Teachers... Guardians of our future...

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth.  Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same.  However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.


Mrs Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath.  In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.  It got to the point where Mrs Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big 'F' at the top of his papers.


At the school where Mrs Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last.  However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.


Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners... he is a joy to be around..'


His second grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.'


His third grade teacher wrote, 'His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken.'


Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, 'Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class.'


By now, Mrs Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself.  She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's.   His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.


Mrs Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents.  Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume.  But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.  Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, 'Mrs Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.'


After the children left, she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.   Mrs Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy.  As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive.  The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded.  By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her 'teacher's pets..'


A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.


Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy.  He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in life.


Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck w ith it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honours.  He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.


Then four more years passed and yet another letter came.  This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further.  The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had.  But now his name was a little longer.... The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.


The story does not end there. 

You see, there was yet another letter that spring.  Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married.  He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.


Of course, Mrs. Thompson did.  And guess what?  She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing.  Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.


They hugged each other, and Dr Stoddard whispered in Mrs Thompson's ear, 'Thank you Mrs Thompson for believing in me.  Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.'


Mrs Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back.. 'Teddy, you have it all wrong.  You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference.  I didn't know how to teach until I met you.'




It might be an urban legend, but this ol' tear jerker still has a great message...

Are you part of the Lost Generation?

Very thought provoking.... I can totally see how much my apathetic attitude towards my weight is just reinforcing my bad behaviours in relation to getting control of my weight...

So interesting to see how the same words can means such different things...

Helicopter Parenting

I found an article today through this post by Damomma about helicopter parenting that struck a chord with me on so many levels. 

You see, my son is only in kindergarten and already has me hovering around his school like a blackhawk... and I just learned that my daughter might have some of the same issues ... issues with authority  ...  part of the reason I was so interested in the article below.   

I was surprisingly very emotional when reading this article by Susan Gregory Thomas about how Generation X kids overcompensate in parenting their children.

It's obviously something I need to explore a whole lot more, because it was the WHY that got to me...   Here's a taste test for you:

If you want to know what's unhealed from your own childhood, have children.  Key to decoding our parental behavior is understanding that we are, albeit often unconsciously, doing for our children what no one did for us.....  For starters, we are ferocious advocates for our kid.

Generation X ..."went through its all-important formative years as one of the least parented, least nurtured generations in .... history."   Little wonder: Half of all Gen Xers' parents are divorced. We were the first to be raised in record numbers in day care, and some 40 percent of us were latchkey kids.

We've been taking care of ourselves since we started going to school, and we don't trust authority figures, because they weren't trustworthy when we were growing up. Our parents didn't know what was going on at school, and our teachers didn't know what was going on at home. We're not going to let this happen to our children -- not even for a second. We'll do whatever we have to do to make sure our kids get what they need.

This explains my feeling of being neglected as a child (even though I was clothed, fed, warm). 

I've told myself so many times.. 'I don't know what your issue is, so many kids had it much worse than you' and i've guilted myself into tucking those feelings away as invalid...  maybe they aren't so invalid.  Maybe I was just a kid that needed somebody else to take responsibility .... needed parents?

Am I overcompensating with my children (and thus enabling their behaviour issues at school) because of what I didn't get as a child?   How do I fix it?

Food for thought...  Anyone else?

So what are you going to do about it?

We all have monsters in our closets....things that come out only in our deepest, darkest hours, then we shove them back in until our next weak moment.   Mine are my thoughts...  specifically my self-talk about whether or not i'll ever be able to get control of my weight and live the fulfilling life that I SO want to live.

The power of our mind is amazing.  I read once that, in setting ourselves unattainable goals, we are sometimes looking to fail as an excuse to keep telling ourselves, 'well, you failed at that, don't bother trying'....  why is it that we are so scared of failing in our weight loss efforts that we make it happen to ourselves?

I don't consider myself to be a quitter in everyday life.  I face challenges at work, with my children, out in the world... but in my own world, I am weak....  There, I said it. 

I am so afraid of failure (or maybe of the effort that you have to put in?) that I won't even give it a proper try.  It breaks my heart to admit it...

I went to a networking dinner with some workmates this weekend, and they had a section at the end where you had to answer a few questions about yourself...

One of them was what would you like to do before you die?

Hmm.... so easy to answer this one with a flippant "become The Rock's personal massuese" or something similar, but when the girls asked me I said 'get control of my weight, and get married... in that order'  (yes, that's right, i'm not officially married yet - I hate calling him my partner/defacto and boyfriend doesn't cut it when you've been together for like 15 years).

So anyway, the workmate sitting next to me, a lovely fit healthy outgoing lady in her late forties, says 'so what are you going to do about it?'

It was like a slap in the face, but in a good way...It made me think. 

I've wasted so many years thinking 'if I do (a), (b) or (c) like so-and-so then I will get the same results'.  When really i've been holding myself up to totally unrealistic standards.... other people's ideals.

So what am I going to do about it?

Therein lies the question.  And i've been thinking about it ever since...

I need to do something that will fit in with my life and work for ME in MY situation.  And maybe then i'll stop beating myself up for NOT doing the things that work (seemingly so easily) for others.

If you're still here after all that rambling, i'd love to hear your thoughts,

Words of Wisdom

Just read this post from Shelli's Sentiments about recognising the good things about the people you love whilst they are still with you. 

It's led to the creation of a web site, Letters for the Living, so that people can write open letters to those that mean something to them  (sort of like PostSecret is to people with a secret they need to share).

What a great idea it is to provide a protected environment for people to express those things that are often just too darn hard to say out loud.  I reckon it will be a hit... and although i'm not good at expressing all that mushy stuff, if I ever send you a link directly, please read it :)

In the same vein, there's this post from Coffee Soup where Michele writes about losing her Mum to a form of cancer.    Choked.Me.Up.  Bring your tissues if you have any mother issues... or maybe that's just me?