Visionary

Do you ever get asked those impossible choice questions some people live for? You know, the ones like which one of your children you would save if you had to choose or if you would flip the switch that would keep a full train from plunging into a canyon but kill your only son who had wandered onto the track. Those impossible questions. Maybe people just like to see me squirm because I seem to get that type of conundrum presented to me all the time. Most of the questions have varied and morphed over time but one has remained constant: Would you rather lose your sight or lose your hearing? Of course, the real answer is neither, thank you, but the point of these dumb dilemmas is to force you to make a choice. So, for me, the answer has always been clear. If I couldn’t see--to read, to recognize loved ones, to move about independently--my life would be qualitatively fractured beyond repair. I would have to preserve my sight, but I say that realizing how much I would lose if I couldn’t hear. Singing and dancing as I know them would be gone. I couldn’t gauge the tone of sadness or joy in voices I love. And a speech teacher who can’t hear speeches…But that would still be my choice. Maybe Bill Martin Jr. and Eric Carle’s arctic protagonist in Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear? would choose differently. Snow is snow is snow, after all.

http://www.amazon.com/Polar-Bear-What-Brown-Friends/dp/0805053883

http://www.teachingk-8.com/archives/celebrations_in_reading_and_writing/remembering_bill_martin_jr_by_maryann_manning.html

http://ericcarleblog.blogspot.com/

Follow Me

There are three tests of parenthood: putting a drawing on the fridge, hearing your parents’ words come out of your mouth, and seeing yourself in your kids. You realize pretty early in the parent experience that you are always being watched…even when you are doing something mundane. One day I heard preschool Keilana chastising another child for their “totally unacceptable behavior,” and I thought I was in an echo chamber. The first time I saw toddler Connor adjust his jeans with his wrists--a perfect miniature of his dad--I knew how closely we are observed by our little ones. Just when I think Addison is acting as neurotic and uptight as a person can possibly get, someone will remark how like me she is. And now Scarlett watches us like a little hawk, so what we do and say is suddenly infinitely more meaningful than it was just two years ago. We spent this past Saturday at the Pathway to Peace rally in a local park, listening to passionate speakers and trying to make collective sense of the world. At one point, everyone joined hands and called out individual wishes for humanity--everything from clean water to global peace. As I looked around at these good people, I felt I was giving my daughter a gift by introducing her to them. I read Richard Edwards’ Copy Me, Copycub, about a baby polar bear learning by following his mother’s footsteps, with a fervent prayer in my heart. Please, let us lead her well.


http://www.amazon.com/Copy-Me-Copycub-Richard-Edwards/dp/0060285702


http://www.jacketflap.com/persondetail.asp?person=130677