The Schoolmaster Called Failure

All right.  I'm going to get this off my chest right at the beginning.


When it comes to caulking anything, I am a definite failure.

I have other failures to my name also, but Caulking is the monster staring me in the face right now.

Somehow I have managed to live my life thus far without making an intimate acquaintance with Caulking, in spite of the fact that we built a new house and then fixed up the other one.

But now he has hunted me down.  And it's a relationship that, frankly, is on the rocks.

It all started with the economy going down the tubes for general contractors like Nevin and with opportunity leading us down a long road to establishing a new business in food production.  And if you want to blame it on Obama or Bush, you can, but I'd rather think there is a Divine hand nudging us in this direction.


It's all a detailed and complicated story, but in the end it involves spending more time and money than you would think, and building a processing facility in the former garden spot, and putting in a swimming pool at the same time which sounds totally bizarre, but makes sense in an odd sort of way in conjunction with the fire department.  And it involves making salad dressings and barbecue sauces to start out with and adding other items somewhere along the way.


It also includes a dream to be successful enough to someday hire people with disabilities to work with us because we see this as a need that society is struggling to fill.


But before we can succeed in the building of this dream, we must face the realities.  Like caulking.


"Apply a bead of caulk along the edge of the trim before painting the final coat," the instructions say.


It sounds so simple, but somehow I don't think they are talking about the kind of beading burping out of my gun.  Pop beads, I think is what they're called.


And it is scant comfort to realize that God gave me 10 fingers so I'd have plenty to rotate through as I wipe gobs from the woodwork.


And what do you do about corners?  I mean, I can understand in a limited way the innies, but what about the outies.  It's like trying to ski up the pointed tip of a snowplow.


Which leads me back to the subject of failure.


I suppose anyone who has started a new business thinks about the possibility of failure.  New adventures involve learning new ways of doing things.  Making salad dressing for public consumption is a bit different than making small amounts in your own kitchen.  How do you get every batch the right consistency?  How many flops will we create that will run like water instead of salad dressing?  Or how many will ooze like, well, caulk, for instance?


I read a magnificent commentary recently by Paul Tough in New York Times.  It was called "What If the Secret to Success Is Failure?" 


It is a lengthy article, but well-worth reading and considering.  Headmaster of one of New York's most prestigious schools, Dominic Randolph makes some surprising judgments on modern American education.  Below are some excerpts taken from the article.

The most critical missing piece, Randolph explained...is character — those essential traits of mind and habit that were drilled into him at boarding school in England and that also have deep roots in American history. “Whether it’s the pioneer in the Conestoga wagon or someone coming here in the 1920s from southern Italy, there was this idea in America that if you worked hard and you showed real grit, that you could be successful,” he said. “Strangely, we’ve now forgotten that. People who have an easy time of things, who get 800s on their SAT’s, I worry that those people get feedback that everything they’re doing is great. And I think as a result, we are actually setting them up for long-term failure." 


“The idea of building grit and building self-control is that you get that through failure,” Randolph explained. “And in most highly academic environments in the United States, no one fails anything.”


Randolph wants his students to succeed, of course — it’s just that he believes that in order to do so, they first need to learn how to fail.


David Levin, the co-founder of the KIPP network of charter schools and the superintendent of the KIPP schools in New York City also weighs in with the same conclusions.


As Levin watched the progress of those KIPP alumni, he noticed something curious: the students who persisted in college were not necessarily the ones who had excelled academically at KIPP; they were the ones with exceptional character strengths, like optimism and persistence and social intelligence. They were the ones who were able to recover from a bad grade and resolve to do better next time; to bounce back from a fight with their parents; to resist the urge to go out to the movies and stay home and study instead; to persuade professors to give them extra help after class. 

I found the article to be a refreshing breath of air in a world where only perfection seems admirable.  

Think about it though.  What gymnastics coach would put a beginner on the high beam without first teaching him how to fall?  And why should it be any less important in the rest of life to teach our children how to fall?

One of my favorite mantras for our boys is that failure is only a mistake if you fail to learn from it.

And one of our favorite books at the moment is Beautiful Oops by Barney Saltzberg which is a children's book that is profound in its simplicity.

Through the eyes of an artist, mistakes become design elements. 

"Think of your mistakes," he says, "as an opportunity to make something beautiful".

I like that.  So you messed up today.  How will you build on that knowledge to make something better tomorrow?  Our children need to hear this message from us.

So when, in the future you're shopping at Save-A-Lot and you see runny bottles of salad dressing labeled Beautiful Oops Marinade, you'll know the inside story.

And as for the caulking failure, well, I'm thinking of just signing my name on the office wall and calling it modern art.

Wordy Wednesday

Language has been the slowest part of Wade's development.  His receptive language is considerably more advanced than his expressive language, but both are lagging.

It has been interesting to observe, however, that he really doesn't learn so very differently from other children, but he just smells the roses longer at each spot before he moves on.  This lingering in the rose garden has enabled me to examine with greater clarity the processes that take place in developing ordinary skills and to become aware of how to break down those processes into small steps that are not so overwhelming.

And the more I learn, the more I am stunned at the way the Creator made us.  Truly, the half has not been told, because it hasn't even been discovered yet.

So, as Wade's vocabulary is expanding, so is mine, which is proving to be good cerebral exercise for each of us.

However, on my way to town one evening with all three boys, I was annoyingly aware that one of them was mass-producing excessive vocabulary, blah, blah, blah, all the time with never a break, and it was getting to be TOO MUCH.  So as any good mother would, I opened my mouth to say, "Would you please be quiet?"

Then it occurred to me.  That was Wade talking non-stop!  We had waited a long time for this moment.

And I shut my mouth and smiled.

It was such a delight then to go home and tell Nevin, "Guess what!  I almost had to tell Wade to stop talking so much tonight!  Isn't that great?"

Every day now, I am treasuring hearing him express his thoughts with that refreshing perspective little people have.

So here are some Wednesday words of gold.

"Mom, coughies!"  (he had the hiccups but couldn't think of the right word)

Dad, that's enough! (when Nevin reached for more chips)

And when he got a picture in the mail just for him of his cousin Kay Wren: "That's cute!  I love it!"

He is currently tucked in bed sleeping with the picture.

And I think that's cute! I love it!

All the Things He'll Never Do

When Wade was born with Down syndrome, we immediately thought of the limitations we imagined would be part of the script of his life.  During that first week as we waited for test results to come back, I tried not to think the long thoughts I was thinking.  And when Wade failed his first, second and third hearing tests I looked at him sleeping soundly and wondered if this was only the beginning of many failures.

But the day the definitive test came back, in the midst of my tears,  I suddenly had another thought:  Wouldn't I rather have him be like this than to be evil?

And then my thoughts took a different road.

Think of all the things he'll never do!


He'll never rob a bank.


He'll never be a threat to anyone.


He'll never hold someone hostage or commandeer a school shooting.


He'll likely never kill someone because he's driving under the influence of alcohol.


He won't embezzle millions from his employer.


He'll never abort innocent babies.


And he'll never, never fly big planes into twin towers.



Now, I humbly realize that I, like Adam and Eve, have lived my life under the delusion that a knowledge of good and evil is desirable.

And I look at Wade and realize that I, too, would really rather not know evil.  But I must, because only to him and to those like him has been given the wonderful Gift of Innocence.

And it is this beautiful Gift that connects me daily to that Better World where, someday once again, we will know only Good.

What Is Normal?

Every so often, situations arise that make me think,  "I wonder what a normal mother would do."

And then I wonder why I don't think of myself as being normal.

I suppose it's because even after 12 (almost 13!) years of mothering, I still feel bewildered and blundering.  "Why are you always praying for wisdom?" Chris asks.

Years ago, it seemed to me that mothers of this advanced maternal age would be the settled and sensible, if-you-do-this-that-will-happen type of sages.

It also seemed quite obvious at one point in my life that a + b = c.

But some days now I'm not so sure but what a + b = g or x or even z .  Who knows?

And conversations like this don't help.

Chris:  God said that Job was a perfect man, but Job said things about God that weren't true, so how could he be perfect?

Wade:  Tigger is best; Tigger is best!

Randall:  I wonder who was tempted to pick my nose before I was.

Me: And how does this relate to anything?

Randall: Well, the Bible says there is no temptation new to man.

Wade: Tigger is best!!

Randall:  And how in the world are we going to give account for every word we say?  Isn't that going to take an awfully long time?  For example, when God says, "All, right, Randall, why did you say A?"  and I'll have to say, "Well, A is an article, which means it's an adjective used to describe a noun......"

Wade:  TIGGER IS BEST!!

And I have absolutely nothing to say about that.

So I'll just post birthday pictures.

"I wonder," said Chris, "if I'll get stuck like Pooh in the Honey Pot."

Well, anyway, it was good to the last smackerel.

Tigger really is the best for a new eight-year-old and his buddy.

Everyone must wear party hats, decreed Christopher.

And Wade sang "Happy Birthday" to everyone whether or not it was your birthday.

In summary, the older I get, the more I believe that Patsy Clairmont was right:  normal really is just a setting on your dryer.

Wonderful World

The faces of Down syndrome...

*Photography by Coleen Barnhart

It's October Again...

...Down Syndrome Awareness Month.

Join us every day this month as we celebrate the epiphany of 47 chromosomes.

And as you journey with us,  may our time together become an educational walk that will change our lives forever.

The Language of Music

"It's easy to play any musical instrument: all you have to do is touch the right key at the right time and the instrument will play itself."- J.S. Bach

Wade began music therapy with a Kindermusik class when he was 3 years old. After that class was completed, we continued with one-on-one music therapy over the summer. We have kept on with music therapy ever since except for a break this summer. He now has music therapy twice a week with two different music therapists.

One of the first benefits of music therapy that I saw in Wade was an improvement in rhythm. Because rhythm is included in the backbone of speech, as a child's rhythm improves, so also does his vocabulary.  I had thought that it would take much hand-over-hand tutoring to accomplish the art of staying in rhythm, but Wade was soon tapping to the beat, inspired by observing and imitating (what seemed to be) playful games with the music therapist. And along with a better sense of rhythm came new words and longer sentences.

Another huge benefit of music therapy for Wade is that the music therapist is able to take any of the child's other pt, ot, or speech goals and incorporate them into the music. Because music has always been a passion for Wade, it provides the key to unlock the doors of fundamental learning by seducing his attention and holding it. Music becomes an invisible schoolhouse in a natural setting enabling him to learn and meet his goals without ever realizing that he is working. Music has helped to stretch his attention span until now he is able to put small puzzles together independently and to complete tracing pages mostly on his own. Days of the week, months of the year, weather, abc's, and numbers have all been learned through music. When he was younger, music was the best way to teach him sign language. Additionally, isolating problematic letter sounds and putting them to music also helped to make him aware of remembering to say them the correct way.

Music therapy's incorporation of movement and learning corresponds well to the explosion of current research on the connection between movement and cognition, whose findings imply that education should involve movement to enhance learning. When Wade manipulates learning mediums with his hands, or moves with purpose related to mental activity, he processes and retains new information much better. It stretches his ability to complete sequencing activities correctly and aids in the process of permanently downloading new vocabulary into his brain.

When Wade turned 4, the music therapist began to do adaptive piano along with the other mt activities. Once again, I have been amazed at the performance of cognitive skills this has showcased that I might otherwise have missed. This is a great picture of order in the environment creating order in the mind. Now, at almost 5, Wade is playing simple songs on the piano (by reading color-coded music) and is isolating the appropriate fingers to use with the coordinating keys. He is also best able to follow a sequence when it involves the keyboard, leading me to believe that music has enhanced his listening skills and helped him to focus with much greater clarity. Research again backs up this theory by showing how brains can organize themselves in response to sensory input. An interesting study was done in 1980 by M. C. Piper and M. K. Ramsay on the effect of early home environment on the mental development of infants who had Down syndrome. In this study, organization in the home was a direct factor in predicting the IQ of these children.

More recent research reported by Oliver Sacks in Musicophilia reveals the fact that a professional musician's occupation can be identified by simply seeing a picture of his brain. In other words, the study of music has given him more connections between the hemispheres of his brain than most other people have. If that is true, then it seems likely to me that a well-ordered introduction and guidance to music beginning when my child is very young will have long-lasting impact on his cognitive development throughout life.

It is a passion worth cultivating.

* For further information on music and Down syndrome read this article written by Stephanie Bennet in 2009 entitled "Music may improve verbal memory--Implications for children with Down syndrome".

* And do take a look at this clip about Bryann Burgess who will be singing the national anthem for our Buddy Walk in a couple of weeks. Bryann is currently a junior at the University of South Carolina where she is participating in their non-degree program, living on campus, and attending classes on her own without a tutor. Her passion for teaching and her talent for music come together in the work she is doing in assisting with a Kindermusik class.

Hello, My Name is Wade

I just had a birthday.  I am five years old.

When I was born, my mom wondered what I would be like when I was five.

I could have told her she didn't need to worry.

Because now that I'm five I can do lots of things.

Take a look.

Ah, Mom! You don't need to worry about me!

I can even take pictures with your camera.

Oooops!

Oh well, a fella can't be good at everything.

I Am Russell's Voice

There's an elephant in the room.  I've sort of been avoiding him.  It seems that he's talked about, too often, with a sense of anger.

But anger isn't needed.  And Russell has a voice who has spoken gently and well.

Listen.

The Adventure of Sleeping

So, I tuck Wade in bed--he's all agreeable and smiling good night.  But when I check on him a while later, I find this.......mummy bear sleeping on three pillows and lovingly snuggled in the blanket.  Where is Wade?

Ah!  There he is, in his brother's bed where he'd much  rather sleep.

He sleeps so creatively that I just can't get done taking pictures.

There's no adventure like a nap (at least when your name is Wade).