Get Off the Grass

Our youngest son, Smyth, is a freshmen in high school.  He played football, is currently playing basketball and plans to try out for baseball.  He loves team sports and will play them as long as he can handle academics and the practice schedules.  Once he retires from high school sports, he will remain active physically, as it is in his blood.  He enjoys practicing, even an off-season sport, even by himself.  On Monday he experienced something that he just didn't understand.  An adult told him to leave a school field because he might "damage the grass."

Now a little background for those of you who do not live in our area.  We have had an incredible sunny January, and that is rare for Oregon.  Usually our winters are rainy and gray.  Because of our unusual weather the ground is hard, which is also rare in the winter.  Usually in winter our ground is really soft, but not this year as we have had very little rain this month.  We live in the boundary of the Tualatin Hills Parks and Recreation District, also known as THPRD.  This is a non-profit organization that oversees parks, fields and recreation centers in our area and receives its funding through property taxes and user fees.  Our school district has an agreement with THPRD as far as field use goes.  Without knowing the exact details, THPRD maintains most of the schools' fields in exchange for running various sports leagues on them.  In the Fall and Spring the field use is in high demand for soccer, baseball, and softball.  Some fields even have cricket games going strong.  But in the winter, the fields usually sit in wait for Spring.  The field Smyth was on is our local elementary school, and is used daily for recess when the weather permits.

Monday was a grading day for the teachers in our school district.  Smyth had basketball practice at the high school in the morning to start his day off.  Since the sun was out in the afternoon, Smyth lugged a tee stand, bat bag and bucket of 54 baseballs over to Elmonica.  He set the tee stand up on the area that once was home plate and began to take his cuts.  Since he was by himself, his plan was to hit all 54 balls then run out and pick them all up.  His goal was to hit about 100 times.  Keep in mind, high school baseball try outs are around the corner and Smyth has taken the initiative to prepare himself on his own.  On the third cut, an employee of THPRD came from across the soccer field (near the portables for those that know Elmonica) towards Smyth.  He then yelled "you're going to ruin the grass, get off the field."  Really? REALLY?!!  The ground is hard, he is standing in a dirt infield, so this guy is worried that a baseball landing the outfield is going to ruin the grass.  Wow.  Smyth is respectful so did what he was told.  He gathered up his three baseballs, packed up his bucket and bat bag, grabbed the tee and walked back home.

Besides the fact that this adult said something ridiculous, there was a deeper message.  We have adults in our community that tell kids who want to be outside and play, to go home.  Go home and do what, play video games?  Should my son be content on a beautiful day in January to play baseball on an xbox? No! He needs fresh air, he needs to practice to make the high school baseball team, he needs to build up endurance and strength and he needs to move those muscles around the outfield picking up all those balls to get his heart rate elevated.

We live in a time when obesity is considered a common childhood disease.  In 1980 only 5% of adolescents were considered obese.  Today one in three adolescents are obese (American Heart Association).  Diabetes in children is also on the rise due to sedentary lifestyles and weight gain (CDC).  Now there are some kids who are prone to diabetes because of family history and/or ethnic background, so this rise in statistics is not due to them.  It is directly related to the increase in childhood obesity.   Kids today are leading more sedentary life styles than just a generation ago.  Even the NFL recognizes that kids today need to engage in physical activity.  The NFL and the American Heart Association joined forces to launch a program to encourage kids today to have physical activity for 60 minutes per day year round.

Healthy lifestyle choices aside, if the THPRD employee was more concerned with the state of the grass in January than the needs of a teen who wanted to practice his skills, he still doesn't have a leg to stand on.  My husband coached Little League baseball for eleven years on these fields.  Last year was his 12th and he helped coach a JBO (Junior Baseball Organization) team.  Prior to that he coached high school baseball and even took his team to the State Championship.  He is skilled in field prep and the care of baseball fields, and used to hand mow his infield rather than let maintenance roll over it with their big cutters.  Monday's weather was not a threat to field maintenance, and Smyth knew that when he packed his gear.

I believe there must be a disconnect somewhere in the bureaucracy of THPRD for this employee to be more concerned with the dormant grass than a teenager engaging in appropriate physical activity.  The THPRD Mission Statement states that they want to "provide high quality park and recreation facilities.......to meet the needs of the diverse communities" it serves.  Quite possibly this employee confused the school yard/dormant field with one of it's parks?  Because I thought school fields were to be used for recreation.  I believe Smyth carrying his own equipment a few blocks to the school's field falls within the guidelines of recreating.  It is not vandalism to hit baseballs on a baseball field.  Yet that is how he was made to feel as he was kicked off the field.  All because he might damage the grass by playing on it.

When I called THPRD  I was told by the person who schedules field use that they are technically closed to groups from December 1st to March 1st to rest the fields.  While I understand that in most Januarys the fields are soft from rainfall, this was not the case on Monday.  Also my son was there by himself, not practicing with a team or even a group of friends.  So is it really THPRD's policy to kick a single kid off of an elementary school field because he wanted to hit baseballs?  When I pointed out that this is the same field kids play on during recess I was told that THPRD can't dictate to the schools when they can use their fields.  But apparently THPRD can dictate to a 14 year old boy that he can't hit baseballs on a baseball field.

The underlying message to a young teenager is this: the grass holds more value than him.  An adult in an authoritative position told him to get off the grass on a perfectly fine day.  What then is a teenage boy to do if we allow authorities to tell them to stop doing something constructive?  I don't have to look any further than the newspaper to find the answer.  Common sense was not considered when one person enforced a rule designed to keep teams from over using a field.  The rule is not there to keep good kids off a school baseball field that hasn't been prepped for play in a couple of years.  When I spoke with the person in charge of field maintenance, I was assured this incident would be used as an educational opportunity with his staff.  No one should tell a kid playing on a school field to go home because he might damage the grass.

The Story of Lasagna, Pizza Bread and Feeding Kids

I grew up on an acre of land in New York.  The property had many, many deciduous trees scattered throughout.  They were mostly oak with a cluster of sassafras and birch trees.  The fall foliage was incredible - but then the leaves came down.  Somewhere along my childhood my mother invented a social event: the leaf raking party.  She made lasagna while we invited friends over to rake leaves.  The yard was done in half the time and then everyone would gather around the table for a delicious dinner.  That definitely left an impression on me, mostly that if you offer to feed teenagers and young adults they will come out of the woodwork.

These days I have a much, much smaller yard and a lawn mower that picks up the trimmings.  This definitely frees up our Saturdays so we can take in a little college football.  This past weekend we had the opportunity to see a Duck football game and then visit with Emily for a bit. Since the game was over by late afternoon, we planned to bring some groceries to her house and cook a quick meal for her and her friends.

To give you an idea of where Emily lives, she is in a house with 44 other young women.  This house has a brother house with 28 young men living there.  Given that there is usually a cook on premise during the week you can imagine the size of the kitchen.  The kids are on their own for meals on the weekend, so we figured we might be feeding more than our own children Saturday night.  We asked Emily for a meal suggestion and she came up with pizza bread, an easy recipe my sister-in-law gave me when we started hosting team dinners.  So John had made up six batches of pizza dough that could rise while we were at the football game.  We tossed the other ingredients in a cooler, along with salad fixings.

After the game we made it back to the house and began to unload the coolers.  This cooking area is set up so a counter spans the length of the kitchen.  This counter has about ten stools where the kids can sit and look into the work area while eating or talking.  Once we had assembled the pans and cutting boards, we went to work.  Three of us rolled out the dough balls and began to assemble the loaves.  Kids started to congregate and socialize, partially out of curiosity about these parents cooking away, partially because of the marinara smells wafting in the air.  Emily would greet them all, make introductions and invite everyone to stick around and try some pizza bread.  Once all the loaves were out of the oven I had to make a decision: do we set the dining room table and invite everyone to join us?  Should I simply bring the platters to the counter where all had assembled and forgo my vision of a family-style dinner?  Looking at the group I decided to simply serve at the counter and keep it casual.  I feared we might lose a few in the transition to the dining room.  So we set out bowls of marinara for dipping and plates of sliced pizza bread.  I took a spot along the counter and listened to the stories the kids told, met some new gals and a few of the guys, and simply took in all the energy.  It was not the meal I planned per se, it was even better.

The older I get, the wiser I realize my mother was when raising me.  She knew if you cook a meal for young adults, make extra.  She also knew that if you want to know what is going on your child's life, invite a bunch of his or her friends over and simply listen.  Somewhere along the way I lost count of how many we fed that night, but I know stories were told and we laughed a lot.  So I continue to apply the things my mom taught me: hospitality is another word for love and when it comes to feeding young adults, cook a lot of food.  We didn't have to rake leaves this weekend, but the tradition of feeding the kids and their friends continues.

Life Lessons Learned on a Football Field

Before the start of each game, the captains walk
out to meet the opposing team's captain for the coin toss.
These young men are selected based on their leadership.

Friday night was the last high school football game of the season, and for many of the athletes it was the last game of their lives.  Sure, there will be pick up games, but that night was the last night many of them will ever suit up in full gear and play with those teammates.  There are always a lot of emotions when a sport season comes to an end for any athlete.  Each season bonds are forged, goals are set and hopefully accomplished, and a lot of personal growth takes place.  After the final game there is a spectrum of emotions that both athletes and parents feel as they process the finality of it all.  These past few days we have felt all these things.

Something happened after the game Friday night that was so moving, even at that moment it felt as if I were watching a sacred event unfold before my eyes.  To fully understand the meaning a little context is required.  All season long, the parents would wait until the teams congratulated each other before walking down to the field.  We would all congregate around our team huddle and wait for the boys to lift their fists and say something in unity before they turned and walked over to us.  Friday night was different, and for more reasons than the loss.  That night marked the end, and witnessing it felt like watching a sacred event. 

Personally, I was not caught up in the emotions that many of the parents experienced.  This is Jack’s first and last season, so we didn’t have as much invested as other parents.  Many of these families have been together for years.  In a way that gave me a somewhat impartial eye to witness the events unfold.  When the boys gathered into their last team huddle they stood motionless.  I suspect the coaches helped the young men shift their thinking from the loss to what they achieved and possibly they told them how proud they are of each of them.  The talk ended but the young men were not ready to take the next step.  They stood motionless for a few moments, a few long moments.  Then slowly they turned to each other and started hugging, sharing words and for some, openly crying.  Yet, as they did this, none of them turned around.  None.  It was clear that not one of them was ready for the moment to end.  Slowly, they moved around this nucleus with a chasm between them and us.  Keeping their backs to us – their family and friends – the young men continued to support each other and stretch that last moment.  Finally, one by one they broke the bond holding them together, and turned to face us parents.  Like I said earlier, it was like witnessing a sacred moment up close. 

I believe each one of the young men experienced a lot that night.  The seniors crossed the threshold of an important milestone.  For some, football is their identity, the core of who they are: a teammate, an athlete, and a leader.  Those seniors knew the moment they turned to face us parents and friends, it would be the first step into a new, possibly undefined part of their senior year.  It was their first major “last” event during this senior year.  There are some who will transition into other sports or activities, but that too is a giant step away from their identity as a football player.  I suspect many of the young men have been playing since elementary school, and this marked the last time they will don the armor of the game. 

As the young men broke away from each other, some shed tears while others held back but one thing was obvious, there was a lot of emotion down on that field.  When the coaches turned away from the huddle, some stopped to talk with parents while others busied themselves with the task of packing up.  Regardless, I could see in everyone’s eyes and body language that the coaches too were processing the end of a wonderful season but through the lens of a final loss.  Each will move at their own pace to the point where the beauty of this season is a stronger memory than that last loss.

Through the coaching staff’s commitment, these young men learned more than good techniques and strategies – they learned more than lessons associated with setting goals and working to achieve them.  We know they will all face different obstacles in life, but the skills learned during practice, games and that last huddle will help them find the strength and desire to move forward and overcome whatever challenge they face. 

This season was meaningful.  For that to occur, I recognize that the coaching staff has orchestrated something that doesn’t show up in the win-loss column.  The closeness of these young men speaks volumes toward the healthy attitudes and relationships amongst the team.  But the season was meaningful for more than those with uniforms, it was meaningful for the parents and the student body as well.  Am I happy that the team had a winning season?  Sure.  Do I appreciate how connected these young men are and how much they have grown on and off the field?  Absolutely.  That is the meaningful part, and the piece that will stay with them for the rest of their lives.  And for that I want to thank everyone on the coaching staff.  It was a beautiful season.

Go Get Your Car Washed

I believe in youth car washes.  This is not something I ever had a strong opinion about before this weekend, but the action of a bunch of young men changed my mind.  My boys are on a football team and they scheduled several car washes this Spring to raise money to help pay for summer camps and equipment.  Our turn rolled around on Saturday so I found myself hanging out with about ten 17 year old guys who worked really hard for four straight hours in the blistering heat.  Needless to say, I was impressed.

So why is this a new revelation?  I think because I was able to witness first hand the attitude these young men had about the job before them.  In my opinion high school kids are old enough to take a leading role in their own fund raising, be it selling things or activities involving sweat equity such as this car wash.  The young men that were washing cars on Saturday had a great attitude, which made them a pleasure to be around.  Maybe it was because they enjoy hanging out with each other, maybe it was because the sun was shining and this beats homework, or maybe it was because some of them have a genuine interest in cars. It could have been all of the above.

There is one piece of this fund raiser I failed to mention - the deposit can drive.  The boys literally recycled hundreds of cans and bottles.  When you do this as a fund raiser, you get the stickiest, smelliest cans and bottles around.  Whenever there was a lull in the car washing action, the young men fed the machines bottle after bottle.  While I understand some guys like cars and washing them isn't much of a chore, no one likes doing can and bottle returns.  Yet here these big guys were, working their way through bag after bag of donated deposit bottles.  Talk about sweat equity.

So the next time you see a youth car wash, drive up and let them work for a donation.  Maybe they will do a great job, maybe they will miss some spots.  Let them learn that we as a community will support them when they are willing to work.

Mixed Emotions About Today

I have today off, and so do the boys.  John had Friday off.  Sound good to you?  Well, I'd rather be teaching.  I would rather have my boys in their classes, but instead we are home.  Today is a "Budget Reduction Day" for Beaverton School District, while Friday St. Helens School District had one.  Beaverton had four Budget Reduction Days this school year with another five for next.  St. Helens School District had eight this year.  No matter what you call it, our family pays dearly for these days off, both financially and in terms of a shortened school year when Jack can use every possible day to help him succeed during his all important Junior Year.

This past year has been a difficult year to teach.  Each day I walk into my school and see the impact of the budget cuts.  We have shouldered cuts for the past five years and it has taken it's toll.  The result is one less administrator in the building, ten less teachers, no librarian, the elimination of some elective classes, one less PE teacher, one less counselor and of course a smaller building budget to buy needed supplies.  This creates an environment where we all put on our best face with the students but shoulder the responsibility of caring for and teaching more students than ever.  Recently we found out about the proposed cuts if the Levy doesn't pass in Beaverton and it sucked the air right out of the room.  Seriously.  The loss of two more teachers and the elimination of our Intervention classes (which target students at risk in reading and math).  You could hear a pin drop.

So here we are at the end of April and I struggle with how I feel about today.  Granted, it is a day off - but it is a Monday and I should be teaching.  My boys should be sitting at their desks.  My students should have access to the supports listed in the IEPs.  So why are we all sitting at home?  To balance a budget.  A school budget that has been cut by $140 million over the past five years in Beaverton.  This must stop, we cannot go on like this anymore.

In a couple of weeks, we have the opportunity to express how we want to respond to this situation.  The proposed levy for the May 21st will restore up to 150 teachers district wide, which will come down to 2-3 more teachers per building next year.  It doesn't replace all that has been cut, but it prevents further cuts and restores a few more teachers, reducing class sizes.  If there is any doubt in your mind about this levy, come visit my classroom.  I will show you first hand how the past five years of budget cuts have impacted my classroom and my school.

So my emotions are mixed about sitting at home today.  Maybe it will serve as a grave reminder to all voters in Beaverton that we cannot afford another school year with less instructional time, fewer teachers, and larger class sizes.  If that is the case, then I am glad something positive will come out of today.  I hope our community rallies around the school and sends a strong message that we value education and know the impact it has on our children, our future.  I hope today is a reminder that we need to pass the Beaverton Levy in a few weeks.

Youth Sports: Wrap It Up on Time Coach

I love youth sports.  My children have played on at least 120 different teams over the past 14 years and that alone should prove that point.  I say "at least" because I couldn't accurately count the Fall and Spring basketball teams the boys played on, All Star and Honors Little League or the Club water polo team Emily competed with since I can't exactly remember when each started those.  So all in all we could be talking closer to 135 different teams with the three kids across the four seasons.  I know their participation in youth sports has shaped them into wonderful young adults.  The lessons learned on the field, court, pool and diamond include leadership, responsibility, goal setting, roles, that life is not always fair and the refs don't always call things the way you see them.  But there is one thing that pushes my buttons, and that is when the coach keeps the athletes after practice when I have other places to go.

In the beginning of my parenting years, I didn't mind too much as we weren't so immersed.  Before I knew it, all three kids were doing sports from Fall through Spring.  During those years I wasn't as concerned if my kids made the highest level team, for me it was all about the carpool - who on this team lives near us?!  The Fall was always the hardest as the kids became older.  John would be coaching full time at the high school and left me to get all three children to and from practices, which is why I relied on carpools so much.  As the children reached later elementary years, I noticed a trend where the practices ran past the scheduled time.  Sometimes it was because the coaches had the athletes do some of the clean up and transport of equipment back to their cars.  OK, I understand we are building responsibility.  As we entered the middle school years, I noticed team meetings after practices that stretched the "end time" by another 20 minutes.  Well, I guess they are learning more about their roles as teammates and possibly game strategies.  But always in the back of my mind I thought to myself "if this meeting time is so important, extend the end time in the email sent out to all the parents!"

There was one time period and one particular season that is embedded in my memory.  It was the Fall of Emily, Jack and Smyth's 9th, 7th and 5th as well as their 10th, 8th and 6th grade years.  It was the Fall, so John was coaching more than full time and I was left getting everyone to their water polo, soccer and football practices and games.  Emily did not have her license yet so I was flying solo.  I ended up paying an upper class man who played water polo and lived near us to transport Emily consistently.  Best $5 per week I ever spent.  So that left me picking up Jack from Rock Creek and Smyth from Five Oaks at exactly the same time.  For those of you familiar with the area, you would think grabbing Smyth from Five Oaks then dealing with the six traffic lights in rush hour (which sometimes meant waiting through two to three cycles to get through each light) and heading to Rock Creek would make the most sense.  Except football practices NEVER end when the email says they end.  So, many times I would try to run to the other school to get Jack only to come back and find Smyth with the team parent in the parking lot giving me the evil eye - because those six lights can take 30 minutes round trip that time of night.  So often I was left with the decision of figuring out which child to leave stranded at a field waiting for me because their coach doesn't end practice when they say it will end.  Often I sacrificed Smyth knowing there were several moms who I got to know and they made sure he was safe while I did battle with traffic and hoping all the while the soccer coach kept a better time schedule.  Sometimes that worked, other times weren't so pretty.  Eventually I asked one of the football coaches for rides for Smyth and he was always gracious.  But still, in the back of my mind I just wished they would manage their time better so I could manage mine!!  If the clean up and the meetings are so important, budget time for them in the practice and stick to the schedule.  It would certainly make my carpool time more relaxed knowing exact end times!!  I really became grumpy when I would leave my high school student's game to pick my middle school student up from practice only to sit in a parking lot - waiting for another 20 minutes, missing the second half of the game.

Today was one of those days.  Our baseball double header was rained out so a last minute batting practice was called for 2pm.  No end time in the email - oops!!  I sent Smyth with his cell phone, but then ran into one of the coaches in the parking lot.  He told me it would be an hour, and if it is different, he would have Smyth text me.  OK, fair enough.  I did get a text telling me the practice would be and hour and a half so whoo hoo, schedule the errands.  John is out of town, so I time everything and head back to the school at the designated time.  Yet I ended up sitting there another 30 minutes.

At this point I would like to write an open letter to all youth coaches.  I would tell them that I completely understand they are volunteers and I appreciate the time commitment they invest in these athletes.  I would let them know my husband has volunteered to coach both youth basketball and baseball for more then 14 years, so I really do understand their time commitment is tremendous.  The one piece of constructive criticism I would give is that they need to honor my time commitment too, especially when I have two to three children to pick up at the exact same time from three different locations.  I would love to say my husband is diligent in this area when he coaches, but honestly he needs to hear it too.  Families in sports often run on a tight time schedule in the evening, so when you think the wisdom you need to pass along to the athletes right after practice is more important than keeping to the schedule you sent out in an email - think again.  We also teach these athletes a lot about time management.  So speaking for all the parents with multiple children playing on multiple teams, just tell me when practice really ends and I'll be there.

Thanking God for Modern Medicine

I am so thankful for the medical procedures today.  I know that if I lived in a different era, I probably wouldn't be alive.  But instead, I lay here counting my blessings and thanking God for guiding the surgeon's hands, for keeping me infection-free and for living in a time when these procedures can be done.  These were not the prayers I said a few days ago, those were more in line with "God, please keep me calm!"  Either way I was brought comfort: at first it was spiritual comfort and now it is physical comfort.

I used to hold my head at an angle to help my eyes focus
on the same object.  Draw an imaginary line from my nose
to my chin to see the tilt.

It amazes me what modern medicine is able to do these days.  We all know people who have undergone procedures that seemingly mirror what used to be portrayed in sci-fi movies.  We live in that reality today, amazing!  John had a dental implant after a root canal gone bad.  Really?  Who thought of placing a titanium rod into a person's jawbone to anchor a crown?  Actually John is a walking science experiment of sorts, as he has donated ligaments and screws holding both knees together.  Kind of a bizarre concept when you really think about it.

So why am I reflecting on the miracles of modern medicine? I am recovering from a second eye surgery to reposition muscles in my eyes.  I used to have to work really hard to keep both eyes looking at the same object, then they would fatigue and split the image so I would see two of the same object.  Big objects were easier to track (like cars) but small objects were impossible (like reading).  A few years ago they were able to take one of the palsied muscles off the right eye and sew in back on in a lower (or looser) position.  This week I had a similar surgery to repair what an autoimmune disease did to this weak point in my left eye.  Currently I look like boxer who lost a fight, but I know it is amazing what modern medicine is capable of these days.  But even more important than that, I know that God has guided my steps through a long (17 month process) journey that finally got me to this point.

I was a Beanie Baby for Halloween.  My
principal saw my head tilt when she
took the picture and commented,
"aw, you cocked your head, it looks
so cute."  Little did she know it was so I
could align my eyes to see one camera.

This surgery was actually scheduled for August so I would have time to recover before school started back up.  I had some reservations about it as there were several things wrong with the eye and no one really understood why it happened.  I have a 4th cranial nerve palsy which was previously fixed, but seemed to come undone.  I have Grave's Disease and that caused some Thyroid-related opthalmopathy.  The question remained: are the two related or was it a coincidence they flared up at the same time?  So, one specialist at Casey called the other and suggested we cancel the surgery and treat the Grave's Disease part of the equation first.  So five specialists, countless interns and residents (who were brought in to see the "medical freak" as it is rare for these two issues to coexist), 12 weeks of IV steroid infusions and seven months later the surgery date was set again.  While no one really knows all the answers on my case, I felt much better going the long route to get here.  I have seen every specialist that might have an opinion on my case, listened, and prayed.  So this time as the surgery date approached, I felt much better - even though it was the exact same surgery with the exact same surgeon.  This time I was at peace with it.


So I thank God for the wonders of modern medicine today and that we live so close to a resource such as Casey Eye Institute.  I also thank God for the support I have had along the way, particularly John's help - and when he wasn't available - my friend Jennifer who rearranged her work schedule to go with me for everyone of those darn IV infusions.  And I am sure my family thanks God that I am done with those incredibly high doses of steroids!!  So here's to seeing straight again, and for living in an era when diseases and injuries have the benefit of modern medicine and prayer.