My schools were always red brick. We sat in rows at our desk, facing the black board. The teacher talked. We listened. Period. Davidson Green School empowers students, from age three up through fifth grade, to learn how to be independent, creative, and responsible thinkers. That’s inspiring and it fits with what I want from education today.
I found a poem folded and put away in the old trunk my mother brought with her to Charlotte. The poem had passed around dad’s office in 1951. This 1934 poem is now framed and hanging next to my shaving mirror. I won’t say I read it every day, but I read it often. Dale Wimbrow wrote the poem in 1934. It seems old-timey now, and may have even sounded that way then, but its meaning is clear …
Mother lived in Charlotte for 20 years before passing away in 2004. She enjoyed spending time with us and celebrating life’s milestones, including weddings and the baptism of all four of her great-grandchildren. She was an important part of our life and we learned from her and her life stories. The world changed more in her lifetime, 1905 – 2004, than during any other time in history. Choices and changes were facts of her life. Some of her early story is told here.
When I’m ready for our next home, my must-have list will be short. I want a home with a covered front porch, in a neighborhood full of other front porches. That’s it. My list will stop there. Good schools, a walkable urban setting, age-friendly, nearby parks are nice, but neighborhoods without front porches no longer interest me.
Sometimes I wonder if what we do, or say, or think make a difference. People are so busy. Do they listen, or care? In my heart, I think they do. Of course, it doesn’t always show up right away. It may take weeks, or even years. People may not ever realize that the ideas stored in their brain were planted long ago, waiting for the right time to emerge. They may not remember who said it, or did it, but that doesn’t matter.
I am in my very first art class. I’m learning a lot, but not how to sketch with pastels or paint with oils – I’m learning to sit still and keep quiet. These are skills I should have mastered by now, but I have never been good at either. I can’t talk or move because I am the model. I am sitting in the middle of a high school art class surrounded by a circle of a dozen students, standing at their easels, all sketching … ME.