It’s so much more than a game…
We need to listen to what Molly has to say. She packs a lot of truth into seven minutes–ironically, she was seven years old when she recorded this last year. She might be the youngest TED speaker ever. She’s definitely one of the best!
Don’t miss her quick demonstration on brain size. I was more correct than I knew when I titled “Small People — Big Brains.”
Seven years ago, Julia had the fine distinction of being the youngest and smallest driver in a special class of oxen pulling I watched. It was both entertaining and impressive. I snapped some photos and wrote an article in the hopes people would appreciate her skill and accomplishment.
Over the years since, I’ve always kept an eye out for her whenever I attend a pulling. So even though we only had one day to take in the Fryeburg Fair this year, much of it was spent sitting on the bleachers in the pulling barn and wandering through the barns where oxen were kept for viewing.
About halfway through Barn 15, I was a bit surprised to see that article and the photos I took laminated and stapled to a post near several teams. I scribbled a note on the back of a business card and tucked it into the article. “We are only here for the day… hope to bump into you!”
And we did—although our conversation took place leaning over the rail between the stands and “pit” between events. We met Grandpa Steve first—he assured us that Julia is, in fact, still driving oxen and horses. He pointed out that she’s still on the petite side, so when she arrives home from school, he must harness the horses for her, but then she’s off breaking trails in the winter and helping him with chores. She’s also managing fourteen beehives in her spare time.
Dad and Mom soon joined our conversation. That’s when I learned how that pull seven years ago changed the face of pulling at fairs by demonstrating that kids (youth—not necessarily preschoolers) could safely manage teams. I confess hearing that made me feel a bit smug because the conclusion of that article was “Never underestimate a kid.”
Maybe another truth is “never underestimate the power of words.” While it was Julia and not my words that changed pulling at fairs, I am proud and humbled that those words I wrote seven years ago had significant meaning to Julia’s family. And who knows how many others? A lot of people were at the Fryeburg Fair. I want to think a few stopped to read the article stapled to the post. Apparently, the family found meaning in those words, and I gather the words travel with them to fairs.
It is equally apparent that Julia is a kid who would be easy to underestimate. She has a lot going on for her in terms of enthusiasm and determination. That’s just as apparent as it was seven years ago. Like many kids, it’s easy to be surprised by their potential. We didn’t get to watch her pull—that wasn’t happening until later in the week–but we did enjoy watching her serve as hitcher for her grandfather. Her parents were only too happy to share some of her many accomplishments. Julia also has achieved a rite of passage—during a pull a while back, she and her team broke a yoke. That demonstration of power is an achievement for both the team and the teamster.
While discussing Julia’s beehives, her Dad noted that Julia considers anything her grandfather does as “good.” Based on the way he said it, I think it falls into the category of an “open secret”—something everyone knows but doesn’t acknowledge openly.
When Julia arrived during our conversation, she of course had no idea who I was. She also didn’t realize how important she’s become to me. So, if she reads this, she’ll now know an “open secret.” I think a lot of her and admire her greatly!
You see, I drove to Fryeburg as much out of necessity as want. There’s been too much talk and thought about some “new normal” that seems to be about uncertainty with an unhealthy dose of pessimism stirred in. I needed to “center” and experience something reassuring and optimistic. I needed to be reminded that some things are certain, including the energy and enthusiasm of the kids we tend to underestimate. We often lament the world that we are going to leave for them and, in so doing, forget they will likely be better at managing it than we have been. For that reminder, thanks, Julia.
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.
A small gaggle of middle school girls approached me somewhat shyly. They know whining isn’t allowed in my classroom but we weren’t at school, we were at the Guilford River Festival. I suspect they also would have claimed what they were doing was actually begging, not whining.
For those who don’t know, the Guilford River Festival is a truly awesome annual event that’s extremely family and kid-friendly. There’s lots of free stuff–my job was to hand out free balloons to kids–and fun stuff. The girls were offering a competition based on a game we sometimes play at school. “Are you smarter than a PCMS student?” They were having trouble getting contestants and begged me to visit their set up and play.
When I arrived, the girls and their game host immediately disappeared to “strategize,” triggering a certain amount of suspicion in my mind. Upon returning, they all had a noticeable “cat that swallowed the canary” look.
The game host explained the rules and process carefully and quickly. I think I heard him say that the game was “only slightly rigged.” I would be competing against the girls but I had the first chance to answer the questions. If I answered the question wrong, they could “take the point” by answering correctly, proving they were smarter.
The questions were of a historical nature and not too difficult but my suspicions were at an all-time high so I thought long and hard before answering. I could almost hear the clock ticking and the music playing. The first question required a date for an answer. When I answered, the game host declared “wrong!” and the girls went into a huddle. After some whispering, the shouted an answer in unison. “Billy Bob!”
“Correct!” Since the audience was small, the girls provided most of the applause.
The second question required a person’s name for an answer and I admitted I was tempted to answer “Billy Bob,” but went with what I was sure was correct. Again, my answer was declared wrong. Again after huddling the girls answered nonsensically and were declared correct.
I suppose some would have felt cheated but I found myself laughing and having fun. Maybe it wasn’t about the questions. Remember, the original question was “Are you smarter than a PCMS student?” It was becoming clear that I was not–they were outsmarting me.
The process continued with the girls winning all the points and me being skunked. It was at that point the game show host indicated I shouldn’t go away empty-handed and presented me with the pictured t-shirt. My response was genuine: “This is definitely worth losing for.”
I may be risking over-analysis but the experience left me not only laughing but also thinking. Winning and losing are words and people give meaning to words–it’s not the other way around. Sometimes we win when we lose. I’ll enjoy that shirt and the memory of losing to a gaggle of giggling girls who did, in fact, outsmart me. So thanks to the girls and Herrick Excavation for hosting and sponsoring the contest I won by losing.
The first time was about six years ago in my book . In Chapter 13 I touched on the occasions when the kids at school try to enlist me as judge and jury to settle a dispute. I offer one example and admit that my solution to it was based on “a bit of laziness and lack of desire to don a judge’s robe.”
Handing the case (problem or question) over to the judge can be alluring for many reasons and it’s not just the kids who do it. When I teach real estate courses I am often barraged with questions that start with “What if…?” With kids and adults, there are some obvious undercurrents. The kids’ questions are usually relative to what’s fair and sometimes are instructions. “Make her stop!” “He’s not playing fair!” The adults are looking for the right answer–usually to a subtle and sometimes legal question.
For at least as many years as the book’s been published, I have deflected many legal questions in real estate classes by including the observation, “If anyone finds a reasonably priced judge’s robe, buy it for me. I’ll reimburse you for it. Then I can slip it on when I’m asked these sort of questions and act all-knowing and certain while I pronounce my verdict.”
Well, it finally happened. At a recent Associate Broker Workshop a student showed up with a “surprise” for me, proudly presenting me with a black robe–and no expectation of reimbursement. I of course modeled it at the beginning of the workshop. It got a lot of laughs. It also reminded me of how thoughtful students often are. Most importantly, I now carry it in my “teaching kit” and plan to make it a visual aid.
See, I think acting as judge and teacher are actually often a conflict of interest. In a learning environment, when students give the teacher too much authority they may not think and all they really learn is the judge’s (teacher’s) opinion. I also have a rule in my adult classes that you’re not allowed to use the phrase “Walter said in class…” For one thing, I find I’m often misquoted. For another, you are suggesting you only learned what I said. I’d rather hear you say, “I learned in class…” I want to teach you to think, not quote the teacher.
The fact that things seem complicated or complex doesn’t mean we should let someone else do our thinking for us. I’m reasonably certain the world is round–or at least approximately so. But if a kid asks me I’m likely to reply with questions. “What do you think? How can we find out? What have you learned about that so far?”
While the power that goes with the judge’s robe is tempting, another thing I like about not wearing it is I can teach subjects I know almost nothing about. I once substituted for a second-year high school Spanish class. The kids knew me. As they were getting seated one called out, “Mr. Boomsma, do you even know Spanish?”
There was no hesitation when I answered, “No I do not. But I do know how to teach it. Let’s get started.”
So while I am profoundly grateful to Carole Scott Gartley of Brad Carter Real Estate for the robe and her thoughtfulness, I probably won’t be wearing it too much–just to get some laughs and make a point.
“You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go… “
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You’ll Go!