Tales from a Teacher-Mama

I am addicted to reading. I have always loved to read, but my actual pursuit of this interest has waxed and waned. This year it is waxing. Just this month I’ve read 12 books, and will finish a 13th tonight before I go to bed. This summer when I discovered the Twilight books by Stephenie Meyer (yes I’m one of those people…), I read them each twice, then reread my favorite parts.

I read picture books with my kids, professional books related to my job, young adult novels, adult fiction and non-fiction, poetry, fantasy–genre doesn’t matter so long as the content catches my interest. Often I continue reading even when I’m not truly interested; I’m compelled to finish the book, like it or not.

When I finish a book, I immediately start figuring out what I will read next. If I don’t have a book lined up and ready to go, I start searching the bookshelves of the house. There’s usually something I haven’t read that I’ll give a try. But sometimes nothing strikes my fancy, and it’s too late to go out to the library or even a bookstore. Then I start walking aimlessly around the house, getting more and more anxious that I don’t have a book to read! My hands start shaking. I might try to abate my panic by reading a magazine, and that might help me at least get to bed for the night. The next day, though, I will go out and get myself a fresh stack of books. I don’t like to be without a ‘fix.’

It seems some of my passion for books rubs off on those around me. On my very first date with my husband Jeff, I went on and on about two books in particular: Holes by Louis Sachar and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J. K. Rowling. The fact that he was sincerely interested in my retelling of each story was an indicator to me that he was a keeper. As we began dating, he asked me to tell him more about Harry Potter. Finally, I brought him my battered copy and read the book aloud to him. He quickly became addicted to the series, and over the years we have enjoyed reading all of them aloud to each other in turns. In part because of Jeff and me, my sister-in-law Tina also got hooked on Harry Potter. We even attended the midnight book release party for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows together–on the night before Tina’s wedding!

While our family was visiting for Thanksgiving, my father-in-law noticed my copy of The Story of My Life by Helen Keller sitting on a table. He commented that he remembered seeing the movie The Miracle Worker with Patty Duke and asked if the book was any good. I said I had enjoyed it and told him a little about it. Before he left he had read the first three chapters and asked to borrow it, which I was glad to have him do! Later when I told Tina and Jeff about this, they were both surprised as they’d rarely seen their dad pick up a book. Tina joked about my apparent “power” to get their family reading, and Jeff had similar thoughts. I laughed and said maybe that’s my superpower! I could be the superhero who foists books upon unsuspecting non-readers!

Whether I have a superpower or an addiction, I suppose there are a lot of things I might love that are worse than books.

For a long time now, I have considered Easter my favorite holiday, but this year I think Thanksgiving has moved up to the #1 spot on my list. Here’s why: my in-laws.

That may be over-simplifying, so let me explain. Since my hubby and I have had kids, we celebrate the “big” holidays at home, far away from our families in other states. In four of the last five years, we have hosted Thanksgiving with my husband’s family–his dad, one or the other of his sisters and their husbands and our one little nephew.  This year we got them all! One sister-in-law and her husband now live in town (what a blessing for us!), and the other set with their son drove in with my father-in-law.

I love having our home full of family, and this particular group on Thanksgiving always feels so relaxed. I love making casseroles and baking pies, and my husband enjoys deep-frying the turkey. I make recipes that I grew up eating at get-togethers, such as my favorite great-aunt’s cranberry-raspberry jello, so I feel like I’m sharing some of my old family traditions with my “new” family. I feel intertwined. I love seeing my daughters playing with their little cousin and hearing the kids’ laughter through the house. I love having my sisters-in-law at my sides, helping prepare dishes and set the table. I love hearing the “boys” chatting and laughing while waiting for the food to be ready. When mealtime comes, I feel gratified to see everyone stuff themselves and pat their full stomachs with satisfaction. Well, everyone except my adorable nephew who is a picky eater and said he “just wanted to look at the food.” And that’s all he did–he was content drinking orange juice from a wine glass.

Once the kids are put to bed, we typically play a game. This year we played Trivial Pursuit 90s edition, then moved on to two games of Cranium. If you have never played Cranium, I highly recommend it. It’s a board game played in teams with questions or activities in four categories: Word Worm (word puzzles, definitions, and spelling challenges), Data Head (factoids, true/false questions), Creative Cat (drawing–sometimes with eyes closed, or sculpting with clay to convey clues), and Star Performer (charades, acting like a famous person, or humming a tune to be guessed). With such variety in the game, it never becomes stale. We laughed so hard and so often that we had to take breaks to catch our breath a few times. My father-in-law would win the Performer of the Night Award if we gave one; he was supposed to hum “We Will Rock You” for his team to guess, but he opted to act it out (which was really not an option!) by imitating a head-banger. The expression on his face was so priceless that we all laughed to the point of tears; I’m still chuckling to myself remembering it! I think we might have played a third game if it weren’t past midnight with some of us facing work or a long drive home in the morning.

Family, food, and fun–it’s cliche, but it’s why I love Thanksgiving. I deeply feel my blessings with each of my senses: seeing the smiling faces around me, hearing the chatter and laughter, smelling and tasting all the yummy dishes, and feeling the embraces of loved ones. Of course I miss my natal family and wish they could share the holiday with us, too. But this year, with the ten of us, I felt full. My husband’s parents and siblings have become more than just legal relations to me; in my heart they are my family now too. Maybe I can call them my “in-hearts” instead of “in-laws.” Whatever I call them, I love them, and they help make Thanksgiving special, joyful. Being together with them makes me feel very grateful, indeed.

This year, among my many blessings, I give thanks most of all for my family near and far.

I have become increasingly interested in autism spectrum disorders, and last week I attended the 2008 Network of Autism Training and Technical Assistance Programs (NATTAP) Conference. I learned quite a bit of interesting stuff. For example, the current statistic that’s advertised is 1 in 150 children is diagnosed with autism; however, the estimates actually vary from 1 in 300 to 1 in 100…and it’s likely that the actual occurrence is closer to 1 in 100. Autism is more common than pediatric cancer, diabetes, and AIDS combined (http://www.autismspeaks.org/whatisit/index.php ).

But a definite highlight of the conference was hearing Temple Grandin speak. I had heard of Temple before, as she is one of the most well-known autistic people today. Dr. Oliver Sacks wrote about Temple in his book An Anthropologist on Mars, and she has been featured in the media on multiple TV shows including 20/20 and the Today Show and in magazines such as Time and People. Dr Grandin (that’s right, she has a PhD) has written several books about both her life with autism and her work as one of the world’s foremost livestock-handling equipment designers.

I bought Temple’s book Emergence: Labeled Autistic and started reading it the night before she was to speak at the conference. I learned about her early life in the 1950s–how she didn’t speak until age 3, how difficult it was for her to cope with certain sensory stimulation, and how she often retreated into her own inner world. I find it fascinating that she can remember so many of the feelings and experiences of her childhood, and her story offers great insight into the world of a person with autism.

At age 61, Temple has obviously made monumental strides in her life. I was curious to see and hear how she would speak in front of such a large audience; I have to admit that I was a bit surprised at just how “normal” she appeared! Considering that for the first few years of her life, Temple communicated by screaming, peeping and humming, she has obviously worked diligently at constantly improving her language and social skills. In Emergence, Temple describes her work on a “squeeze machine,” a modified version of a cattle chute. Temple worked for years to design a machine that she could control and that would provide tactile stimulation in the form of gentle pressure. She found that it helped her calm herself and learn to understand herself as well as other people. She was driven by the idea that this machine could help not only herself but also others like her.

During her speech at the conference, she spoke particularly passionately about using autistic youngster’s fixations to help them. People respect talent, she said, so develop strengths into skills that others want and need. She urged the introduction of mentors into children’s lives to help them cultivate their interests into skills. In all Temple said, I heard this underlying message loud and clear: “Look at me–the challenges I’ve had to overcome and the successes that I have achieved. If I could do it, don’t EVER assume that another person with an autism spectrum disorder can’t do it too!”

One of Temple’s comments in her speech made me laugh but also rang with truth: “The problem with you ‘neurotypicals’ is that you generalize too much!” She meant it in the context of giving directions; for example, a neurotypical boss says to an autistic employee, “Straighten up the shelves,” when more specific directions would produce better results, such as, “Group the large bottles together, then the medium, then the small…” But I read into her statement a larger truth: we ‘neurotypicals’ generalize so much that we don’t make allowances for the singularity of a person with autism. We so often value sameness over individuality.

It has become almost cliche to speak of students’ “different abilities” rather than disabilities, but more and more this is how I truly view them. Each and every child–and adult–has a unique brain that perceives and processes information in its own way. I’m learning to appreciate this beautiful uniqueness, especially to help me better understand and teach my students. Call me Pollyanna, but I dream of a world where we can admire each person’s distinctions as ‘wonderful’ rather than ‘weird.’ Awareness and acceptance would do us all a lot of good.

To learn more about autism spectrum disorders and/or Temple Grandin, check out these links:

  http://www.templegrandin.com/

Autism Speaks

Autism Society of America

My youngest daughter, 5-year-old Sarah, is truly one of the most interesting characters I’ve ever known. She has an active imagination, complete with a bevy of imaginary friends to keep her company. And some of the things she says are so…surprising. For example, one evening after dinner she was dancing around the living room and happened to pass gas. I looked at her with wide eyes, waiting for her embarrassed “excuse me.” Instead she said, “Delighted,” and almost curtsied, as if she’d just met the queen rather than tooted. I’m telling you–she’s a character.

An aside about me: I’m 34, happily married with two lovely little girls, Laura (6-1/2) and “delighted” Sarah. I teach students who are deaf and hard-of-hearing; yes, I am fluent in American Sign Language, but no, I do not read Braille (that’s for the blind!)

Back to Sarah. I like to ask her from time to time what she wants to be when she grows up. Her answer has been the same for a year or two now: “I want to be a mommy like you.” (I try to recall the sweetness of this sentiment when she’s driving me absolutely bonkers with her willfulness or whining.) The last time I checked in with her, she expanded on her answer: “I’m going to be a teacher-mama like you.” I asked what she would like to teach, and she replied that she will “teach at a signing school, with you, and then we can see each other in the hall and maybe eat lunch together.” Is this not a mother’s fantasy–that her child not only wants to grow up to be just like her, but wants to work alongside her?! I can’t honestly say I envision her as a teacher, and it’s hard for me to picture my 5-year-old as a mother. But whatever path she chooses to follow into her adult life, I hope she holds onto that feeling. I hope that she continues to find me worthy of her admiration and enjoyable to have in her company. I hope, and I pray…I know adolescence will sneak up on us all too soon!

So I am a teacher-mama. Thank you, Sarah, for a title for my blog. I will try not to embarrass you–or your sister, or your father, or my students–too much with my posts.

No promises though. “Delighted.”