It's been a day for reflection, something it took me a while to realize I needed. I've been walking around for a couple of days feeling as if I've been in a cloud of random emotions. One root of this is undoubtedly my sister-in-law's sudden diagnosis. My brother and I have never been what would pass for close, but he is my brother and a good counterweight to some of the traits I've inherited from our parents. I usually glance at the obituaries in the local paper just to see if anyone I know is listed. Lately, I've been reading the obits, interested in if anyone I knew or didn't died of covid-19. Some very interesting people have died recently; at least there have been some interesting obituaries. I sometimes wonder if I should draft my obit. My father did that, and included that he had a PhD in organic chemistry. I wonder if that was intentional. He did have a doctorate, but it was an EdD in biology education. Somewhere around here is a copy of his dissertation. I've got a copy of my mom's around here, too.
And part of the need to reflect comes from the general anxiety about what could have happened this past weekend and what could happen this week. Let us please get through this week without the hate and violence simmering beneath the surface. The next four years may be even harder than the four just passed. It's going to take longer than four years to straighten up the mess this country has become. This morning my graduate supervisor sent me a link his daughter had sent him, https://youtu.be/2qzAt3pA780 . If you don't have time to watch it, it's a musical performance of "The President Sang Amazing Grace." Remember when we had a President who believed in healing, a President who did not use nicknames or insults, a President we could respect? I remember those days that seem so very long ago now. How can I wax nostalgic about a period that really just happened? I'm thankful The Sons are old enough that I do not have to explain to them why the past four years have been so trying.
In a back-and-forth with my graduate supervisor, he sent me a summary of a talk he'd given that included a summary of the teachers who had had the most impact on him. He would be on my own list of such teachers. The problem is that I can't think of many if any other such teachers along my own educational journey. Does the math professor whose name I can't recall and whose refusal to let me do an independent study for the second quarter topology class for which I was the only student registered count? He's the reason my math major became a math minor and I switched my major to psychology. I actually recall very few of my teachers by name. Does that mean that the ones whose names I do recall had some impact on me that I may be overlooking? I do remember Mrs. Sorenson, my first grade teacher who had trouble with the fact that I already knew how to read. I remember that in the reading group I was forced to join, she once asked what got wet when you were using an umbrella. I replied that the soles of your footwear got wet. She refused to accept that answer and therein may lie the roots of my future discounting of most teachers.
I can, however, think of people who have taught me things outside a classroom, people who might be called role models or mentors or Friends (The capital F makes these people extra-special friends). I can think of several who have had a real impact. These people know who they are, so I won't out them here. They are people I do not want to lose from my life, which may be one reason I worry about how fast and far he coronavirus is spreading. I pray often that these people stay safe. I have much more to learn from them, I think. I'll reflect on them and their impacts as I chop veggies for tonight's (and tomorrow's) salad.
No comments:
Post a Comment