All posts by Walter

Don’t just sit there! Write!

If you write something, that makes you a writer, right? One day while substitute teaching “language arts,” a sixth-grader objected to the activity by claiming, “I am not a writer.” I walked to her desk and instructed her to open her writing journal to a blank page. “Now write the sentence ‘I am not a writer.'” After she followed my instruction I said, “So now you are a writer because you just wrote something.”

She gave me that “you’ve got to be kidding” look that pre-teens develop to perfection. My next prompt was “Now write another sentence telling me why you’re not a writer.” It took a few return visits to her desk to get her pencil moving in part because she wanted to prove me wrong. Plus it would have been more fun to stare off into space thoughtfully. But that wouldn’t be writing. After a couple of visits and sentences, her pencil seemed to develop a mind of its own. As I recall, she wrote an impassioned piece about how much she hated writing.I still wonder if she saw the irony.

A recent blog post by Seth Godin suggests “There is no such thing as writer’s block.” That set me to thinking big time, particularly since I love the opportunity to get kids writing. They learn all to quickly to claim they have “writer’s block.” I’m not too sympathetic.

Merriam Webster defines writer’s block as a “psychological inhibition.” For those of us who love language and words, there’s an opportunity here. “You don’t have writer’s block! You have a psychological inhibition!”

You have to love how serious that sounds.

But the good news is you can be your own therapist. If that weren’t the case, I’d open a posh retreat center with in-depth programs and support programs for “writers who are suffering from psychological inhibitions.” Attending would be very expensive.

Do enough bad writing and some good writing is bound to show up.

Seth Godin

Isn’t that comforting? We can enjoy our writer’s block by making it a serious psychological inhibition. It won’t take much “googling” to discover a long list of reasons and explanations for those dreaded issues.

Or we can write. Yes, it might be bad writing at first, but you can’t improve on a blank page. Well, that’s not 100% true. You improve on a blank page by getting words on it.

No thinking – that comes later. You must write your first draft with your heart. You rewrite with your head. The first key to writing is… to write, not to think!

Finding Forrester

That is one of the most freeing bits of advice I’ve ever seen about writing. No, writing isn’t always easy. But it can be simple.

Write. Just write.

More of Life’s Lessons

Well, Anina is at it again. In her most recent email, she introduced her “Uncle Walter” and my recent post about her. She thinks it’s pretty cool that she’s been quoted but quickly adds, “I’m just a bit flattered. Mom said there is a Bible verse that says, ‘The meek shall inherit the earth.’ So I’m trying to be meek.”

We ought to consider following her example and work on trying to be meek. Our society would benefit immensely from a better balance between meekness and self-confidence. I think Anina is already learning that those two qualities are not mutually exclusive. That’s pretty good for someone who just turned four months old.

How are you doing with it?

I have some more good news about Anina. Her Mom is posting her emails as episodes on Kindle Vella. This is a fairly new platform that I won’t pretend to be intimately familiar with. (Does that qualify as being meek?) You can read Anina’s first four episodes (emails) for free, then you buy very affordable tokens to “unlock” the others. I suspect Anina might explain, “A girl’s gotta eat, you know.”

Episode One is “1st Days on Planet Earth,” And starts when she’s ten days old. She explains that she decided to keep a journal so she’d remember what it was like being an infant. When she arrives home (day 3), she realizes she’s been there before because she remembers hearing things but is seeing things for the first time. That results in another bit of Anina Wisdom.

The world is a slightly different place when you see it from the outside.

Anina Mary

We do learn a lot from her, including the derivation and correct pronunciation of her name. I also learned that we share several important opinions of the world.

So… remember that you can subscribe to receive Anina’s emails and catch up on the ones you’ve missed on Kindle Vella. Tell her Uncle Walter sent you. Anina recently learned that an educator is someone who “talks to us about things we don’t know anything about.” I wonder how long it will be before she realizes she is an educator.

Life’s Lessons

I am proud to proclaim I have a new friend. She’s now calling me “Uncle Walter.” We haven’t met in person and we’ve really only communicated through her Mom, but I love the way she thinks.

Let me explain. Anina is, by my count, 17 weeks old. Her Mom, Katrina Hoover Lee, is a writer. We first met when I read her book, From the White House to the Amish. Shortly after Anina was born, I started receiving emails written by Anina. Well, obviously that’s not quite accurate.

Or maybe it is. Mom is an excellent writer. More importantly, she has an amazing ability to “channel” Anina. When I read those emails, it’s easy to forget it’s not actually Anina doing the typing.

I love the way kids think, so I love the way Anina thinks. We could learn a lot by getting into their small heads. They may be little people but they really do have big brains. That’s how my book came about. Thanks to Anina, I’m discovering that even really small people have a lot to offer. I look forward to her emails and love seeing the world through her eyes.

When I look at my new sign I find myself smiling and realizing that some lessons really aren not fun to learn. I also find myself, like Anina, questioning things, hopefully with her childish innocence and curiosity. I’d like to think we are kindred spirits. She is seeing so many things for the very first time. I’m trying to see some things with a fresh set of eyes. She’s a big help with that. It’s fun and helpful to think like a five-month-old.

If you’re interested in what Anina is thinking, visit her Mom’s website. Anina isn’t posting yet, so you’ll need to sign up to receive her emails. There’s a subscribe link right at the top. You can also check out some of the books Mom’s written. (I’m pressing for a future book that’s a collection of Anina’s emails–“Anina’s Wisdom.” ) Tell her Uncle Walter sent you.

Mr. Boomsma Learns to Count

We went to a “sunset picnic” on an Amish Family Farm during our recent vacation to Central Pennsylvania. There was much to see and learn. The food was excellent, and the lemonade was icy cold.

The lemonade was served by ten-year-old Hanna Rose, an engaging young lady notable for her pleasant smile and efficient pouring. Of course, I could not resist engaging her in conversation.

(To understand our conversation, it becomes necessary to disclose that most Amish children attend private Amish schools only through eighth grade. The value of education is high but takes a very different form than the one we English have adopted.)

So I asked Hanna Rose what grade she was in. She finished filling my glass, smiled at me, and said, “I’m going into sixth grade this fall.”

To keep the conversation going, I said, “So you have two more years of school left!?”

(This is not Hanna Rose–photos of the Amish are not encouraged.)

Her smile faded just a little, and she looked a bit troubled. She sat the lemonade pitcher down, her smile brightened, and she held up one hand to count on her fingers. “Six, seven, eight,” she said. “That’s three years.” Her tone was patient and pleasant–I’m sure she considered how to correct me without making me feel bad.

Realizing my math error, I too smiled and replied, “You’re right!” Her smile broadened some.

“I think I should come to your school to learn how to do math better!”

Her smile broke into a grin as she picked up her pitcher to continue serving. I won’t claim that we developed a deep friendship, but we did manage to have several more conversations throughout the evening.

When we left, I wished her well in sixth grade. She replied that she was going to work really hard at learning. I somewhat regret not thanking her for reminding me of some important things.

Simple is good. While that’s something I love about the Amish in general, Hanna Rose shared a concrete example, and she did so graciously. She didn’t say, “Why are you making this so complicated–you’re getting it all wrong!” I later laughed at myself for my foolishness. And then I laughed at “us” who are not Amish because we often love making things harder in teaching. And we love big words.

Thankfully, I didn’t say, “Oh, Hanna Rose. I like how you have used your fingers for math manipulatives.”

The job of teaching should be to make things simple.

Hanna Rose also reminded me of a sign I’d seen a few years ago contrasting Amish Schools with Public Schools. One of the points was that Amish Schools value cooperation and humility above competition and pride. That’s not to say the Amish reject competition and pride–it’s to say that they understand balance. Hanna Rose’s hesitancy to “correct” my error suggests she thought hard about how to do so in a spirit of humility and without alienating me or making me feel bad.

I also later teased her, “I’m not leaving. I’m going to stay here and live with you forever and ever.” Her wide grin and lack of a reply told me she’s heard it before and realized it’s a compliment, not a threat.

And maybe not such a bad idea. I suspect I could learn a lot more from Hanna Rose and her family. Maybe we all could.

Watching “simple” go by at Hanna Rose’s Farm