Letters from Lisa

It may be spring in some parts of the Northern Hemisphere, but in the last three days staying at Mount Hood, I’ve seen almost a foot of snow fall. It’s continuing to float down as I sit here by the window, pondering another morning of struggling through downhill runs (and even more so, sitting exposed to the elements on the lift afterwards) with the wind whipping snow and hail in my face.

The most difficult part of the day, though, was not the inclement weather - it was the several inches of freshly fallen snow - powder - on the trail. Though I can take almost any intermediate trail under typical conditions, I only ski a few times a year and I only started skiing a few years ago. This was my first time skiing on powder, so in some ways I felt like a complete beginner all over again. Almost as soon as I got started, my ski got stuck under the inches of snow and I tumbled to the ground. I then spent the next few minutes pushing myself painstakingly back up and then sliding around in frustration as I attempted to get my skis back on.

Once I was up and ready to go, I stood looking down the expanse of the trail and wondered whether I could make it down. I didn’t want to fall again. Of course, this made it even more likely that I would fall again, because with the anxiety taking the forefront, I couldn’t ski naturally using the techniques that I knew. I was extremely cautious, nervous, jerky in my movements. I got down to the bottom, finally, and wanted to head straight in for the hot chocolate and forget about the whole rest of the day. Why push it? Why risk injury, frustration, and embarrassment?

This was how I felt, too, when I first learned to ski. I could barely get the skis on without slipping, and I was terrified of crashing into a tree or tumbling down somewhere and being unable to get up. My sense of direction not being the greatest, I also worried about wandering onto a trail that was too difficult - and of course, as a beginner, most trails ARE too difficult. (I still struggle with finding my way when I’m at a new mountain, but now that I can take a wider variety of trails, this anxiety has lessened at least.)

The first few times I went skiing, I approached the activity with a sense of dread and left afterwards feeling relieved and proud for getting through it. I’d go on the green trails and feel satisfied with that, unwilling to press my luck on anything that required greater technique. Then we visited Snowbird for a ski vacation as a family, and the instructor informed me that I was on the “hardest green trail in the United States”. Once I got through that, I realized that I could take a wider variety of trails and not worry so much about getting lost. That was nice.

Each time we went, I would think to myself, “I’m glad I got through this… now I never have to do it again.” It took quite a while, and many successful runs, before I ever thought that I might want to ski for fun. Even now, I’ll choose to go when the opportunity presents itself - it’s not something I seek out on my own. I’m happy enough when I’m doing it, and happier when I’ve gotten through another successful day. Maybe someday I’ll book a ski vacation purposefully and look out the window and think, “Today looks like a great day to ski… I can’t wait to get out there.” But I doubt it.

A lot of things come naturally to me, but it’s a very useful experience to deal with learning something that doesn’t. It really helps to understand when trying to work with someone who’s struggling, to know how it feels to be stuck in the struggle. You don’t want to try because of what might happen. Maybe it isn’t exactly like skiing, where you can actually physically hurt yourself, but there are other ways to get hurt. You know you’re not a natural, and you know there are people around watching and judging you even as they’re standing by to help you when (not if) you need it. Even worse, the anxiety itself is clouding your brain and making you forget what you already know. If you happen to have a successful run, it can feel like luck - like you’ve tempted fate and you’ll get the worst of it next time. That reinforces the relief you feel about being finished, and the desire to never ever go near it again.

The only way to get through it is to stack up a pile of successes. There isn’t a substitute. You won’t feel better about your ability until you’ve experienced it again and again.

So I’m going back out on the powder today. I’ll probably fall. I’ll probably get frustrated, and I’ll definitely feel relieved when it’s over. But it’s the only way to learn how.

I haven’t used this recently and I’d really like to. I’m not sure what I’m going to be posting here. But stay tuned, I haven’t forgotten.

The morning after the election, everyone straggled into school haggard and exhausted. Several kids said that they couldn’t get to sleep or were woken up by celebrating on the streets of the city outside their windows. Some were at election night parties or stayed up to watch Obama’s speech, which didn’t start until after midnight. One girl said her mother shook her awake crying, “We made history! We made history!”

I do feel a little shaken awake. I think we all do. Maybe it’s that the fog of the last eight years is beginning to lift. It had gotten so bad that I couldn’t even watch Stewart and Colbert anymore - it was just too ridiculous and depressing. It got hard to tell between a made-up punch line and actual news.

The day of the election, I went on full media blackout. I didn’t want to face the possibility that we might reward fear-mongering, prejudice-encouraging, character smearing, anti-intellectual, anti-scientific, anti-reality rhetoric. I hate what this campaign has done to John McCain, as he’s been forced to pander to the worst in people as Obama inspired the best in people. The John McCain of 2000 would have hated the John McCain of 2008.

But my vote for Barack Obama wasn’t just a vote against the past eight years or against Republicans. It was for Barack Obama. If he can run this country with anything approaching the focus, drive, cool-headedness, intellect, organization, and spirit with which he ran his campaign, I really think we are going to be in a different place. He knows what he doesn’t know - meaning that he isn’t going to be a unilateral “decider” thinking that God will guide him to the right decision regardless of the raw, obvious facts in front of him. He’s a member of the reality-based community. He’s calm and thoughtful, willing to work hard for long periods of time, perceptive to the needs and concerns and implications of what he’s dealing with, and (gasp) willing to compromise when necessary.

I’ve voted in three Presidential elections before this one, but never before was I inspired to identify with a campaign and a message the way that I was this time. Sometimes I caught myself thinking, “This is too good to be true, America’s not ready for a change like this.” And yes, it took a near-catastrophe in the economy to open people’s eyes that maybe it’s more important to have a President you can count on to react to the issues rather than the President you’d have a beer with. (Or the President who always sounds like he’s already downed a few with you before getting in front of the teleprompter.)

This is a victory for reason, for science, for education, for balance, for civility, for diplomacy, and for civil rights. I’m thrilled to be able to share in it, and I’m thrilled to hear the kids matter-of-factly talking about our new President-Elect as though it’s perfectly natural and normal to see an African American and his family front in center as role models for our country and for the world.

1. Work on the script for the show. There are several scenes that have been “in progress” for ages, and it’s time to actually finish them. I have lunch meetings scheduled with kids for every day this week in which we can work on the dialogue more, but in the interest of getting the script published and out to everyone by Friday, it’s time to move things along.
2. Get outside. I’m participating in World Run Day and I’ve chosen to run a 5K. That means I should probably spend some time running!
3. Make calls for Barack Obama. I’ve been more active in this campaign than I ever thought I would be in politics. But it’s time for a leader who can actually lead - who is intelligent, thoughtful, willing to work hard, good at picking advisers and experts, scientifically oriented, and able to connect with people both at home AND abroad.

Busy day…

Click here to support me in my race for the cure for breast cancer!

I last participated in this race several years ago and it is really overdue that I participate again.

New Year’s Eve! about 7:45 new Argentina time - We switched over to daylight savings.

It got a bit rocky last night as we entered the Drake Passage. We have breakfast at 8, and then I don’t know what’s planned for the day. I anticipate taking things VERY easy today. We are sailing right into a 20-knot headwind.

about 7 pm I’ve been a bit miserable today from the rockiness of the boat as well as my stomach feeling rather weak. I do not think this patch is working all that well. I did get to one presentation in the morning and then saw the DVD of the trip in the afternoon. Otherwise I’ve been in bed. I listened to a good part of the History of Rome, two astronomy lectures, and the whole of the Persuasion recording. I read maybe one chapter of The Crystal Desert as well. I have to admit I am feeling tired of all this and it is not comforting to think that we have a whole second day and night of it. Of course, it could even be still worse. I have a feeling this New Year’s Eve is going to be spent very quietly.

Everyone’s been asking me what my big adventure for the summer is going to be - and I’ve had to break it to them that I am not traveling anywhere. At least not out of the country - I’m going camping with Christine and Joseph in a few weeks. But I’ve already taken my big trip for the year, and I’m satisfied with that.

It IS a bit strange that my summer is so local - since most of my traveling is done during summers and I’ve been taking some time almost every summer to travel around. This is a departure from the regular pattern. But it’s good to be at home and at work, too.

Six months ago, I experienced the longest day of the year in the Southern Hemisphere. Six months later, here it is in the Northern. Here’s to sunlight!

One of the coolest websites I’ve seen in a long time is dipity.com. You can create an interactive timeline by inputing your own events and (the genuis part) adding feeds from blogs or websites. You can include google maps, images, and video links to go along with what you’ve added.

Just to play around, I created one for myself:
http://www.dipity.com/user/lfischler/timeline/Lisa_F/list

It started, as these things often do, with a stray glance. Maybe not even that. But the teenage girl draped aggressively across her boyfriend’s lap, feet perched on the subway seat in front of her, thought she saw it, and straightened herself up to glare back.

“What are you staring at me for? What are you looking at, —–? You jealous of me and my man?”

The “man”, all of probably 17 years old, chuckled indulgently and pulled her back onto his lap, hoping to distract her into a public display of sensuality, but soon she jumped back up again. “Yes, you WERE looking at me, you fat —–! You ——- —–, don’t be looking at me! You wanna start something? Oh, you’re not scared of me? Tell me you’re not scared of me. Go on! Tell me you’re not scared at me. No. No! I wanna hear you say you’re not scared of me.”

The object of her rage muttered a reply. It hung in the air for several tense moments. Then she flung her paper cup across the subway car, splashing soda and eliciting sharp protests from the other passengers sitting around watching the spectacle.

That is when I jumped up, grabbed my bags, and ran to the conductor’s window to report that a fight was breaking out.

The conductor announced that the train was stalled in the station due to a “disturbance”, then came out to investigate. A crowd had gathered around the two combatants, trying to pull them apart. The instigator yanked her black Yankees baseball cap down over her face and her “man” escorted her quickly away, as the crowd zeroed in on the target to assess the damage. One man, whose leg was splashed with soda, leaned out from the train door to watch where the couple had gone.

The police were called over the loudspeaker, repeatedly. No one arrived.

After several minute ticked by, several officially dressed transit officers arrived and were shown the car where the assailant had tried to hide. She was taken away, while her target sat slumped on the bench on the platform and recovered her wits before walking away with the transit officers to report an assault.

A local train pulled in across the platform, and people raced to pile onto our train, having no knowledge of what had just occurred. The doors closed and we resumed our route, everyone avoiding eye contact with everyone else.

I took stock of the situation by the numbers.

One kindly middle aged lady had tried to signal the target of the rage to back down, get off the train, do something else other than respond, respond, respond and keep it going.

One brave young man, the man with the soda stain on his suit leg, stood in the middle of the car, trying to block the view, and ended up in the middle of the brief showdown.

Four or five people, all sitting right nearby, tried to pull the women apart and kept either from being seriously injured.

One person - me - reported the situation.

About 20-30 people sat there and did and said Nothing.

I’ve only ever seen, in all my years of commuting on the subway, one other fight. That one, many years ago already, was between a drug dealer and a client who owed him money. This one was different. This girl was spoiling for a fight. Of all the people on the train, she picked a target who was close in age to herself, same ethnicity, and most likely to respond to the verbal baiting. She was revving herself up, willing the altercation to happen. She needed to get into it with someone, and if it hadn’t been this target, it would have been somebody else. It felt dangerous to even sit nearby, even though I was well out of the line of fire (and out of soda-splashing range).

There is a lot of negative, scary energy out there. It wells up inside one angry person and then gets flung out into the world, free to infect others. It hung in the atmosphere of the subway car before a single curse was uttered or a single punch was thrown. People ready to “——- kill” someone over a glance.

After 9/11, New York City felt safer than this. You got the feeling that people were banding together, that if something went down, we would all rise up and handle it. Now it seems we can’t even handle ourselves.

1. Fix up and print out the course syllabus for the next section of my class, plus gather any printed materials the students will need to have over the next several weeks so I can distribute it all tomorrow night
2. Draft a letter to my theater kids’ families about bringing in their costumes
3. Order curriculum books
4. Upload all of our skiing/vacation pictures so I can post them!
5. Type up more entries from my Antarctica travelogue (you’ve seen the video, now read about it in slow motion!)

There’s a lunar eclipse happening outside the window, but dense fog has rolled in and so we’ve got no chance of seeing it. I’m sure it’ll be tomorrow’s Astronomy Picture of the Day - which much better resolution than the naked eye anyhow. With a telescope you’re supposed to be able to see Saturn’s rings, but living just outside New York City, there’s no reason to own a telescope. You can’t see anything but the city lights. I think if Mike Bloomberg is really serious about going green, he might convince NYC businesses to turn off their flashy lights for an evening every now and again when the weather’s going to be clear, and then they can throw a massive stargazing event AND save energy at the same time. I’d participate.

Space has become my favorite science unit to teach. I almost wish I taught older kids, sometimes, so that we could get into all of the complex stuff that just isn’t appropriate to delve into with third graders. As it is, I think third grade is almost too young to begin with, but it’s the oldest group I’ve got, and we’ve managed nicely with the resources that we have. Still, this time around, we barely left our own solar system. That’s barely the beginning. I’ve tried to make it very clear to the kids that there’s so much happening with space right now, that we have tools to explore space like never before, and that there’s just so much we don’t know - so they shouldn’t consider themselves “done” with space. I never tire of reading about it (or in the case of my astronomy podcasts, listening about it). If I had my college career to do over again, one of the rare changes I would make would be actually taking that astronomy class, rather than just looking at it in the course handbook and then turning the page.

Space isn’t my only topic that I’ve only become interested in as an adult. I accumulate interests like some people accumulate gadgets or shoes. I have a chronic bookshelf shortage problem, since I keep buying new books faster than I can clear out old ones (and I hate giving away books anyway - I keep telling myself that someday I’ll want to read them again, and I’m often right). If I had to articulate a vision of what kind of learners I’d want kids to develop into as adults, that would probably be it. If you can identify something that excites your curiosity, find information about it, and feel enriched as a person from interacting with that information, that is my definition of successful learning. And, ideally, it should lead to wanting to learn more. I hate the idea of studying something but only learning as much as you absolutely have to, and then forgetting it as soon as possible. I don’t ever want to teach someone who does that. Luckily, since I teach young kids, I don’t think I ever will. That’s a cynical attitude that only develops later, and with good educational experiences, should never happen at all.

Learning is risk taking. First, you have to admit that there’s stuff out there that you don’t know, but that you should know or would like to know. Some people get hung up right there. I’m thinking about this one kid that I know, whom I like and respect very much and think is very smart, but man I wish he would deign to ask a question every now and then. His first reaction is always to sneer when someone else asks a question, as if they just stated, “I’m the most stupid person on Earth for not already knowing this, but…” It’s really too much for him to accept the idea that you can not know something and admit it, and still be respected as a smart person. I recognize this fear-based reaction - it’s the same one I used to have at the thought of people finding out that I got a B on a test. It’s guarding your position from a place of insecurity. But you’re not going to learn anything that way. Things have been hectic over the past few weeks and we’re on vacation now, but I am going to make sure to find time and pull him aside and say, “Why don’t you have more questions on my wall outside the classroom? Think of some. I bet you can’t stump me!” And I’m sure he will, since I asked. One day I hope he will because he realizes how smart he is, and decides he wants to learn. Really learn, for its own sake.

Tomorrow is our last day of skiing for the vacation - that would be Day 5. Considering that I had not been on skis since LAST February vacation, five straight days on the mountain might seem a bit odd. And indeed, many of my muscles are complaining a bit right now. For the past two mornings I’ve been fiddling with my ski boots, thinking that they were too loose or too tight, when in fact it was mostly just sore muscles.

On the other hand, I can now take almost any blue trail on the mountain and not wipe out. So, we’re making progress. It’s less scary to tackle different areas of the ski resort, knowing that if I read the map wrong and end up on an intermediate trail, I won’t be stranded anywhere.

Next we’re visiting my sister and her husband in their new place, and then up to Portland and Powell’s bookstore and my friend Chris!

I’m in Oregon this week, skiing at Mt Hood and then visiting everyone we know in the area (mainly my sister and her husband, and my friend Chris and her fiance). Clearly have fallen off the blog posting wagon for a time, but once I’m home and near my Antarctica journal again, I’m going to start posting more of it. I’ve been preoccupied with creating the video montages and I’ve put together several photo books - and now that process is almost finished.

It’s been a busy busy time at work and a lot of interesting projects are in the works. Will update more as events occur. The biggest event we’re leading up to right now is the theater production, which is March 18th. We’re scrambling to get there - the show doesn’t even have a title yet - but I’m pleased and impressed with my group, and slowly we’re edging towards the finish line. It’ll be a great relief once it’s over!

I’m on my way to Antarctica! Watch this space for photos and travelogues very soon.

I’ll be back on Jan. 4th.

Have a safe and relaxing holiday everyone!

Where have I been? Come walk with me –

-through the vibrant markets of old Morocco, where women in pom-pom Berber hats still offer baskets of green and purple figs on the side of the street, interspersed with hanging bags of Pampers and bestsellers reprinted in French and Arabic. Our tour guide rushes ahead to the next shop where we can buy “the best” rugs and cheap jewelry probably made in China, his partner at the end of our blatant tourist conga line shooing us away from interacting too much with anyone or wandering off down the labyrinth of sidestreets. Later, we pack ourselves back onto the tour bus - large, sparkling, out of place among the dusty cars that spend their whole lives out in the Moroccan countryside, instead of just one hectic day.

-through the gloomy medieval palaces of southern Spain, snapping endless photos of intricate columns and tiles whispering Arabic prayers, doll-faced Marys with rhinestone skirts holding red cheeked babies, and then back out to the street into the bright blue light for an afternoon coffee and tapas.

-through the newly carpeted hallways of my school, shrouded in plastic and littered with half empty cardboard boxes. Cabinets are flung open to reveal spelling workbooks and rolled up maps and brand new composition notebooks. It’s quiet now, and we are waiting. 

-as the new 6th graders burst into the science room in the mornings, greeting us dramatically, showing off new iPods and groaning about new rites of passage like history tests and gym uniforms. The younger ones pop in too, bewildered to see the “older kids” in an elementary classroom, and sneak over behind my desk to coo at my tortoise and examine the figurines and pictures scattered around my work area. I put my headphones on in an attempt to get some work done, and shoo them all upstairs.

-through the pumpkin patch, surrounded by kids in their jackets against the new fall cold, exuberantly shouting. “Look, I’ve found one!” “This one’s bumpy!” “Can you take it off the vine, Lisa?” We get to a patch of vines on the ground with pumpkin-shaped berries, and the kids exclaim their surprise when I admit that I don’t know exactly what it is. “But you know how to find out, and that’s the important thing!” They laugh and run off to fill their blue plastic bags with gourds, and I pull out my camera again…

-and later, back on the bumpy bus ride back to school, I ride in the back perched on a giant pumpkin wedged into the aisle, periodically scolding the two boys next to me to stop play fighting before someone gets hurt and finally resorting to squeezing in between them so that they can’t reach each other. I expect grumbling about how unfair it all is and how the bus ride is far too long, as well as the usual abrasive comments that show that we are above all this babyish school stuff and far too cool for teachers. Instead we chat and we giggle and before long one is calmly gazing out the window lost in daydreams, and the other is leaning on me contentedly.

Up next: How to plan a trip to Antarctica at the very last minute.

http://www.raisingresilientkids.com/resources/articles/stop_fixing.html - Why We Must Stop Fixing Our Children: The Parenting Paradox

Learning to support our children in ways that are truly helpful is part of the process of raising resilient youngsters. Resilience embraces the ability of a child to deal more effectively with stress and pressure, to cope with everyday challenges, to bounce back from disappointments, adversity and trauma, to develop clear and realistic goals, to solve problems, to relate comfortably with others and to treat one’s self and others with respect.

 http://autisticbfh.blogspot.com/2007/07/welcome-to-italy.html - Welcome to Italy: The Autistic Response to “Welcome to Holland” (from Whose Planet Is It Anyway?)

WELCOME TO ITALY

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a constant need for socializing—to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a restful vacation trip to Holland. You do some Internet research on the history of windmills and other fascinating topics, and you make your plans. Quiet, leisurely art museum visits. Peaceful walks through tulip fields. Painting windmills in a pastoral landscape. Maybe you’ll read train timetables in Dutch. It’s all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Italy.”

“Italy?!?” you say. “What do you mean Italy?? I signed up for Holland! I’m supposed to be in Holland. For years, I’ve perseverated on going to Holland.”

Some blog recommendations:

http://www.earofmyheart.com/wordpress/index.php - Ear of My Heart - the memoir of a woman who became Deaf later in life

http://jodireimer.blogspot.com/ - Reimer Reason - a mom writes about life with her son who has Down syndrome

http://www.ryntales.blogspot.com/ - Ryn Tale’s Book of Days - life with Ellie, born at 27 weeks and now a delightful little girl with some big medical issues

Yesterday was my trial run for my sister’s wedding in October. Yes, this is my maid of honor dress (though it hasn’t been fitted yet) and this is what my hair will look like. I would have killed for hair like that as a child. I can’t even tell you how many disgusting perms and hairsprayed roller curl mornings I went through to make my hair anything but straight and limp.

Now as an adult, I pretty much let my hair do whatever it wants. I don’t have an hour every morning to curl it or spray it. I hate dyeing it and keep swearing I’m going to let it start coming in darker again. A few times I’ve let it get monstrously long and then I’ve snipped it all off to donate to charity. So it’s nice to dress it up once in a while.

Where have I been lately? I haven’t posted much here. The pages of my journal are largely neglected too. May and June have been an absolute frenzy of activities and special events and obligations. School is out on the 21st, so in the past couple of days my life has become noticeably slower and more relaxed, but I have been preoccupied with planning for next year and cleaning up and teaching graduate school 7 hours a week, so I haven’t had much time to reflect.

It all came to a head right around the end of May. We performed the musical for the elementary school as a dress rehearsal on May 30th. That night I taught my first 3 and a half hours of graduate class for the June semester. The next morning, May 31st, we did the show for invited guests. The timing was not the most ideal, but I can’t complain about the results - this is the best cast and crew of kids that I’ve ever worked with on a theater project, and also the show with the most creative input from students. We didn’t adapt a play or a book or a popular story this year, but basically wrote the entire show from the ground up, including most of the music. (Actually, most of the compliments I got about the show were about my piano playing.)

Once the show was over, it took a little while to fully recover my schedule. With that big project out of the way, it was time to pick up everything else that was on hold. Slowly, I’m getting around to it all.

This weekend’s project? Grade Round 2 of papers for the graduate course. The June semester is only 4 weeks, so all of the assignments and projects are crammed into a very tight space. It’s hard on the students AND their professor. I’m looking forward to the July semester, when I’ll have the same tight schedule but the benefit of running the class without also having to teach full time during the day. After this, those 2-hour sessions once a week during the regular school year will seem effortless!

Superintendent gives plaigarized speech at National Honor Society Induction

You know what is really irritating about this? As a high school student, I was a member of that honor society. If I had been found to have used a speech from the internet, I would have been kicked out. And rightly so. Plaigarism is plaigarism. Administrators should be held to the same standards as students.

This administrator’s job is up for review in a few weeks. I, for one, hope that her term is not renewed. I’d be embarrassed to have gone to school in this district if they continue to uphold this person as an “educational leader”.