Of course! But like you don't want to crush her like a lump of coal turning into a diamond either, right? Just saying, I do not envy needing to walk this tightrope. Parents have it tough.
Oh I'm not an ass about it :) I take a firm, not hard, approach. It's interesting watching them realize how much it helps them when they see another kid bitching about nothing and they point it out.
Speaking of, this reminds me of my first history teacher in Denmark (9th grade, an international school called Rygaards), Mr Murphy.
He was generally a very entertaining character.
But one day, he was telling us about the battle of Dien Bien Phu between the Vietnamese and French forces.
One girl, Vinnie, kept chatting to her friend throughout.
At one point, right in the middle of his speech, without pausing or warning, Mr. Murphy banged his open palm on the desk, really hard, and sharply said "VINNIE..."
Many of us jolted up at the near-jump-scare. Vinnie stopped talking and stared at him as well.
Mr. Murphy held a pause, then completed in the same calm tone as before:
"...remember Dien Bien Phu."
And for what it's worth, I still remember it, or at least this very episode related to it.
I like it. The seriousness of the lesson demands some attention be paid to it, or at least it's nice to be solemn when discussing a consequential event where lots of people died.
OTOH, this can go way, way too far, and forcing people to pay attention only goes so far. Therefore, more clever stuff like this is going to cause my ears to perk up, even if I don't copy the specific idea one day.
True. This wasn't particularly in-character for him, as he was otherwise strict but also entertaining, which is why it worked.
What he did enjoy doing is giving us "pop quizes" that didn't really test our knowledge as much as make us think laterally about stuff, like the true funny story I once wrote about on Nest Expressed: https://nest-expressed.com/2012/03/18/last-wish/
I'll probably move it over to the Substack version one day.
That's a fun story! I love this kind of exercise, and wish more teaching was like this. The goal of school is often framed as a way to teach people specific marketable skills for their careers, but I think it's far more valuable as a way to help people learn to think. Doing little exercises like that very much lines up with this second objective, just like Mr Oberly (the math teacher I mentioned).
We felt we had enough for a baseball game if there were 5 people on each side, some covering multiple positions. This helped improve situational awareness and running. Not having an ump put responsibility on the team “captains”, who usually made reasonable decisions (There were some fights). We were fortunate to use the little league park on weekday mornings and afternoons. It was a couple minute bike ride away.
How about suck it up, buttercup? I have a vivid memory of a little league drill where we had to hold our arms up for 5 minutes and we were all like hahaha that's tooo easy coach! And it wasn't
I actually had "suck it up, buttercup" typed up and even italicized, but decided against it because it messed up the language flow. Schroedinger's Goat has me still contemplating that, and one version of me left "buttercup" in today's piece. Maybe that other version of you pointed out that it was too wordy and shouldn't have been included, since it messed up the word flow.
Holding your arms up for five minutes (like out in front of you) is really hard! Ever do a "wall sit" or "Sampson's press" up against a wall? Like a minute has you shaking and trembling.
I grew up playing little league baseball in Amherst County. The coach drove a burgundy Isuzu trooper and chain-smoked cigarettes during practice and games. Gatorade had just introduced their trademark green water bottle with the orange pull-top lid. The 5-gallon igloo "glug jug" was the only water I remember being in the dugout. My mother died convinced that every season's first practice was spent teaching us to spit and slide. We wore white baseball pants with green and yellow jerseys on a red clay field. According to the game's unwritten rules, if you didn't come home covered in red clay, you lost, regardless of the score or the fact the team only had one loss in three years. We are all the better for it.
Scott, that brings up a really good point about wanting to go home with those markers of toughness, like the skid marks you could only get by sliding in the clay. I'll be thinking about this with the back of my mind for a bit.
Once upon a time, baseball players would use a technique called a "spitball", involving throwing a ball covered with expectoration. It was thought to be an aid to a smooth throw, but it was also considered an unfair advantage and eventually the majors banned it.
So when your coach said "Swallow your spit", he might have been trying to convince you not to create a spitball.
I'm working with my daughter on this. Namely, you can feel tired and thirsty and push through for a few more minutes without dying.
Do you find it tough to balance the two instincts, to protect and to prepare, if I may be alliterative?
To prepare is to protect.
Of course! But like you don't want to crush her like a lump of coal turning into a diamond either, right? Just saying, I do not envy needing to walk this tightrope. Parents have it tough.
Oh I'm not an ass about it :) I take a firm, not hard, approach. It's interesting watching them realize how much it helps them when they see another kid bitching about nothing and they point it out.
I must say, the specificity of something as evocative as "Swallow your spit" just sticks better than a generic "Suck it up, dude."
Every now and then, you need something crude. It really sticks in your mind.
I try to use this (within reason) with students. If something makes them chuckle or raise an eyebrow, they're more likely to remember it.
Speaking of, this reminds me of my first history teacher in Denmark (9th grade, an international school called Rygaards), Mr Murphy.
He was generally a very entertaining character.
But one day, he was telling us about the battle of Dien Bien Phu between the Vietnamese and French forces.
One girl, Vinnie, kept chatting to her friend throughout.
At one point, right in the middle of his speech, without pausing or warning, Mr. Murphy banged his open palm on the desk, really hard, and sharply said "VINNIE..."
Many of us jolted up at the near-jump-scare. Vinnie stopped talking and stared at him as well.
Mr. Murphy held a pause, then completed in the same calm tone as before:
"...remember Dien Bien Phu."
And for what it's worth, I still remember it, or at least this very episode related to it.
I like it. The seriousness of the lesson demands some attention be paid to it, or at least it's nice to be solemn when discussing a consequential event where lots of people died.
OTOH, this can go way, way too far, and forcing people to pay attention only goes so far. Therefore, more clever stuff like this is going to cause my ears to perk up, even if I don't copy the specific idea one day.
True. This wasn't particularly in-character for him, as he was otherwise strict but also entertaining, which is why it worked.
What he did enjoy doing is giving us "pop quizes" that didn't really test our knowledge as much as make us think laterally about stuff, like the true funny story I once wrote about on Nest Expressed: https://nest-expressed.com/2012/03/18/last-wish/
I'll probably move it over to the Substack version one day.
That's a fun story! I love this kind of exercise, and wish more teaching was like this. The goal of school is often framed as a way to teach people specific marketable skills for their careers, but I think it's far more valuable as a way to help people learn to think. Doing little exercises like that very much lines up with this second objective, just like Mr Oberly (the math teacher I mentioned).
We felt we had enough for a baseball game if there were 5 people on each side, some covering multiple positions. This helped improve situational awareness and running. Not having an ump put responsibility on the team “captains”, who usually made reasonable decisions (There were some fights). We were fortunate to use the little league park on weekday mornings and afternoons. It was a couple minute bike ride away.
It was really tough for us to get 10 kids together to travel to a field, but we definitely did stuff like this, too.
At our park there wold always be kids “hanging around” waiting to join a game. Wasn’t much else to do but go fishing…
How about suck it up, buttercup? I have a vivid memory of a little league drill where we had to hold our arms up for 5 minutes and we were all like hahaha that's tooo easy coach! And it wasn't
I actually had "suck it up, buttercup" typed up and even italicized, but decided against it because it messed up the language flow. Schroedinger's Goat has me still contemplating that, and one version of me left "buttercup" in today's piece. Maybe that other version of you pointed out that it was too wordy and shouldn't have been included, since it messed up the word flow.
Holding your arms up for five minutes (like out in front of you) is really hard! Ever do a "wall sit" or "Sampson's press" up against a wall? Like a minute has you shaking and trembling.
Swallow your spit def hits harder at least in this fork. Yeah I did the Sampson thing once, maybe I should do it again?
Sure! Try it right now and let me know how far you get.
Coffee first
What are you even doing today? I'm on like cup 4!
lol you gotta few hours on me
I grew up playing little league baseball in Amherst County. The coach drove a burgundy Isuzu trooper and chain-smoked cigarettes during practice and games. Gatorade had just introduced their trademark green water bottle with the orange pull-top lid. The 5-gallon igloo "glug jug" was the only water I remember being in the dugout. My mother died convinced that every season's first practice was spent teaching us to spit and slide. We wore white baseball pants with green and yellow jerseys on a red clay field. According to the game's unwritten rules, if you didn't come home covered in red clay, you lost, regardless of the score or the fact the team only had one loss in three years. We are all the better for it.
Scott, that brings up a really good point about wanting to go home with those markers of toughness, like the skid marks you could only get by sliding in the clay. I'll be thinking about this with the back of my mind for a bit.
Once upon a time, baseball players would use a technique called a "spitball", involving throwing a ball covered with expectoration. It was thought to be an aid to a smooth throw, but it was also considered an unfair advantage and eventually the majors banned it.
So when your coach said "Swallow your spit", he might have been trying to convince you not to create a spitball.
He certainly wasn't doing this, but I am certainly familiar with spitballs! They were 100% illegal back then.