suffer the little children

The sad news from Newtown, CT, is mind-boggling.  I struggle to recall any comparable incident from our youth, at least in the schools.  If it happened, it was an isolated incident, nowhere near a school zone, and carried out as a recurring event in multiple locations.

We were safe because assault weapons didn't exist.  Perhaps the greatest predator was polio, and when the Salk vaccine was introduced I recall lining up for a shot in Mason City.  My mother was like any other concerned parent who wanted to seize the opportunity to protect her children.

The nation responded to Salk's discovery.  And now I wonder if the nation will successfully respond to the slate of gun violence over the past 15 years.  As a gun owner, I have no problem with eliminating the type of weapons used in Newtown, or the 30-round clips that were used.

As a former teacher/administrator I find it ludicrous that some individuals including a congressman in Minnesota, are advocating for teachers and administrators having weapons available to them.  The fellow from Minnesota has claimed that knowing the school has weapons inside would keep the perpetrator away.

Really?  Let's see, the fellow in Newtown who obviously was not of the right mind would be rational enough to pick a different school?  Or the kids who shot up Columbine?  In their case the greater likelihood is that they would seek out the teacher they knew to be carrying, get the jump and eliminate him before carrying out their carnage elsewhere.

There are no simple solutions, and let's be clear that none of the massacres from Oak Creek, Aurora, Columbine, Portland, or now Newtown are acceptable, but at last we have found our lowest common denominator in Newtown, helpless 6-year-olds who may lift us to take action.

A solution was found for Polio, and a solution, complex as it may be with multiple parts, can be put together to reduce or hopefully eliminate this guy violence.  I hope.

are you listening, grandma?

Merrilee Reid forwarded this photo, which speaks all too well to the generation gap.  And by the way, this is gender-neutral even though Grandma is mentioned.

I'm discovering that young folks don't email each other - they use Facebook or texting.  I watch my granddaughter type out a text with her thumbs even faster than I can type it on a keyboard.

I turn to Grandson #1 for assistance with iTunes.  And my 10-year-old grandson put together a PowerPoint for his dad's Lions Club that was superior to any that I have done.

So then I stopped to ask myself what it was that I taught my own grandparents.

Nothing.  I taught them nothing.  But I perhaps showed them my double heel-click.  Maybe.

What Grandkids Teach Us

My Grandson, Bryan, is now a freshman at Luther College.  When he was about 5 years old we went for a bike ride on the Red Cedar Trail near Menomonie, WI.  He was riding a bicycle that once probably had training wheels - and rode the entire 7 miles of the trail that day, always in the lead, his short little legs pumping like crazy.

The Red Cedar is an old railroad bed like so many bike trails, following along the river of the same name, and the bridge is a neat place to stop and rest, watch the water flow below or spit into it, throw rocks, or in the case of a 5-year-old, skip merrily across the bridge.  You don't forget days like this, and as the youngsters grow to the point of high school graduation and heading off to the next level there is the sudden realization - there you were, 50 years ago.

Bryan is a musician who loves to perform.  A solo in front of an auditorium full of people is performed with confidence.  Nerves of steel.  But on a day last December when he wanted to buy some clothing and we walked into Amundson's in Decorah, his knees turned to jelly.  He's just not used to decision-making in a clothing world that means more than baggy jeans and sweatshirts or tees.

We're also talking kind of serious money for the clothing you might want to wear somewhere other than showing up at jazz band practice, another part of the decision-making process.  And that's not the only thing that would concern him.

In December, 1994, two months before he turned two, I was in Madison, WI, where I saw and picked up a pair of red and white striped overalls, the kind with Bucky Badger on the bib.  I thought they were so cool, the perfect Christmas gift for a cheesehead.  He didn't.  He felt them, got this yuck look on his face, and only wore them one time because his mother made him.  If the fabric doesn't feel just right for him, the article is useless.

So combining his idiosyncrasies and his inexperience makes the Decorah mission interesting.  Yeah, been there, done that, but that was me.  This trip into the clothing store was a convergence of sorts, like his first time out of the box, yet it was a heartfelt commitment on his part.  He just knew he needed an upgrade, even though he wasn't sure what that meant.

But he's a wise kid, wise enough to know he can lean on people he trusts when he makes decisions, and even wiser in choosing quality people to associate with - and trust.  He is open to discussing his goals and objectives, seeks input, seeks learning, and seeks advice, from friends, teachers, family on all matters, including clothing.

Later that evening in December we talked at length about the challenges he was facing, how he was working to finesse the time demands while considering a higher level of classwork and how it could fit in, if at all.  He's already shown a propensity for good thinking and linear work in his writing, and this course could further refine those talents.  He talked through the pros and cons of our challenges without being defensive since for all practical purposes he had already made his decision, and it was a good one.

Home at Christmas, he weighed in on the limitations of the education and training received in high school, his disappointment that certain instructors left the door open for him to lay out his own training, instead of challenging him to compete and learn at a higher level.  He had concern the instructor had failed him, largely due to his own limitation to be able to push Bryan to do more and be better.  The college experience is drawing it into focus.

He also brought home his December shopping success: dress pants, long-sleeved shirt, and v-necked sweater, as if to say, "Grandpa, I'm growing up now."

Perhaps it's the same personal growth and maturation your parents were hoping to see from you those 50 years ago.  For me, the hope is that he mimics any good decisions I may have made, and avoids the bad ones, and so far he's way ahead of my schedule.  What I've learned during the process is that there are no do-overs, except today to have the joy of watching someone you love who takes it to the next level.

There we were 50 years ago, making our way in a world of decision-making, with or without good advice, with consequences that were sometimes good, sometimes not so good.  Watching Bryan has allowed me to see myself revisit the process from afar, Alice through the looking glass.  Wishing that I could fully protect him, I am silently glad that I cannot.  Instead, I just learn about me.

One Last Holiday Greeting

The Hendrickson Clan on Holiday

We got this pleasant surprise today - an email from Janis with their Holiday greeting photo of their beautiful family.  They spent Christmas with the whole clan in Bradenton, FL.  What better site for a Christmas photo than a sandy beach?  We can tell it's not along the Shell Rock or at the Worth County Park - if that still exists.

We could congratulate Chuck for thinking of this and putting it together, but the rightful congratulations would be to say it's a darn good thing he married a woman with some creativity.  Click the picture for a larger view.

Lonna and I are heading for the Bradenton area for the month of April and Chuck and Janis expect to be there again at the same time so we look forward to hooking up with them.  And a Happy New Year to all of you!

Our Family is Growing Up

Many of you have already been here, done this.

My oldest grandson spent his first night at college last night, at Luther in Decorah.  He's been looking forward to it and I am hopeful he takes full advantage of the opportunities he will be seeing.  And I'm thinking I might get a new sweatshirt out of the deal.

His mother was a bit tearful about this life change, while there, on the way home, and when they stopped to see us today.  Reminded me of her mother 28 years ago.  It's a woman thing, you know.