like, “This is impossible” and “I’m never going to finish,” but that makes you feel even more despairing and hopeless. They practice positive self-talk instead. During the choir homework drama, I tried to help Aaron switch to positive self-talk. I even wrote out sentences for him to read! I thought this was a great idea. Unfortunately it didn’t work on Aaron, but maybe I could use something similar on myself next time I’m upset:
1. I can take deep breaths and I will start to feel better.
2. Choir homework is a little bit hard, but it is not too hard for me! I can do it!
3. My mom will help me if I get stuck!
4. Once I get my choir homework done, I will feel very proud of myself!
5. It will not take very long! Only about 15 minutes.
6. I know how to calm myself down if I get upset.
Though Aaron did not manage to switch to positive self-talk that time, he has used it remarkably well since then. Just yesterday, facing another choir assignment, he said, “I am going to do some of this every day until I master it! And if I start to get mad and cry, I am going to calm myself down and do it anyway!” This was after he had had a breakdown during rehearsal over an assignment he had misunderstood. His choir director, Maria, took a moment to connect with him individually, and Aaron told us, “She said I should be proud of myself, and that she is enjoying being my teacher!” (In case you are wondering why choir is so demanding right now, it’s because he just moved up a level – he is adjusting.)
The most spectacular time was at his recent piano recital, which was his first ever, in front of maybe fifty people. He got off to a bad start on one of his songs and had to just pause and start over again, which I thought might be the end of him. But no, he did great! He told me later that he did this with positive self-talk. He said to himself, “I can just start over. No one minds if I pause before I start again. Maybe no one is even noticing my mistakes. I can do it. Everything is fine.” And it worked! This was an awesome demonstration to him of his self-control, and entirely independent.
At school, they are learning about positive and negative self-talk. They discuss how when you are worried about performing well or completing a task, it is easy to get frustrated and say things to yourself like, “This is impossible” and “I’m never going to finish,” but that makes you feel even more despairing and hopeless. They practice positive self-talk instead. During the choir homework drama, I tried to help Aaron switch to positive self-talk. I even wrote out sentences for him to read! I thought this was a great idea. Unfortunately it didn’t work on Aaron, but maybe I could use something similar on myself next time I’m upset:
1. I can take deep breaths and I will start to feel better.
2. Choir homework is a little bit hard, but it is not too hard for me! I can do it!
3. My mom will help me if I get stuck!
4. Once I get my choir homework done, I will feel very proud of myself!
5. It will not take very long! Only about 15 minutes.
6. I know how to calm myself down if I get upset.
Though Aaron did not manage to switch to positive self-talk that time, he has used it remarkably well since then. Just yesterday, facing another choir assignment, he said, “I am going to do some of this every day until I master it! And if I start to get mad and cry, I am going to calm myself down and do it anyway!” This was after he had had a breakdown during rehearsal over an assignment he had misunderstood. His choir director, Maria, took a moment to connect with him individually, and Aaron told us, “She said I should be proud of myself, and that she is enjoying being my teacher!” (In case you are wondering why choir is so demanding right now, it’s because he just moved up a level – he is adjusting.)
The most spectacular time was at his recent piano recital, which was his first ever, in front of maybe fifty people. He got off to a bad start on one of his songs and had to just pause and start over again, which I thought might be the end of him. But no, he did great! He told me later that he did this with positive self-talk. He said to himself, “I can just start over. No one minds if I pause before I start again. Maybe no one is even noticing my mistakes. I can do it. Everything is fine.” And it worked! This was an awesome demonstration to him of his self-control, and entirely independent.
Assessment
All the middle schools we have applied to have had some kind of visiting experience to assess the applicants, combining something sort of like a tour or Q&A with something substituting for an interview (because ten-year-olds don’t interview well). In one case there was a tour and lunch with a faculty member, in another case there was a collaborative small-group activity and a Q&A, and in a third case the applicant tagged along with a host student in that day’s classes. A fourth school, however, hosted a whole fake school day for prospective students; all the regular students had the day off, and all the faculty were there to observe the visitors.
Jordan loved the classes. In science, they did architecture. They grouped the students into teams and dumped a bunch of plastic straws and paper clips in front of them, saying something like, “Here you go, folks: Build something. And try to make it strong. Strong means it can hold up these big hardware nails over here. The record so far is 47. See what you can do.” Jordan got totally into it - when I picked him up he bubbled for five minutes about how they chose a triangle for the base because it’s the most stable shape, it had a kind of a saddle thing at the top to hold the nails, etc, etc. It sounded like a blast. In social studies they discussed current events that they knew about, and made a newspaper front page out of them. In language arts they read and discussed myths, and then wrote their own myth, something about why there are a lot of colors in the rainbow. As an educator I thought this sounded like a great way to spend a day; it seems like they must get a ton of information about the kids this way, much more than you could get from an awkward conversation over lunch. Jordan was extremely impressed with the experience and had a lot of fun, too.
This school is the only one whose application processes involves a parent visit. We had that this week. They asked us a lot of questions about how we see Jordan – three quintessential words to describe him, that kind of thing. It was a good conversation. I think we are pretty thoughtful and articulate about who our kid is. The kicker, though, was when they showed us the myth he had written. It was a whole page packed with text! He had a ton to say, and he got it onto the paper! They didn't invite us to read it, but they said it was a "wonderful piece": they said he had characters, details, and showed excellent comprehension of the reading. Really? Really? Wow. This is such a huge, dramatic change from where he was a year ago. It also suggests that they did a great job of making the activity meaningful and interesting for Jordan, because if he isn’t into it, he doesn’t write. I was amazed and so was Dale.
It took a bit for the emotions to set in (I didn't start blubbering in the interview) but for the whole rest of the day I felt overwhelmed with relief, pride, gratitude, and I don't know what else. The minute I got to work I wrote a thank you letter to his teachers. I think the team of them (and it is quite a team) are really making it happen for Jordan. He is becoming a person who can express himself in writing. I thought he might have to live without that, and I was trying to adjust to my own sense of loss, because writing is a wonderful part of life. Now I feel that no door need be closed to him… especially if he can go to a school with teachers that will support his continued growth.
This school is the only one whose application processes involves a parent visit. We had that this week. They asked us a lot of questions about how we see Jordan – three quintessential words to describe him, that kind of thing. It was a good conversation. I think we are pretty thoughtful and articulate about who our kid is. The kicker, though, was when they showed us the myth he had written. It was a whole page packed with text! He had a ton to say, and he got it onto the paper! They didn't invite us to read it, but they said it was a "wonderful piece": they said he had characters, details, and showed excellent comprehension of the reading. Really? Really? Wow. This is such a huge, dramatic change from where he was a year ago. It also suggests that they did a great job of making the activity meaningful and interesting for Jordan, because if he isn’t into it, he doesn’t write. I was amazed and so was Dale.
It took a bit for the emotions to set in (I didn't start blubbering in the interview) but for the whole rest of the day I felt overwhelmed with relief, pride, gratitude, and I don't know what else. The minute I got to work I wrote a thank you letter to his teachers. I think the team of them (and it is quite a team) are really making it happen for Jordan. He is becoming a person who can express himself in writing. I thought he might have to live without that, and I was trying to adjust to my own sense of loss, because writing is a wonderful part of life. Now I feel that no door need be closed to him… especially if he can go to a school with teachers that will support his continued growth.
Nerds
I need to step up my game on describing Jordan in a way that I can do in front of him. I tend to describe him as a nerd, and to many people (especially kids) that term is pejorative. I mean it affectionately. So what do I mean? I mean that he is intellectual; that he has strong interests in non-mainstream activities (especially music and fantasy); and that he acts his age rather than being falsely mature. I do not mean that he is socially awkward or shy; quite the contrary; he is gregarious and socially savvy. I also don’t mean that he is gawky or physically awkward, although I do mean that he is not majorly into sports. (Why do I perceive sports as incompatible with nerdiness? Do we think that making good use of your body is incompatible with making good use of your brain? Terrible. But there you have it.)
One evening at a social dinner Dale asked Jordan how he would describe his group of friends. “None of us is trying to be someone else,” he said. “We all have something wrong with us and none of us minds at all.” I love it. They are authentic with each other. Dale winced at his sense that they all “have something wrong with them,” but I liked it; I think it means that they do not hide their flaws from each other, and they accept each other in full knowledge of their eccentricities. Because the fact is that we all have eccentricities… it’s more about whether we are ashamed of them or feel able to let our freak flag fly. Apparently he and his friends feel safe with each other. To me, this is another positive quality of nerds. But instead I am going to teach myself to say things like: Intellectual, musical, imaginative, social, authentic, acts his age. It’s a start.
One evening at a social dinner Dale asked Jordan how he would describe his group of friends. “None of us is trying to be someone else,” he said. “We all have something wrong with us and none of us minds at all.” I love it. They are authentic with each other. Dale winced at his sense that they all “have something wrong with them,” but I liked it; I think it means that they do not hide their flaws from each other, and they accept each other in full knowledge of their eccentricities. Because the fact is that we all have eccentricities… it’s more about whether we are ashamed of them or feel able to let our freak flag fly. Apparently he and his friends feel safe with each other. To me, this is another positive quality of nerds. But instead I am going to teach myself to say things like: Intellectual, musical, imaginative, social, authentic, acts his age. It’s a start.
Applied
The private middle school application process is now complete. We have applied to schools A, B, C, and D, and maybe it is weird that I’m not telling you which is which but we are still in the application process and this is a public blog! (If you care to know I’ll gladly tell you non-publicly.) We have attended tours, open houses, visit days, parent interviews, focus groups, and informational sessions. We have completed four different applications, including questionnaires, essay questions, transcripts, IQ tests, standardized test scores, and teacher recommendations. We have also completed and three distinct (and extensive) financial aid applications.
All of us like all the schools. All of us have the same favorite, and the same pair of second-favorites, and the same one we like the least but still better than our neighborhood public school. I call that a successful process! Jordan can especially see himself at School A, which he perceives as being full of kids like him. When he said that to one of his teachers, she asked, “What are you like?” and he said, “I make friends easily, I get along with a lot of people, I am kind. I hope it is okay to say that but this is how I see myself.” I think this is a very nice way to see yourself. I also think he would fit in very well with the kids at School A, though I would describe their similarities differently (I will try to articulate that later).
Jordan is very perceptive about the social environment at the different schools. At one point he said, “The kids at [School B] were nice, but I wonder if they are mainly nice at first. I think they are kind of like [name withheld],” naming a kid he knows who is a major “cool kid” (and not Jordan’s type). I think he totally hit the nail on the head…that is exactly my impression of the kids at that school. And this is nothing anyone would have said to him; he detects this kind of thing with his finely tuned social radar. Another exchange we had, after a visit to School C in which I asked him to reflect on all the schools he had visited:
Jordan: I liked [School C] fine. I think [School A] is a lot like SJCS.
Me: In what way?
Jordan: They are both open to ideas.
Me: What do you mean by that?
Jordan: If you have a suggestion about how something could be better at the school then they will consider it. Because they think other people might have really good ideas. Including kids.
Me: And you think [School C] is not so much like that?
Jordan: It seems like they feel like they are already very good the way they are, so they do not need to be open to ideas.
ZING! He is so right: School C is more polished, whereas School A, like SJCS, has a more community-based feel to it. I think it is fascinating that he picked up on this. It’s nothing that any adult at School C would have said.
Now we wait and see who admits us, and who offers us a financial aid package that makes attendance feasible for our family (if anyone). My fingers-crossed guess is that School A admits us and gives us financial aid we can maybe sort of live with, School B admits us and gives us next to no financial aid, and Schools C and D don’t admit us because they get a million applicants for about five spaces each.
All of us like all the schools. All of us have the same favorite, and the same pair of second-favorites, and the same one we like the least but still better than our neighborhood public school. I call that a successful process! Jordan can especially see himself at School A, which he perceives as being full of kids like him. When he said that to one of his teachers, she asked, “What are you like?” and he said, “I make friends easily, I get along with a lot of people, I am kind. I hope it is okay to say that but this is how I see myself.” I think this is a very nice way to see yourself. I also think he would fit in very well with the kids at School A, though I would describe their similarities differently (I will try to articulate that later).
Jordan is very perceptive about the social environment at the different schools. At one point he said, “The kids at [School B] were nice, but I wonder if they are mainly nice at first. I think they are kind of like [name withheld],” naming a kid he knows who is a major “cool kid” (and not Jordan’s type). I think he totally hit the nail on the head…that is exactly my impression of the kids at that school. And this is nothing anyone would have said to him; he detects this kind of thing with his finely tuned social radar. Another exchange we had, after a visit to School C in which I asked him to reflect on all the schools he had visited:
Jordan: I liked [School C] fine. I think [School A] is a lot like SJCS.
Me: In what way?
Jordan: They are both open to ideas.
Me: What do you mean by that?
Jordan: If you have a suggestion about how something could be better at the school then they will consider it. Because they think other people might have really good ideas. Including kids.
Me: And you think [School C] is not so much like that?
Jordan: It seems like they feel like they are already very good the way they are, so they do not need to be open to ideas.
ZING! He is so right: School C is more polished, whereas School A, like SJCS, has a more community-based feel to it. I think it is fascinating that he picked up on this. It’s nothing that any adult at School C would have said.
Now we wait and see who admits us, and who offers us a financial aid package that makes attendance feasible for our family (if anyone). My fingers-crossed guess is that School A admits us and gives us financial aid we can maybe sort of live with, School B admits us and gives us next to no financial aid, and Schools C and D don’t admit us because they get a million applicants for about five spaces each.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
