My mother worked as a teacher for twenty-five years. Looking back at old class photos, I can see how much she loved what she did. She put a lot of energy into her work and into her students. I loved listening to her talk about them and the projects she did with them. She had wanted to be a dress designer in New York City. She was a good artist and always encouraged my sister and me to paint and draw. In fact, she painted one wall in our basement pure white and let us paint and design whatever we desired. Once it was up for a while, she’d paint it white again, and we would start anew. Years later, I realized how much she influenced me: I love to draw, write, and read. I love sharing everything I know with small children. I taught many children to sew, just like my mom taught me.
Tag: family
The Road to our Imagination
I have worked with many students who have been diagnosed with ADHD, and they respond well to me because I have shared with them that I have a similar kind of mind and that it is a special, wonderful gift. I don't excuse them. They still need to learn to be organized and hand in homework, but I also celebrate their wild wonderings. I encourage them to question and think. No idea is too ridiculous. All are welcome in the broadest sense.
Working in the Wonder Studio: A Tale of Two Bunnies
Four years ago, as we lived through COVID restrictions, I continued to work in the Wonder Studio with students, and crafting became our safe haven. I had considered abandoning for a year, but the children would stop me in the hallway or during classes and ask, “When is Wonder Studio starting again? You need to get it up and running!” I could not disappoint them. I have been privileged to work alongside some of the bravest and most brilliant little girls who would not take “NO!” for an answer. So, I kept offering times throughout that COVID year, stopping occasionally when restrictions prevented us from meeting.
Making the Broken, Beautiful
When I read "Broken" by X. Fang and thought about a memory of something broken, I immediately thought about a glass jar that held cigars tightly packed in concentric circles. This jar was not something that I broke. No. But I can see it vividly even though this memory is close to 60 years old. I thought the glass container was so beautiful, encircled by a red satin ribbon, holding something my father enjoyed – cigars. When I saw it in the store, I knew I had to buy it for him for Father’s Day. I was so pleased with myself and knew he would be proud of me.
Christmas Tree Memories
The one symbol of Christmas that I have always loved is the Christmas tree. I loved the anticipation of buying it and bringing it home, decorating it, and watching it light up the winter darkness. To tell the truth, I didn't really even care much for the presents. The tree was present enough for me.
Song of Vivian
Since this week also marks what would have been her 102nd birthday, I wrote a poem to celebrate my mother, Vivian Victoria – a talented and creative seamstress, and later an inspiring elementary school teacher.
