You've probably noticed that my productivity this month has dropped off significantly. Writer's block? Not exactly. Life has gotten in the way and, in particular, the passing of a generation has stymied my creativity. My stepmom died last week, and as is so often the case with those battling a terminal disease, the speed of her decline was both a blessing and a shock. Emotionally, I was on a different timeline, one that would allow at least a few more conversations, maybe even one more visit. Instead, a generation in my family slipped away before my siblings and I really had time to ponder what this means. We are the sole survivors who will now need to take it upon ourselves to plan gatherings. It's up to us to pass down stories and traditions to keep our parents' memories alive. As with most new stages in life, I feel woefully unprepared, maybe because I'm the baby in the family. For every ten pictures taken of my brother as a baby, I got one. My brother and sister always joke about the little blue book that mom and dad gave them to teach about the bird and bees; I never saw that infamous book. By the time I rolled into the family, my mom wasn't being taught by her German housekeeper that children need firm limits from time to time. "Brooksie's hiney's not made from china" is folklore in our family. I am not disappointed about any of this. There are certain realities that are due to our birth order, something none of us has control over. There's no denying its influence on our personalities, just as there's no denying the importance of siblings. My brother, sister, and I are all different individuals, but we do share our heritage, and at the core this gives us a special bond. We also love and miss the generation that created and molded us. Those memories, thankfully, will never go away.
During my second year of teaching I had a parent who prefaced every conversation by saying, "Well, you know, I AM a psychologist..." Code speak for, "You are a young, lowly teacher who knows nothing, so let me enlighten you." I WAS young and new at the profession, not wise to the realities of parenting, but I wasn't stupid. Midway through October, I did what most every teacher I know does when group dynamics call for a disruption -- I changed the seating order in my classroom. Now, had I been a psychologist, I would have known that this was a dangerous thing to do to kids. My psychologist parent helped me see the light. "I AM a psychologist," the conversation once again began, "and humans are creatures of habit. In a large lecture hall, students will naturally gravitate to the same seat, day after day. Your students are being harmed by this new seating arrangement." Now back in the day I had to go up to the school office to take phone calls b
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