In The Routine

      One of the realities of this being my ninth year teaching here is that I'm gradually gaining seniority among the teaching staff.  As staff members retire I gain seniority over the new hires.  It amused me today when one of the student teachers told me where I could sit, etc.,  as if I were the new kid on the block.  While I miss teachers who have left the new, younger. teachers' English is much better and thus they are willing to engage me in conversation.  The older teacher's habit of leaving the room as soon as I begin has deprived them of the opportunity to improve their English.
     Teaching grades 3-6, as I do means that the current 6th graders are now in their 4th year with me.  When I taught them yesterday I was pleased to discover that they had retained much from what I taught previously.  That was brought home as I taught the 3rd grade today noting the contrast with the sixth grade.  There are 25 students in grade 3, so I'm working hard at learning their names...which also entails challenges in pronunciation.
     While I now have a bed in "my" house...no more sleeping on the floor...the mattress has little give and my pillow is as hard as a brick. There is no air conditioning where I sleep but I do have a fan.  Consequently, I'm up early, about 5:00, breakfast at 7:00,  off to school at 7:30, teach one session from 8:30-9:30 and another from 10:00-11:00, lunch with teachers at 11:30 and then have the afternoon at home.  Often I take the family out for dinner...about the price of McDonalds...which is an usual treat for them,  That's my typical daily routine.

I think the caps are cute.

           From my right: Wid, new 6th gr. tchr., 4 student teachers near me, Aaronsee, 1st Grade teacher, Phosee, Principal

I like the old, wood school and hope the new concrete doesn't open soon.

The new, picket fence around my house keeps 20 mo, old, Nice, away from the snake that ate the cat.

The 'skeleton' house next door has upstairs finished but no one is living there.

Inerpreting Slang

      English has an unusual number of words plus many slang expressions.  Every day at the school's opening exercises an " English word of the day" is presented.  Today it was 'hang out'.  This intrigued the more curious teachers and they asked me to explain.
     Given our language issues it wasn't easy but I think I was successful.  "No, it doesn't mean to 'hang someone'"...I explained to the teacher with her hands around her throat.  Eventually both the noun meaning and the verb usage resonated.  It seems slang usages are often the most difficult to explain.  Of course it would be easier if I knew the Thai equivalent.

To Give and Recieve

     Perhaps it's the perfect volunteer jig.  Most weekday mornings in America find me at Noble Academy, a Hmong Charter school, doing accelerated reading with small groups of fifth and sixth graders. They love to read but because of their family's recent arrival in America and inexperience with English their vocabulary is small.   Reading together is an opportunity to learn new words and gives me the opportunity to teach a variety of subjects, e.g., history.
    For several years I've volunteered at Noble.  Neal Thou, the founder and director of Noble, has been fascinated by my volunteer work in Thailand.  On one of his trips to Asia he visited the "my" school and talked to some of the teachers.  This year he sent gifts from Noble to Samakee Pakaran, i.e., "my" School.  Today I presented those gifts to the school. (See pictures below.)
    It was a very nice gesture from Neal.  An immediate result was a helpful conversation with the principal of Samakee Pakaran.  In addition to a Noble School uniform sweater and shirt he included several Noble yearbooks.  Phousee, the principal examined the yearbooks in detail.  She is personally progressive but she had never heard of classroom intervention specialists; i.e., persons whose  job is to take students requiring remedial help out of the classroom to work one on one.  Here the academically challenged sink or swim in the classroom and mostly sink.
   We spent my entire half hour break discussing educational philosophy and the English Language. As she perused the yearbooks she'd check pronunciations and meanings.  She is intent on improving her English.

Holding the Noble sweater.

Principal Phosee opening the gifts.

Looking at the gifts while teacher, Aaonsee, is explaining to the students.

Students listen in more or less rapt attention.

It Was A Mob Scene!

     Walking unto the school yard this morning students came running from all corners to greet me.  Perhaps it was my moment as a rock star.  A few changes in the teaching staff includes a new, young...31 years old...6th grade teacher with good English skills.  She will be helpful in upgrading the level of English awareness among the staff.  Some of the senior teachers have little interest in English.  The principal, now in her second year, is interested in advancing the school but is frustrated with the institutional inertia.
     The 25 third graders are new to me so I'm working hard on learning their names.  Fortunately they all have short nicknames, some of which I struggle to pronounce.  Maybe I'll just call one girl 'George' in lieu of her real name, which, every time I try sends the class into paroxysms of laughter.  Having 24 students yelling her name at me doesn't help a bit.  My, they are a lovely bunch, too.  We have a lot of fun but I have high expectations that they will pay attention...which is not always assumed by the teachers.
      There were twenty + students in my 5th grade room, all except one of whom I had last year.  The majority of them I could call by name because I've had them for two previous years.   The twins in the room I still  cannot tell apart though their class mates can.

Morning flag raising,

5th graders...I always draw a crowd as I wait for a ride.

"George" is on the left.

Amanda Lee wanted me pictured riding a motorcycle.

All WAS Revealed!

    Staying true to my mantra I asked no questions.  There were a couple of hints.  While buying gas for the car yesterday it was said "It will be a long trip tomorrow."  This morning I'd just settled down with me lap top about 7:00 when I was told to get ready to leave because it's a long way...and it was 300 km one way.  The end points were a cave in some karst mountains, and, another hour on, botanical gardens.
    After spending about an half hour at each site we headed home.  There was nothing to do at the cave but climb some steps and look in.  The flower gardens were past their peak now in the dry season.
   The roads are clogged with huge trucks loaded with sugar cane.  Much of the trip was on six lane divided highway and the roads and signage are good.  Traffic was heavy on the return trip.
    Eating dinner out is very special for "my" family, something they do not do when I'm not here.  We headed to one of our favorite spots called "See The Boat" on the Chao Praya River, Thailand's major river.  We were disappointed.  Apparently it has changed hands since last year and neither the food nor the service were good.
   Tomorrow I arise to begin my tenth year of teaching in Thailand the ninth year at Wat Klang.  Yes, I'm excited.

In Ayutthaya Now 1/27/17

      When I was reserving airline tickets I checked the box that said "flexible dates".  That choice got me a very cheap ticket...yes, round trip...but meant that I arrived in Thailand several days before I begin teaching.  Four days in Bangkok gave me time to get over jet lag and adjust to tropical heat...which took me ten minutes.
    Bangkok has a good Skytrain (elevated) that is very easy to navigate and adds length every year I return.  Using the Skytrain I visited various parts of the city.  Exiting the train I would explore the neighborhood on foot then use the train to return to my hotel which is a near a stop.
   Usually I stay at the Bangkok Christian Guesthouse (BCGH) but they were full so I booked the hotel next door, LeSiam, formerly The Swiss Lodge.  It cost about $15.00 more a day but their fabulous breakfast was almost worth it.  At the BCGH it's fried eggs one day and poached the next, repeat...
    This is the first time I've carried a laptop so I thought I'd use the in-room safe.  However, it wouldn't open later when I tried.  It took the hotel staff 45 minutes to open it...some comfort in that...and they said it was fixed. NOT...the next time it took and hour and a half to open.
     The Bangkok skyline is filled with construction cranes erecting many new skyscrapers.  It appears to be a building boom.
     A Bangkok billboard advertising Toyota proclaims "YOU ARE WHAT YOU DRIVE".  That makes me a 2005 Honda Element!
     The hour mini-bus drive from Bangkok to Ayutthaya is a tour of Thailand's industrial center.  Not at all the beautiful tropical scenes often associated with the country.
     "My" Thai family gave me a warm welcome back for my eighth year.  Nice is now twenty months old and full of energy.  I'll include pictures soon.  They've made plans for an outing tomorrow,  Sunday, but, evoking my mantra "all will be revealed" I'll find out in due time.
    Monday will be my first day at school...9th year there and 10th of teaching here.
  It is my intention to blog regularly now.

    

Alone via Story Worth 1/20/18

     When have I felt most alone and how did I handle it?

     Loneliness is very interesting and not very well understood in our world. Typically it is understood as something to be avoided and as negative. It certainly can be painful and unpleasant, i.e., lonely 😊. But more properly understood it should be embraced as one ‘leans into it’. A fully functioning, differentiated adult will be lonely because he/she stands alone taking full responsibility for his/her actions. It is lonely to be an adult. Often persons attempt to avoid the discomfort of loneliness by fusing with another. This is an unhealthy, dependent relationship. Many addictions may also be attempts to assuage loneliness.

    Perhaps I never felt more alone than when I entered Marine Corps boot camp. My college experience previous to boot camp had given me some experience being a bit away from home. It was a huge jump from Sinai High School with its 30 students to South Dakota State College with an enrollment of 3200. Of course I felt alone in many ways. Dorm life was a very new experience but I was 20 miles from home and went home every weekend. But, being in the Marines was whole new ballgame. There was the reality of a three year enlistment commitment, a total mix of people and the harsh discipline of boot camp far from home.

    When I began my enlistment in 1959 I took a bus from Arlington, S.D., to Omaha, N.B., and then flew on a DC-6 to San Diego, C.A. There were several recruits on the plane and we were met at the airport by a Marine who quickly began treating us ‘as’ recruits. “What have I gotten myself into?” was perhaps foremost in my mind. Yes, I felt alone, perhaps the most alone I had ever felt. There were other times in the Marines I felt very alone but perhaps none as acutely as those first hours and days.

    Gradually I adjusted to the life of a Marine. My time in the service was greatly enriched by my friendship with Ed. We were in the same platoon in boot camp so we were acquainted. However, our friendship really developed on the twenty four hour bus ride to Omaha after we graduated from boot camp. We finished boot camp on December 15. With Christmas approaching we were given two weeks leave with orders to report to Infantry Training Regiment (ITR) after we completed our break. Knowing each other from boot camp we spent much time on the bus talking. We quickly learned how much we had in common both having grown up on farms. Not only were we together again in ITR we were assigned to the same rifle company afterwards. We also worked in the same office and lived together in the barracks both in California and Asia. My enlistment ended when we returned from Asia so I was with Ed the entire time of my service. His continuing presence in my life beyond the Marines, also enhanced by the friendship of his family, has been a great gift and joy to me.

    It seems I should have some grand insight about the sources of my strength, some epiphany that lighted my way. What ever it was, I have to try to reconstruct it based on my current self understanding. A consultant with whom I worked for many years once told me that I would be a good prisoner of war. Perhaps what he meant was that I have a resilient inner core and as an introvert am content with my own company. Being the youngest of four children likely taught me about standing up for myself. No doubt the love, unspoken though it was, of my parents and family gave me that inner strength I needed.

Leaving for Thailand 1/21/2018

      In 2012 Thailand suffered a devastating flood.  (See pictures below.)  Pastor Mary Halvorson,  heard about the floods and knew that I was going to Thailand to teach.  She asked if Grace University Lutheran Church could take an offering to send money with me to help flood victims.  Naturally I was thrilled.  Grace has continued this practice of raising money for my benevolent efforts in Thailand.     
      This year Grace again placed special offering envelopes in the bulletins for two Sundays.  So, as I go for my tenth year of teaching English in a Thai elementary school, residing with the same Thai family for the eighth year, I carry with me Grace' generous response to help widows, orphans, students and those struggling to keep life together.  I will use this blog, writing most days, to report on my activities in Thailand.  While I leave on Jan. 21, I do not arrive until Jan. 23, it is a long trip plus I lose a day crossing the International Dateline, so blogging from Thailand will begin on or after the 23rd.

I'm pointing to the flood's waterline in the house where I stay/

The house I lived in my second year shown during the flood.

The house as it looked wen I lived in it.

Students at their desks.

I'm the bearded one in the back.  :)

My Motto, Story Worth 12/1/2018

  

MY MOTTO

    Several years ago I attended some kind of educational event in which we were directed to write our personal mission statement. Dow Chemical’s “Better Living Through Chemistry” always struck me as the epitome of mission statements. (Let’s ignore any thoughts about the company.) Easy to remember, brief, and it accurately summed up what the company was to be about.

    Giving the Dow Chemicals statement a twist I declared my mission statement, i.e., motto, “Better Living Through Truth.” It harks back to my childhood in a family given to indirect speech with roots in a Scandinavian culture of more innuendo than clear communication. Perhaps generations of Norwegians living in close proximity to each other in smaller, isolated communities developed this pattern of speech to avoid alienating neighbors with whom they had to live. If a person came right out and clearly stated an idea or opinion they could not evade the consequences. However, if they said it obliquely they would always leave room for deniability. “Oh, that’s not what I meant.”

    As the youngest of four children likely there was motivation for me in blurting things out because at least I’d be noticed. There were times when I played the role of the child who said “Look, the emperor has no clothes.” “Say what you mean and mean what you say!” I do remember thinking as a child “why don’t they just say it?” Many times I’d get fed up and just say it.

    The challenge for me as an adult has been to temper my directness. Abundant surprise and uncomfortable responses from others has taught me to be more circumspect. Just because I think something I don’t have to say it. There are kind and gentle ways to be honest and direct.

    Something has equipped me to be keenly aware of what is happening in human interactions that involve me or that I observe with others. Often it is helpful to honestly name what I see. However, that is best done in the context of trusting relationships. That naming is most effective when it is not accompanied by a sense of judgment and done without anxiety or anger. For me, this is a work in progress.

    Better Living Through Truth. How well do I live this out? Imperfectly at best but perhaps it’s best to leave the evaluation to others. It is a goal towards which I strive.

White Trash...recommended reading.

     It is fascinating to read American History through a new and different prism, in this case, the prism of class.  Nancy Isenberg's White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class In America, 2016, throws a whole new light on both class consciousness and American History.  Going way back to the pilgrims, who had no idea of establishing a classless society, she traces class issues until now.  Many of those who came with the pilgrims came as indentured servants and formed the genesis of the group now often called white trash.
    It is very instructive to examine the ideas of Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin and other founders of our country in relation to their thoughts about class.  Teddy Roosevelt "was an unabashed eugenicist. He used the bully pulpit of his office to insist that women had a critical civic duty to breed a generation of healthy and disciplined children.  He first endorsed eugenics in 1903, and two years later he laid out his beliefs in a speech before the Congress Of  Mothers."  p. 192
    Isenberg's work is backed by through research as is evidenced by 125 pages of  footnotes.  She concludes "White trash is a central, if disturbing thread in our national narrative.  The very existence of such people--both in their visibility and invisibility--is proof that American society obsesses over the mutable labels we give to neighbors we wish not to notice. 'They are not who we are."  But they are who we are and have been a fundamental part of our history, whether we like it or not."  p. 321
    As I read this book I reflect on how uncomfortable I am in the presence of those not of "my" class but how often I pretend that that is not true.  I think this is a very important book.
   

From Story Worth January 6, 2018

     Our Family Genealogy 

      Two cousins have done serious ancestry work on different branches of our family. One has the data online the other does not. My father’s mother was Sigrid Halvorsdatter Graven, raised by an aunt and uncle, as a young adult she joined her parents, Halvor and Annie Graven, (Annie’s pictures hangs at the foot of our guest bed) at Lac qui Parle, MN. It was there she married Lars Andreas Negstad, who she knew from Norway. The late Manfred Awes, son of Annie (Graven) Awes, (Annie was my father’s cousin) traced the Graven family back to the 1600s. Unfortunately his work predated computers and was largely on 3X5 cards. The last I knew of his records they were with his sister in Texas.

    Many years ago, in the 1960s, I visited Manfred and Annie at their home in Madison, MN. Manfred never married. My memories of the visit are fairly sketchy though we did talk about genealogy. I also had a visit with his sister some time after Manfred had died but do not remember much about it. This is how I know she had his research.

    Cousin, Dorothy Bergh Steinberg, with her late husband, Jay, have done very extensive genealogical work on the Bergh family. Fortunately it is all on a computerized data base and goes back several generations into the 1700s. There are thousands of persons listed in the data base, tracking various branches of the family.

    Dorothy, the last surviving of the eight children of Oscar and Julia Bergh, says she has retired from genealogy. Dorothy was born July 1, 1925, at Cereal, AB., Canada, where her father was farming. Dorothy recently informed me that South Kasson Lutheran Church will be celebrating 150 years this summer. The church was founded by our great grandfather, Ole Anderson Bergh. Dorothy is hoping to attend the festivities.

    I came across this bit of interesting data on my father, Albert, in Dorothy’s material.

    “Edith Bergh...married Albert L. Negstad,...Nov. 28, 9139 in St. Paul, MN (parent’s home), (he was) born Dec. 22, 1883 in Riverside Twnsp., Lac qui Parle, Co., MN, (son of Lars Andreas Negstad and Sigrid Halvorsdatter Graven) died March 2, 1969 in Brookings, SD/Brookings hospital, buried March 5, l969 in Sinai, SD/Sinai Lutheran church Cemetery, occupation Farmer. Albert came to the Dakota Territory with his parents via oxen pulled covered wagon from Lac qui Parle, MN in 1885. His dad bought the homestead rights for the old home place for $500. Albert grew up in homespun clothes made from material from his mother’s spinning wheel. His first ready-made clothes were purchased for his confirmation at age 16. Albert got his first train ride in 1904 when he obtained free passes from two different railroads. The railroads, Milwaukee Road and Chicago Northwestern, were in a promotion fight over the relocation of the state capital from Pierre to Mitchell. Albert was a member of his local school board, a member of the local grain elevator board for 50 years and a 54-year member of the Sinai Bank board of directors.”

    Dad, Albert, was one of a group of men who organized the new bank in Sinai, SD., after the bank crash and thus began his term on the board. My brother, Richard, was on the board at the time of his death. Brother, David, succeeded him on the board and served until the bank was sold.

    Lars Negstad’s (Lars died of diabetes in 1929) estate lost significant money when the old bank failed, though I never heard how much. Fortunately $28,000. had been withdrawn to buy 160 acres of land so that each of Lars’ four heirs could inherit that much, i.e., 640 acres or a square mile. Lars had done very well with his $500. purchase of homestead rights though Dad should have some of the credit

    With the depression, land values also plummeted but all of Lars’ children were able to keep their land. In 1968 my brother Richard, bought the 160 acres (quarter section)that had been purchased with money from the estate. He bought it from Uncle Henry for $28,000. It took that many years for the value to recover after the depression. Wayne Negstad now owns the property which lies west across Highway 81, from his home on the original homestead quarter.

Recommended Reading: A Prayer Journal, Flannery O'Connor

     As a testament to my embrace of frugality Lars gave me a unique Christmas gift.  It is not unusual that he gave me books but one in particular stands out.  It is Flannery O'Connor's Prayer Journal which I appreciate on its own merits. However, the method of giving was unique.  He checked the book out of the library which acknowledges my value of frugality but also a vote of confidence that I will reliably return it to the library, three blocks from my house, before it is due.
   Appreciating O'Connor, as I do, I found the Journal a delight.  It is very brief and was composed while she was resident at The Iowa Writer's Workshop January 1946 to September 1947.  A few quotes will give a glimpse of the self-revelatory nature of the entries.
    "But all my requests seem to melt down to one for grace---that supernatural grace that does whatever it does.  My mind is in a box, dear God, down inside other boxes and on and on.  There is very little air in my box. Dear God, please give me as much air as it is not presumptuous to ask for. Please let some light shine out of all things around me so that I can what it is amounts to I suppose be selfish.  Is there no getting that Dear God? No escape from ourselves?  Into something bigger?"  pp.17-18
    "1/2/47    No one can be an atheist who does not know all things.  Only God is an atheist.  The devil is the greatest believer and he has his reasons."  p. 25
    "I do not want to be lonely all of life but people only make us lonelier by reminding us of God.  Dear God please help me be an artist, please let it lead to you."  p. 29
     O'Connor, a faithful, life long, Catholic has this interesting entry.
     "Rousseau has it that the Protestant has to think; the Catholic to submit.  It is presumed that ultimately the Protestant too has to submit; but the Catholic never to think, i.e., about the nature of man's relation to God.  This is interesting.  Catholicism being a guide book to the only means of communication is worth submitting to in the Catholic's  view.  All these doctrines that deny submission deny God."  p. 26
    Now I need to return this to the library but may check it out again for further reflection.  (Thanks, Lars.)