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The Flag

            “I get to call her!” My voice shouted as I scrambled to the phone. “Hi, Grandmother, Get Out Your Flag!!!”

Every summer we took turns spending two weeks in Oakland with my Grandmother. Never granny or gram, we were allowed to speak only proper English in her presence. Somewhere in her life she chose to be called Elizabeth instead of her given first name, Mary, “Because there were more queens in England with the name Elizabeth.” Visiting Grandmother would be extra special this particular year because I would get to fly from Chico to San Francisco all by myself. Last year’s visit, when I was nine, I had to ride the Greyhound bus and it took about a hundred hours to get to there.

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Every Day You Get To Be Happy


 Heroes can be anybody. Lots of famous people are referred to as heroes because of their great world-changing deeds. My hero changes the world one person at a time. He is my husband and best friend, Michael.

Greek literature defines a hero as a demi-god, the offspring of a human and a god. Perseus slew Medusa. Theseus battled and defeated the Minotaur. Prometheus stole fire for the world. Famous heroes triumph over evil, save humanity, and utilize extraordinary strength and courage. A hero is a guardian of humanity who puts aside his own safety and exercises bravery uncommon to mere mortals. Batman and Robin were protectors of the weak and defenders of all that is good in Gotham City. Underdog, Superman and Spiderman were some of the heroes we grew up with. They were faster than speeding bullets, more powerful than a locomotive and, of course, were always there when you were in a pinch. Heroes are not afraid to slay dragons and villains of any shape, size or origin. 

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Dealing with the Paradigm of Drug Education

I hate drugs. I believe that alcohol, marijuana, meth, all mind-altering drugs will poison families and ultimately destroy one’s soul. Drugs are destroying the fabric of our society.

Thirty years ago I lived by the assumption that all parents wanted what was best for their children. I was raised with skeletons in my family’s closet so I was not under the assumption that families all worked smoothly. However, I did think that a mother and father would put her child’s welfare in highest priority. Lightning and storm clouds soon chased away my clear vision of what families were and how I was supposed to relate to them.

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Sewing with Grandmother

            I am usually afraid. I can’t think of many times in my life when I was not afraid. Be strong, never cry, show no weakness were the teachings of my family. “You are smart enough o do anything you want in life.” were words that were spoken often by my mother. I don’t know when I decided that it was okay to be like my mom. I don’t have all of my mother’s qualities because I am afraid often.

My mom loved to cook, still does. She was a better cook before the invent of no-fat foods and the watching of cholesterol. The house was clean, we were taught to think, question and use our brains. Mom never worked in the yard and she never sewed, but she could knit. The thing is that mom is amazing in a lot of ways. Always together, always strong and never afraid of a challenge.

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This is a paper in response to:

Learning to Teach Writing: Practicing Research for Researching Practice
Salzman Center Literacy Award Ceremony
Hofstra University
April 26, 2005

Patricia Lambert Stock
Professor of Writing, Rhetoric, and American Cultures
Professor of English, and
Adjunct Professor of Education
Michigan State University

Response to Literature
The Making of a Teacher Researcher


                Professor Stock has an easy writing style – speaking style. This paper seems to be a copy of a speech that she made at an award ceremony. Beginning with a description of her teacher training, or lack thereof. I found the idea of training in the 60’s to be almost embarrassing, like teaching was not an actual career, merely a fanciful playtime that resulted in a paycheck. The training I received in 1979 was much more rigorous and professional.

                This said, Professor Stock’s first year experiences were not unlike my own. She had only 180 hours of student teaching in comparison to my 170 days. I still felt ill prepared for the challenges of working with a diverse group of 35 fourth graders. She was placed in a classroom where the teacher had resigned, I was also in a class in which the teacher transferred so he could avoid them. Professor Stock told a story of her awakening in the art of teaching and communicating. She gave an account of learning to learn from her student as a beginning to her career long quest of educational inquiry of refining the art of teaching.

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Family Story to Pass On

Our babies were little. Marcus was only three, Cody and Kyle were one. It was the fourth of July and our family was meeting for their annual family vacation at Lake Almanor. Mom and dad had a “cabin” on the lake and we all converged with our growing families to spend the week together. The “cabin” had only two bedrooms, this year one for my family and one for my brother’s family. My sister, Karen, was bringing her boyfriend, Jeff (currently husband of twenty years). My parents stayed in the converted garage apartment where they could have quiet and escape our late night games.

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