A few nights ago, I was unable to sleep. That, in and of itself is not uncommon at all. I was trying to figure out in my mind what my next steps in school should be. I started to think of all the classes I've had to repeat ...
those from when I went to school when I was too sick to be there and now i needed to repair my GPA
Speech
Developmental Psych
Humanities 2
Computer concepts
Those that I had to repeat because of my math issues
Beginning algebra
Intermediate algebra
Intermediate algebra
And those that I had to repeat because NSU told me to take classes at TCC and then did not allow the credits to transfer ..but they were still required.
Child Psych
Personality Theories
and all the extra time that it took and realized
if not for all the repeating ..
I'd be graduating in a month.
Wow, I've got 3 semesters to go but I theoretically *could* be graduating this semester if not for the time taken up taking these classes (let's not even start to talk about the money!)
Benjamin walked into my room and saw my face and asked what was wrong and I told him.
He quietly said
"yeah, and if my IEP had been followed and if I hadn't repeated any classes, I'd be graduating in a month too"
ouch
he's not said anything about not being in school, not being able to finish, but obviously it is bothering him.
And really ..what is 3 semesters? it's time, it's money and I'll be a year and a half older than planned when I finally get through, but the truth is, in a year and a half I'll still be 48 no matter if I'm working on my masters or finishing my bachelors ..and those 3 semesters won't prevent me from getting my masters and they very well may have me better prepared for my masters.
But my son? his lost opportunities? those will be much harder to bounce back from.
That is the true frustration.
Dr. Suess
"And will you succeed? Yes indeed! Yes indeed! Ninety Eight and Three Quarters guarenteed!"
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high school. Show all posts
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Room full of tables.
I found myself sitting in a room, a little too crowded, but not too bad. Another table or 2 in the room could have made for a little less knee knockage and plate clinking. But it was, in reality, not too bad.
I knew very few people in the room, just those at my little table, at least 4 of them.
I was listening to some of them give speeches, campaign speeches, in hopes of earning enough people's respect and trust to vote them into office for the Regional offices of Phi Theta Kappa OK/Ark region.
My fellow Alpha Mu Iota members and I kept our fingers, toes and anything we could cross, crossed for the youngest, newest member of our group. A young woman, 19, on the cusp of the reality that will be her future. Watching her give her story, knowing the back story, brought a tear to my eye.
I found myself looking around the room and I had this sudden flash back to an earlier time in my life. Another room full of round tables with chairs on them where knees knocked, cups spilled and people made general chaos. The tables were smaller, the chairs were tiny and the purpose was far different. I also was not sitting in the room with those who the chairs and tables were meant for.
I was sitting on my step fathers lap, my mother to my right and my kindergarten teacher across the table. I was 4 years old. The cut off for kindergarten was Dec 1, and my November 21 Birthday put me into the class much younger than the majority of my peers. An immature 4 years old, and rather small ... apparently, I was a handful for the teacher.
She showed my mom my file, my letters all learned and the only one in the class that could not only count to 100, with the next highest being somewhere in the 30's (not revealed who or how high into the 30's) but I was able to recognize the printed form of the letters in any order and put them in order. My letters were clearly, neatly written, in both capital and lower case and my reading skills unmistakable. They were allowing me to go to "The Big Library" that was reserved for the 2nd to 6th graders, when the rest of the class went to "The Little Book room" the library for the kindergarteners and first graders.
I can remember my step father patting either my hand or my chest. My mom nodding "hm hmms" acknowledging that they knew I could do all of these things. They, like my teacher were quite concerned with not my inability, but out right refusal to color within the lines, to write my letters on the line, in order as requested as well as my refusal to stay seated, not hollar out answers during story time and my insistance on chasing Harold around the playground.
I was sitting in this room of round tables and little chairs while grown ups talked about my abilities and my 'refusals' and then I heard it ... "She just won't make it in a classroom. You need to take her out, and put her back into pre school."
Maybe I shouldn't have understood, but I CLEARLY understood what was meant. I, was not going to be allowed to come back to school. I was being sent either home, or to school with 'little kids' back to preschool that I'd already graduated from.
I heard the words
All Day School
Immature
Stubborn
Leave.
I can remember clearly, starting to cry and asked "But aren't I smart enough?"
And I will never forget my mothers statement. In a matter of fact as if I should have understood this all along ... and if I'd wanted to, I could have had a different outcome ...she just looked at me and said
"Smart doesn't matter"
and with that, my world turned upside down. .
I went back to kindergarten the following year after spending the remaining of the world with an embarrassing pumpkin and jack and jill hill to play on. Only 'babies' would want these things!
I continued to read, and to count, and to color and to learn ... and the next year in kindergarten, on the playground the kindergarteners I was now with were about my size instead of much bigger. The bigger kindergarteners were now on the other side of the fence and at recess seemed to gather and point ... "There's Piggie! She flunked kindergarten!"
Somewhere in this time I first heard the term "Minimal Brain Dysfunction" ...so there it was, I had a brain that was broken (and somehow knew that was what dysfunction meant!) and I'd flunked kindergarten. What chance did I have? After all, I'd already been told smart did not matter.
That was it, I flunked kindergarten. It colored my thoughts of my school work clear through my high school graduation. I was not the high functioning student that could compete with my peers (and win) I was the person who flunked kindergarten.
So here I am, some 39 years later, 46 years old sitting in a room with larger chairs full of my peers. College students on the road to making a life for themselves. People of every race, color, socioeconomic status and age. I was by no means the oldest, not by a long shot. There were people who were much older, heavier and much younger and much thinner. There were people who were significantly healthier and some that were obviously in worse shape. I was a person in the middle of the room, watching speeches being given and I was suddenly struck with that memory of the round tables and smart didn't matter ... to realize I was here because Smart Does Matter ... to me .. it matters.
I was suddenly not the minimally brain dysfunctioned girl ... I was not the one that could not, would not, should not ... but the one that not onlyc ould ... should but WAS DOING ...
I was in a room full of Phi Theta Kappa students ... an honor society for those who had maintained scholarship levels that deserved recognition. I was here with people who not only thought I belonged, but wanted me here ...
I was a scholarly student whose stubborness is defined by one of the speakers (not about me directly, but boy did it feel that way!) as persistance ..the persisitance that would get me through to goal when the passion fades or seems far away. The persistance that once held me back was pushing me forward.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I realized that I'd worked very hard to get here ... and smart, for me, does count for something. It matters ...but more than that I began to understand
I matter.
I knew very few people in the room, just those at my little table, at least 4 of them.
I was listening to some of them give speeches, campaign speeches, in hopes of earning enough people's respect and trust to vote them into office for the Regional offices of Phi Theta Kappa OK/Ark region.
My fellow Alpha Mu Iota members and I kept our fingers, toes and anything we could cross, crossed for the youngest, newest member of our group. A young woman, 19, on the cusp of the reality that will be her future. Watching her give her story, knowing the back story, brought a tear to my eye.
I found myself looking around the room and I had this sudden flash back to an earlier time in my life. Another room full of round tables with chairs on them where knees knocked, cups spilled and people made general chaos. The tables were smaller, the chairs were tiny and the purpose was far different. I also was not sitting in the room with those who the chairs and tables were meant for.
I was sitting on my step fathers lap, my mother to my right and my kindergarten teacher across the table. I was 4 years old. The cut off for kindergarten was Dec 1, and my November 21 Birthday put me into the class much younger than the majority of my peers. An immature 4 years old, and rather small ... apparently, I was a handful for the teacher.
She showed my mom my file, my letters all learned and the only one in the class that could not only count to 100, with the next highest being somewhere in the 30's (not revealed who or how high into the 30's) but I was able to recognize the printed form of the letters in any order and put them in order. My letters were clearly, neatly written, in both capital and lower case and my reading skills unmistakable. They were allowing me to go to "The Big Library" that was reserved for the 2nd to 6th graders, when the rest of the class went to "The Little Book room" the library for the kindergarteners and first graders.
I can remember my step father patting either my hand or my chest. My mom nodding "hm hmms" acknowledging that they knew I could do all of these things. They, like my teacher were quite concerned with not my inability, but out right refusal to color within the lines, to write my letters on the line, in order as requested as well as my refusal to stay seated, not hollar out answers during story time and my insistance on chasing Harold around the playground.
I was sitting in this room of round tables and little chairs while grown ups talked about my abilities and my 'refusals' and then I heard it ... "She just won't make it in a classroom. You need to take her out, and put her back into pre school."
Maybe I shouldn't have understood, but I CLEARLY understood what was meant. I, was not going to be allowed to come back to school. I was being sent either home, or to school with 'little kids' back to preschool that I'd already graduated from.
I heard the words
All Day School
Immature
Stubborn
Leave.
I can remember clearly, starting to cry and asked "But aren't I smart enough?"
And I will never forget my mothers statement. In a matter of fact as if I should have understood this all along ... and if I'd wanted to, I could have had a different outcome ...she just looked at me and said
"Smart doesn't matter"
and with that, my world turned upside down. .
I went back to kindergarten the following year after spending the remaining of the world with an embarrassing pumpkin and jack and jill hill to play on. Only 'babies' would want these things!
I continued to read, and to count, and to color and to learn ... and the next year in kindergarten, on the playground the kindergarteners I was now with were about my size instead of much bigger. The bigger kindergarteners were now on the other side of the fence and at recess seemed to gather and point ... "There's Piggie! She flunked kindergarten!"
Somewhere in this time I first heard the term "Minimal Brain Dysfunction" ...so there it was, I had a brain that was broken (and somehow knew that was what dysfunction meant!) and I'd flunked kindergarten. What chance did I have? After all, I'd already been told smart did not matter.
That was it, I flunked kindergarten. It colored my thoughts of my school work clear through my high school graduation. I was not the high functioning student that could compete with my peers (and win) I was the person who flunked kindergarten.
So here I am, some 39 years later, 46 years old sitting in a room with larger chairs full of my peers. College students on the road to making a life for themselves. People of every race, color, socioeconomic status and age. I was by no means the oldest, not by a long shot. There were people who were much older, heavier and much younger and much thinner. There were people who were significantly healthier and some that were obviously in worse shape. I was a person in the middle of the room, watching speeches being given and I was suddenly struck with that memory of the round tables and smart didn't matter ... to realize I was here because Smart Does Matter ... to me .. it matters.
I was suddenly not the minimally brain dysfunctioned girl ... I was not the one that could not, would not, should not ... but the one that not onlyc ould ... should but WAS DOING ...
I was in a room full of Phi Theta Kappa students ... an honor society for those who had maintained scholarship levels that deserved recognition. I was here with people who not only thought I belonged, but wanted me here ...
I was a scholarly student whose stubborness is defined by one of the speakers (not about me directly, but boy did it feel that way!) as persistance ..the persisitance that would get me through to goal when the passion fades or seems far away. The persistance that once held me back was pushing me forward.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I realized that I'd worked very hard to get here ... and smart, for me, does count for something. It matters ...but more than that I began to understand
I matter.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Summer 2009
So, it's clear into summer and I'm still not blogging much ... at all.
I've taken the summer off of school in order to get my teeth taken care of. The process is more difficult than I'd forseen and now see the wisdom in my family and my docs pushing me to just concentrate on dental and not go to summer school.
I had 10 teeth removed a couple of weeks ago and in a couple of weeks will have the remaining 16 teeth removed. (was already missing a tooth or two)
I go tomorrow to 'pick out' my dentures ..style and color. Never realized there was that much to the process!!
There has been a couple of unexpected issues with the process ... one ....with only having to consume liquids ... I increased my calories to the amount and timing the endocrinologist has been after me for 3 or 4 years to do ... and I lost 10 lbs! I still can't make sense of intake of double the calories and loose weight.
I started to introduce real food this week and have run into a big issue ...aside from the expected trouble that the eating disorder would cause .... I've ran into a super taste issue. EVERYTHING is too sweet, too salty, too garlicy, too ...you name it, if there is flavor, there is too much!! Everything tastes so over done I can barely eat! Even plain, unsweetened oatmeal was too sweet!! How do you get more bland than unsweetened oatmeal?
So, on top of being a bit overwhelmed by all that food ... that flavor is making it almost impossible to eat ...
I knew that I'd been having issues with the protein shakes and meal replacements being too sweet, but I thought it was just tooooo many sweet things in too short of amount of time. Nope, it's me.
I've done some research on dental procedures and tastes and all I find is a DECREASE of flavor not the opposite!
So .. interesting turn of events I didn't need .. it makes it even harder to eat than ever.
On the 6th I get the rest of the teeth removed, dentures and start school on the 17th.
I hope the next procedure goes more smoothly or starting school 11 days later will be a big challenge!!!
I've taken the summer off of school in order to get my teeth taken care of. The process is more difficult than I'd forseen and now see the wisdom in my family and my docs pushing me to just concentrate on dental and not go to summer school.
I had 10 teeth removed a couple of weeks ago and in a couple of weeks will have the remaining 16 teeth removed. (was already missing a tooth or two)
I go tomorrow to 'pick out' my dentures ..style and color. Never realized there was that much to the process!!
There has been a couple of unexpected issues with the process ... one ....with only having to consume liquids ... I increased my calories to the amount and timing the endocrinologist has been after me for 3 or 4 years to do ... and I lost 10 lbs! I still can't make sense of intake of double the calories and loose weight.
I started to introduce real food this week and have run into a big issue ...aside from the expected trouble that the eating disorder would cause .... I've ran into a super taste issue. EVERYTHING is too sweet, too salty, too garlicy, too ...you name it, if there is flavor, there is too much!! Everything tastes so over done I can barely eat! Even plain, unsweetened oatmeal was too sweet!! How do you get more bland than unsweetened oatmeal?
So, on top of being a bit overwhelmed by all that food ... that flavor is making it almost impossible to eat ...
I knew that I'd been having issues with the protein shakes and meal replacements being too sweet, but I thought it was just tooooo many sweet things in too short of amount of time. Nope, it's me.
I've done some research on dental procedures and tastes and all I find is a DECREASE of flavor not the opposite!
So .. interesting turn of events I didn't need .. it makes it even harder to eat than ever.
On the 6th I get the rest of the teeth removed, dentures and start school on the 17th.
I hope the next procedure goes more smoothly or starting school 11 days later will be a big challenge!!!
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Antiquities
So, Yesterday, I took my youngest son, my BABY up to the high school (sort of, 9th and 10th grade only in the school) to pick up his schedule.
Today, I took my oldest son, who is still my BABY, to the other high school (11th and 12th grade only) to pick up his schedule.
My youngest is a freshman, my oldest a senior. I, am now the mother of 2 high school students! *shock*
I then, wanted to get an appraisal on my kitchen table. I have a very unique kitchen table. Solid Maple, and my parents bought it at an antique store when I was a year old. It's not a normal table at all, round (not oval) and it is SOLID maple. Heavy and beautiful.
So, I stopped at an Antique store, it was obvious that she didn't have furniture, but I thought she might know who could do appraisals (the answer was a *no* ...what????)
My son, just found a new hobby in life. Antiquing! He loved the history ..and he found a lot of little things that he loved. One, he collects hats, and he found an old, spanish, wool bull fighters cap! He can afford it after he gets his allowance.
The other, is, he likes to collect military stuff. Doesn't matter what branch, and it can be a pin, a pen, a bracelet, arm band ...doesn't matter ... he loves it. Well, he is also a HUGE M*A*S*H fan. We walked into the second store, and they had an old Army Jacket, obviously real, with the name "Pearce" on it (obviously, it's Pierce in MASH, but hey! Close enough for government work!)
Turned out, that for pants and jacket, they only wanted $5!!!!!! The guy was discharged in 1964 and passed away right after coming home from Viet Nam. The owner of his belongings does not want them ...at all ..and is just selling them! WOW.
So, he has them hung on hangers and hung on the wall right now till we figure out a way to display them.
The hardest part (as well as a fun part) was seeing my entire childhood in the antique stores! "We had these plates!"
"We had these glasses!"
"We had this mixing bowl!" (we HAVE THAT MIXING BOWL AND YOU WANT $35 bucks for it? I'm USING MINE ???? um ...er .. uh ... maybe not anymore!!!)
"We had this ..."
I think I said that about 100 times. I could have restocked my childhood kitchen from those 2 stores! What is my childhood doing in an ANTIQUE STORE???
I did see a few things I will go back and get. They held a lot of meaning to me as a child ...and ...well, to have something just like them ... will be very special!
Today, I took my oldest son, who is still my BABY, to the other high school (11th and 12th grade only) to pick up his schedule.
My youngest is a freshman, my oldest a senior. I, am now the mother of 2 high school students! *shock*
I then, wanted to get an appraisal on my kitchen table. I have a very unique kitchen table. Solid Maple, and my parents bought it at an antique store when I was a year old. It's not a normal table at all, round (not oval) and it is SOLID maple. Heavy and beautiful.
So, I stopped at an Antique store, it was obvious that she didn't have furniture, but I thought she might know who could do appraisals (the answer was a *no* ...what????)
My son, just found a new hobby in life. Antiquing! He loved the history ..and he found a lot of little things that he loved. One, he collects hats, and he found an old, spanish, wool bull fighters cap! He can afford it after he gets his allowance.
The other, is, he likes to collect military stuff. Doesn't matter what branch, and it can be a pin, a pen, a bracelet, arm band ...doesn't matter ... he loves it. Well, he is also a HUGE M*A*S*H fan. We walked into the second store, and they had an old Army Jacket, obviously real, with the name "Pearce" on it (obviously, it's Pierce in MASH, but hey! Close enough for government work!)
Turned out, that for pants and jacket, they only wanted $5!!!!!! The guy was discharged in 1964 and passed away right after coming home from Viet Nam. The owner of his belongings does not want them ...at all ..and is just selling them! WOW.
So, he has them hung on hangers and hung on the wall right now till we figure out a way to display them.
The hardest part (as well as a fun part) was seeing my entire childhood in the antique stores! "We had these plates!"
"We had these glasses!"
"We had this mixing bowl!" (we HAVE THAT MIXING BOWL AND YOU WANT $35 bucks for it? I'm USING MINE ???? um ...er .. uh ... maybe not anymore!!!)
"We had this ..."
I think I said that about 100 times. I could have restocked my childhood kitchen from those 2 stores! What is my childhood doing in an ANTIQUE STORE???
I did see a few things I will go back and get. They held a lot of meaning to me as a child ...and ...well, to have something just like them ... will be very special!
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