News has broken that John Wooden, the legendary basketball coach of UCLA, has just passed away at the age of 99. I am honored to say that Coach Wooden was the first official contributor to "Grandma's Pearls" (January 19, 2007). He was college basketball's most successful coach (10 national championships during a 12-season stretch), yet he was most respected by his players as a wise, scholarly, and humble man. Coach Wooden has imparted his life lessons to younger generations through his many books and speeches. His famous "Pyramid of Success" has been the foundation of his teachings. Last night's New York Times article stated that he always carried a piece of paper with a message from his father:
“Be true to yourself. Make each day a masterpiece. Help others. Drink deeply from good books. Make friendship a fine art. Build a shelter against a rainy day.”
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar wrote in the New York Times in 2000, “To lead the way Coach Wooden led takes a tremendous amount of faith. He was almost mystical in his approach, yet that approach only strengthened our confidence. Coach Wooden enjoyed winning, but he did not put winning above everything. He was more concerned that we became successful as human beings, that we earned our degrees, that we learned to make the right choices as adults and as parents.
“In essence,” Abdul-Jabbar said, “he was preparing us for life.”
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
New England Independence
Pansy is the epitome of New England warmth and pride. She has eyes that sparkle, a charming sense of humor, an infectious laugh, and a smile that can instantly light up a room. Upon first meeting her, you feel as though you've known her for years. At the age of 91, she holds her head high and never complains about her health, or the harsh Boston winters.
Pansy gave birth to four boys in the 1940's and 50's. As the mother of four boys, you can only imagine all the testosterone in the air, and it was necessary that she run a tight ship. Unfortunately though, Pansy had occasional bouts of migraine headaches that would keep her from performing her duties as commander-in-chief. As a result, she had to teach her boys how to take care of themselves. They learned to cook, clean, make lunches, and get themselves to school in the morning. Certainly not typical of boys raised during that time. They have all grown into responsible men, able to handle almost anything life presents them. Pansy taught them very well. A word of advice to parents though: "I did encourage my boys to be independent, but today there is a fine line between independence and safety. Parents have a much more difficult job in today's world."
Pansy gave birth to four boys in the 1940's and 50's. As the mother of four boys, you can only imagine all the testosterone in the air, and it was necessary that she run a tight ship. Unfortunately though, Pansy had occasional bouts of migraine headaches that would keep her from performing her duties as commander-in-chief. As a result, she had to teach her boys how to take care of themselves. They learned to cook, clean, make lunches, and get themselves to school in the morning. Certainly not typical of boys raised during that time. They have all grown into responsible men, able to handle almost anything life presents them. Pansy taught them very well. A word of advice to parents though: "I did encourage my boys to be independent, but today there is a fine line between independence and safety. Parents have a much more difficult job in today's world."
Saturday, May 22, 2010
97 Years of Wisdom
My mother-in-law will celebrate her 97th birthday this year. Upon hearing her age, people who haven't yet met her tend to jump to conclusions about her quality of life. I must say that I don't blame them. I remember days long ago when my school service group would make visits to the local senior home. Many of the residents were in wheelchairs or confined to their beds. They seemed lonely and were hungry to interact with our group of teen kids.
My mother-in-law breaks that mold. She is one of those lucky individuals who has maintained an extremely sharp and witty mind. She is blessed with a a physical strength that enables her to live on her own in a 2-story home. She cooks, cleans, gardens, and either walks or takes public transport to wherever she needs to go. She is the epitomy of independence, and typically refuses to accept much help from anyone, including her children or grandchildren. Try to treat her to dinner, and she'll knock you down fighting for the bill.
In addition to being independent, she says the key to her success is the lifeskill of Flexibility. You never know what life is going to present to you, and you have to change with the times. Too many people get stuck in their ways, and they end up frustrated and unhappy. Try a new food, a new hobby, making a new friend....take a chance, and you will learn something new in the process!
My mother-in-law breaks that mold. She is one of those lucky individuals who has maintained an extremely sharp and witty mind. She is blessed with a a physical strength that enables her to live on her own in a 2-story home. She cooks, cleans, gardens, and either walks or takes public transport to wherever she needs to go. She is the epitomy of independence, and typically refuses to accept much help from anyone, including her children or grandchildren. Try to treat her to dinner, and she'll knock you down fighting for the bill.
In addition to being independent, she says the key to her success is the lifeskill of Flexibility. You never know what life is going to present to you, and you have to change with the times. Too many people get stuck in their ways, and they end up frustrated and unhappy. Try a new food, a new hobby, making a new friend....take a chance, and you will learn something new in the process!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Making Memories
Here's a wonderful Thanksgiving pearl from Marilyn Lane. Ms. Lane is the co-author of "Parenting With Purpose: Five Keys to Raising Children with Values and Vision."
I remember one Thanksgiving when I was a principal at an elementary school in the Bay Area in California. I was very busy with both my job and my efforts to provide Thanksgiving dinners for some of our school's families. My daughter, who was a single mom, was traveling to my house for Thanksgiving along with her daughter Sarah who was about three or four.
I had almost decided to buy Thanksgiving dinner from one of the supermarkets that provide complete dinners for a price, when I received a call from Sarah. In her usual enthusiastic voice, Sarah said, "OH Grandma, Grandma. I can hardly wait until we get to your house! We can find beautiful leaves to decorate the table like we did last year, and I can help you make the pies and......." and then I knew I had to make Thanksgiving dinner, and include Sarah and her mom in the making. I wasn't just making a dinner; I was making a memory that would last forever. I was providing a tradition and a feeling of continuity and belonging for my family.
Sarah is in college now, and she still helps me make pies. Last year she made two aprons for me for my birthday. On the front, with liquid embroidery, she had written "Grandma" on one and "Sarah" on the other. They both hang in the pantry so we can use them whenever we make pies together.
I remember one Thanksgiving when I was a principal at an elementary school in the Bay Area in California. I was very busy with both my job and my efforts to provide Thanksgiving dinners for some of our school's families. My daughter, who was a single mom, was traveling to my house for Thanksgiving along with her daughter Sarah who was about three or four.
I had almost decided to buy Thanksgiving dinner from one of the supermarkets that provide complete dinners for a price, when I received a call from Sarah. In her usual enthusiastic voice, Sarah said, "OH Grandma, Grandma. I can hardly wait until we get to your house! We can find beautiful leaves to decorate the table like we did last year, and I can help you make the pies and......." and then I knew I had to make Thanksgiving dinner, and include Sarah and her mom in the making. I wasn't just making a dinner; I was making a memory that would last forever. I was providing a tradition and a feeling of continuity and belonging for my family.
Sarah is in college now, and she still helps me make pies. Last year she made two aprons for me for my birthday. On the front, with liquid embroidery, she had written "Grandma" on one and "Sarah" on the other. They both hang in the pantry so we can use them whenever we make pies together.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
20 Things Children Truly Need for School
It's been just over a year since I last posted, and we are well over two months into the school year. Unbelievable. Having two school-aged kids will do that to you I suppose...the years just start to speed up, and before you know it, the kids are taller and smarter than you ever imagined.
The following article was printed in the Evansville Courier and Press, and forwarded to me by a dear friend. It's chock full of pearls, so I contacted the author and asked her permission to post this. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
Here are the 20 things kids really need to start school...
SHARON RANDALL, Scripps Howard
Sunday, August 31, 2008
A friend e-mailed me a story she couldn't wait to tell me. She'd gone out to fetch the newspaper when she saw two little girls — ages 5 and 7, she guessed — all dressed up for the first day of school. And their dad was snapping their picture.
"It caused me to reflect on when my kids started school," she wrote. "That first day was a mixed bag, because if you were a mom with the kids in the house all summer, you were looking forward to some peace and quiet. But in the same vein, it was another year gone. ..."
Reading her note, I suddenly realized I never made pictures of my kids on their first day of school. What was I thinking?
Wait. I remember. I was thinking, "Please, God, help me get them in the car because my oldest can't find his shoes, and my youngest threw up, and my daughter hates how I braided her hair. And if we don't leave now we're going to be late because I might kill them. And, God? Please let the car start."
Motherhood is indeed a "mixed bag," not just on the first day of school.
From the day they are born, we start pushing them out of the nest with one hand and pulling them back with the other.
I don't have pictures of my children on their first days of school, but I have memories. I wish you could see them.
Last year in a column, I listed what I think children need for school. Many of you requested a reprint of that list. So here again, thank you, are "20 things children truly need for school."
1. A No. 2 pencil and a willingness to erase.
2. A respect for themselves and others, especially their teachers.
3. An awareness that the world does not revolve around them, and that they alone are responsible for their actions.
4. Parents (or grandparents) who teach by example a love for reading, learning and life.
5. An assurance that school is a good, safe place, their teachers will like them, and their parents won't leave town without them.
6. An understanding that school is their "job" and no one else can or will do it for them.
7. A system for exchanging communication between school and home; a backpack for notes; an emergency phone number that always answers; a quiet place and time to do homework; a daily chance to read aloud and to be read to.
8. A plan for getting to and from school on time.
9. A pet to care for.
10. A public library card.
11. Someone to welcome them home, laugh at their jokes, answer their questions and listen to what they say and don't say.
12. The power of knowing how it feels to give anonymously and sacrificially to help someone less fortunate.
13. The encouragement to try new things, the freedom to fail and the chance to try again.
14. The gifts of being well- fed, well-rested, well-mannered and well-covered for medical, dental and after-school care.
15. The confidence to deal with bullies (stand up straight, look them in the eye, don't start a fight — but don't back down), how to ask questions (raise your hand and wait to be called on) and to never stop asking questions, especially "Why?"
16. To be the best, or at least pretty good, at something, and to know that it's OK not to be good at everything.
17. To spend more time with humans and less with machines.
18. To have nothing to do once in a while but daydream.
19. To have someone love them unconditionally, regardless of their grades; someone to "beam" at them, to light up when they walk into the room.
20. They need to know that school won't last forever, but learning is a lifelong process.
And even if their mom forgets to take pictures, she'll always think they look pretty cute.
Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777394, Henderson, NV 89077, or at www.sharonrandall.com.
The following article was printed in the Evansville Courier and Press, and forwarded to me by a dear friend. It's chock full of pearls, so I contacted the author and asked her permission to post this. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
Here are the 20 things kids really need to start school...
SHARON RANDALL, Scripps Howard
Sunday, August 31, 2008
A friend e-mailed me a story she couldn't wait to tell me. She'd gone out to fetch the newspaper when she saw two little girls — ages 5 and 7, she guessed — all dressed up for the first day of school. And their dad was snapping their picture.
"It caused me to reflect on when my kids started school," she wrote. "That first day was a mixed bag, because if you were a mom with the kids in the house all summer, you were looking forward to some peace and quiet. But in the same vein, it was another year gone. ..."
Reading her note, I suddenly realized I never made pictures of my kids on their first day of school. What was I thinking?
Wait. I remember. I was thinking, "Please, God, help me get them in the car because my oldest can't find his shoes, and my youngest threw up, and my daughter hates how I braided her hair. And if we don't leave now we're going to be late because I might kill them. And, God? Please let the car start."
Motherhood is indeed a "mixed bag," not just on the first day of school.
From the day they are born, we start pushing them out of the nest with one hand and pulling them back with the other.
I don't have pictures of my children on their first days of school, but I have memories. I wish you could see them.
Last year in a column, I listed what I think children need for school. Many of you requested a reprint of that list. So here again, thank you, are "20 things children truly need for school."
1. A No. 2 pencil and a willingness to erase.
2. A respect for themselves and others, especially their teachers.
3. An awareness that the world does not revolve around them, and that they alone are responsible for their actions.
4. Parents (or grandparents) who teach by example a love for reading, learning and life.
5. An assurance that school is a good, safe place, their teachers will like them, and their parents won't leave town without them.
6. An understanding that school is their "job" and no one else can or will do it for them.
7. A system for exchanging communication between school and home; a backpack for notes; an emergency phone number that always answers; a quiet place and time to do homework; a daily chance to read aloud and to be read to.
8. A plan for getting to and from school on time.
9. A pet to care for.
10. A public library card.
11. Someone to welcome them home, laugh at their jokes, answer their questions and listen to what they say and don't say.
12. The power of knowing how it feels to give anonymously and sacrificially to help someone less fortunate.
13. The encouragement to try new things, the freedom to fail and the chance to try again.
14. The gifts of being well- fed, well-rested, well-mannered and well-covered for medical, dental and after-school care.
15. The confidence to deal with bullies (stand up straight, look them in the eye, don't start a fight — but don't back down), how to ask questions (raise your hand and wait to be called on) and to never stop asking questions, especially "Why?"
16. To be the best, or at least pretty good, at something, and to know that it's OK not to be good at everything.
17. To spend more time with humans and less with machines.
18. To have nothing to do once in a while but daydream.
19. To have someone love them unconditionally, regardless of their grades; someone to "beam" at them, to light up when they walk into the room.
20. They need to know that school won't last forever, but learning is a lifelong process.
And even if their mom forgets to take pictures, she'll always think they look pretty cute.
Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777394, Henderson, NV 89077, or at www.sharonrandall.com.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Foster Dad
Jamie Jones M.D. was one of the original inspirations for this blog. Not only has he raised numerous foster children, but he raised them as a single dad. Through the years, I've listened to his many stories of wisdom about raising his kids, and now his many grandchildren. Here are a couple of his pearls...
Teenage Lies:
“Dad, I’m so sorry I’m late. Honestly, we were at the dance and left in plenty of time to get everyone home by their curfews, but on the way home we got a flat tire. We couldn’t really see very well in the dark, and no one had a flash light. We finally felt our way around the trunk, got out the spare and then realized Jack didn’t have a spare to use. So we called Triple A, waited for them to come, which took forever, then had to drive the girls home first and the other kids and I’m the last before Sam headed home.”
“Son, you’re not telling the truth.”
“What gives dad? I’m telling you the truth.”
“Son, I don’t know you are lying, but you know you are. No one who is telling the truth goes into all that detail. Truth tellers just say we got a flat tire, but all the additions you make tell me that even though I don’t know you are lying, you know you are lying and you are trying to cover up something.”
I have had several foster children. Each time a new child arrived, I had to integrate them into our family and try to get them interested in some pretty unusual interests: mine. Often the stereotyped interests, at least for guys, are pretty basic: sports and cars. But I have an interest in art and theater, and being on a resident’s salary meant that my kids needed to go with me if those interests were to be allowed. So whenever we went on vacation, we’d visit the local art museums. This is how my kids would earn trip money. We’d enter the museum and for every painting that they knew the painter, they’d get a quarter. If they knew the country of the painter—another quarter, and if they knew the type of painting, impressionism etc., they’d get another quarter. If they didn’t know the answer, they lost a nickel. As you well know, most museums have several works by an artist close to each other. So even without a trained eye, after seeing one painting and learning the country and epoch, the rest is an easy redundancy. When the kids didn’t know the work, I’d have the opportunity to describe it. Sure, the child might have lost 15 cents, but then could gain it back and then some with the other paintings nearby. I did this for years and my kids would always love to go to the museum. Sure, at first, it was because they earned money, but gradually they ended up becoming familiar with so many of the paintings, and over time they’d ask to go to the museums without any mention of allowance. As the years progressed I’d change the deal, a nickel for each they knew, a quarter off for ones they missed. They all ended up with quite an appreciation of art. Now, years later, often when we visit cities, our first stop is a museum. My kids are all adults now, but now their kids are busy earning their trip allowances in the art museums!
Teenage Lies:
“Dad, I’m so sorry I’m late. Honestly, we were at the dance and left in plenty of time to get everyone home by their curfews, but on the way home we got a flat tire. We couldn’t really see very well in the dark, and no one had a flash light. We finally felt our way around the trunk, got out the spare and then realized Jack didn’t have a spare to use. So we called Triple A, waited for them to come, which took forever, then had to drive the girls home first and the other kids and I’m the last before Sam headed home.”
“Son, you’re not telling the truth.”
“What gives dad? I’m telling you the truth.”
“Son, I don’t know you are lying, but you know you are. No one who is telling the truth goes into all that detail. Truth tellers just say we got a flat tire, but all the additions you make tell me that even though I don’t know you are lying, you know you are lying and you are trying to cover up something.”
I have had several foster children. Each time a new child arrived, I had to integrate them into our family and try to get them interested in some pretty unusual interests: mine. Often the stereotyped interests, at least for guys, are pretty basic: sports and cars. But I have an interest in art and theater, and being on a resident’s salary meant that my kids needed to go with me if those interests were to be allowed. So whenever we went on vacation, we’d visit the local art museums. This is how my kids would earn trip money. We’d enter the museum and for every painting that they knew the painter, they’d get a quarter. If they knew the country of the painter—another quarter, and if they knew the type of painting, impressionism etc., they’d get another quarter. If they didn’t know the answer, they lost a nickel. As you well know, most museums have several works by an artist close to each other. So even without a trained eye, after seeing one painting and learning the country and epoch, the rest is an easy redundancy. When the kids didn’t know the work, I’d have the opportunity to describe it. Sure, the child might have lost 15 cents, but then could gain it back and then some with the other paintings nearby. I did this for years and my kids would always love to go to the museum. Sure, at first, it was because they earned money, but gradually they ended up becoming familiar with so many of the paintings, and over time they’d ask to go to the museums without any mention of allowance. As the years progressed I’d change the deal, a nickel for each they knew, a quarter off for ones they missed. They all ended up with quite an appreciation of art. Now, years later, often when we visit cities, our first stop is a museum. My kids are all adults now, but now their kids are busy earning their trip allowances in the art museums!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Divorce
I have a friend who is loving, balanced, insightful, and an overall great human being. Her parents divorced while raising their family. Her mom, Joyce, grandmother of ten, offered this advice about how to minimize the impact of divorce for all involved:
"Keeping the focus on the origin of our problem helped maintain as much harmony for the family as possible.
In short, the adult relationship was the root of our issues, not the children and family unit. We did not want to make our divorce the childrens' problem.
Remembering this vital distinction allowed us to come together as a family, even after we each re-married. Dissolving the marriage also allowed us to re-unite in friendship."
"Keeping the focus on the origin of our problem helped maintain as much harmony for the family as possible.
In short, the adult relationship was the root of our issues, not the children and family unit. We did not want to make our divorce the childrens' problem.
Remembering this vital distinction allowed us to come together as a family, even after we each re-married. Dissolving the marriage also allowed us to re-unite in friendship."
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