Whatever Flips Your Waffle (192)
As you read this, there’s a chance you attended Meet the Panthers this past Tuesday in New Richland. I always look forward to this night for a couple of reasons. One is that my voice feels like it’s getting rusty, having been away from the microphone for some time. The other is getting a chance to see all our student-athletes getting ready for another season.
It’s no secret to my readers that I rank sports high on my list of enjoyable things. With that thought in mind, high school athletics are at the top of my sports list. Why is that? I’m glad you asked!
I see Audrienne Kormann at so many NRHEG events and have for many years. The very first time I met her, at a grandson’s baseball game, she told me, “I just love sports!” and then told me about her lifelong infatuation with all things sport. This past summer, I sat by her at some softball games that Jayna and her granddaughter played in together. I heard the same refrain, which gave me pause to think about why exactly people like Audrienne and me and so many others love these games.
Here’s what it boils down to: high school athletes truly play for the enjoyment of the game and the thrill of competition. There’s not an ulterior reward in the form of a college scholarship for the vast majority of them, and even fewer will ever play professionally. This makes high school sports the most pure form of sports you can watch.
How many of us look back on those “glory days” with fond memories? Those were great times, and I enjoy watching our young people make those memories of their own to remember someday.
Plus, sports are the most enjoyable “reality show” you can find. Even though you might think you know who will win, you just never know. Plus, you might see that one play that everyone will be talking about for weeks! That’s better than most of the fare that’s on TV these days.
Now, I will give full disclosure before this next part: I get into our local games for free. (Of course, I’m also “working!”) Still, when I bring my family and have to pay for them, I find it to be a reasonable amount to watch a game for a couple of hours. It certainly costs less than taking them all to a movie, and the popcorn is better!
I’ve seen declining attendance at so many events lately, with the exception of girls’ basketball. There haven’t been as many people at football or boys’ basketball games the last few years. I hope it’s not because the records haven’t been as good.
These kids work hard. There’s a lot to be said for a crowd infusing energy into a team (just go to one of the aforementioned girls’ games).
I’ll step into the Swami’s shoes for a moment. The football team should be better this year. I’ve officiated at the lower levels and have seen some more talent coming. The coaches always have them as prepared as they can, and the record doesn’t always show where a key play here or there might have changed things.
The boys’ basketball team should also make leaps and bounds. I can honestly say that I’ve not seen a team improve from beginning to end as much as that team did last year. They’re still young and should make a run at being a threat come playoff time this year.
Come on out and watch the kids play. The volleyball team plays a home game on August 27, and the football team plays two Fridays in a row at home, August 30 and September 6. Make it a goal to come and watch our young athletes compete and put on a show at least once per season. You never know, you might see something you’ll remember for a long time, and you may find that getting a season pass would be worth the money when you discover this same love of high school athletics!
Word of the Week: Special shout out to the winner of last week’s contest to identify the common link among my last five words of the week: erudite, candor, abnegation, amity, and dauntless. Cory James knew these are the five factions in a trilogy written by Veronica Roth, which leads to this week’s word, the title of the first book, soon to be a movie. This week’s word is divergent, which means differing or deviating, as in, “The running back became divergent when he saw a hole open up off the path he was supposed to run.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
Don’t you dislike it when people go on vacation and come back and tell you EVERYTHING that they did? Yeah, so do I.
Too bad.
As I type this, my family has arrived back in Minnesota from a week in Orlando, Florida. My sister Angie and her family went, as well as my mom and dad.
I could tell you about all the great things (the kids completing Jedi training, meeting Marvel super heroes at Universal, breakfast with the Disney characters) and the not-so-great things (Jayna breaking her arm two days before we left, my mom forgetting her ID at home and having to drive back to New Ulm to get it and take a later flight, Michelle being at the top of a ride when the skies opened up), but I won’t. Oh wait…
Instead I want to tell you about the people in Florida. I love people watching. Rides and theme parks, not so much, but the people!
But this is not just about strange and unique people I saw. No, instead it’s about the niceness of almost everyone! Some time ago, I wrote about how customer service seems to be on the decline. Not in Florida, especially not at the theme parks!
We talk about Minnesota Nice all the time. I swear, I saw more of it during a week in Florida than I have in a year here. I can’t recall one person at the Disney parks who was not kind and courteous and seemed to be enjoying his or her job, whether it was taking tickets or sweeping up trash.
As we waited in line to get in the Magic Kingdom, I struck up a conversation with Roger, an employee with Disney, who happened to be taking his family to the park on his day off. How many of us can say we do that with our jobs?
I asked Roger about this nice factor that I saw everywhere. I speculated that it would be tough, day in and day out, to be that way. We all have bad days or have disagreeable things happen at work, but I never saw it at Disney.
He told me it’s all about how you’re treated. The Disney folks treat their employees with respect and like human beings. They preach the Disney Way of doing things, and if you can’t, there are other people who want your job. Roger also said that most people he knew there really did enjoy their jobs, even though most don’t make a tremendous amount of money.
I thought about that a little bit on the flight home. I love my job, but it’s no secret that morale has been down in our district the last number of years under our former superintendent. We were not treated like Disney employees. Respect was missing quite often.
There is great hope with our new superintendent that things will turn around. I’ve only met Dr. Goodwin once, but I was immediately struck by his genuine interest in me as a person, not just an employee. He seems like the type to listen and not just dismiss an idea because it was not his own. Others who have met him have said the same thing.
It’s good to be home; I get antsy after about two days away, but Jayna and Anton had an unforgettable time, and that’s what it’s all about – the kids. They were treated well everywhere we went, especially Jayna with her cast. Hopefully, they’ve taken in some of that Florida Nice and will turn it into the Minnesota Nice we all know and love!
Word of the Week: This week’s word is erudite, which means having or showing knowledge, as in, “The tourist impressed the Marvel super heroes at Universal with his erudite facts about their powers.” A special bonus offer this week to any sharp-eyed readers who have caught the connection among my last five words of the week! Be the first to e-mail me at my school address or message me on Facebook (or I suppose you could call me too), and you’ll get a special shout-out next week! Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
During the Litomysl church festival, I did something I haven’t done in about 15 years: play the trumpet in public, at the polka mass. Let me back up in time first.
I played trumpet all through school in New Ulm. I was above average, which qualified me for first chair at tiny CHS. In middle school, a group of parents decided that some of us who were both friends and musicians should form a polka band. Thus, the Southsiders was formed!
We had fun with a couple of trumpets, a concertina, a sax, and some drums. We played at local festivals, nursing homes, in parades, and even outside the Metrodome before a couple of Twins games.
When I headed to Winona for college, I helped re-found the pep band that had been defunct. It was a very relaxed atmosphere, but we rocked the house for basketball games in my last three years there, and it continues to this day.
As I arrived at NRHEG, I was loath to give up this instrument that I enjoyed so much. I would sometimes step in and play with the pep band before games. However, as I started announcing more, that fell by the wayside, as did any playing at all.
Fast forward to this past year: Jayna has taken up the trumpet, to my eternal delight. Her godfather, Galen, plays with a group called Litomyslaneous for the polka mass and asked if Jayna might join them for a few pieces. I got the music, and Jayna practiced the songs. However, as we got closer, I listened and realized she wasn’t advanced enough to play at the pace needed for polka.
I talked to Galen, and he said that perhaps I should join them. I panicked a bit; I hadn’t played regularly since those early years at NRHEG, but decided to give it a shot.
If you’ve never played an instrument in front of a large group, you have no idea of the fear that goes into hitting that first note. If you can just get it right, the rest will be fine. Rest assured, especially with a trumpet, if you are off, EVERYONE will know, even the least musically-conscious.
I made it through the songs I had, but my lip was shot. Brass players know of what I speak. Go ahead, if you used to play an instrument; take it out again and try it. This is not quite like riding a bicycle. I could still remember all the fingerings as if it had been 15 years ago, but playing an instrument takes practice and getting in shape, just like a sport.
I need to play trumpet more often. It was such a kick to play with that group and play polka music again that I wouldn’t mind doing it more in the future, but I will be better prepared.
One of the things Michelle and I agreed we would force our kids to do was learn music and take piano lessons. Music brings so much happiness in life that we felt it was one of those things our kids should have in their lives. We were lucky to find a great piano teacher in Courtney Klocek, who has done a fabulous job of guiding the kids toward that same love of music.
Once more, if you used to play an instrument, try it again. You don’t need to go in front of a group, but you might rediscover that joy or even find that something you might not have liked years ago isn’t such a bad thing.
There are so many people I talk to who say they wish they had learned to play an instrument. It’s never too late! Learn piano, pick up a guitar, do something to enhance that musical element in your life. Encourage your children to play something.
Think about all the great music on the radio or on your iPod. Those people might have bucked against learning an instrument at one time, but what would you do without Aerosmith or Carrie Underwood? Being able to play music is a lifetime gift that you can give to yourself and many others.
Word of the Week: This week’s word is dauntless, which means fearless, as in, “The dauntless musician dusted off his trumpet after many years and played before hundreds of people.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
Remember when you got your first answering machine? What a thrill! Now you wouldn’t have to worry about missing calls anymore! The toughest part of the answering machine was who would get to talk and what cool message you would put on it.
Oh, how far we’ve come…or maybe not. Think about all the technological advancements we’ve made since those ancient answering machines: cell phones, voice mail, e-mail, text messaging, Skyping, Facetime – the list goes on and on.
There is certainly a convenience to all these gadgets and apps. Now, you no longer have to worry about missing a call at home, but people have access to you no matter where you are!
Wait. Is that a good thing? It can be; there are times I’m running around with the kids or on my way somewhere, but I’m waiting for an important call. When we took a family trip to South Dakota a couple years ago, our water softener had sprung a cat-induced leak the day before, and I had contacted someone to fix it, but needed to give them my credit card once it was done. My cell phone was convenient then since we were cruising down I-90.
But that’s not always the case, is it? Sure, we can ignore the call if we want, but then everyone is staring at you, wondering when that tacky ring tone will be done.
I’ve also found that calling some people isn’t even worth my time; they never answer their phones. However, if I text them, I get an immediate response. I realize that not everyone wants to talk to me (hard to imagine), but it seems some people are removing themselves from interpersonal contact.
Last year, I was trying to get ahold of a baseball coach about a tournament I was running. I left him three messages on his cell phone before he finally called me back. He told me he rarely returned calls; you just had to keep calling and harassing him. What? I thought the purpose of a cell phone was to make it easier to reach people!
The same thing goes for email. If you have e-mail, you should check it at least every other day. I recently sent an e-mail to the managing editor at the Owatonna People’s Press to ask why they weren’t including two days’ worth of comic strips any more. No response, not even a form e-mail. This isn’t the Star Tribune; I expect something!
Look at our teenagers. Do they ever just call each other and talk anymore? Anyone remember Mom or Dad yelling at you to get off the phone since they were expecting a call? Now we have call waiting, so that’s not a problem. But I don’t think kids talk much anymore. They text and message on Facebook and Twitter. I’ve actually witnessed kids sitting ten feet apart texting EACH OTHER!
Face to face communication is still so important in our society. Having sat in on interviews for new staff the past two years, I can tell you I base part of my judgment on the facial responses to questions and the non-verbal communication going on. Are younger people learning these vital skills?
I’ve seen more and more kids struggle with public speaking in my classroom, and I wonder if this lack of personal interaction has anything to do with it. Public speaking is always difficult, but the uptick in anxiety leads me to hypothesize that kids need to spend more time looking at faces than they do screens. Some adults might need to as well.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a phone call to make.
Word of the Week: This week’s word is candor, which means truthfulness, as in, “He picked up the phone, intending to use candor to tell her why the relationship was over.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
Two weeks ago, I got on a roll about bad examples of parent behavior at baseball games. Here is the rest of my rant!
The worst example of bad parenting in a ballgame came, again, in Owatonna this year. There were two fields going, and I was in the middle of a great 1-1 game when a giant bolt of lightning struck about half a mile away. I immediately called the players off the field. The rules state that you don’t restart a game until 30 minutes after the last bolt of lightning is seen, so we reset the clock after every strike.
The other field was cleared as well. As I huddled with the other umpire, coaches, and tournament director, we could see that a storm was going to hit and basically wash out the rest of the afternoon. The coaches of my game wisely decided that, even though it was a tie, they were done and headed out.
The coaches from the other game wanted to try to get five innings in to make it an official game. I told the ump from that field that he shouldn’t go back out until the time had been reached. However, the coaches convinced him to restart the game five minutes after I had last seen lightning. Another bolt struck about five minutes into it, even closer.
I actually heard one mother say, “Aww, keep ‘em out there. We’ve got to make this official.”
I looked at her incredulously and responded, “Are you serious? What if it’s your son that gets hit by lightning?”
She insisted that they had to get the game done. I couldn’t do anything but shake my head. These were 15-year-olds. Safety should always be the priority, and liability also has to be considered.
The good news is the ump finally made the right call and got them off the field, and nobody was hurt. But there were still parents muttering that they should try to keep going.
As an umpire, safety always comes first. The right call comes next. Appeasing the fans is nowhere on the list.
I’ve told any number of people over the years that they don’t have to like me. They don’t have to agree with my calls. But they do have to respect me because I’m doing something that few people want to do, and since I am, my calls will stand.
Overall, the fans from our area are pretty good. Maybe that’s just because they know me. Maybe it’s that they’ve learned respect or know complaining won’t get them anywhere. Maybe they’re afraid I’ll hold it against their kid in school if they complain. (I won’t!)
Notice though that I said overall, not completely. We have people around here who need to work on understanding the need to shut their mouths. More than once I’ve offered my mask (or in football or basketball, my whistle) to a local fan since they seemed to feel they could do a better job. Nobody’s ever taken me up on it.
Here’s the thing: if you’ve NEVER officiated a sport, you CAN’T complain. You just can’t. The view from a field or court is so different than in the stands.
Again, we all make mistakes. We feel terrible about them. I blew a call in a recent game because I didn’t have a good angle. Did it change the outcome? There’s the rub. Most of the time, we’ll never know, except on a game-ending play. Early in a game, if a different call is made, the whole game could change. Or it could stay basically the same.
What people really need to understand is that we need more people to be umpires and officials. We need high school kids to try it out and learn about it. For one thing, they’ll understand the game better when they play. Many have told me, though, that when they have done it, they’ve had a bad experience with parents and/or a coach and don’t want to do it anymore. That’s too bad.
I tell beginning officials to call it loud and call it proud. If you do that, you get questioned less. And it’s just like any other job: the longer you do it, the better you get. You’ll never be perfect, but if you work hard and do the best you can, it’s a great experience. On the ball field, I feel like I have the best seat in the house.
The moral of the story? Enjoy the games. Let the officials do their job. If there’s a mistake, leave it to the coach to talk to the officials. Let your kids be kids and have fun out there. If you have to live vicariously through your kids, I feel sorry for you. It’s certainly fun when they win, but it’s even better when they improve and enjoy the games. Help them do that, please. And before you scream at another official, think about officiating yourself!
Word of the Week: This week’s word is amity, which means friendly relations, as in, “The umpire tried to foster amity with all coaches and spectators.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
I know many people were looking forward to part two of my rant about parent behavior at ballgames, but sometimes things occur that need pondering, so you’ll have to wait a week.
My long-time readers know that I find solace in difficult times through writing (See: my dad’s heart attack, Sandy Hook, etc.), which is why I’ve taken keyboard in hand to talk about a tragic passing.
I was barely a member of NRHEG a month when I experienced the first death of a student, Amada Motl. I hardly knew what to do, so I just had my high school students write about their memories of her. A couple years later, one of my first seniors, Anne Broitzman, was killed in a car accident. At the wake, Gary Nordlie, former English teacher, told me to expect plenty of these during my career.
I couldn’t believe it. Sure, there might be an occasional accident, but there couldn’t be that many. Sadly, that thought was wrong, as it seems like an average of one student/former student a year has passed from us. It gets more difficult each time, since the longer you’re in a community, the more people you know and the more you really care about all these people, even if you don’t know them well.
Our communities have certainly come together in good times (building new schools, state basketball tournaments) and bad (tornadoes, floods, deaths), and that’s something I love about NRHEG. As I think back to the wakes and funerals of kids like Steph Hanna, Bryan Kormann, Matt Wilson, Amanda Ryan, Jake Bushlack, Russell Witke, and Dylan Johnson, as well as others that don’t pop into my head right now, I remember most the great outpouring of emotions.
Seeing students in a vulnerable state is extremely difficult. So is having them see you that way. Still, we are all human, and these emotions help connect us. I’m known as a man of many words, but I tend to be at a loss of what to say at a wake. Everything seems so clichéd, but I know from experience that every kind word helps, and when you’re on the other side of the receiving line, nothing seems clichéd.
And now Markus Misgen. I won’t pretend that I knew Markus well; he was just getting ready to experience the world of 7th grade English this year. However, I’ve known the family for some time, and I had his older brother Payton in class last year.
Markus had his locker right near my classroom door last year, so I saw him multiple times every day. He never said much, and getting a smile out of him or even a hello was my goal most days. Seeing him play the lead in Aladdin last spring was amazing – who was this kid? I barely ever heard a peep, yet there he was, a natural in the spotlight on stage.
I sat last night as sleep evaded me and tried to imagine life without one of my kids. It certainly didn’t help me fall asleep. As parents, we only get one shot with each of our children, and we have to make the most of it.
I just heard a commercial on the radio yesterday about how kids whose parents spend time with them achieve more and stay out of trouble more than those who rarely see and interact with their parents. It comes back to me now as I think that we probably can’t spend enough time with our kids. Work and other activities call us away often, so we should enjoy as much as we can with them.
We don’t know how long we have with each other. I vow to enjoy every tedious piano lesson I sit through and every easy game of checkers I’ll win against my kids. I pray that everyone pulls together again and helps the Misgens, not just now, but in the more difficult times ahead when most people move on with their lives. Check back in with people who have lost someone a couple months from now, a year from now.
And most importantly: hug your family members. Tell them you love them. You might not get another chance.
In the spirit of enjoying every moment, a very happy birthday to my wonderful wife, Michelle. You are my lobster, and my life is infinitely better with you in it.
Word of the Week: This week’s word is abnegation, which is to be selfless, as in, “The community showed great abnegation in helping the bereaved family.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
There are two types of people I really dislike. One is the people who sit directly behind me when I umpire, thinking they’ll have a great view of the strike zone so they can question every ball and strike they don’t agree with. (Guess what? It’s hard to see through both me and the catcher!)
The other is the people who sit down the baselines and think they can see the strike zone even better at that angle. In addition, they also can see fair/foul extremely well. Amazing!
I’ve umpired baseball games for 17 years now, and I’m starting to feel more and more like I’d really enjoy a game where none of the parents were allowed to attend. It seems like I have to listen to and deal with more parents acting ludicrous all the time.
Understand this: if you want to officiate at any level, you need to have a thick skin. I’m not out to make friends; someone will always disagree with a close call, especially in a close game. Most of the complaints roll right off me; I try to be professional in dealing with controversy. If you respond to complaints from the crowd, they know they’ve got your ear and will continue. If you can ignore them, just like a bully, they might give up.
I’ve also found that the younger the level, the worse the parents can be. I’ve had to deal with more stupidity at a 13-year-old level than I ever have in a varsity game. And it’s not just the complaints, but also the parents who seem to think they know the game inside and out, yet aren’t in the dugout as a coach.
I was in Owatonna this year working a 13-year-old tournament. One of those first type of people I dislike was sitting right behind me, informing every player that it was a tight strike zone today. She disapproved of many of my calls and was consistently telling her son what he should do. During a time out, he happened to be coming up to bat, with his mom wagging her tongue again.
I mentioned to him that the only person he should listen to was his coach. He sighed. “I know,” he said. Then he turned to his mother. “Would you be quiet and let me do my job?” We didn’t hear the woman the rest of the game.
At least I wasn’t part of another game in Owatonna where the police had to be called after some parents were berating and threatening an umpire. Seriously?
I was trying to remember the last time I ejected somebody from a game. It’s been some time. I try to give people a chance unless it’s something egregious (swearing is an easy exit). There was a parent at a Legion game this summer who disagreed with my partner’s call on the bases. Even after the coach had argued and gone back to the dugout, this buffoon continued to yell, as if somehow that would change the call.
I finally had to turn around and tell him he was done. He needed to sit down and be quiet, or he would be gone. It took two warnings, but he finally shut his trap. I don’t want to eject anyone (okay, it is kind of cool when you do it right), but this was not a great example to set for our youth.
Have I ever changed a call? Certainly. I’ve had coaches come out and remind me that my interpretation of a rule is not correct. In that case, I’m more than happy to admit I’m wrong if it means the right call is made. Coaches have the right to question a close call or an interpretation. Fans do not, though I have no problem going up between innings to explain the rule.
Speaking of great examples, I got to see some prime parenting in Albert Lea this year for Jayna’s 12U softball. The parents from the other team (which was a more talented team, don’t get me wrong) were taunting our girls as their team thrashed us. They laughed if our girls made a mistake. It was disgraceful, but I talked to Jayna afterwards and reminded her to always show good sportsmanship, even if you lose.
Oh no. I’ve done it again. I have enough for another entire column! I guess you’ll have to wait until next week to learn the worst example of parent behavior I’ve seen this year!
Word of the Week: This week’s word is glabella, which is the flat area above your nose and between your eyebrows, as in, “The umpire tried to look at the glabella instead of the fiery eyes of the upset coach.” Thanks to my neighbor Karen Ibberson for this week’s word! Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
I’ve always been glad I was the oldest child in my family. There are any number of reasons for this, but the strongest one is that my parents followed me with three girls. I shudder at the thought of being the youngest in some alternate universe.
Being the oldest always gave me a few advantages. Realistically, parents are making it up as they go along with the first child. You can read all the books you want, but with the many contradictions you find among the so-called experts, who’s to know what to believe? As the oldest child, I can look back and feel like I had a few “Get out of jail free” cards that I was able to play since Mom and Dad hadn’t anticipated a situation.
My sisters followed me and might not have had the same luck. Our parents had most likely figured out a few of my tricks by that time, so those didn’t work for my siblings. They had to come up with some new strategies to get away with things.
Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I was some rapscallion who was nothing but trouble. But I did manage to finagle my way out of some tricky situations and even to herd the blame in the direction of one of my sisters if I was especially on my game. (Sorry, Kim, about you getting blamed for taking all those cookies.)
I recently read an article in Parade about the impact of siblings on each other. We all have heard about how birth order is thought to affect how we turn out with labels given to the oldest, the middle child, and the baby of the family. However, this article went deeper. Apparently, the oldest child in a family is, according to this study, the most intelligent.
Well. I’ve admitted to my ego relating to my intellect. And now I have proof!
Regardless of who has the biggest brain, I know I always used to lord my intelligence over my sisters. I may have set a treacherous standard as I went through school by getting good grades in everything except handwriting. (Psh! Who cares about that anyway?)
As a teacher, I know better than to judge a student based on an older sibling, luckily for some! Still, there’s always something in the back of your head that tells you, “Wow, he/she is not nearly as bright as the older one!” or the opposite.
I sometimes feel bad that my sisters may have faced a “Mark prejudice.” I know my sister Kim, who is only two years younger than me, worked her tail off through school. Even if her GPA wasn’t the same as mine at the end of high school, she had a clear advantage in college. She had learned that strong work ethic with homework, whereas I had many things come easy to me. That came to a screeching halt in college, and Kim had an easier time than I did because of it.
That article also talked about what an impact the oldest child has on younger siblings, whether conscious or not. Younger children look up to the oldest and see what he/she is doing and often pattern things after that.
Okay, let’s go with that. I’m a teacher. I’ve wanted to be a teacher since I was a freshman in high school. Kim’s husband was a teacher when they got married. My sister Angie is a teacher. Oh oh, maybe it’s true!
Oh, wait. Then there’s Mandy. She’s the baby of the family, and if you go with traditional birth order theories, she fits them to a tee. The baby of the family is often spoiled, and even Mandy will admit to getting more of what she wanted than we did.
The youngest child is supposedly also more of a rebel and a wild child. Check. Check. Mandy may not have any connection to education, but then I wasn’t around for long after she was born before I headed out of town. Mandy has always forged her own path, currently shown by her occupation as a mortician and her “hobby” of playing women’s tackle football with the Minnesota Vixen.
It’s tough for all of our schedules to mesh these days, so the rare occasions when Mom and Dad have all four kids in one place are worth celebrating: we’ve all turned out pretty well!
In the end, no matter how much influence I may or may not have had on my sisters, I’m still glad I was the oldest. I would rather have staged wrestling matches with their dolls than had them make me play along with them!
Word of the Week: This week’s word is longueur, which means a long, tedious passage or selection, as in, “The columnist hoped his readers didn’t feel as if they were reading a longueur when he dabbled in articles about his family.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
My wife is leaving me.
No, not Michelle. My other wife, my professional wife.
What is a professional wife? Well, I’ve been working closely with special education teacher Heather Carlson for the past six years at NRHEG, and we decided at one point that we spent enough time together planning and teaching that we were basically married while at work.
At one point, Heather was in my classroom with her special needs students three class periods each day. We decided to try the grand experiment of including those students who have a learning disability related to English as much as possible. Where in the past, they had been pulled from the regular education classroom, Heather and I worked together to give them inclusion and help them grow in this learning environment.
The first couple of years were just as much of Heather learning as the kids. She was no slouch when it came to English, but there’s a difference between knowing English and teaching the subject. By the last couple of years, Heather could have taught my class by herself many days. (I’m somewhat of a control freak though, so that didn’t happen often.)
Heather is leaving NRHEG. She was offered a job in Waconia and took it, despite a lot of hand wringing before making that decision. Here’s the truth: I knew this day was coming from the time Heather started teaching with me.
To use an old story, Heather is a city mouse, not a country mouse. She grew up in the Cities and frequently went back home. I’m not sure she ever adjusted to life in our small communities; in fact, she lived in Owatonna and never seriously considered moving closer. There’s nothing wrong with this, but I could often sense a longing she had for a place with more “action” than we can provide.
I always thought if Heather could meet a nice young man from here, she might stay. But I think I was fooling myself; this was inevitable.
As she was working through her Master’s program, she started using the professional wife term, since it was referenced in her studies. And it fit, though I knew it was a relationship doomed to eventually end in divorce. Just like in any relationship, Heather overlooked some of my supposed flaws (a passion for Star Wars and Seinfeld, among others) since what worked was a good thing.
Heather was able to know where I wanted to go with students and help get them there. It wasn’t just her special education students either; many of the other students also felt comfortable working with her. When Waconia called me to ask about her strengths, that was one of the things I told them. I also told them how she was able to adjust and modify just about any crazy task I came up with to the abilities of her students.
Despite the ending of our professional relationship (and this is not like the “break” Ross and Rachel were on in Heather’s favorite show, Friends), I know I have made a lifelong friend in Heather. She will succeed in Waconia and anywhere else she decides to roam. Because I can’t help myself, I have to provide an analogy to one of the things she hated most: Star Wars. She was like my young Padawan learner, now ready to take her trials and become a full-fledged Jedi Knight. May the Force be with you, Heather!
To make matters worse, a second special education teacher I was working with, Stacie Ebnet-Dietz, is also departing NRHEG after just one year. Here I thought I had the makings of another professional wife since I knew Heather wasn’t long for us. Stacie understood my musical references from the ‘80s since we are close in age, but I wish her the best as well.
And because these things happen in threes (and since I already wrote about Mr. Cyr’s departure), my church is losing our priest, Fr. Swami. He is headed to Adams after five years of serving our cluster of Catholic churches. The passion Father provided for the Church will be missed, and I hope he does well in his new cluster and that the people of our parishes welcome his replacement warmly.
Word of the Week: This week’s word is animadversion, which is the act of criticizing or an unfavorable comment, as in, “I found it hard to come up with any animadversion about my departing colleagues.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
My mom, Karen, recently celebrated the annual anniversary of her 29th birthday. Even as she approaches an age where many people contemplate retirement, Mom is going as strong as ever.
I often tell my students that they will become like their parents in many ways. I’ve written previously how like my dad I am. I also find many attributes of my mother in the things I do. I’ve thought about that a lot lately as I’ve shifted roles from teacher to chauffeur for the summer.
My kids have pretty busy schedules between sports camps, baseball and softball games, swimming lessons, and numerous appointments I have scheduled for them. As I’ve been driving across the countryside, I’ve been remembering all the trips into New Ulm and the surrounding communities Mom used to have to make for her four children. When I got my driver’s license, I suddenly became someone who could make those trips instead. It really opened my eyes to what Mom had to deal with in planning a schedule.
I’ve become like that now. I have things planned out as best I can. It’s tough sometimes, and I only have half the kids Mom did!
My mom is still doing this though. She’s as busy as ever, but after all of us left home, she could finally open up to some activities she was interested in instead of just chasing us around. I think her favorite activity is being a member of the Narren, proclaimed as the “group of relatives everyone has, but nobody wants to claim.”
What are the Narren? They’re a frightening group of costumed and masked characters based on New Ulm’s strong German heritage. (Google them. I’m not joking.) They entertain at many events in New Ulm and also around the Midwest.
Mom loves doing this. I think the only thing that ranks higher on her social calendar is time spent with her family, especially grandkids. I never saw this natural outgoing personality growing up and certainly not the “go out in public and do crazy things” part! Still, I’m sure that is a big part of my genetics, and mixed with Dad’s similar gregariousness, has led to a large part of me.
Dad just shakes his head when Mom does her Narren act. But I think she’s wanted to do things like this for a long time. She was just too dedicated to making sure her family got everything we wanted all those years. Now she’s making the most of her free time.
Mom hasn’t talked much about retiring either. She spent many years at home with us, only returning to work when I became a teenager. There had to be a lot of lonely days at home with only young kids to interact with, and I know from experience in the summer that sometimes I just need to go out somewhere to see and talk to adults. Mom will continue to work since she’s making up for lost time in the adult world!
I learned a lot of other things from Mom. She taught me the importance of saving money, which has paid off in many ways over the years. I still clip coupons, just like she did, and we put money away in a rainy day fund every month.
She taught me how to cook, and to this day, I do most of the cooking. (Not because Michelle isn’t capable, but I’m the first one home and enjoy the task.) Mom kept after all of us kids to learn a strong work ethic and present a persona in public that we could be proud of.
There are two things I look back on with which I still disagree with my mom. One is that I buy cereal that I’ll enjoy and not just Cheerios, Wheaties, Corn Flakes, and Rice Krispies. The other is that I don’t always have to make my bed or keep my room clean when company comes over; that’s why we have a door.
Keep doing what you enjoy, Mom! All your kids are proud of you and love you, and we look forward to celebrating many more of those anniversaries!
Word of the Week: This week’s word is gregarious, which means social and companionable, as in, “The gregarious salesman was able to sell his product well since people genuinely liked him.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
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In the fantastic novel The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams, the characters search for the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. The answer they find is somewhat unexpected: 42.
This was the response from my high school English teacher and inspiration, Mr. Larry Tise, when a student would say, “I have a question.” I never understood that until I read Adams’ novel. After that, everything clicked, and my vision of everything in the universe became clear.
Not really.
This has become my pat answer when students come up to me and say, “I have a question.” I emulate Mr. Tise because of the great impact he had on me as a student. His style of teaching is reflected in so many things I do, which is an homage to him. Mr. Tise died of lung cancer a few years ago, but I still have one special lesson I teach every year in creative writing that is blatantly copied from one he used with us as 10th graders.
42 is also what I tend to write in grad party books and yearbooks. When kids ask me math questions, I tell them to figure out a way to make 42 work as the answer. (I’m discovering more and more that today’s junior high math is often above my capabilities. Further proof that the powers that be are pushing math to such a degree that, in trying to get more kids interested, they are pushing them farther away. But I digress…)
So why write about 42? Well, this just happens to be my 42nd column. While there’s nothing remotely special about that, at the very least, it shows my anal side in that I keep track of how many columns I’ve written.
What is truly the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything? Do you really want to know?
I don’t.
While I am a naturally curious person, if I knew everything, life would become boring. It’s awfully fun to foment discussion on wide-ranging topics and to explore deep topics with well-spoken people. If I knew all the answers, those discussions wouldn’t rate so high on my list of interesting parts of life.
Confession: I have a decent-sized ego. I think of myself and portray myself as someone with a high IQ (148, actually). Still, nothing stimulates my mind so much as having someone challenge a thought I have with some rationale that is thought out so well that I begin having second thoughts.
As I’ve wrapped up another year of teaching junior high students, that type of discussion is sometimes hard to find outside the teachers’ lounge. However, I’ve run across a handful of students the last few years who enjoy challenging the way I think.
Why do I enjoy teaching junior high, a job many say certifies you as insane? It’s students like that, the ones who help propel education both for themselves and for others. For it’s not just me they challenge, but those around them, and everyone benefits.
So for me, the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything will remain 42. That seems like a good enough answer and leaves plenty of wiggle room to explore.
Truth be told, I had no idea where this column would go when I started writing it. As I look back over it, that shows the true power of 42. If that’s confusing, the magic is working because you’re thinking! (And if you have a somewhat warped sense of humor, read the book!)
Word of the Week: This week’s word is foment, which means to stir up, as in, “The student tried to foment a revolution against homework, which fizzled when the teacher threatened to up the amount if the student did not get off the desk.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
The first time I met Paul T. Cyr was not at my job interview. The job opening was initially just for high school, so it was only Mr. Lorenz and Mr. Obermiller, superintendent and principal at the time, respectively. However, when I was hired, I was given teaching assignments in both the high school and the middle school.
I came over to Ellendale one day after I had received my contract in order to pick up some textbooks and begin planning my curriculum. Mr. Cyr met me there and was a whirlwind of activity. I hardly knew what to think of this man that would go on to be my boss for the next 17 years.
Of course, Mr. Cyr has been in the NRHEG school district much longer than I have, and the footprint he is leaving behind as he retires is much larger than his stature might indicate.
Here is one of the best tributes I can give to Mr. Cyr: You always know where you stand with him. There is no chicanery or subterfuge in how he deals with people. If he’s upset with you, it will be apparent quickly. If you’ve done something that pleases him, he will recognize it. Many people have been on both ends of this spectrum, especially his wrestlers.
I’ve often heard what a great math teacher Mr. Cyr was before getting his administrative degree. I know he missed the classroom, because when he had the chance to teach a class again a number of years back, he was like a kid in a candy store. Even without that class, you could often find him in a study hall helping kids with their math work.
Mr. Cyr could be a polarizing figure, of course. There are plenty of people who do not like his bluntness, perhaps because the truth hurts, or perhaps because they were not prepared for a principal who would tell it the way he saw it. Any number of “puffed-up toads,” “savages,” and “bawl-face liars” have trod the corridors of our school in my time here.
How did Mr. Cyr help me most as a teacher? By staying out of my way. I don’t always do things in a traditional teaching style, but he has rarely stepped in and said that I couldn’t do something, even if he fit that said traditional style. Early in my career, he would give advice on a few things, and then just got out of my way. This really helped me flourish in the classroom, not having to worry about someone always looking over my shoulder.
Maybe we need more Mr. Cyrs in this world. Maybe we need more people to tell it the way they see it and to avoid the kumbaya attitude that seems to encompass our society. We don’t need to hold hands, sway, and sing together so we all feel good about ourselves; sometimes we just need a rude awakening.
When we were just the middle school in Ellendale, Mr. Cyr always knew what was happening in each class. You would see him in the halls between most classes, and he knew every kid by name and probably knew something about each one. Since we’ve merged to a 6-12 building in New Richland, that has become more difficult, and I know the monumental tasks have worn on him as he nears the home stretch of his career.
What will Mr. Cyr do in retirement? I’m not sure even he knows. He’ll probably spend more time in Oklee with his parents. I know he’ll get more hunting done. But I’d be surprised to see him completely disappear from life in our school district. He’s become such a part of the fabric here that to lose him in every way would be difficult. Best of luck with your retirement, Mr. Cyr; may it bring you all the happiness you desire!
Word of the Week: This week’s word is Mr. Cyr’s favorite word, plethora, which means a great amount, as in, “After a plethora of years in education, Paul Cyr was able to retire.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
Memorial Day was first established after the Civil War to remember our fallen soldiers. Many people fail to remember this during the three day weekend and merely use the time to party, go camping, and grill meat.
While our family always takes some time to think about the men and women who have given their lives for our country, we also think back at this time of year to Michelle’s dad, Mike Granowski, who passed away May 31, 2001.
Michelle was pregnant with Jayna at the time, and so our kids never got to meet their maternal grandfather. I only knew him for less than five years, but Mike made a great impact on my life.
There are so many stereotypical exaggerations about how terrible in-laws are, but Mike and his wife Mary were always nothing but wonderful to me, the man who dared to fall in love with their daughter. Somehow, I always found Mike intimidating, even though he never took me on a tour of his gun collection or some other threatening procedure.
Maybe all young men should find their girlfriend/wife’s father intimidating, at least out of respect. Brad Paisley sings the song, “Two People Fell in Love,” about how we have so much to be thankful for because our parents and the parents of those closest to us fell in love. This is so true, and we don’t always think about that until we lose one of those people who initially fell in love.
Mike was always so generous with everyone. He worked with cars all his life and finished as a car salesman. There too, he didn’t fit the negative stereotype we sometimes have of that occupation. I had only been dating Michelle about four months when I was looking for a used car. He pointed me in the direction of a Grand Prix he had and then opened his books to show me just how much he had paid for it. I only had to give him an extra $200 and it was mine. That car served us well for many years.
Mike would help anybody who needed it or asked for it any time. When he was struck with cancer, he found that reciprocated with all the people who helped him and the family during that trying period. We knew earlier in 2001 that his condition was terminal, and the great help given by so many made those last couple of months easier to bear. I firmly believe this is because of all the good Mike had done throughout his life.
His sense of humor was one of his great qualities. Mike always had a joke or a prank, and I can’t remember many times I saw him without a smile. Even during his last months on earth, he was smiling. That must be the hardest thing to do: you know your death is imminent, but you maintain a positive attitude.
It’s been twelve years, but it doesn’t get any easier. Michelle takes a lot of time to talk to Jayna and Anton about Grandpa Mike and to show them pictures so they can “know” him. In fact, a teddy bear that was his still lingers around our house.
s we paused this past Monday to remember fallen soldiers, I can’t help but think that Mike was visiting in Heaven with some of his compatriots from the Vietnam War, a conflict in which he served his country well.
Mary has remarried, and her husband has been a great grandpa to the kids. We’re thankful for this; it means that our kids have two grandpas on Michelle’s side.
Word of the Week: This week’s word is logolepsy, which means an obsession with words, as in, “The readers wondered if the columnist’s logolepsy would ever run dry or if he would always have some new obscure word for them every week.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!
For many years, I kept all the writing my 7th and 8th-grade students had completed, and they received this folder of memories before they departed school their senior year. It has always been a joy to watch them look through the stories and essays they had composed four or five years earlier.
“I can’t believe how terrible this is!” is a common refrain. “How did I ever get a good grade on this?” is another.
It’s great that these are typical reactions. That’s not because the students were not good writers. They might have been for junior high. The fact that they recognize it’s not good writing as part of the big picture is encouraging; it means they’ve improved!
This is an important lesson as another group of seniors prepares to graduate from NRHEG. The class of 2013 is just like so many others before them: full of hope and promise, yet scared for what awaits them in that dreaded place they’ve heard about all these years known as… the real world!
The true hope of this class and all future classes should be that in four or five or 10 or 30 years, they can look back on these years just like they do their junior high writing. “Wow, really? I sure have changed/improved!”
Many people say high school was the best four years of their lives. They sure were at the time. However, four years of college replaced those previous years pretty quickly. The first four years of a job are exciting. The first years of marriage, the first years of having children, the first years of retirement: these are all things that can rapidly change one’s outlook on “the best four years.”
High school is a wonderful time for establishing a base of your personality, your likes and dislikes, and your future goals. However, these can be ever-changing. How many of us can truly say we never changed in high school or never pretended to be something we weren’t for the purpose of fitting in? Not this columnist!
The fantastic part of a college experience, be it two years or four years, public or private, university or community college, is that there is always a group of people you will find that you fit with well. You really don’t have to pretend to be someone else anymore. If some people you’re around doesn’t like you for who you are, you’re bound to find a group who does.
The summer after my freshman year at Winona State, I returned to New Ulm for one last hurrah before fully moving out on my own. I had a few of my high school friends comment that they hardly recognized me (and it wasn’t just because I finally figured out long hair wasn’t going to bring the ladies flocking to me).
I had finally become comfortable with being the goofy, slightly strange person I am today. I wasn’t afraid to voice my opinion for fear that someone would not like my thoughts. I had found a group of friends in Winona that respected me, even if we didn’t always agree on various topics. We had some fascinating discussions along the way, and I know that being exposed to all those ideas helped me become a more well-rounded person.
Become who you are. Discover your true self. Some of you are well on your way. Others perhaps have a way to go. No matter what, I hope you have some amazing experiences so you never have to sit at a class reunion and say, “Wow, life has never been as good as it was in high school.”
Graduates, look ahead with anticipation. Be eager for what’s to come. Be most eager to continually find ways to redefine “the best four years” of your lives! Best of luck! And don’t forget if you ever need a paper proofread, you know my e-mail!
Word of the Week: This week’s word is librocubicularist, which means a person who reads in bed, as in, “The college student became a librocubicularist because she often fell asleep reading her textbooks and figured she might as well be comfortable.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!