Lessons Learned
After having used a MacBook instead of my PC for the past three weeks, returning to the latter seems strangely foreign. And I'm pretty sure that, from lack of usage, several of my keys have gone "numb." I know no other way to concisely describe it--these keys are now much harder to press (it is taking an insane amount of effort to type all of the s's and periods hereby) than they have ever been. And I keep pressing the "ALT" button, thinking it's the "Command" one when really, I mean to go three keys over to "CTRL." When I first started using the Mac for work, I told myself that I would never lose sight of my Toshiba. But alas, my fingers have lost the familiarity. Still, my loyalty to and preference for PC remains (for now).
Prior to finally starting this, I was thinking up a storm--lighting, thunder, and all--of ideas, anecdotes, and jokes to share. You would have been delighted--because obviously, my posts could evoke nothing other than delight--to read all of it, too! But worry not. Delighted you still shall be. Perhaps enlightened, even--just perhaps.
Because I started working full-time (yes, a REAL job!), I could no longer tutor my students. I had a relatively hard time telling them "This will be our last week" and "This is our last session" because I had grown so attached to them, and felt connected with them! But to no surprise, none of them really expressed any sadness or anything... Maybe because they're boys. Yes, I'm going to say because they're boys. Actually, one of them did admit he was a bit sad, saying, "Because you're such a good teacher!" The others just kind of said, "Oh, okay." I suppose I expected them to view each last session as more momentous than just a regular session... Each "goodbye" was almost like a breakup to me! And even though it's been a while and school is coming or has come to an end for all of them, I still think about them and wonder how they're doing, hoping that they're keeping up the progress that they've made.
I texted my Spanish student's mother the other day to check in on his progress in the class. She replied by telling me he had scored a high B on a make-up test (which he originally received a low C or D on), and scored an A on his oral presentation, resulting in a solid B for the class. And the entire time I was tutoring him, I thought that he hadn't listened or paid attention--or cared at all. But it turns out I was wrong, and I'm darn glad of that. I'm so proud of him, and so proud of the other students. It's incredibly rewarding to see results happen, and even more so when they and/ or their mothers acknowledge you for it. (Yes, my ego is definitely coming into play here...)
Although I was the one doing the teaching/ mentoring/ advising as the tutor, I learned one hugely important lesson myself, too. In some ways, this lesson surpasses any that I have given and many that could be given. Through working with these kids and their mothers, I realized at one point--it was an epiphany, really--why my mother is so crazy! Sorry, let me rephrase... I realized why mothers do the things they do. I used to think my own mother (sorry, Mom) was just crazy for making my sister and me do this and that, yelling at us, and so forth. But everything that they do truly is in their children's best interests. They truly just want the best for us, whether that means paying somebody big bucks (not that I got big bucks, sadly) to facilitate time to do homework or signing us up for random after-school and weekend classes. They want us to get into good colleges so that we can do better; they want us to be healthy so that we can be better; they want to help us succeed. Sometimes, their approaches may not be the most tasteful or fun, but often, they really do know best. In elementary and middle schools, my mom always chastised me with, "You'll see one day that I'm right." I never believed it, because how would she know, and how could she know everything? Halfway through high school, I was horrified! As more oncoming growing-up matters ensued, I realized slowly but surely that she was right about one thing after another... Come freshman year of college, I just surrendered and told her, "Remember when you said you'd be right about everything? I guess you are." And of course, that led to nothing less than a victorious, "I told you so!"
Oops, it seems I digressed slightly. But I realized, after having learned the above lesson, that I've been too unappreciative of my mother. There are still many cultural and generational differences that she hasn't accepted or actualized yet, and maybe never will, but she tries so hard. And I don't say that in the condescending "You try too hard. Just stop trying" way at all. I say it with admiration. Despite our attitudes and tempers, she continues to try to appeal to and appease my sister and me. As absolutely taken aback as I was by the fact that she packed a VEGETABLE and two loaves of bread in my bag for our trip to Hawaii, it later occurred to me that she just wanted to cook for us if we didn't feel like eating out, and I came to appreciate that. Still, it was crazy--I still cannot believe she packed a VEGETABLE! And rice... And Spam... And sardines... But ya know. We ended up having to binge-eat everything the day we were due to fly home because we ran out of space because she went crazy on the souvenir-buying. For which I also thought she was crazy. But after haranguing her for going nuts (literally--they bought boxes and boxes of macadamia), my attitude softened considerably, because through all of that ridiculous spending, I saw her generosity. It isn't like she has a bank full of cash to spend, but she has an enormous heart (not literally, because that would be a dangerous condition) that leads her to buy tons of things not for herself and not even necessarily for us, but for OTHERS. Maybe that's why they're called mothers? Mom + others = mothers? Yes, I think so.
And I know I'm not any of your guys' tutor or anything, but if you take away nothing else from this post, take this: appreciate your mother! I'm far from doing it right myself, but I'm going to devote more time and effort toward it. As well as toward my father and sister, and family in general, because family really is important. I wish I had known that and used time to appreciate that instead of throwing my attitude all over the place when I was younger.
Another thing I really appreciate about my mother is that even though she strongly opposed getting a dog for our home, she has come to really care for Avery, and I've even come to believe that she has become her primary caretaker. It took a while for our German Shepherd sweetheart to warm up to my mother--especially since every time Avery was let into the house, she would just take a lap around the living room and proceed to find a random spot to declaratively pee on--but now she voluntarily bathes her! Yesterday when I came downstairs, she and my dad were washing her together, and it was really one of the sweetest and best images I have seen in a while, even considering the fantastic scenery and landscapes in Hawaii last week.
Speaking of Hawaii--it was spectacular. I think it seems every time someone asks and I reply like that, my voice probably sounds flat and disinterested. But it really was and probably still is spectacular. Even though we didn't go to the more remote Maui or wherever else, Oahu was still pleasantly enjoyable. The first evening that we went to Waikiki Beach down the street, I exclaimed as I stepped into the water, "Wow, I can see the sand under the water!" The natives nearby must have thought, "What is she talking about? You can always see the sand." And with my weird jokes and nonstop laughter following that, they must have thought I was crazy. Anyway... the food wasn't as good as I would have liked, though we did have fresh-made udon for dinner one night, which reminded me of all the Chinese la-mien (pulled noodles) carts I saw in Shanghai way back when. I also tried snorkeling, which was a true struggle. I've had two true struggles lately--this being one, and Sunday's half marathon being the other--and I'm not sure which outweighs the other. Granted, I still can't swim, which probably explains the struggle that accompanied snorkeling. I tried, I really did! But believe me--there was something defective with the snorkel mask to begin with, because there's no way I'm that good at sucking in water through my nose through a mask. It was still cool while it lasted, because I saw fish in their natural habitat (instead of on a plate)! After I gave up, I just laid there and tanned like the noob that I am. Another highlight is papaya. Yes, papaya. I've always liked Hawaiian papaya, and it hadn't occurred to me until day 3 out of 5 that I should try Hawaiian papaya straight from Hawaii... Believe it or not, my biggest regret about Hawaii is not having eaten enough papaya from the fruit bar of the $17 (without bottomless mimosas?!) breakfast buffet a few of us went to one morning. Aside from that, the pineapple is rather delicious, too. I am pleased to announce--not that you care, though, I presume--that I am NOT allergic to pineapple! (Background: I spent years avoiding pineapple and anything pineapple-flavored because I used to itch slightly after eating the smallest chunk of pineapple, so the fruit just became a complete turn-off.)
The whole pineapple situation actually is more significant than it seems. It reminds me of the one night that I suddenly and decisively told myself that I would no longer be afraid of dogs--and then just picked up Snowflake (my cousins' chihuahua). It was a victorious night, and I still consider it a victorious moment, because it was one in which I consciously and purposefully overcame a fear. The pineapple moment is another one of those.
Another inspiring (I deem it so, anyway) experience occurred the other day. While I was in line for the Porta-Potties (not sure if that's correctly spelled, hyphenated, or even capitalized, but probably not worth looking into at 1:39 a.m.) at the crack of dawn on Sunday (Rock n Rock Half Marathon in SD), I anxiously looked around the throng of runners, hoping to find somebody who looked like they could help me with my kinesiology tape. I had bought a roll the evening before, and knew that I had taped it on my knee wrong because the pain still bothered me. So I figured I'd, last-minute, just ask somebody to tell or show me how to do it right. After a few seconds of perusal, I noticed a woman and a man sitting on the open grass between lines; she was taping him up in what appeared to be an expert fashion. So I waited until he got up before I headed over and meekly said, "Excuse me? I have this same tape that I bought yesterday, and am not sure how to use it. Would you mind showing me?" The nice woman, bless her soul, actually just told me to sit down and wait for her to finish wrapping herself up so that she could just do it FOR me. Immediately, I expressed my gratitude. Throughout the process, she explained some tips and tricks of the tape and told me that she knows all about knee problems since she herself has had two knee surgeries. I saw her a few more times after she wrapped me up, and thanked her every time. It may have been annoying, but I just appreciated it so much! She actually took the time, half an hour prior to race time, to tape up BOTH knees of a complete stranger.
I was still doubtful that the tape would work, but decided to have faith anyway--paradoxical, I know. So I threw my knee brace back into my bag to check in, and just told myself that if she and others could use just the tape and be okay, I should be okay, too. I had started race morning by telling JH, "I'll just stay here (on the shuttle from parking to start line) and take a nice nap," because I was 80 percent sure that I would not be able to complete the 13.1 miles that day. But I am now confident that I was able to complete it--in just under 2.5 hours--largely because the nice woman helped me out. Until mile 7 of the race, I didn't even need to walk! When I hit mile 11, I remembered something that I had read at work recently: "Give generously. Receive gratefully." And I've been trying to do just that, especially since MC told me a while back that I wasn't very good at showing appreciation. I'm now making a conscious effort to tell people that I appreciate the things they do, big or small, because they should know. It isn't that they absolutely need to know, but if you show your appreciation and acknowledge their efforts, they're more likely to feel better about not just their work, but also about your relationship. Even though I probably will never see that woman again--and honestly, I don't even remember what she looks like--I'm going to remember those few minutes for a long time, because she demonstrated to me the generosity that people are willing to give, especially if you just ask. Which is another lesson I've learned lately--if you really want or need something, it's worth asking somebody. Everybody wants and needs things all the time, and surely, we can't always have or attain all of them, but many people are willing to help and accommodate. I think even if you can't "give generously," you should "give what you can." Do what you can for others; they'll do what they can for you. Even if it isn't evenly reciprocal, so what? Many of us receive a significant amount of just... well, good, in our lives that we really should make the conscious effort to give what we can, when we can, too. I'm starting to see more and more that this is one way to live more rewarding days and lead a more rewarding life.
Anyway... I was going to insert pictures into this post just to make it seem less wordy, but if a picture is worth a thousand words, then this post might as well become a research article.
(Yes, that is my half-joke, half-excuse for not posting my fantastic Hawaii and Avery pictures. Also, it's rather late. Pictures to come next time.)
Next time being July 2016:
Prior to finally starting this, I was thinking up a storm--lighting, thunder, and all--of ideas, anecdotes, and jokes to share. You would have been delighted--because obviously, my posts could evoke nothing other than delight--to read all of it, too! But worry not. Delighted you still shall be. Perhaps enlightened, even--just perhaps.
Because I started working full-time (yes, a REAL job!), I could no longer tutor my students. I had a relatively hard time telling them "This will be our last week" and "This is our last session" because I had grown so attached to them, and felt connected with them! But to no surprise, none of them really expressed any sadness or anything... Maybe because they're boys. Yes, I'm going to say because they're boys. Actually, one of them did admit he was a bit sad, saying, "Because you're such a good teacher!" The others just kind of said, "Oh, okay." I suppose I expected them to view each last session as more momentous than just a regular session... Each "goodbye" was almost like a breakup to me! And even though it's been a while and school is coming or has come to an end for all of them, I still think about them and wonder how they're doing, hoping that they're keeping up the progress that they've made.
I texted my Spanish student's mother the other day to check in on his progress in the class. She replied by telling me he had scored a high B on a make-up test (which he originally received a low C or D on), and scored an A on his oral presentation, resulting in a solid B for the class. And the entire time I was tutoring him, I thought that he hadn't listened or paid attention--or cared at all. But it turns out I was wrong, and I'm darn glad of that. I'm so proud of him, and so proud of the other students. It's incredibly rewarding to see results happen, and even more so when they and/ or their mothers acknowledge you for it. (Yes, my ego is definitely coming into play here...)
Although I was the one doing the teaching/ mentoring/ advising as the tutor, I learned one hugely important lesson myself, too. In some ways, this lesson surpasses any that I have given and many that could be given. Through working with these kids and their mothers, I realized at one point--it was an epiphany, really--why my mother is so crazy! Sorry, let me rephrase... I realized why mothers do the things they do. I used to think my own mother (sorry, Mom) was just crazy for making my sister and me do this and that, yelling at us, and so forth. But everything that they do truly is in their children's best interests. They truly just want the best for us, whether that means paying somebody big bucks (not that I got big bucks, sadly) to facilitate time to do homework or signing us up for random after-school and weekend classes. They want us to get into good colleges so that we can do better; they want us to be healthy so that we can be better; they want to help us succeed. Sometimes, their approaches may not be the most tasteful or fun, but often, they really do know best. In elementary and middle schools, my mom always chastised me with, "You'll see one day that I'm right." I never believed it, because how would she know, and how could she know everything? Halfway through high school, I was horrified! As more oncoming growing-up matters ensued, I realized slowly but surely that she was right about one thing after another... Come freshman year of college, I just surrendered and told her, "Remember when you said you'd be right about everything? I guess you are." And of course, that led to nothing less than a victorious, "I told you so!"
Oops, it seems I digressed slightly. But I realized, after having learned the above lesson, that I've been too unappreciative of my mother. There are still many cultural and generational differences that she hasn't accepted or actualized yet, and maybe never will, but she tries so hard. And I don't say that in the condescending "You try too hard. Just stop trying" way at all. I say it with admiration. Despite our attitudes and tempers, she continues to try to appeal to and appease my sister and me. As absolutely taken aback as I was by the fact that she packed a VEGETABLE and two loaves of bread in my bag for our trip to Hawaii, it later occurred to me that she just wanted to cook for us if we didn't feel like eating out, and I came to appreciate that. Still, it was crazy--I still cannot believe she packed a VEGETABLE! And rice... And Spam... And sardines... But ya know. We ended up having to binge-eat everything the day we were due to fly home because we ran out of space because she went crazy on the souvenir-buying. For which I also thought she was crazy. But after haranguing her for going nuts (literally--they bought boxes and boxes of macadamia), my attitude softened considerably, because through all of that ridiculous spending, I saw her generosity. It isn't like she has a bank full of cash to spend, but she has an enormous heart (not literally, because that would be a dangerous condition) that leads her to buy tons of things not for herself and not even necessarily for us, but for OTHERS. Maybe that's why they're called mothers? Mom + others = mothers? Yes, I think so.
And I know I'm not any of your guys' tutor or anything, but if you take away nothing else from this post, take this: appreciate your mother! I'm far from doing it right myself, but I'm going to devote more time and effort toward it. As well as toward my father and sister, and family in general, because family really is important. I wish I had known that and used time to appreciate that instead of throwing my attitude all over the place when I was younger.
Another thing I really appreciate about my mother is that even though she strongly opposed getting a dog for our home, she has come to really care for Avery, and I've even come to believe that she has become her primary caretaker. It took a while for our German Shepherd sweetheart to warm up to my mother--especially since every time Avery was let into the house, she would just take a lap around the living room and proceed to find a random spot to declaratively pee on--but now she voluntarily bathes her! Yesterday when I came downstairs, she and my dad were washing her together, and it was really one of the sweetest and best images I have seen in a while, even considering the fantastic scenery and landscapes in Hawaii last week.
Speaking of Hawaii--it was spectacular. I think it seems every time someone asks and I reply like that, my voice probably sounds flat and disinterested. But it really was and probably still is spectacular. Even though we didn't go to the more remote Maui or wherever else, Oahu was still pleasantly enjoyable. The first evening that we went to Waikiki Beach down the street, I exclaimed as I stepped into the water, "Wow, I can see the sand under the water!" The natives nearby must have thought, "What is she talking about? You can always see the sand." And with my weird jokes and nonstop laughter following that, they must have thought I was crazy. Anyway... the food wasn't as good as I would have liked, though we did have fresh-made udon for dinner one night, which reminded me of all the Chinese la-mien (pulled noodles) carts I saw in Shanghai way back when. I also tried snorkeling, which was a true struggle. I've had two true struggles lately--this being one, and Sunday's half marathon being the other--and I'm not sure which outweighs the other. Granted, I still can't swim, which probably explains the struggle that accompanied snorkeling. I tried, I really did! But believe me--there was something defective with the snorkel mask to begin with, because there's no way I'm that good at sucking in water through my nose through a mask. It was still cool while it lasted, because I saw fish in their natural habitat (instead of on a plate)! After I gave up, I just laid there and tanned like the noob that I am. Another highlight is papaya. Yes, papaya. I've always liked Hawaiian papaya, and it hadn't occurred to me until day 3 out of 5 that I should try Hawaiian papaya straight from Hawaii... Believe it or not, my biggest regret about Hawaii is not having eaten enough papaya from the fruit bar of the $17 (without bottomless mimosas?!) breakfast buffet a few of us went to one morning. Aside from that, the pineapple is rather delicious, too. I am pleased to announce--not that you care, though, I presume--that I am NOT allergic to pineapple! (Background: I spent years avoiding pineapple and anything pineapple-flavored because I used to itch slightly after eating the smallest chunk of pineapple, so the fruit just became a complete turn-off.)
The whole pineapple situation actually is more significant than it seems. It reminds me of the one night that I suddenly and decisively told myself that I would no longer be afraid of dogs--and then just picked up Snowflake (my cousins' chihuahua). It was a victorious night, and I still consider it a victorious moment, because it was one in which I consciously and purposefully overcame a fear. The pineapple moment is another one of those.
Another inspiring (I deem it so, anyway) experience occurred the other day. While I was in line for the Porta-Potties (not sure if that's correctly spelled, hyphenated, or even capitalized, but probably not worth looking into at 1:39 a.m.) at the crack of dawn on Sunday (Rock n Rock Half Marathon in SD), I anxiously looked around the throng of runners, hoping to find somebody who looked like they could help me with my kinesiology tape. I had bought a roll the evening before, and knew that I had taped it on my knee wrong because the pain still bothered me. So I figured I'd, last-minute, just ask somebody to tell or show me how to do it right. After a few seconds of perusal, I noticed a woman and a man sitting on the open grass between lines; she was taping him up in what appeared to be an expert fashion. So I waited until he got up before I headed over and meekly said, "Excuse me? I have this same tape that I bought yesterday, and am not sure how to use it. Would you mind showing me?" The nice woman, bless her soul, actually just told me to sit down and wait for her to finish wrapping herself up so that she could just do it FOR me. Immediately, I expressed my gratitude. Throughout the process, she explained some tips and tricks of the tape and told me that she knows all about knee problems since she herself has had two knee surgeries. I saw her a few more times after she wrapped me up, and thanked her every time. It may have been annoying, but I just appreciated it so much! She actually took the time, half an hour prior to race time, to tape up BOTH knees of a complete stranger.
I was still doubtful that the tape would work, but decided to have faith anyway--paradoxical, I know. So I threw my knee brace back into my bag to check in, and just told myself that if she and others could use just the tape and be okay, I should be okay, too. I had started race morning by telling JH, "I'll just stay here (on the shuttle from parking to start line) and take a nice nap," because I was 80 percent sure that I would not be able to complete the 13.1 miles that day. But I am now confident that I was able to complete it--in just under 2.5 hours--largely because the nice woman helped me out. Until mile 7 of the race, I didn't even need to walk! When I hit mile 11, I remembered something that I had read at work recently: "Give generously. Receive gratefully." And I've been trying to do just that, especially since MC told me a while back that I wasn't very good at showing appreciation. I'm now making a conscious effort to tell people that I appreciate the things they do, big or small, because they should know. It isn't that they absolutely need to know, but if you show your appreciation and acknowledge their efforts, they're more likely to feel better about not just their work, but also about your relationship. Even though I probably will never see that woman again--and honestly, I don't even remember what she looks like--I'm going to remember those few minutes for a long time, because she demonstrated to me the generosity that people are willing to give, especially if you just ask. Which is another lesson I've learned lately--if you really want or need something, it's worth asking somebody. Everybody wants and needs things all the time, and surely, we can't always have or attain all of them, but many people are willing to help and accommodate. I think even if you can't "give generously," you should "give what you can." Do what you can for others; they'll do what they can for you. Even if it isn't evenly reciprocal, so what? Many of us receive a significant amount of just... well, good, in our lives that we really should make the conscious effort to give what we can, when we can, too. I'm starting to see more and more that this is one way to live more rewarding days and lead a more rewarding life.
Anyway... I was going to insert pictures into this post just to make it seem less wordy, but if a picture is worth a thousand words, then this post might as well become a research article.
(Yes, that is my half-joke, half-excuse for not posting my fantastic Hawaii and Avery pictures. Also, it's rather late. Pictures to come next time.)
Next time being July 2016:
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