Essay # 10 – In-Class Any Essay

Essay # 10 – In-Class Any Essay

Dirt

Dirt is everywhere!!  Here it is, springtime again, and the dirt spreads, magically extending its hidden tentacles to creep silently beneath my closed door, through the living room, and into every corner of the house.  Or so it seems…  How does all that dirt appear out of nowhere?  Is it really magic?  Or do alien beings watch my every move, wait until no one is home, then sneak in and sprinkle some sort of extraterrestrial dirt-dust all around my house?  (If so, I wonder if it has some sort of special properties.  Maybe I should try starting one of my garden plants in some of it as an experiment.)  But, for some reason, these unusual explanations seem too irrational to accept without some scientific testing.  So where does all this dirt come from?  Hmmm…..

As I said, it’s springtime, which here in Maine is synonymous with “Mud Season.”  Now, there may actually be a logical reason for such absurd terminology.  It could possibly be that someone, maybe from out-of-state, came driving here one fine spring day, maybe even having purchased some land from one of those realty ads, which was so unbelievably cheap, he couldn’t pass up such a good deal.  As this poor tourist-turned- property-owner traveled to his destination, roads changed from well-maintained interstate highways to reasonably-well-maintained state roads to minimally- maintained county roads to somewhat-maintained town roads to barely-maintained back roads to the inevitable unmaintained dirt roads, which in the springtime seem more akin to higher level swamps than “roads.”  As this poor wanderer continued on his journey toward his prize, he must have started to wonder what indeed he had gotten into.  Possibly he eventually reached his destination, turned into his driveway and sank up to the axle in that special mud, much like quicksand, which seeps out as the ground thaws when winter gasps its last breath and seeks one last vain attempt at vengeance before giving up the fight.  As the days turned into weeks and he struggled to keep his vehicle from being sucked in by more liquid road or from being devoured by ruts and potholes, while the local yokels cheerfully greeted each other with acclaims that “it’s finally springtime in Maine!”  He probably finally grumbled in reply something like, “Where I come from we have 4 real seasons: winter, summer, spring, and fall.  This season isn’t spring, it’s mud, nothing but mud…”  To which the stoic Mainers proudly replied, “You’re darn right!  We have our very own season here, Mud Season.  I knew we were special!”  This story may be a little far-fetched, but I’ve never heard a better one, so who knows?  Maybe it’s true…

So that’s our first explanation of where all that dirt in our homes comes from: the great outdoors.  But how does it all get inside?  This part is actually pretty easy to explain without magic or aliens, though no way near as exciting a hypothesis.  It seems my house is inhabited by dirt-tracking varmints, who choose to ignore a series of outdoor mats and rugs leading to the front door.  Some can be reasonably excused.  They have 4 feet apiece and don’t seem to have the agility to carefully wipe each individual paw before entering my domain.  In fact, they dispute the fact that it is my domain, mistakenly believing it to be their own, and they don’t mind the dirt at all.  In fact, it may even bring a little sense of comfort as the dirt increases to make it feel more like the great outdoors while indoors.  Those 4-footed family members include 2 dogs and 4 cats, who regularly go in and out all – day – long.  The quadrupeds may have an excuse, but the bipeds in the family do not.  While I do my best to enter my abode without the adornments of additional mineral matter adhering to my shoes, others in the family seem oblivious to their hitchhikers, allowing dirt free access to our private quarters.  Though I’ve done my motherly and wifely duty to alert the other family members to the impending avalanche of earth that will one day bury our family alive, never to be seen again, they somehow don’t believe in the scientific truth of that prediction.  And so, dirt continues to win the war.  I shovel it up; others bring more in.  As long as there is springtime and Mud Season in Maine, it is a fruitless task; and I wonder if it is truly insanity to continue doing the same thing while expecting different results.  And if it is, I’m in big trouble…

We’ve now discussed the dirt of Mud Season and how the dirt from outside gets inside, but do we ever purposefully bring in dirt?  Alas, the answer unfortunately is, “Yes.”  We Mainers are gluttons for punishment.  Not only do we choose to live in a place that seeks to envelop us and our vehicles each springtime, we also seem to cheerfully choose the absolute messiest manner of maintaining comfort in our own homes – wood heat.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love wood heat!  The price is right – free; and the luxury of spinning like a rotisserie chicken in front of a rip-roaring fire while the heat soaks in to the marrow of every bone is comfort to the extreme.  But every luxury demands its price, and wood heat brings with it not only the sawdust remaining from each chainsaw cut and endless chips of bark, but also the ash that floats into the air every time the door is opened (especially if you’re mentally challenged or leaning toward cognitive decline and keep forgetting to open the top damper!)  This byproduct of wood heat floats through every room eventually filtering down to leave its inevitable calling card.  So not only do we “accidentally” add to the dirt load in our homes, we also “purposefully” do the same thing.  (I’m beginning to lean toward that insanity theory.  Do you agree?)

So, that’s the story of dirt in Maine: Mud Season, foot traffic, and wood heat.  We’ve learned to live with it, and we don’t seem able to live without it, no matter how much we grumble and complain.  But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.  They’re now saying that the present trend toward spotless living is creating tendencies toward allergies, and that dirt “immunizes” children from future hypersensitivities.  So maybe that’s what I’ll tell my next set of visitors when I see that look of amazement followed by repulsion as they enter in my doorway one fine Mud Season morning.  I’m looking after the well-being of my family.  And if they like, they can do their own families a favor and scoop some up to bring some home with them, too.  After all, we Mainers like to share the bounty, and there’s plenty for everyone.

Essay # 9 – In-Class Process Essay - Tools

Essay # 9 – In-Class Process Essay

Tools

I love tools!  Gardening tools and carpentry tools especially.  My gardening tools I’ve had for years, and each has become almost a part of my physical body when I choose just the right one for my gardening task, but it’s only been a few years since I learned the enjoyment of carpentry, and, oh, there are so many wonderful tools still to explore!  Having already settled on the perfect gardening tools, how do I now fulfill my carpentry tool need?  I’ve come to realize that tool acquisition entails 3 factors: need, knowledge, and purchase (not necessarily in that order…)

Generally, as you’re working on that big project, the point comes when things aren’t working as planned.  That can mean different things to different people and even to the same person at different times.  A case in point was when I was struggling to hold up and hammer on a trim board destined to hang above my son’s long closet doorway.  Right in the midst of that particular project, while I was going into contortions trying to get that first darn nail hammered into the right spot, so the board would end up level and centered; I got a phone call;  good excuse to take a break and rethink this project.  It happened to be a carpenter I knew who asked why I was huffing and puffing.  When I explained what I was trying to do, he just laughed and said, “That’s what air guns are for.  Pop!  It’s in place.”  Now, I wasn’t going to stop my project, jump into the car and buy the nearest air gun, but the seed had been planted in my brain.  I had 7 more closets to do, eventually, never mind the doorways and window trims.  That sure would be handy…  A need had been determined, and in this case the knowledge of just what I needed had been decided.

Other times, you know the need, and you have to search for the solution.  Books are usually my first line of defense when I lack the knowledge of what’s available and am actually looking for an answer.  I’m a book-lover, as well as a tool-lover, though most of my books could actually count as tools.  They are generally how-to and reference books, since I taught myself most of what I know.  In those books are often solutions to problems.  (Did you know there is a nifty little “siding tool” to zip along vinyl siding to both unlock and lock a piece when it needs to be put on or replaced?)  The internet is another source of information that can easily be accessed from home, and which I use regularly.  Then there are stores.  Hardware stores, whether they’re the local mom-and-pop type or the bigger box-type, have knowledgeable people available to tell you not only what you need, but how to use it.  Then, being curious and always on the lookout for interesting ways of doing things, I sometimes find solutions before I even have a problem!  I remember watching my son’s scoutmaster using a sliding miter saw for a project they were working on.  Nifty!  I didn’t need one then, but later, when I began my own journey into carpentry I remembered that tool and its uses, and eventually got one of my own.

So, the need has been determined, the solution has been decided.  Now, it’s time to make that purchase!  This can be the tricky part, unless you’re rich and can just go out and buy anything you want whenever you want to.  (And if so, can we become friends?  I’m sure we’ve got a lot in common…)  I’ve acquired my own tools in many ways, always trying to get a good deal, doing without until the optimal moment appears.  The absolute cheapest way to acquire tools is to get them for free, which though not common, can happen.  I’ve gotten some tools given to me, and gotten some tools from our old dump’s Bargain Barn, where people left usable stuff they didn’t need, and took home usable stuff they did need.  Those are usually small hand tools, but those are also the ones that get used the most.  The next best place is yard sales.  Yard sales contain treasures waiting to be found.  But, as with any treasure-hunting, it can eat up the hours.  Plus, it requires just the right combination of luck and timing or you can waste days that are needed for other projects. (Yet, that is how I eventually got an almost new framing air gun for $10, so that can be used to argue the point.)  Of course, regular sale-shopping is always an option, keeping an eye on the papers to see if that particular item you’ve been looking for finally goes down to the price you’re willing or able to pay.  The Day after Thanksgiving Sale has become my personal annual gift-to-myself sale.  I usually splurge and buy something I’ve really been wanting, but haven’t found used.  Sears and Home Depot often have terrific discounts early in the day, and thankfully, here in Maine we don’t have the ridiculous stampedes they have in more populated areas like New York City.  That’s where I got a set of 4 air guns with compressor for about the price of one, and where I bought that coveted sliding miter saw that I now use regularly. 

So, that’s how I’ve been working on my tool collection – determining the need, finding a solution, and making the acquisition, but not always in that order.  Some tools are just so cheap (especially if free) they can’t be left there all alone; you’ve just got to give them a good home.  Then later the immense usefulness of that prize is discovered, when finally just the right project needing just the right tool becomes the project for the day.  My own tool collection is nowhere near complete.  And I really should stay away from places like Home Depot where my mouth drools as I see almost endless possibilities for more projects needing more tools.  So maybe it’s a good thing my wallet is small, or else I’d have to add another addition onto my house …

Essay # 8 - Effect Essay - Homeschooling

Essay # 8 - Effect Essay

Homeschooling

The homeschooling movement has taken our public schools by surprise.  Instead of quietly dying out or falling apart, with public schools picking up the pieces of broken educational dreams, it has steadily pushed forward, going against the tide of modern educational philosophy,  forcing public schools to adapt to this new trend in learning.  Having homeschooled all four of my children through high school, with two already graduated from college and two now attending college, I can see many advantages of homeschooling. But, before beginning, I want it in the records that I do not believe homeschooling is the ONLY way, nor is it the RIGHT way for everyone.  It is just ONE way, which has many beneficial results, among which are the positive effects it has on education, socialization, and family life.

Education is the most obvious reason many people choose to home school, and education is also the easiest effect to measure.  As more and more homeschooled children are entering into and succeeding in college, universities have become aware of the educational excellence of these children.  Many colleges are actively seeking homeschoolers for their student enrollment. This is a strange phenomenon, considering that many parents, including myself, have never finished college themselves.  I remember going to a home school conference when my oldest was perhaps a junior in high school.  One of the speakers was a university admissions counselor.  She explained that one reason why homeschoolers do so well in college is that in public school, 70% of the schooling is taught in the classroom and 30% is learned by the student at home, whereas in college, 30% is teaching and 70% is self-learning.  Home school moms are too busy to spend a large amount of time teaching, so home school kids learn at an early age to work on their own, which in this case has a positive outcome. 

Another benefit of homeschooling is socialization.  This may sound strange because those opposed to homeschooling often cite this as a negative attribute.  For me, this was my original reason for wanting to home school.  In fact, I wanted to home school before I even knew it had been invented.  I had my own memories of how mean kids can be to each other, and how attending school tends to divide kids by age, grade, ability, and sex.  Homeschooled kids, on the other hand, grow up without being bullied or being made fun of, and without negative peer pressure.  Instead, in general, they grow up with a healthy sense of self-esteem, and with the ability to relate to people of all ages, sexes, and aptitudes.  I remember going to a dog show with my oldest daughter.  We stopped to talk to one of the handlers who then asked if she was homeschooled.  This caught us by surprise, since dogs had been the topic of conversation, not schooling.  She commented that my daughter was comfortable talking to adults, which is common among homeschoolers, though unusual in the average traditionally-schooled children.  In fact, in any home school gathering, children can be seen participating in activities spanning the entire spectrum of social opportunities and having fun doing so, an ability that will be a benefit throughout life.

The final effect, a strong family life, is maybe the most important result of schooling at home.  Instead of children spending most of their waking hours away from the home, growing apart from the nuclear unit, they spend time within the family, forming strong bonds of work, play, and friendship. They learn valuable lessons on morality, work ethics, and faith.  Since the family is in control of the child’s education, parents can choose to allow time off from school for important holidays, such as birthdays, or they can choose to go on extended field trips to exotic countries like Australia, on shorter trips to other parts of the US like Washington DC, or on mini-field trips to see the hidden insides of the local bank or dentist’s office.  Schooling is in the hand of the parents, who usually try to instill a love of learning in their children, knowing that if they succeed, it will open endless doorways for the future.  In our family, homeschooling gave us the opportunity to take care of my mom in NY for 6 weeks while my dad was recovering from heart surgery, something that would have been more difficult if not impossible if my children had been going to traditional schools.  And I for one have thoroughly enjoyed the excuse of homeschooling as a reason for visiting innumerable historical and educational sights and museums with my kids.  We have worked together, played together, prayed together, and stayed together, something that has become rare in today’s society.

For our family, homeschooling was a good choice.  It provided my children with a good educational foundation, the ability to relate to people of all ages, abilities, and backgrounds, and a strong sense of family.  It makes me glad to see how happy and well-adjusted they have become.  And I am pleased to know that at least some, if not all, of my children plan to continue this new tradition of homeschooling in their own families in the future.

Essay #7 - Process Essay - Becoming a Black Belt

Essay #7 - Process Essay

Becoming a Black Belt

Walking down the streets of Harlem, in the early hours of morning.  Groups of black men watching as I meandered through the streets on the first day of class at City College of New York, trying to find my way to my new school.  A police car gracious enough to follow next to me during the most heart-pounding section of my wanderings eased my fears.  This is just one situation that produced in me a desire for safety, a desire to be able to protect myself in any situation.  Ironically, it was only after moving to the peaceful countryside of Maine that I had the opportunity to study martial arts.  I was no longer in an urban environment, but I had brought some of my fears with me from New York, and I jumped at the chance to learn Tae Kwon Do.  Little did I know then what would be involved in the process of becoming a black belt – learning a new martial arts language, practicing and progressing through the ranks, and finally suffering the ordeal that is simply called the black belt test.

Learning a martial art is much like learning to read.  A child must first learn to recognize the letters of the alphabet and to remember their names, and then he or she progresses to putting the letters together, first in order to understand words, then sentences, and finally books.  In the same way, I had to begin by studying the very basic moves and the names of those simple motions, progressing to simple combinations of those moves, then to more complicated forms, and finally to advanced techniques.  Being an “older” student, I remember my kids making fun of me as I struggled with that first martial arts “sentence,” the very basic, first form of Tae Kwon Do, Kata #1.  They thought it was hysterical when their mom repeated the words of each motion into a tape recorder, several times over, and then ran the extension cord outside where there was enough room to go through the routine over, and over, and over again until I finally got it right.  That was my first sentence, the toughest one to learn, but I did it, and it provided the foundation for many moves to come.

 

The next 4 years were spent learning many more Tae Kwon Do techniques.  Each martial art has its own particular emphasis and style.  Tae Kwon Do means the way of the foot and fist.  It uses powerful blocks, strikes, and kicks as a means of self-defense.  It progresses through 10 levels of expertise, each level denoted by a different colored belt, culminating in black belt.  As I tend to do with anything I endeavor, I gave it my all, practicing wherever and whenever I could.  Starting at an older age was definitely a disadvantage.  My teenage daughter, who began taking classes at the same time, was a natural.  She learned things effortlessly and executed each move to perfection in no time.  For me, however, it was a different story.  I had to struggle and fail miserably, struggle and fail with a little more dignity, struggle and almost succeed, struggle and succeed poorly, then finally struggle and succeed well enough to proceed to the next rank, only to begin the process all over again in an effort to continue on the path toward black belt.

At long last, after years of struggling, the day eventually came when my instructor felt I was finally ready to test for my black belt.  Knowing how strenuous the test would be and how little natural muscle I had on my long and lean body, I had been pushing myself for 2 years to build up endurance and upper body strength (an area where I was severely un-gifted.)  That proved to be a really good thing, since the week of my test I was sick for several days, healthy for one, and then suffered a bout of insomnia the night before my big test (a problem I’ve had to deal with for many years before and since.)  When I arrived for my test, I felt more ready for bed than for anything else, but that was not to be.  The black belt test consists of a long, arduous series of events, encompassing everything learned since training began, as well as more push-ups and crunches than seems humanly possible to complete, culminating in continuous sparring with 4-6 different, energetic  black belts.  I didn’t know how I could possibly pass, but there was no way I wasn’t going to do my absolute best to succeed.  Thankfully, right before we began, one of the head judges gave me the best advice possible: whenever feasible, between every move if need be, relax completely.  I took that advice to heart, using every available moment when not in the act of executing a move to rest.  And it worked!  4 ½ hours later I had completed all my requirements, and although my body had been through the worst workout of a lifetime and I even had blood blisters on the bottom of my feet, I felt great!  And, of course, I had that new black belt around my waist to wear as a badge of honor and achievement.

That was 10 years ago, and since that time I’ve been teaching Tae Kwon Do myself, sharing what I’ve learned with others as well as enjoying the excuse to keep up my own skills.  It’s been fun to be part of the almost-hidden, mysterious martial arts community, and to have had an opportunity to go to Canada to help judge a black belt test there.  While I haven’t needed to use the skills I’ve learned in real life applications, it’s definitely made me more aware of potentially dangerous situations as well as ways to avoid putting myself into those situations. I certainly feel that all the learning, and trying, and doing was well worth the effort, and I’m looking forward to continuing to learn, and try, and do even more things in the future.