The Little Things

Today we had a thunderstorm.  Those of you not in Southern California might be thinking, “And?”  You need to know that rain here is an actual news story, and thunder and lightning are certain to be a leading story in this evening’s news.  In fact, it is the number one story on tonight’s six o’clock news.  Before today’s storm, I have heard thunder exactly three other times, each time only single claps.

It is so rare, in fact, that my first year here, the Kindergarteners were so upset that they had to debrief with them and one of my eighth graders climbed under his desk.

But today it’s been raining and thundering off and on since a little after 10:30.  The first thunder-clap happened while my kids were writing, and I had to explain what it was.  Once they realized it, they begged me to let them go outside to try to see lightning.  “I’ve never seen lightning before,” one of my eighth graders confessed.  Several others nodded in agreement.  “Please,” they implored.  “I want to see what it looks like!”

Now, I am from the Midwest where the sky goes green-black and tosses hail mercilessly upon the earth.  The light rain and occasional grumble from the sky did not impress me.  However, it is a Big Deal to kids who wish longingly for rain under the endless sunny sky.

So, we went outside, and I helped them find the best vantage point to find lightning.  They chattered with excitement, breathing in the fresh air, and waited patiently to catch a glimpse.  Finally, it happened:  a bright flash of light right in front of them followed a few seconds later by a loud boom.  They clapped their hands, danced around, and tried to figure out how far away the lightning was by using calculations they’d heard about but never used before.  It was more than a little magical.

Taking ten minutes out of our humanities class might seem frivolous in this age of accountability and testing, but I disagree.  It bought a lot of goodwill, enthusiasm, and a visit back to a younger age when everything was fascinating and worthy of study.  We still accomplished everything we needed to, and we shared an important moment in their lives.  Sometimes looking at lightning is more important than what we’ve got planned in class.  Not always, but sometimes, and it’s important to embrace those moments for the things they teach.

Tag Sales, Tents & Teachable Moments

It’s 7:26 pm Sunday night. There is a knock on the front door and my six year old German Shepherd, Blue, is barking anxiously at the short silhouette visible through the marbled glass on the door. Blue knows we don’t get visitors during 60 Minutes on Sunday nights.

As I open the door I see a vaguely familiar face of an older woman, standing, waiting to greet me. Is this lady selling something? Religion, maybe? She has a warm face with a soft smile. Does she realize it’s 7:30 at night? Does she realize 60 Minutes has barely begun its second segment and I’m missing the story?

She tells me it’s about the tent I sold her the previous day. Of course. I remember now. I’m not processing the tent information so much as I’m remembering her face and those kind eyes. I recognized her from the tag sale my wife and I held yesterday, on Saturday. I remember her talking with my wife for longer than the usual tag sale chatter about camping and my wife shared with her that we had plans to camp in Canada this summer. Ok, so what’s wrong with the tent? I start thinking. Missing pieces? Ripped seams? How am I going to handle this? Anyway, do people get refunds from tag sale purchases?

And then she says when she got home and set it up in their back yard, she and her husband realized the tent had never been used. It was in perfect condition. Not a speck of dirt on the underside that normally meets the ground in a camping situation. And so she and her husband, in an epiphanic moment, guessed that we sold them our new tent. They posited that we bought a new one and intended to sell the old one at the tag sale but somehow mixed them up (tents, after all, are stored in rolled up positions). She shared how she and her husband were sure that’s what happened and that they knew without discussion that they had to drive back to our house and do the right thing: return the brand new tent for the used one, the one that they were sure existed and supposed to have bought.

So here I am, standing on the front porch – completely forgetting about 60 Minutes – and I’m speechless. I assure her that the tent is indeed theirs. I acknowledged that it was acquired by me a marriage ago and that it has been in storage for years. I assure her that my wife and I have the new one, and that it is safely stowed away amidst the rest of our camping gear. I thank her for being so honest and as I turn to go back inside she insists that I take her name and number “just in case” I have the wrong tent in the camping gear.

When I go back inside, I share the exchange with my wife and she observes that it’s a shame that “only an older person would do that”, that young people today don’t have the same values.

Curiously, this month’s edition of Educational Leadership is on Teaching Social Responsibility (ASCD, May 2009). If I were still in the classroom, I would share this story with my students without hesitation. They need to think about these things and discuss them with someone they trust. We have more influence on them than we may sometimes think. As in parenting, critical teachable moments often start with a conversation and stories are great instigators of conversations. For the fifteen minutes I might spend doing so, let the pacing guides be damned. Some things are more important. dven.