Teaching young and old dogs new tricks
In the last month our family has experienced yet another of
those very important "first" events: our oldest son Bjorn began
kindergarten. I find it so interesting that the sentiments of
friends and family were as much about concern for how we, the
parents, would fare, as they were for how Bjorn would handle
the new transition. "How do you feel?" "Boy, I was a mess when
my child went off to school!" We certainly had our own thoughts
about how that first day would go, how he would feel on the
bus ride, whether he would be shy or lonely in a classroom of
strangers. As it turned out, we needn't have worried. On the
first day, we had a camera at the ready for that momentous stepping-on-the-bus
photo. The bus wound up being late, and I was just phoning the
transportation office when the bus finally arrived, 30 minutes
after the anticipated time. The end result was a photo of the
bus doors closing behind my son, who hopped aboard without a
concern. Since that day, the school bus has been right on schedule,
and my son has continued to greet every school day with seemingly
more enthusiasm than the previous one. His willingness to dive
into this new learning experience and to put his best foot forward
in unfamiliar circumstances, has reminded me about qualities
that I also should employ, both in the context of my recent
career change and as I step onto skis this year: don't be afraid
to try new things, try to have a little fun in all that you
do, and don't be afraid to make mistakes.
With Bjorn now in school and myself working from home, I
at first felt compelled to sign up for every volunteer activity
that his school offered. I quickly got myself under control
and restricted my time commitment to a few hours each month.
I also decided to attend PTA meetings when I was able. There
I sat at the first PTA meeting: until recently, Margaret A.
Adelsman, Ph.D., who had studied complicated questions of
cell and molecular biology. Now I was a new kindergarten Mom
who was mostly baffled by the jargon and acronyms I was hearing
relating to the education system that my child had just entered.
So, I was out of my element, but I figured that if Bjorn could
do it, so could I.
As my first volunteer activity, I spent a few hours in Bjorn's
kindergarten class, and was able to catch a glimpse of him
in his new environment in addition to observing how the classroom
functioned as a whole. When I arrived, the class greeted me
with, "Hello, Mrs. Adelsman!" This was followed with about
a one-second delay by, "Hi, Mama!" I'm sure I was grinning
like a Cheshire cat for awhile after that. At least he was
still willing to admit in front of peers that we are related.
My task as a parent helper was to generate some cut-out
images of cameras from construction paper using a nifty gizmo
in a nearby workroom. As I set to work, I thought that my
cameras didn't look exactly like the example I'd seen, but
I continued on merrily with my task anyway. My steel trap
of a mind had failed to recognize that the paper needed to
be inserted on the side opposite of what I had done. After
a good laugh and a brief demo by Bjorn's teacher, I managed
to crank out a stellar set of cut-out cameras, intended for
framing the photographed cherubic faces of my son and his
fellow kindergartners. Once again, I had felt a little out
of place-it's an interesting experience to sit in tiny chairs
for any length of time-but I had a wonderful time, met some
new people, and even learned from a silly mistake.
As I have set my sights on the ski trails again this winter
for the first time in several years, I also find myself a
bit out of my element at times. There are new rollerskis,
new waxes and wax techniques, new skiing and training techniques,
and new classical and skating equipment. Sometimes it feels
a little daunting, and sometimes I am reluctant to confess
my naivete when it comes to the latest in cross-country skiing.
Still, I know that I can only better myself by being open
to new information, by assessing and evaluating various training
approaches, by learning new ways to prepare my skis for the
fastest ride they can give me.
Perhaps one of my personal stumbling blocks is having been
away from the sport for a number of years after once feeling
fairly proficient in my knowledge. It's humbling to confess
that I need to learn, but I also have recognized through many
years of education that we are pretty much continual students
in most areas of our lives. Certainly this is true in academia,
in parenting, in our various professions, and even in cross-country
skiing. I can still recall my reluctance to take on this new
"skating fad" when it hit the skiing community late in my
high school years. I was certain that it was impractical to
ski a long race with absolutely no kick wax on your skis.
Well, I had a chance to test that little theory at the Pepsi
Cup race. I soon realized that the layer of extra blue in
my kick zone was not helping me very much as I awkwardly skated
across a long stretch of lake before getting to Giant's Ridge.
It helped even more to make the switch to the shorter skis,
longer poles, and stiffer boot-binding systems, and I eventually
accepted this new-fangled technique and came to love it just
as much as my beloved classical skiing. I guess the more we
know, the more there is to learn�as the old saying goes. My
son seems to be approaching his learning with a certain grace
that I hope I can mirror. This may not always be the case
(for either of us), but I hope that both he and I can look
back at the wonder of his kindergarten years, when everything
is new, and remind ourselves to explore new things, to learn
from mistakes, and to embrace learning with a smile.
|