All posts by Walter

You can be a star!

Are you a happy alumni of a real estate course?

The Real Estate Learning Group is soliciting feedback about their courses and instructors–ideally from folks who would be willing to participate in a short video testimonial.

Thanks to technology and editing, we can even promise to make you look good and you’ll get final approval of the results.

If you’ve taken a course and loved it (and me!), let’s talk about it! We have several options ranging from recorded video and audio to written testimonials with a photo.

I know you’re busy with real estate transactions, so we’ll even mention your agency if that’s okay. Somebody once said, “There’s no such thing as bad publicity!”

If you can spare a few minutes and are interested, just let me know! We’ll make it easy and fun! Questions are welcomed!


“I have to give a huge shout out to our teacher Walter. He thoroughly knows his material and the way he explains things makes is much clearer than reading from a book alone. He went above and beyond to assist in areas I was struggling with and was extremely prompt on answering emails. He also was very encouraging. I am not sure I have had a more sincere, encouraging well informing teacher in my life.” 


My Special Honor

Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a good deal of respect and appreciation for the Amish. I have occasionally joked that I’m “going Amish,” because I think we can learn so much from them. I often write about them. But I can now announce that I’ve written for them.

I subscribe to several publications written and published by and for the Amish. One is the “Blackboard Bulletin,” by Pathway Publishers located in Ontario Canada. It’s primarily written by and for Amish teachers.

A recent issue raised a teacher’s dilemma with her young students. Apparently, her younger students were often driven to tears by what was described as her “curt” manner of speaking. (Understand that many, if not most, Amish teachers are working in what we might describe as a “one-room schoolhouse” including multiple grades through grade eight.) Teachers were invited to reply with their opinion—is this the way schools are nowadays?

Given the differences between Amish and non-Amish schools, I initially felt unqualified to offer my thoughts. But I soon found my fingers dancing on the keys, first explaining that I was not Amish and did not teach in an Amish School, but did have some thoughts.

Imagine my surprise when I found those thoughts published in the next issue! And the editors didn’t include my opening disclaimer, identifying me only as “Walter Boomsma from Maine.” Most contributors are only identified by their first name or as “a teacher.” I’m not sure if I’ve earned bragging rights, but I am honored. (Bragging rights would not be a consideration of the Amish—their beliefs and culture emphasize humility.)

Since the editors thought my contribution had value, I’ll include it for you.


My first observation is that love is a feeling; communication is a skill. It is entirely possible that the teacher described loves her students deeply. It is also likely she may lack some of the necessary skills to communicate that love. Since she admits there is a problem, I would suggest she share that problem with her students. There may well be an opportunity to “learn together.”

However, I include a second observation and a word of caution. Students – even at an early age- become very skilled at manipulating a situation to their advantage. I think of one young student who cried whenever she was redirected in any way. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, she would sniffle, “I love you, teacher.” I found it necessary to assure her that mistakes did not affect my love for her but I also did not allow her tears to make me hesitant to correct her. We had a shared challenge. Isabel had to learn to trust my love. I had to remind myself that correction and redirection are compatible with love.

I often recommend the book Teaching with Love and Logic by Jim Fay and David Funk. It is especially appropriate for newer teachers who often struggle with maintaining a balance in their classrooms. One example is learning not to say, “Be quiet!” Instead say, “I’ll begin when it’s quiet.” A vital premise underlying the concept is that we often need to teach our students responsibility. “Be quiet,” suggests the teacher must control the noise level in the classroom. “I’ll begin when it’s quiet,” encourages the students to share in managing the classroom environment.

Lastly, it interested me that the entire issue of Blackboard Bulletin included suggestions. Jamie’s Teacher in “The Definition of Discipline” said it well in the final paragraph. “No, I cannot reclaim a lost opportunity, but I can learn from it… Truly, the definition of godly discipline is love.”

You have been warned!

I’m near my breaking point. I think if I hear or read one more time “Out of an abundance of caution…” I’m going to scream.

Before you jump on me for being reckless, please note that I am only suggesting a minor change in wording. See if you can guess which word.

First, let’s talk about risk management–a somewhat forgotten concept when it comes to COVID-19 and the pandemic. It’s not a difficult concept. We do it almost instinctively and constantly. It’s a somewhat intuitive skill. For example, I will be going to the store later today. I’m quite certain that the trip will involve some hazards. A few come to mind. I could:

  • Have a car accident on the way to and from the store–most accidents occur close to home.
  • Slip and fall in the parking lot–it snowed yesterday and there will be snow and ice.
  • Have a piece of an aircraft engine fall from the sky and land on me–it happened recently somewhere.
  • Be shot by someone robbing the store–or suffer at the hand of someone who is angry over something.

So, come to think of it, maybe out of an abundance of caution I’ll just stay home. I haven’t yet factored in the risk of catching COVID-19 or some other disease. I did that intentionally to point out that we used to be reasonably skilled at risk management.

We knew that every decision we made and every action we took carried with it some degree of risk. So we drove carefully on the way to the store, knowing full well that an accident was still possible. We walked carefully through the ice and snow and realized that that the odds of a piece of an aircraft engine hitting us were fairly small. And maybe we trusted our instincts would keep us safe if we encountered violence.

That’s called “exercising appropriate caution.” I should perhaps add that we didn’t start “googling” and looking for data to see what the odds were of a car accident or falling on the ice. We trusted ourselves to make reasonably good decisions.

COVID-19 seems to have changed all that. Now we are making nearly all our decisions out of “an abundance of caution.”

When I hear that statement, I also hear the unspoken words, “If I act out of an abundance of caution, at least I won’t get blamed if something goes wrong.”

That’s an interesting perspective.

We can always reduce risk. But when we focus on reducing one risk, we will increase other risks. What happens if I don’t go to the store? At some point, we might do well to ask ourselves whether or not we are letting fear become the driving factor in our decisions. I recently heard someone bemoan that he hadn’t seen or hugged his grandchildren in a year. I wanted to ask, “Why?” but my own fear prevented it. I was afraid the answer would be “Out of an abundance of caution…” The abundance of caution is preventing consideration of how he might safely visit and hug his grandchildren.

An added concern is that it’s easy to get addicted to the safety of not taking risks. I’ve noticed it creeping in when I find myself writing and speaking more tentatively. At some purely academic level, it’s interesting. At a daily living level, it’s frightening.

Abundant caution is wasteful. One very practical example is that it creates the shortages we’ve experienced. An abundance of caution means you’d better have at least a two-year supply of toilet paper hidden in a closet somewhere. It’s a fear-driven decision. As I told the cashier who apologized when they ran out, “I’m fairly sure I can figure out some way to wipe my butt if we run out.” She laughed and agreed, “Now that I think I about it.”

Abundant caution also makes it easy to not do anything. Human beings were not built to “not do anything.” I genuinely appreciated a recent conversation with a good friend when he forced me to tell him what I am doing during these uncertain times.

So this is a plea for appropriate caution. In the midst of this pandemic, appropriate caution is necessary for each of us as individuals and for our communities. There’s room for some differences of opinion on what is appropriate, certainly, but we’ll connect and move forward when we understand and accept that some risk is necessary. Staying healthy is about a lot more than “not catching COVID-19.” What are you doing during these uncertain times?

Getting it right

Tomorrow morning, I will be proctoring an exam for a group of students who took a course I didn’t teach. The exam will follow the typical multiple-choice format. A leading stem is followed by four answer choices. Before starting the exam, we’ll spend a few minutes talking about some “test-taking tips.” One I will emphasize is to slow down and think about the stem of the question before even looking at the answer choices.

I already know that some students will do poorly on questions where “All of the above.” is the correct answer. Even if you aren’t taking an exam tomorrow, you should know why that’s true.

In the most basic terms, we want to be right. That’s not a bad thing and it’s understandable. But in our rush to be right, we subconsciously reject the idea that there are four correct answers to the question. There must be one correct answer.

We’ve trained ourselves to think that way because it’s easy and works most of the time. In pre-school we learned that “apples are red.” So if asked this question:

1. Apples are:
A. Red
B. Yellow
C. Green
D. All of the above

The instinctive answer, particularly when hurrying, is “A!” I’ve occasionally said that one thing harder than taking tests is writing tests. Let’s try changing the stem of the question:

1. Most apples are:
A. Red
B. Yellow
C. Green
D. Purple

If forced to guess, most will still answer “A!” but I’m not so sure that’s the correct answer, are you? Nearly all apples are green for at least some portion of their development. Would a better question be “Most apples are, at some point of their development:?”

Test-writing and test-taking aside, in our rush to be right we often fail to consider alternatives. Considering alternatives takes time and can be hard work. It also means we may need to let go of our favorite beliefs and recognize there could be acceptable alternatives. There may not be an absolutely correct answer but there’s probably a best answer.

If we truly want to reduce the divisiveness we are experiencing as a society, we need to abandon the test mentality and the belief there is only one right answer.

Or maybe we need to start asking different questions. For example, what color are most apples beneath the skin?

Happy New…?

My favorite quote from Anne of Green Gables expresses one of Anne’s important discoveries.

“Every day is a new day with no mistakes in it.”

Anne Shirley

If we are kindred spirits, dare we say the same of every year?

“Every year is a new year with no mistakes in it!”

Walter Boomsma

I suspect that some have already added “yet” to my version of the quote. Rationalizing that I’m a realist, I was tempted myself. After all, when we look ahead, we also tend to look backward too. As one year ends and another begins, media outlets will write “the year in review,” and some will sing “Auld Lange Syne,” perhaps without pausing to wonder who or what it means. (It’s Scottish in origin, suggesting “let’s drink to days gone by…,” certainly an appropriate toast for the beginning of a new year. )

Now I don’t mean to mix drinking and driving but I would call your attention to the fact that rearview mirrors are a lot smaller than windshields. That says something about perspective. Where should we focus?

Taken to another extreme, I’d offer another favorite quote–I heard it years ago in a presentation by Joel Weldon, a highly respected motivational speaker best known for his “Success Comes in Cans” presentations.

Jet pilots don’t use rearview mirrors.”

Joel Weldon

The truth is ultimately somewhere in both the past and the present. The world won’t magically change when the clock strikes twelve on New Year’s Eve. I’ve long ago given up waiting for that magical moment with party hats, noisemakers, champagne, off-key singing, hugging, and kissing.

Thanks to COVID-19, there definitely won’t be much hugging and kissing this year. I understand singing is also not recommended.

The challenge with using a rearview mirror is that it’s easy to fall into a “subtractive” mindset, romanticizing what was and what we miss. Almost without realizing it, we forget about the windshield. If you can stand another quote–this one not so famous–I’ll share the background first. It’s from an old television program. A distraught man was sharing his feelings with his therapist while pacing around the room. He happened to stop in front of the window.

“I just realized what my problem is… I’ve been looking in the mirror when I should have been looking out the window.”

Anonymous Mental Health Patient

So I’m not going to ask you about your resolutions–that’s looking out the windshield. I’m not going to ask you what was the best thing that happened to you–that’s looking in the rearview mirror. I won’t even wish you a happy new year.

I will ask you to do this. Remember that life is not just about where you’ve been or where you’re going. It’s not just about what’s happened to you or what’s going to happen to you. Life is about being and this year, with its uncertainties and unknowns, “being” is what life is about.

Celebrate that!