Another Letter of Recommendation

Since I posted son # 2's Eagle Scout recommendation letter here, I thought I would pull out son # 1's and add it. The Eagle Committee Chairwoman told me at the time that it was the best one she'd ever read:

Eagle Scout Recommendation for Ben

When we look around at all the young men that we know, there are always those that stand out.  They are accomplished, talented, wonderful young men.  Everyone is always pointing to them as examples and guiding lights for the other young men around them.

Well, Ben is not one of those fortunate young men.  He has struggled with challenges his entire life.  As a young elementary student he was diagnosed with a learning disability.  He could still not read at the beginning of third grade.  Sheer will, determination, and the help of loving teachers and a (sometimes) patient mother got him through that hardship.  Unfortunately, he also suffered from a profound lack of fine motor skills, which led to extremely bad handwriting and not a lot of success in athletics on the playground. Due to the stigmatism of those years, he had problems with developing friendships.  He always seemed to be the odd one out.  It is a hard thing to feel like you have no one to invite over to your house.  However, he stuck it through those years and kept on going.

As he entered junior high, he continued to struggle.  He was the butt of many classroom jokes and ridicule.  He developed a strong thick skin which was actually contrary to his original loving nature as a child.  He became angry and hard to manage, and it only continued to get worse and worse.  Finally, we as his parents felt that there was something more to this than just teenage angst.  We took him for a professional analysis.

The diagnosis was not good.  Ben suffered from Bipolar disorder and suspected Aspergers.  His world was spiraling out of control.  He experienced bouts of euphoria and very little sleep followed by episodes of depression and suicidal thoughts.  If this wasn’t bad enough, he also suffered from ADD, which was not treatable while he was on the medication for Bipolar.

Amazingly enough, throughout all of these problems, many of which were overwhelming even to his adult parents, Ben continued to try to do his best.  And honestly, sometimes his best is not anywhere near as good as the best that some of those more fortunate young men seem to achieve almost without effort.  However, Ben’s best, although it may be seem a more paltry offering, is truly an effort born of more desire, will, and sheer gumption than anyone will ever know.  Every little success he has ever had has been born of years of failure.  Every C and B has been a triumph over adversity that his teachers do not even begin to understand.

As we look back on our son’s mighty struggles and the few accolades that he has to show for them, we feel that he has truly been an example in our lives of the importance of doing your best, even when it seems like it doesn’t change anything or that it doesn’t make much of a difference.  Ben will never be the star quarterback or the homecoming king.  In fact, sometimes we wonder if he will graduate from high school.  But the one thing that we don’t wonder about is whether or not he is doing the best that he can.  Because we know that in his own quiet, unheralded, uniquely Ben way, he is, and for that, he is a hero and worthy of this Eagle Scout Award in our eyes.

Mom and Dad

Just For Laughs

Walk and Write

Here is my writing from the walk and write I did during a CUWP session on the BYU campus. Enjoy!

As I sit here looking at this broad expanse of windows, I can't help but think--why? What is so beautiful on the other side that merits such an expansive view? I guess it all depends on where your point of view lies. Directly opposite there is a building that is nondescript and really unremarkable. Here in front there is a lovely courtyard--but nothing too incredible.
But if you let your gaze move upwards, you are suddenly gifted with an amazing view of majestic mountain peaks punctuated by the rather large and conspicuous Y above BYU. This brings back memories of clear mornings as a freshman here when you could suddenly see the mountains again and realize what a beautiful setting this really is.

Where is he going--this young man with guitar in hand, striding purposefully across the campus at 10:30 AM on a Saturday morning? It's a little too early to be going to a rock concert and a little too late for waking your true love from bed with a morning serenade. Perhaps he is heading somewhere as mundane as a Saturday morning guitar session, or perhaps he is on his way to try out for a position in the latest group. His heart is in his throat and pounding as he thinks about this chance, perhaps his last chance, to make it big--or at least as big as you can get here in the sleepy berg of Provo, Utah.

Letters of Recommendation

As a high school teacher, I write a lot of letters of recommendation. Today I had the special privilege to write one for my own son:

February 5, 2013

To Whom It May Concern:

Caleb has always been a unique person. He has gone his own way and chosen his own path. Along the journey, he has developed and shown many qualities that I think will both help him in his upcoming adult life and qualify him to become an Eagle Scout.

Caleb has always been a tenderhearted child. He hates to see or hear fighting in his family, so he has always been a peacemaker between his siblings. He has a loving, trusting nature that I have always admired as a mother. He also has a heightened sense of fairness and kindness for the downtrodden and picked on (it may have something to do with his status as the baby in the family). In any case, he is a champion for many rights and causes.

He is a good, loyal, and faithful friend. He has developed some very close friendships in high school, and he and his friends do a lot of things together. Most of them are just normal teenage things such playing video and board games and eating everything in sight. But, they have done some very remarkable things, too. Last year, Caleb and a group of his friends planned, prepared, and worked for a week to put on a Camp Halfblood for the kids in one friend’s neighborhood. The kids had an amazing time, and Caleb and his friends gained valuable experience.

That is not to say he doesn’t have a few traits that drive me crazy. For one thing, he is as stubborn as a rock pile. However, this stubborn streak also makes him willing to keep trying and toiling at things long after many people would have given up and moved on. For example, he has been working on creating his own computer game for years. He’s designed all the backgrounds, characters, and music for it. He’s put it out for comment a few times, and some of the feedback has been less than complimentary. Rather than giving up, he just keeps working on it to make it better.

Caleb is also a bit of a perfectionist. Sometimes he struggles to get things done because the finished product is not quite up to his standards. As we all know, perfectionism can be a blessing and a curse. This is something he has to deal with, and I admire him for the gains he has made (and hopefully will continue to make) in this area.

Caleb is just an ordinary teenage boy. He has areas where he struggles; he is an infamous procrastinator, he occasionally stays up too late; he forgets to do his homework. He is far from being the poster child of ideal behavior. That said, he is a kind, thoughtful, loving son; a sweet and only slightly spoiled brother; a valued and humorous friend; and a motivated student with two years of college under his belt.

As a high school teacher, I write many letters of recommendation. In this case, I can say without reservation that I feel that Caleb has the qualities of and has spent the time and effort necessary to be an Eagle Scout.

Mom

Science Fiction . . . or Fact?

Wow. I've got to try this with my science oriented kids -- Lab Lit: Writing Fiction Based on Real Science.

Remembering the Man in the Water

This is a very good blog post at KBYU that I think I'll use with "Man in the Water" this year.

Thoughts on Freezing to Death...

I had my students read an amazing informative article, "As Freezing Persons Recollect the Snow--First Chill--Then Stupor--Then the Letting Go:  The cold hard facts of freezing to death" by Peter Stark today in preparation for a unit on informative writing. I love the story that frames the information and how he uses the story -- from beginning to end -- to point out how the freezing person (who he appropriately calls "you" throughout -- what a great way to draw the reader into the story) feels and reacts physically and mentally. Then Stark tells us the name of the phenomenon and explains exactly what is going on inside your body that causes the reaction, from pre-shivering muscle tone to paradoxical undressing. He also adds interesting little tidbits of information throughout the paper -- historical tales of freezing people, adaptations of Australian aborigines and Inuit hunters, Nazi Dachau prison experiments, etc. And to make things even more serendipitous, we will be reading "The Man in the Water" as part of our hero unit. Perfection! Anyway, as preparation for reading, I had the students write about experiences they had with the cold. As usual, I wrote along with them. Here are my two efforts:

I know this gets old and you think that everyone says this, but it really was a lot colder 20 – 30 years ago here in Utah when I was a college student here.

I lived down below the BYU campus in some rinky-dink little apartments. Every day I would walk up a long, steep hill to the main campus. I’m a natural early riser, so this would be for eight or even seven o’clock classes. At that time in the morning, the sun hasn’t even come up here in Utah, so everything was bleak and cold and
. . . icy.

I am from Arizona. You know, that warm place down South. I was not used to cold. Snow. Ice. Precipitation of any kind. Walking on snow and ice. Hmmm…

Well, one day I was gingerly making my way up the cold and snowy, icy hill that I traversed on my way to Organic Chemistry, Anatomy, Phrenology, or Psychology, or whatever class it was. I was naturally in a hurry and . . . I slipped. Hard. On the cold, dark ice right on my butt. Now, I had a big black splotch on my behind, but even worse than that, I had injured my tailbone, and when I went to stand up – I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. I could only lay there on the snow and ice and wish to die . . . because at least then I would be warm, because I was probably going to the hot place.

Anyway, I lay there for about ten minutes until some hunky boy rescued me and carried me to the student services office… but that is a tale for another time.

Back in 2012 I was a volunteer for the Winter Olympics. I did one nighttime shift at the Peaks Ice Arena in the back where we checked in and out dignitaries, athletes, VIPs, etc. The problem was this was women’s ice hockey at the Peaks, so we weren’t getting too many of these big shots. What I did get was an eight hour experience of working in a freezer. We were right next to the ice, and it was around 5 degrees in the room that we were in. All night.

The only perk of that experience was checking in a male athlete. I would give them a dish to put their metal objects in while they were scanned. Usually we got keys, wallets, change. That night I got a gold medal. So . . .  I can say I got to hold a 2002 Gold Medal in my hand. The sad thing is that I can’t remember any more whose gold medal it was. Ah well.

A Day of Silence in Memorium

"How It Feels to Be Colored Me" Ideas

As it is the end of the year, I wanted to make sure that my students have exposure to writing by women, people of color, etc. We spent a little time on the Harlem Renaissance, and one of the pieces that is in our book is "How It Feels to Be Colored Me" by Zora Neale Hurston. I love this essay because she is so positive in it, despite the obvious discriminations she experienced from being a black woman in the 1920s. Anyway, after reading the essay, I had my students watch this TED talk, and then we all wrote a positive experience journal. It was kind of fun to get upbeat for a while, because so much of what we read in English is, let's face it, a bit of a downer.

Pretty Good is Not Good Enough

I think I'll share this with my students today:

How to Amaze Your Students

My students are always awed and amazed that I can read Chaucer and sound just like this. Such fun.

Anger

I thought I'd post a little more of the writing I've been doing with students. My subject (chosen by my writing group) was anger. I decided to mimic the style of J. Ruth Gendler's The Book of Qualities.

Anger

When Anger walks into a room, everyone is instantly on guard. You never know quite what to say and just how to act around her. It’s not just her face, heavily scarred from adolescent battles, or even her reputation as a fighter that silences everyone. No, it goes deeper than that.

Some even say that she has a split personality, because at times she is cold and hard as year-old ice cream and just sits back and stares and stares and stares, while at other times, she is a lit firecracker and only the slightest word or touch will set her off.

Anger spends her days sharpening knives at the local hardware store. All day, every day, grinding, grinding, grinding. She’s very good at what she does. She can put a long, slow edge on a knife or a quick, sharp one, but in the end, they all cut about the same.

She is meticulous about everything she hears and sees and does. She remembers every little detail and insists on bringing those little details up over and over again. She definitely never forgets a wrong, perceived or real. She likes truth but insists that the truth be her own truth. She has no room for anyone else’s point of view.

Sad to say, Anger’s never been very popular.  Nobody wants to see Anger drive up to the house, especially right before dinner.  All the same, she seems to show up frequently, and no one is ever quite sure how she got there. Even though Anger doesn’t have many friends, Pain and Regret do follow her around and often seem to arrive just as she’s leaving.

Discussion vs. Argument (or Just Plain Put-Downs)

For everyone I know and love--keep this in mind this election season:
http://rambleramble.com/2012/08/30/to-everyone-i-know-during-this-election/
I really don't think I could say it any better than she does.

Writing with the Kids

Here is some writing I did in front of my students, with my students, in my classes yesterday a la Kelly Gallagher. We brainstormed about the tastes of our childhood, and then I quickly wrote a paragraph about one of mine from my list. Then it was their turn, and they wrote while I edited and revised my original paragraphs. Here are the edited versions--I wish I'd kept the originals!

Lemons with Salt:

Just looking at this is making my mouth water.

I’ve always been a real hoarder—just of things that are very important. So it comes as no surprise that I’ve kept every book I ever owned. Occasionally I go back through those old books, and when I do, I often find brown stains and a gritty substance between the pages. Rather than reducing the book’s value in my eyes, this residue always make me smile. I know what it means—someone (that would be me) ate a lemon with salt and got a little too excited, spilling some of that salty, sour goodness out onto the page for someone else to find years later. Today I can’t eat lemons with salt—it really wreaks havoc with your tooth enamel, but thanks to the stains, I’ll always have the memories of those lazy days spent reading my precious books and enjoying an escape from the everyday world of my small-town existence.


Cheddar Cheese: (this one didn't really get edited) 

Where are the saltine crackers?

Of all the foods we used to have at my mother’s house, there are probably none with as much emotional baggage as plain old cheddar cheese. My mom used to buy it in great hunks cut directly from the even larger hunk the butcher kept in the front case. She didn’t know that there were any other kinds of cheese. American? Never even knew that existed until I went to college. Parmesan? Mozzarella? Gouda? Nope. Everything from pizza to spaghetti was topped with good old yellow cheddar. We even cut pieces from it to nibble on like hairless rodents as we vegetated in front of the TV. So, to me, cheese will always be cheddar, the more the better, and skip everything else.

Hmmm...I think I'll pass....

Pecan Sandies:
As someone who teaches about memories and writing, I am fully aware that some people say that food memories are some of the strongest. If this really is the case, then I should probably stay far, far, away from pecan sandies. Pecan sandies aren’t as common now as they once were, but for you who are uninitiated, they are strange, hard, tasteless little cookies made by those infamous Keebler elves. At some point in my hazy elementary years, I came down with a severe case of strep throat. My parents didn’t believe in doctors, mainly because we didn’t have medical insurance, so they didn’t take me in to see one until I was nearly done for. By that time, I could barely open my mouth, and I was mildly delirious with a high fever. The doctor stood about ten feet away as he looked at my throat, which by now was as white as cotton. It didn’t take him long to diagnose strep. He sent me home with an antibiotic. My sweet mom thought food made everything better, so on the way home, as she filled the prescription, she purchased a box of pecan sandies. For reasons only known to my seven or eight year old self, I ate several and then promptly threw up. That was the last food I had for several days, as I was relegated to laying in bed and drooling into a cup for the next 48 hours. All I kept thinking about was the terrible taste of those pecan sandies, both going down and coming up. To this day, I shudder when I see that ubiquitous yellow package sitting on a grocery shelf. I’m old enough now to know that food can make you feel better, but not when you are too sick to enjoy it. So, when my own kids are sick, I bring them books and video games instead of food, and we all stay much happier.

Books and Art

Here's a blog post that combines two of my favorite things: books and art. Enjoy!

Persuasive Writing in the Real World

I debated about adding this to my blog, but then I decided it's too fun not to. My son sent this letter to me while the BHW (Best Husband in the World) and I were on our second honeymoon in England this summer. My oldest daughter was in charge, and he didn't want to go on a youth activity he had signed up for. She told him he would have to convince his Dad and me to say he didn't have to go. So...he wrote this letter to us.

I've been through a lot of camping and outdoorsy stuff throughout my life. Sometimes it's really fun and a good experience, other times it only serves to be a stressful and unsatisfying experience devoid of any fun or enjoyment. This year's youth conference would not be one that I would enjoy. 

First of all, I've been having a hard time sleeping this week, and it's hard enough to sleep in a tent already. I would have to spend 2 nights in an uncomfortable position for around 8-10 hours while staring at the ceiling of my tent. I'd be very tired all throughout the day with the sun bearing down on me. 

Second, while I can wear white shirts for about 3-4 hours, after a while it becomes unbearable. White shirts make me sweat. Badly. Short sleeved shirts are bearable but having to walk around with a white sleeve shirt all day without changing clothes would be torture. 

Third and probably most important, there's no real reward behind doing any of this, at least not that I'm interested in. In other campouts you get to hike to the top of a mountain, explore a narrow submerged canyon, or find a waterfall. In this campout you just wander around on a patch of dirt and meet people that don't even matter to you because you'll hardly ever see them again because you go to a different school. If I wanted to have fun with other people on a campout I'd rather have it be spontaneous and unorganized so you can actually hang out instead of doing things like "square dancing." The only thing that this trek promises is that it will "build character," which seems to be tagged on to anything that is either boring, painful, or uncomfortable. If I wanted more character, it seems like I'd get it just as easily by putting my hand on a hot stove, locking myself in a box for 24 hours, or pouring citrus into my eyes. 

I'm doing something that I normally wouldn't do (writing a 5 paragraph essay) in order to illustrate how much I think it would be a bad idea for me to go, so don't shrug this email off. I'll look forward to your response.

Well, after reading (and laughing) the BHW and I came up with this response:

I've been through a lot of experiences in my life, too, and I can tell you that often those that don't seem like they will be a lot of fun are usually the ones that end up teaching me the best lessons. I think a lot of it has to do with attitude. 

You may not know this, but there is a chemical in your body called melatonin that helps tell your body when to go to sleep. Your body releases melatonin when you've been up for about 16 hours, when it gets dark, and especially when you have a set time to go to bed every night. That's why it's so important for you and your health to get a healthy 8-10 hours of sleep from 10-11 PM on every night. If not, you are messing with your body's natural melatonin cycle, and that's not good. Just something to keep in mind. 

Sweat is never fun at the best of times. I used to sweat so much that I started using a special kind of deodorant that keeps me from sweating at all. Period. If you are interested, you may want to ask me about it. 

I think that hiking and trekking and even square dancing can be very fun, but it is always more fun when you are doing it with friends. Are you still planning on doing the Camp Halfblood with Chandler? When is all that happening? 

In short, I am okay with you not going on the trek. I am not okay with you sleeping your summer away and sleeping through church. Do you think you could try to clean up some of those bad habits that you've got yourself into? And, if you are not going on the trek, can you please call your leaders and let them know? Also, you should have your sister Megan write us a five paragraph essay and tell us how her job search is coming. If it is anywhere near as entertaining as yours is, I'm sure it will be the highlight of our day. 

Love, Mom with Dad's approval

Messing Around With IShowU

This is a program I'm considering trying out as a way to read the kids' papers. I'll need to get a little tablet to really have it work the way I want it to.

TIOBE & ... Aladdin & Mean Girls?

I'm going to show these pieces today and let the kids think about any parallels they may have with The Importance of Being Earnest that we just finished last week.

Awkward

I thought it might be fun to share some more writing. This isn't my best effort, but, hey, at least I'm trying. This was a piece I wrote with my students about an awkward moment:

Awkward!!!

Denée Tyler

I am going to Arizona for Thanksgiving. I’m not going to the warm, sunny part of Arizona. I’m going to the windy, cold, desolate part of Arizona called Snowflake. Why? Well, my parents and a brother live there, but one of the major reasons for my decision was to see my grandmother. She is 84 years old and still in pretty good health, but I realize that she could be gone at any moment, so I want to visit her again while I can. The original plan was to meet up with her at an extended family turkey fest, but that plan has been torpedoed by the ultimate of awkward situations.

My husband and I have a few guilty pleasures, and one of them is watching a new television show on the CW network called Ringer. In the show, one twin sister, Bridgette, is a key witness to a murder, and Bridgette is too scared to stay and testify, so she runs to her estranged twin, Siobhan, for advice and protection. As soon as the sisters are together, they go out on a boat and Siobhan supposedly goes overboard, leaving the Bridgette the perfect opportunity: take Siobhan’s place and identity, including her husband. Convoluted? Yes. But that is only the edge of the iceberg. As Bridgette continues impersonating her twin, she discovers that Siobhan has been having an affair with Siobhan’s best friend’s husband, who also is supposedly a great friend of Siobhan’s husband. And not only that, but Siobhan (and now Bridgette) still meets and talks to this best friend, Gemma, everyday. What do they talk about? Who the mystery woman is that Gemma’s husband is cheating with.

AWKWARD!!!

What does this have to do with the turkey fest? I have many cousins in my Grandmother’s family, but I have two in particular we’ll call Tom and Bob. Well, I’ve just found out that Tom has admitted that he has been having an affair with Bob’s wife. And he’s tired of keeping it a secret, so he just wants to come out in the open and marry Bob’s wife as soon as she and Bob can get divorced. ARGGHHH. This is going to ruin every family get together for the rest of time—or at least until Tom and Bob’s wife get tired of each other and move on to someone else.

AWKWARD!!!

As I watched Ringer, I would think about how incredibly insensitive and crass the whole situation was.  I used to find it unbelievable that someone could betray a friend AND a spouse so callously. Now that I’ve seen the situation in my own family, I guess I’ll change my thinking on that. I guess people really can be that self centered and cruel.

AWKWARD!!!

Reflections on My Sixth Year

In exactly one week, I will finish my sixth year of teaching. In some ways this has been a great year; in some, the worst ever. I've had to deal with seizures (my own!) seventy-two hour EEGs, and shoulder surgery. I've been more scatterbrained than I ever remember being in my life. I've dealt with reluctant learners, one of whom was my own child. I've occasionally felt like I was doing a great job teaching and often felt like I was the worst teacher in the world.

I think it's probably time for a major overhaul of my curriculum to get me out of my doldrums. We recently read Write Like This by Kelly Gallagher for the CUWP book group, and it really got me thinking about what I'm having my students write and why. I loved what Kelly said in the book about a fantasy meeting with a former student years from now:

"Excitedly, she blurts out: 'Oh, it is so good to see you! I was hoping to run into you some day so that I can tell you that I am still writing essays that analyze the author's use of tone. I  keep a Tone Journal at home, and I apply that skill you taught me twenty years ago in the tenth grade to everything I read today! Let's have lunch some day so I can share all the essays I have written recognizing the author's tone found in all the books I have read since high school graduation."

Instead, he says he'd rather hear about the blog they're writing, or the letter they've sent to every member of congress about some issue.

Anyway, I am going to redo my curriculum so that we're doing a lot more real world writing. For example, this year I had my students write sonnets. Dumb idea. It was painful for them to do and painful for me to read.

One of my goals for this summer (and hopefully to continue through the school year next year) is to read and USE one professional book a month. Actually, maybe I'll try for two a month over the summer. I have quite a few that look like they'd be very helpful if I actually read them. Ha.

Anyway, I have one more week with this particular crop of kids, and I hope they've taken away at least one useful thing from my class this year. They did do spectacularly well on their end of level tests, and that seems to be all that our school really worries about as far as whether I'm a good teacher or not. For myself, I'd like to think the bar is a bit higher.