Category: Writing

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The Golf of Politics

If you’re anything like me, I’d like smaller government. No, this is not an article persuading you to vote for fewer taxes or for government to get out of your life. It’s a plea for politicians to play more golf! Politics and golf go together like peas and carrots. We can armchair quarterback all day about how the government shall be doing their job, but for some reason it’s much more fun to critique the political figures’ golf swing. How did they vote on the debt ceiling? What about their voting record on immigration reform? Who cares! More importantly, what is their handicap? That’s what matters in politics. In Washington more than anywhere else, politics and golf have long been linked. (No pun intended).

I have this theory that maybe the world would be a better place if they’d play more golf and play less politics. I mean just recently, there was much ado about an infamous foursome. Yes, it was the “Battle O-Bo” ac- cording to Gold Digest. Speaker John Boehner and Barak Obama joined Vice President Joe Biden and Ohio Governor John Kasich for a round of golf on June 18th, 2011. Boehner is listed as a 7.9 and Obama a 17 in Golf Digest’s annual recap of Washington’s power players. Lyndon Johnson once said, “One thing you better learn if you want to be in politics is that you never go out on a golf course and beat the president.” Apparently, Kasich and Biden heeded that wisdom as the succumbed to a Boehner/Obama victory as they won on the 18th hole. According to U.S News, they all enjoyed a cold drink on the clubhouse patio and spent some time chatting with ser- vice members before the president headed back to the White House. Ah, can’t they all just get along!? What a lovely scene.

Maybe the way to world peace is a few rounds. Passion for golf has come from politicians for years; from lobbyists who have used it to sweeten the members of Congress, and the members of Congress have used it to gain knowledge of each other’s habits. The presidential habit of getting on the green seems to be building. Presidential candidates maybe should take note. Instead of campaigning, maybe they better get on the greens and start swinging their club instead of their votes.

Obama seems to be taking that ad- vice. He has logged more rounds of golf (32) in his first 14 months than George W. Bush did in his two terms (24). A deeply committed Bush used to focus wholeheartedly on his swing. In fact, one could tell his passion (for golf) as he stopped to comment on the looming terrorism problem. “I call upon these nations to do everything they can to stop these terrorist killings. Thank you. Now watch this drive.” Reagan’s passion for golf trumped that of his love of Congress. He commented once, “My golf-loving friend Bob Hope asked me what my handicap was. So I told him- the Congress.”

Sadly, Ford should have taken Obama’s lead. “I know I’m getting better at golf because I’m hitting fewer spectators…either that, or fewer people are watching me play.” I think they are both true. But as far as presidential swingers go, oddly enough, the most avid White House golfer was Woodrow Wilson, who played twice as many rounds as Ike, which is hard to believe because Ike managed to squeeze in 800 rounds during his two years. There have been only three presidents since Taft — Hoover, Truman and Carter – who didn’t touch the game. JFK was rated the best presidential golfer, but only because of his graceful swing. As president, he rarely played the game, but mainly hit range balls on weekends to let off steam apparently.

It seems that golf provides relief for politicians with great responsibility, while still challenging their minds and bodies. But the way I look at it, golf teaches valuable lessons and offers priceless mea- sures of a man or woman’s character, which politics needs. Politics takes place on the golf course, but golf transcends politics. Maybe if they would play more golf, we’d know who has the character to run this country. So, as the election season looms, you politicians, get out there and play more golf.

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What I “Carpe”

What I “Carpe”

 

“Seize the day”  (Walt Whitman)

 

Carpe cushioned reclining chairs

Carpe doggie play dates

Carpe coffee and conversations

And free refills from Circle K

Carpe old and new friends

 

Carpe hand-written “I Love You’s”

Carpe a slow-soothing song

Carpe Scrabble and Words with Friends

And Tesseract Wikis

Carpe old and new movies

 

“Carpe Diem” says this crazy teacher

Carpe all flavors of Hershey’s kisses

Carpe beautiful sunflowers

Carpe U2

Carpe Now

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The Green Electric Box

The Green Electric Box

 

“Yes, Shelley, you are president again.” It was going to be Kelly, Annabel, or Shelley, but not me. No, I was not to be president, as I did not want to speak up. What if they did not like me? I knew I was special in that I did not want to be like everyone else, but I also knew I wanted to be liked, even at this age of 7. I always felt like I was in observation mode, stepping outside myself to examine others around me. I never really felt a part of any “group.” Being the square peg, I never seemed to fit into the round hole which everyone seemed to be a part. I could not put my finger on it, but I knew I was different in some way. I was more sensitive and affected by everything around me. The introspection I would face daily, would drive me crazy. However, little did I know that God was preparing me to be a leader and a teacher. One thing I did discover, nevertheless, is that every child has these deep insecurities, but they are covered up by bullying, snickering, gossiping, or extreme shyness.

 

This club that we had formed took place on a small green electric box in the town homes for which we lived. It was just the right size to fit 4 tiny bodies, sitting Indian style. Shelley would call the meeting to order and we would discuss the latest issue of “Tiger Beat.” Sean Cassidy was the heartthrob, but I had my eye on Andy Gibb. This was a never-ending controversy, but I did not want to have the same crush as everyone else. We would decide what fan club we were going to support. We finally agreed that Leif Erickson was a superior choice. Again, I did not concur, but I felt it would be fun to be a part of the “club.” This became our daily routine until we got bored with that and decided to play “Charlie’s Angels.”

 

Now, the most sought after “Angel” was Kelly (played by Farrah Fawcett).  Unfortunately, the loser had to be stuck being “Sabrina” played by Kate Jackson. Again, it was rare that I got to be Kelly, but the fantastic thing was that I was small, so I did not usually get stuck with Kate’s role. I just remember how cool we thought we were. This game would usually, in turn, create animosity between Shelley and Annabel. They were always fighting. I typically would try to assist in them making amends and I knew I did not want to anger friends. I always wanted to keep things peaceful. I found early on that it is impossible to please everyone and keep the peace. Conflict management was applied in my life which soon came natural since my home life was filled with chaos and conflict.

 

To this day, I still strive to keep the peace. I don’t have the same desires to be in the “club.”  Of course, I want to be liked and be “popular.” However, the standards I follow now are God’s standards which are not always what the masses believe. I have found that having good character is a pathway to happiness and peace of mind. As Ray Magdalene says, “Like ripples in a pond, your character radiates outward and touches the hearts of people within your sphere of influence.” What I do to live a godly life and how much I love others will determine not only my happiness, but will permeate the lives around me and create a better world. I pray I can live with this type of grace for others and for myself. The green electric box still stands today and is a constant reminder of my newfound strength, hope, and encouragement to self-inflicted “square pegs” around the world.

 

 

 

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Skating on Thin Ice

Skating on “thin” ice

LONG AGO

Was it gymnastics? No. Was it going to be ballet? No. My “Sunday” Dad would introduce me to tennis and basketball, but it did not catch on. With an athletic family, there must be something I would excel in. One day, my mom took me to the ice skating rink. She struck gold when she bought me a pair of pricey ice skates. It was a huge sacrifice for her due to her extremely limited income. My father would support this sport for me, but with much contention. He made it difficult for me to thoroughly enjoy it because I was reminded often of how costly my chosen sport had become.

My skates would adorn my cold feet as they came to bed with me every night. Of course, the rubber guards covered the sharp blades at all times or else mom would have banned this habit. I could put out an eye! (or a toe!) The morning sun would shine through my white wooden shutters and up I would rise to a new day of gliding through the house.

SOMETHING WARM

It was the day of my lesson with coach Jim and how I panted with excitement to attempt that darn axel jump. The lay back/sit/camel spins were the most exhilarating, but how I longed to land that axel with precision and ease. “If you don’t fall and get scraped up, you are not trying!”, I would hear over and over. The warmth of my leg “sweaters” would cuddle my legs and the hope of Dad or Mom watching from above would coddle my soul. I hoped they would eye my grace, but often that was not the case. I was usually floundering on the ice to make it through a day’s lesson and I would watch all my “competition” look perfect.  I’d exit the ice and grab a hot chocolate out of the vending machine to rest my weary body, but “no rest for the weary” would play in my head as I savored every drop only to go back and try again.

PRECIOUS AS GOLD

It was time to prepare for the ISIA competition to be held in Phoenix. If I could earn a medal in this event, Dad would perhaps let me go to California to compete in a larger event. The day was approaching and I found that all the other girls were adorning their tiny skater bodies with expensive, ornate costumes. I so wanted to fit in to the “look” of the hip skaters. I also wished I could afford the fancier, more durable skates. I was never to complain. My dear mother took her precious hard earned income and created an emerald green sequenced butterfly to be sewn on my basic green skating dress. It was beautifully made and from the heart. No, it did not fit the “look” of the rest of the girls, but I appreciated it immensely. My dad was too busy to come for the big day, but I did have my mom and grandparents there. My coach also watched with pride and expectation. The cameras were ready and music began to play. It was just me; alone on the ice with not a movement or sound to be found. Before I knew it, I had completed my program. No knees were scraped and no falling took place. I heard on the announcements, “And…the Gold medal goes to…..Stephanie Scharf!!.” I did it! My first medal..in front of all those peering eyes!!

MAKES YOU LAUGH

Now it was time to head into the room for pictures. I knew that this was a moment to be proud. I think, however, my mom was more proud than me. When I first started out, it was pure enjoyment. However, sometimes I felt like I was doing this to be perfect and accomplish something great for her. But I digress. I now can laugh at my stickly figure which was two long legs butting out from my chest. My waist was non-existent as I resembled a beanpole adorned in a teeny green dress and poofy, little belly. Those pictures will always make me laugh and also to be proud. Oh Boy! Orange Julius..here I come!

MAKES YOU CRY

The part that makes me cry pierces my heart to the core. From the day I started, it was always brought to my attention how expensive my chosen sport had become. My father, who contributed to this endeavor never let me forget how hard it was for him to keep it up financially. Everything cost money. On Sundays, the only days I saw him, he would take me to the rink and watch me for a few minutes. Then he would leave and come pick me up later. He never had time to come to competitions, but I did know he was proud of me. I think I skated my heart out to please him, but I could never do enough. I also could never get

 

 

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My Road Not Taken

Grassy Roads

            I have a confession to make: I never felt part of “the group” in middle school. It wasn’t until returning to my high school reunion that my classmates shared with me how much they thought I had it all together and that they had an abounding respect for me. Looking back now, I realize that the poem I had to grudgingly memorize in 8th grade, The Road Not Taken, would profoundly influence and encourage my life. Often I was faced with “two roads” and over and over again I picked the least popular way. But now, as the poem relays, “I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

Making a difference has been my battle cry since I can remember. Graduating college at 20 years old with a marketing degree, high aspirations, and a shiny new company car, I was ready to take on the world! California, here I come! The plethora of cardboard boxes which served as my faux furniture populated my apartment until I could afford a real table and chairs. It was now that I was really grown up and ready to not only make some real money, but hopefully change the world. After about one year of going from client to client and hearing, “No, thank you…..we have what we need,” I was unsure what my purpose served. That is when I headed straight to a professional career counselor.

Fast-forward about ten years. I did not quit my job, but I bided time for many unquenched years. Frustrated…empty…and truly marking time, I couldn’t understand how I was going to satisfy this yearning in my heart to turn my desire of “making a difference” into a reality. All of my friends, including me, were making tons of money, but I was miserable. This is when I knew I needed to take a different route. It was time to return to school and pursue a nagging passion for which I had been dissuaded from pursuing early on. “Why, Stephanie, would you want to go into a profession which doesn’t produce a high income?” Having the money and working countless hours on something that produced no internal rewards was leading me to a wasted life. No more time to waste. I knew if I did what I loved, the money would follow.

Teaching has proved to be the hardest job; much harder than any million-dollar producing business endeavor for which I had ever participated. However, I go home each day exhausted with a sense of satisfaction, warmth, and eternal perspective. I may not be raking in the dough as I had in my past (like the so-called “world” would desire), but I’m hopefully making more of a difference than I would pounding the pavement selling a product for which is unneeded.

“Two roads diverged in a wood and I; I took the one less travelled by. And that has made all the difference.” Robert Frost knew that a grassy road may be unpopular, but sometimes, the grassy road wants wear. I will never fully know for whom I have helped or what mark I will have in this world, but I will now never regret my choices to be a bit “different” in order to make a difference.

 

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Be Nobody’s Darling

6/16/2010

Be Nobody’s Darling

Be nobody’s darling

Be proud of who you are

The empty spaces in the heart

Vacuous and wide

Only filled by a love divine

Ignorant of need

I is fine

Self connected upward and high

Not side by side which fails everytime

Alone not lonely

In a world of lonely

People places crowds faces

Unwanted and needed

That one who gets us

Who understands the silence

the unspoken tongue

it’s a wonder one is alone

What who when why

It’s not to question or to belie

Be nobody’s darling

Unless it is true

Up above is the only one who can choose

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Defending my Doctorate….I finished!

I made it!!

I defended on April 2nd and passed.

Graduation is May 12th, 2010. WOW, it’s finally here.

Here is my topic: Because Writing Counts! Discovering the Perceptions of Middle School Content Teachers About Writing in Their Classrooms

ABSTRACT

The purpose of this qualitative interview study was to examine the factors of teachers’ perceptions and choices about writing across all disciplines in an urban, highly ELL populated middle school more closely. Four teachers were studied in depth, and data collected included in-depth interviews. Findings indicated three main assertions related to the research questions which sought to understand if teachers see a link to writing and learning, how teachers perceive and utilize writing in their content area classroom, as well as what factors influenced their implementation practices. These assertions are that: (a) Writing is both process and product providing proper evidence to be a mode of learning. They claim that it is helpful for processing, clarifying, reflecting, and also can solidify what has been learned. In some cases, it also provides a record or product of what has been learned providing confidence in the learner, which is significant for the ELL student. The research has unquestionably proven that the cognitive operations that students utilize during the writing process have helped illuminate the real power of writing;  (b) Teachers usage of writing (for literacy for ELL and English fluent students) depends on the goal or purpose, the timing, and the audience; This included writing to learn strategies that draw on past knowledge, prepare for new learning, review and/or fuse relevant knowledge, and to then extend knowledge; (c) Teachers are influenced by both internal and external factors which affects their implementation efforts. I found that staff development classes had the biggest influence on these teachers, but there were many areas of writing in content areas, especially the junior high areas of math and science, in which teachers could use more writing to learn strategies, and how to couple their already practicing cooperative learning strategies with writing through a staff development class or modeling. This study is in preparation for designing an intervention for staff development on teaching writing to learn strategies in any middle school; especially one with a high ELL population.