Lightsaber

The other extraordinary thing that Jordan did in the second week of Jedi Academy was to build his own lightsaber. Is this the coolest camp you have ever heard of in your life, or what? Jordan's is an amazing piece of work. Only the light tube is prefabricated; he built the handle, the switch, and the circuitry inside it from scratch, right down to soldering the electrical connections. They used saws, a soldering iron, a heat gun, and various other serious equipment. He is extremely proud.

He uses it to give lightsaber lessons to Aaron. One of them has to use a pool noodle instead of the real thing. (They had decided to dress identically that day.)

Of course, because Jordan built the lightsaber himself, he knows exactly how it all goes together. Aaron wanted to know too so Jordan sat down to explain it to him.

Here is a closeup of his diagram:

Overall we think this was a heck of a way to spend two weeks of summer!

Jedi Academy

We signed the kids up for summer camp at the Evergreen School this year, which is new territory for us. Both kids are enjoying themselves very much, but Jordan especially hit the jackpot: He spent two weeks in Jedi Academy. This camp, for 10-13 year olds, builds all the physical and mental skills that a Jedi needs, including running and conditioning, meditation and yoga, beginning fencing, lightsaber technique, and hand-body-eye coordination training. 

Here is Jordan demonstrating his cool fencing gear and proper form. Fencing was not at all what he expected: first of all, there is an overwhelming quantity of rules, and second of all, it is not swordfighting so much as poking. But he loved it, loved the gear even though it was hot, loved the footwork even though it was confusing, and worked hard enough to have a sore right shoulder most days.

Lightsaber fighting is a whole different thing because you attack with the side of the blade. They learned a variety of "lightsaber forms," which are defined patterns of attack and defense moves. The lightsabers they use in this course are beautiful, really works of art, and surprisingly whackable.

Here is Jordan warming up with Ethan, a friend of his from boychoir who happened to be in the same camp.

The grownup in the supercool black body armor is Shayé, their instructor. Shayé is also a teacher at the Evergreen School during the school year, teaching science, math, and fine arts, as well as fencing. He has Jordan's complete respect.

And a good thing too, because Shayé made them do all kinds of crazy stuff in the conditioning sessions, like plank pose and pushups on the wood chips. If they complained that it hurt their hands, he told them to meditate while doing it. He taught them to pay attention to the sensations in their hands and spread the sensation gradually through their arms, shoulders, body, legs, toes, and so on to dissipate it. Jordan has since used his Jedi mind-calming techniques on his own, and taught them to Aaron.

The second week, they did two additional extraordinary things. One is that they choreographed a lightsaber fight scene from one of the Star Wars movies. Parents were invited to the dramatic performances on the last day. Here is Jordan with his new buddy and scene partner, Orion.

The performances were each just a couple minutes long. Each one started with a bit of dialogue, erupted into a lightsaber fight, and ended when one of the characters was killed. Most of the choreography went into planning the fight, which includes not only lightsaber techniques but also moves like "force push," "force choke," "force lightning," and so on. You may remember Darth Vader using "force choke" regularly on his commanders, and the Emperor using "force lightning" on Luke. Here is Jordan and Orion's scene for your enjoyment.

The other extraordinary thing has to go in a second post.

Jokes

A few days ago Aaron told me that other kids get a little note in their lunches and asked if he could get  note too. Who can turn down such a sweet request? So I put notes in both of their lunches the next day. There is a greeting, a joke, and the plan for the afternoon. Like this:

Dear Aaron -- Happy Tuesday!
   Q. Why don't sharks eat clowns?
   A. Because they taste funny.
Tonight is burrito night! I will pick you up about 5:15. Love, Mommy.

The jokes are supremely dorky kid jokes and we all love them. More gems:

Q. Why was the math book sad?
A. Because it had too many problems.

Q. Why did the musical note have to go to jail?
A. Because it was under a rest.

Q. Why did the dinosaur cross the road?
A. Because there were no chickens yet.

Q. Why was the ocean very uncomfortable?
A. Because it had crabs on its bottom.

The fact that some of them are susceptible to innuendo is not something we discuss.

Audition

Aaron auditioned for the Northwest Boychoir today! I love this picture, in spite of the backlighting and the storage-closet environs: it shows so clearly how Ben pays attention, and how Aaron is listening. This was during the pitch-matching exercise, when Ben would play a chord and Aaron would sing the notes he heard. This was challenging, but he did pretty well.

By that time he had completed his solo and was feeling pretty good about things. Back at home, he had had an attack of nerves: he said he was not ready, and he was afraid they would tell him he did a bad job. He is a very different kid from Jordan... Jordan doesn't worry about things in advance (although he does sometimes lose his nerve in the moment), and even if he did, he tends to keep negative emotions to himself. Aaron is both more of a worrier and more expressive. But he also cheers up pretty readily, especially with the help of his brother. Jordan and I gave him pep talks and he felt much better. He was excited about his song (the Pharrell Williams song "Happy"), which he learned with his school choir. In his solo, he sang quietly, but musically, and he did not let his nerves get the better of him. After that there was the pitch matching, some rhythm matching (Ben claps a rhythm and Aaron claps it back), and some plain old reading (a page from Where the Wild Things Are). And that was it! We got the callback, and he goes in Thursday afternoon for a group session with the other new boys. Aaron is thrilled with his achievement.

Jordan's boychoir audition, when he was a year older than Aaron is now, was the beginning of something that has become a big part of our family life. We are very happy to have both of our kids mentored by Ben and the other teachers in this great organization.

Mitzvah Day

Our temple's religious school does an event every year called Mitzvah Day, at which every grade in the school does a different community service project. Third graders make a dozen lasagnas for Teen Feed, an agency serving homeless youth in the University District; preschoolers turn baby socks into cat toys for the Seattle Animal Shelter; seventh graders restore habitat in Magnuson Park; fourth graders assemble personal hygiene kits for women at Mary's Place; and so on. Each agency sends a representative to teach the students about who they are helping. For example, someone comes from Teen Feed with a backpack full of the things a homeless teenager might carry with her, and helps the third graders understand why those are the things they need. There are about 400 kids involved, grades preK-7, and they do about two hours of service each, so it is really quite a thing.

Mitzvah Day is run entirely by parents. I have been a grade-level coordinator with my friend Christiane for a few years now, meaning that the two of us were in charge of one grade's project. We planned the logistics of our grade's activity, solicited supplies from other parents, lined up volunteers, and made it all happen on the day itself. This year, Christiane and I were asked to be the Mitzvah Day Co-Chairs, meaning that we recruit all the grade-level coordinators, line things up with the agencies, set up electronic supply signup lists, and do all the other preparation so that the grade-level coordinators' job is as easy as possible. We are a good team; we like each other, we get things done, she worries and I reassure, and it's all lined up in advance. I like doing it. I also like making flyers about it.

And wow, is Mitzvah Day ever impressive in action. Christiane and I both spent it buzzing around to all the different classrooms, solving various last minute problems (not enough ziploc bags! need more pinto beans! where are the markers!), and the work going on was something to see. It was amazing being in the position of seeing all the projects, instead of just one at a time.

Second graders making birthday cards for foster kids at Treehouse For Kids.

 Kindergarteners making laminated placemats for the elderly at Providence Elderplace.

 Preschoolers making cat toys out of socks for Seattle Animal Shelter. So flippin' cute.

Sixth graders learning about the clients served by the Downtown Emergency Services Center, then writing letters to their actual state representatives to advocate for homeless issues. (Fascinating fact: They were not aware of how to address an envelope.) After that they put together 100 nonperishable breakfast bags for DESC clients.

Fifth graders bagged 675 lbs (!!) of dry goods (rice, beans, oats, sugar) into family-size portions for a food bank, then figured out what it would mean to try and feed a family of four on $40 a week.

 Fourth graders created 120 personal hygiene kits for the women served by Mary's Place.

The kids felt GREAT, and rightly so.

Passover

We were guests at two wonderful Seders this year, both very interactive and engaging as well as meaningful and delicious, but only one with photos. Here we are at the Weinstein's on the first night of Passover, with the Bersons as well.

The table was gorgeous.

Amara and Emanuel wowed us with songs at every opportunity.

To better experience what it was like to be a slave (or a slave-driver?), we whipped each other with scallions.

There were ten Plague Masks.

Grandpa was a particularly frightening Death Of The First Born.

 Everyone read and acted and ate and drank and had a great time.

We had a very involved skit to re-enact the story of Exodus. Here is Amara as Moses, John's brother in-law as Pharaoh, and me as a slave. A whole team of children acted out each plague

Finally the Red Sea parted and we ran to freedom. (That is hail and locusts on the ground.)

And delicious passover desserts... flourless cake with strawberries and cream from Hannah, matzah roca, almond lace cookies, and coconut-raspberry macaroons from me.

 It was really all we could possibly have asked for in a Seder! And after that we were pretty much done for the week. :)

Fundraising

Jordan has had an extraordinary series of learning experiences this week selling raffle tickets for the Northwest Boychoir. Last year we did this mostly door to door. Jordan was terrific at this: polite, charming, and reasonably informative. This photo is from last year, at a neighbor's house.

Though it is fun to go to your friends' houses, going door to door is very slow and not very lucrative. Very often no one is home, and very often people say no, and each house takes multiple minutes. Since Jordan is required to sell at least 75 raffle tickets (our family has to buy whatever he doesn't sell), we needed something more efficient. Last year I saw another Boychoir family using a system that seemed like total genius to me: The mom and her son were in front of Whole Foods, and the boy (in his Boychoir uniform) strolled around singing, and the mom had a little portable table with her iPad and a Square thingy to take credit cards, and a sign at the table said "Ask Me To Sing!" They appeared to me to be making money hand over fist. So I totally copied them. I got us a little portable table at a thrift store, and a Square reader, and put together a whole little setup. I got pretty excited.

Jordan was enthusiastic about the plan, but the first time we tried it did not go well at all. The whole thing was much more scary and embarrassing than he had anticipated. He hated it. He would not speak, he would not look at anyone, he hunched over, he did everything he could to disappear into the display of potted tulips behind him. I pep-talked him like crazy but he just dug in his heels. It was very unpleasant. For twenty minutes we were at an impasse. Here he is with the nifty setup, giving me his "I want to get out of here" look.

Then an angel descended in the form of a woman about my age. She saw exactly what was going on, walked right into Jordan's space, and said, "Hello! Are you selling raffle tickets? What are they for? What could I win? Are you in the boychoir?" She very pleasantly dragged him through his spiel, bought two tickets, and complimented the heck out of him. And that was exactly what he needed. He was unlocked. He would not sing, but he cheerfully pitched his pitch to a hundred people, and sold a nice little bunch of tickets, and went home happy.

The next time we tried it the weather was bad and there was competition from a grumpy homeless gentleman; we didn't stay long. Yesterday, though, the weather was good, we had all the time we needed, and Jordan had a great evening of sales. He learned to speak more loudly and to move up to people instead of being rooted in one spot. He observed that even though a lot of people say no, there are so many people that even if only a small fraction of them stop, he can sell a lot of tickets. He got a lot of practice hearing people say no, and instead of getting discouraged, just kept asking the next person. He honed his pitch. A super guy who was doing some fundraising across the street for another cause came over and actually coached him: he explained that people are more interested in the cause than in the raffle, so instead of saying "Would you like to buy a raffle ticket?" he advised Jordan to say "Help the Northwest Boychoir!" Jordan found that this absolutely worked, and was amazed, and very grateful. Another woman told Jordan that he was lucky to get a chance to develop these skills, because they were skills he would use all his life; she herself was a political organizer. Another man said he would love to contribute because he was in a boychoir himself (in San Francisco) and it was a huge influence on him; he is now a professor of music at UW. Another woman, the mother of a girl Jordan had waved over because he knew her from zoo camp, said Jordan was "such a gentleman, in those nice pants." Jordan was thrilled. He sold his whole minimum, and is eager to sell more (which will put money directly into our account for summer camp). Here he is at the end of our evening, feeling great about himself.

I felt great too. I felt like a spontaneous community of total strangers was rooting for him, some by buying tickets and some with other kinds of encouragement. We talked on the way home about how fantastic it was, that he could just ask people, and some of them were happy to help. I still think he would make a ton more money if he would sing! He says no; but maybe next time.