Twenty Years Ago: January 2004

I was surprised by all the ways that January 2004 was similar to January 2024. It was quite different, of course, but the similarities showed how things had not changed. While this reflection on twenty years ago has been a wide-eyed tour of the past, it also shows how my present is still connected to that long ago time. 

I laughed when I described our return from vacation as, “mildly overwhelming” because I was feeling the same thing after I got off the plane with my twenty-something children and my aging eighty-something parents. 

Similarly, the entire family spent a few days, “bubble headed” then and now. We got home and everyone went to sleep, even though it was 7am. Some of us took longer to get back on Central Time – the same someones as twenty years ago. 

We arrived home exhausted and, as I went to bed, “I was so tired last night that when I tried to read, the book kept slipping from my hands.” I had napped earlier but it didn’t matter at all. We were pooped! 

Twenty years ago, my daughter got a stomach bug as we got home from vacation. The same thing happened this year. However, this year, she had to suffer on a plane back to D.C! I felt guilty that I could not nurse her the way I did in 2004. 

Fortunately, unlike 2004, none of the rest of us caught that bug. In 2004, it went through the house like that nauseating montage in the movie version of The Secret Life of Dentists. In 2004, we also shared colds; not doing that this year.  

I laughed out loud when I referred to, “The ladies of the morning;” my mother, my wife’s sister, and my wife’s aunt, who would always call us before 8am. While that no longer happens, my wife and daughter have a morning call routine now. 

As it was in 2004, I returned home and I almost immediately planned the next trip. Then it was a spring break visiting my cousin in Florida back then, this year, it is little jaunts, local science fiction conventions, and a February escape. We no longer celebrate spring break. 

January remains a month of dental visits for most of us. While we no longer have a dog, my daughter’s dog had his dental visit, too. He is in much better health than our elderly ailing dog was in 2004. I was considering doggie diapers, the insulin was so ineffective. 

When my parents moved recently, I found a disc with old photos. My father took photos of the house in 2004 for insurance purposes. Most of the house looked pretty much as it did before they moved. 

That is where the similarities end. In 2004, we had some significant snowfalls, the water main broke and we had no water for a while. The furnace’s pilot light went out and we spent a very cold evening before we figured out the issue. We saw The Lion King with the folks and the kids. It was a little much for our younger child. 

As I have written about in the past, our school moved finals before winter break a few years ago. In 2004, we had two weeks of class then finals, and then the start of the new semester. That makes things more stressful. I do not miss all that grading! I would sit in my younger child’s room and try to get on the school network since the school was just over the fence. Sometimes it worked. 

I often told the story that my parents complained that their grandchildren always used “please” and “thank you” with them. I didn’t know my reply was exactly twenty years old, “At dinner, when my father made his please-thank you comment, I informed him that we were making a special rule just for him. Where the kids normally said, “please,” they would instead say, “now” or “darn it” and instead of “thank you,” they would say “finally” or “it’s about time.”

My daughter made the school spelling bee. I really don’t like spelling bees.  I rehearsed and then officiated a bat mitzvah since our congregation had not yet hired a rabbi. Like this year, the end of the month brought snow and brutal cold. 

Finally, “I was awakened at 1:55am by a  phone call telling me that the folks alarm had gone off and should they send the police? At that time of night, I thought it best to have the police go look around. However, if the problem was something inside, a burst pipe or other problem, they wouldn’t see it. I needed to go to the house. So I got dressed, bundled up and off I went.” Fortunately, that situation has not happened often. My parents just moved out of that house and now live only ten minutes north of me. 

If you ask me what were the highlights (or lowlights) of January (or February) of 2004, I probably could not have provided many specifics. When I read my old journals, it come back powerfully. Things have changed so much, mostly for the better, but I miss when my kids were little and my parents were younger. I do not miss the frenetic and stressful life we lived in 2004. 

Twenty Years Ago: November 2003

 I must have had a cold for all of 2003!  November in 2003 was rainy and my son had a cold, too. While later in his life, I would wish for rain to cancel baseball games, in 2003, I dreaded rain because it did not cancel his soccer games. Can you see how much I loved sitting outside watching my children’s sports? 

My elder child was trying to battle her way into the school’s gifted program. She was upset that she was not selected and I had to hide my relief, “There are so many problems with that program. If she was selected there would be more issues than if she was not. Let her do her “gifted” thing in high school. I do not see that those who have been TAP’d have any advantage over those who do not. Often, they are more arrogant and more concerned with grades. Some are brighter, most are not. This is a blessing in disguise.” Of course, my child did not agree – until she got herself into the program in middle school. Then she understood what I was talking about. Oh, well. 

In November of 2003, I was phenomenally busy, “I am fighting the overwhelmed feeling. This weekend, I’ll take my Sunday School class to Willowcreek. On Monday, I’ll get essays. I need to get a Shabbat service ready for 12/5. Mango Street and the Book Circle unit are coming up and I don’t feel like either is fully developed. I am feeling like a ton is on the horizon. My grades are done, the parent notices are due. Get me to the end of the year.” 

I was also preparing our yearly holiday card. Prior to digital photography, getting a good picture could take months: shoot a roll or two, have it developed, reject the results, rinse and repeat. Fortunately, in 2003, I had my first digital camera. However, my three editors/critics could be very demanding; they wanted only their finest images on our yearly greeting card. It took a while to come to an agreement. 

Like this year, November meant a Saturday at Windycon. Since I was preparing to officiate at a bat mitzvah, I was debating whether to see one more mitzvah on a Saturday or travel to the convention. I made the healthy choice and gave myself a wonderful Saturday of celebrating science fiction and fandom. 

It was in 2003 that I integrated my Sunday School curriculum. In 2001, I taught comparative Judaism and in 2002, I taught comparative everything else. Why it wasn’t clear to me that was out of balance then, I am not sure. Perhaps because I was out of balance, too. So, I reorganized religions by theme and philosophy, had five field trips per year, and acknowledged that, since my students were going to many of their friends’ mitvzahs, we didn’t need to go to Reform and Conservative services. They were getting more than enough of those. 

In November 2003, I took my Sunday School class for our first trip to the megachurch in Barrington, Willow Creek. It was a foundational experience for them – and for me. We have been going back to Willow Creek every other year since then. 

The dog’s issues amped up in November. It was clear that the dog was now blind. I joked, “We have decided that we need to hire a seeing-eye person for the blind dog. Well, not really, but poor PJ is really struggling and it will be a few weeks at least until he gets better, if he gets better. It is really tough.”

I took my new Humanities class on a field trip to the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. This raised my level of busyness to a brand-new pitch, “Teach until afternoon, meet with the team, come home, go back for the faculty meeting, come home for dinner and give PJ his meds and then go back for the field trip. I’ll be home again around midnight! But it will be a good day, even if it is an exhausting one.” My optimism must have substituted for my lack of sleep. 

If I was questioning the value and manner of grading my own students, the grades my children were earning furthered that process, “Over and over, I question the value of these report cards. In the short story we discussed in Power Reading today, ‘Tom Edison’s Shaggy Dog,’ Edison invents an intelligence analyzer and predicts that we will be able to ‘grade people as easily as we grade oranges.’ Isn’t that what it is all about? I read my Humanities kids’ self-evaluations. One thing that came up a few times was their resistance to our grading system. Kids want to be graded. What a shame.” 

It is interesting to look back twenty years and see who was important in our lives then and now – and who we no longer see. We used to spend a great deal of time with neighbors who had kids the same age as our children. There were several families with whom we had both family and couple dates. We don’t see any of them anymore. However, there are folks with whom we were close that we see regularly. Yes, there is a message there: relationships based entirely on the kids didn’t last.

So, teaching, Sunday School, running Shabbat services, getting ready for a Bat Mitzvah, the neighborhood homeowner association (the annual meeting had to be planned), planning winter and spring break travel, taking care of a sick and blind dog, and the kids’ activities made November of 2003 a very long month. I am tired just writing that list. Oh! I noted that I joined the school crest committee at school. Did I ever say, “NO?” 

Twenty Years Ago: July 2003

Reading my journal from July 2003 made me feel old and tired. I needed to be twenty years younger to be that busy – and it was summer break! I was also reminded of how distant 2003 was; at least I no longer use a Palm Pilot. 

July of 2003 was action-packed and fun-filled in every domain. My to-do list overflowed. We had a new roof and siding installed on the house. I ordered a new computer, returning to a Mac after several years of using a piece of c. I worked on school projects, schlepped the kids around, and hosted dinners with every family in the neighborhood. 

“So much accomplished today and yet I feel unsettled. I put together the newsletter puzzle piece and fixed the Counseling Website. I got all my at-school tasks done. I read a great deal of Nervous Conditions and I shall finish it today and be able to get back to Kate regarding the choice. Lots of little bits and pieces done. I am glad I don’t live like this all the time. It would make me too scattered, too fragmented.”

In addition, I was preparing for our annual summer trip. I took the kids for their yearly physicals and even the van got its own check-up. I helped my daughter get ready for overnight camp, met with the school Peer Helping staff and my new teaching team, and consulted with the chair of counseling about his website 

The dog was having regular overnight accidents and was diagnosed with diabetes. I learned to administer insulin shots to him twice a day. To keep track of the insulin dose and its effects, I created a chart so we could figure out the correct dose. Finding boarding for him while we were away became a challenge due to his need for syringes. I changed veterinarians because I didn’t have time to schlep to Wilmette constantly. 

I am not a fan of home remodeling or construction, “I hate this kind of work anyway. The pounding, the disruption, the noise and mess. The chance of problems. These “solutions” seem to bring as many issues as they solve. Today siding off, tomorrow roofing, Saturday siding back on. I hope that brings an end to it. Enough already!” 

July wasn’t all work and tasks. It was also highly social. We went out with couples, hosted eight families over for dinners, participated in our block party, ate at Sweet Tomatoes multiple times, and had a Fourth of July party (on July 3rd) because we could see the Deerfield fireworks from our backyard. We marched in the Fourth of July parade with our congregation, had several out-of-town friends visit, and went to Great America, Navy Pier, Northbrook Days, and the library’s summer programs. My folks took my daughter to a special overnight grandparents’ university at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. The kids slept at their grandparents and great-aunt’s homes several times. They spent a ton of time at my folks’ house throughout July. 

While the kids were having a sleepover, my wife and I went to see a brand-new musical at the Goodman: Bounce! My wife had been adamant we get tickets. It is rare that she is so excited about a specific play, so I made it a special evening. We had a wonderful dinner and then got excellent seats at the theater. Unfortunately, the play was awful. At intermission, she almost yelled at me, “You said I love Stephen Sondheim!” That’s when I understood why she was so eager to see this play. She confused the two Stephens. “No,” I said to her, “You don’t like Stephen Sondheim. You like Stephen Schwartz.” We adore musicals like Pippin, Wicked, Working, Children of Eden, and others by Schwartz. She is not a big Sondheim fan. “Oh,” she replied, “Can we go home now?” We left during intermission. 

While my parents looked after the kids, my wife and I traveled to San Francisco for a week. We saw my aunt and cousin as well as friends from college. We visited with one of my former students who recently graduated from college. We drove along the coast and visited the Hearst Mansion. As always, we also toured several universities. My wife, in addition to the rest of her duties, helped kids with the college process. We did some wine tasting, sunset watching, and lots of relaxing. It was a refreshing change from our usual routine and I loved the slower and easier pace: the kind of pace I now enjoy in retirement. 

I printed out MapQuest pages to help me navigate the 850 miles I drove on vacation. I tried to check our home answering machine for messages with limited success. I had no way of getting my email without a computer. Disconnected meant something different in 2003. 

Upon returning home, life went back to the summer circus. My daughter attended art camp. The dog started regularly waking us up in the middle of the night to show us the big puddles he created in the kitchen. He also made it difficult to give him his medicine. He was remarkably clever about holding on to a pill and then spitting it out in odd places. 

At the end of July, I began writing my daily journals on my new Macintosh! My son lost his first tooth, we experienced some spectacular storms, and did our best to soak up the summer before August arrived, signaling the end of vacation and the return to the reality of school. 

Twenty Years Ago: June 2003

January may be the official beginning of the calendar, but for a teacher, it really starts in August and ends in June. Teaching is a profession that has clear cycles. As a young parent and teacher in June of 2003, cycle was the operative word.  

As we get to the end of the school year, all of the conflicts and issues of the semester move to the foreground. I hate grades. I hate the effect they have on students, their families, and what they do to relationships. It is one of the reasons why I have never used an averaged grading system. 

In 2003, I was using a portfolio grading system. Students would demonstrate their growth by analyzing their work throughout the semester and evaluating it on our skill-based rubrics. Of course, this meant that they had to complete that work. 

There was one student in particular who had failed to turn in so many assignments that demonstrating growth was nearly impossible because there was so little to see. I met with him almost every day on his free period and helped him with missing work. My goal was not a “good” grade by a passing one! I noted in my journal, “It is amazing that this boy is not sick of me yet nor has he become mad at me. It is clear that he needs attention. I have given him opportunities to tell me to stop supervising him so closely but he does not say it. He wants this kind of close attention.” Throughout my career, I met many students like this young man. 

Grades weigh heavily on me. I err on the side of the higher grade if a student is on a bubble. Students used my evaluations and their own and their work to demonstrate what grade they thought they deserved. Most students are surprisingly accurate. Many are harder on themselves than I am. 

For some students, grades are critically important – but not for all. But they were ALL important to me, “I am spending too much time thinking about these kids’ grades and what they want, and how they’ll feel and react. I need to move to a grading system that takes it out of their and my hands more – a more objective system. That will be helpful.” That is why so many teachers use a purely numeric system: it is easier when it is cut and dry. It is also inaccurate and unfair. So, for my entire teaching career, grading was a process, conversation, and a pain in the mind.

If you are related to a teacher, you know that the end of the year is the busiest and most stressful time of the year. That spills into all parts of my life. I developed another cold. I had to close down websites so people would not think we were in school to reply to their requests. At the time, in addition to my own teacher website, I was also “webmaster” for the English Department, the Counseling Department, Peer Helping, StageWrite, and recommended reading websites. I was also putting together a new website for my new class: Humanities. 

June is also a time to say goodbye to retiring colleagues. I have attended every retirement celebration that the school has thrown while I worked there. At the time, the school retirement party was held after graduation. Thus, it was never particularly well attended. People from the retirees’ departments and older teachers would attend, but many people had just spent a day teaching, an afternoon at graduation, and needed to get home to their families. It was certainly one of our most challenging daycare days. Thankfully, my parents had our kids and we celebrated three wonderful careers. 

I was delighted at how our principal talked about each of the three retirees warmly and in great detail with few notes. There was a stark contrast between the two classroom teachers, one of whom was in my department, and the retiring department chair. I wrote about how narrow the teachers’ scope of influence. Neither had sponsored clubs or coached sports. Neither was that involved in building committees or projects. They were very focused on their classrooms, kids, and courses. This was not the case for the department chair, whose influence was far-reaching.

If the year ends in June and starts again in August, then the time in-between is not a “break,” it is project season. Every year I taught I had a list of things that got pushed into summer. I start trying to hit this list as soon as the last bell rings: everyone has their yearly doctor and dentist appointments, all home improvement projects are scheduled, and preparations begin for the next school year. 

My kids were keeping doctors in business that spring. I worked on my new course preparation a few hours every day. We had a new roof and siding put on the house and remodeled a bathroom. Summer was a blur! I wrote, “I don’t feel like I am on break. I worked at the building most of the day yesterday. I straightened out the English website. I think I have a handle on that now. I worked on putting my computer back in order and doing a few other bits and pieces.” I even served on an interview team to fill a spot in our department. 

Speaking of cycles, my son learned to ride a bicycle without training wheels! My brother and aunt visited and it was good to see them. The kids started day camps. We had workmen at the house six days a week! I had a planning session with the Sunday School faculty. Each day was very busy and I noted that I was falling asleep quickly and sleeping soundly. Consequently, my journal entries were often short. I talked about a great deal -but briefly.  

I was planning a summer vacation; my wife and I always took an “annual honeymoon” and the kids stayed with my parents. It was almost always in July. I took a school workshop learning to use Adobe Illustrator. I used it to improve graphics on my websites and to create some functional and fun posters for my classrooms. 

In the wider world, a new musical called Wicked premiered. The Mars rover was launched. I put our car phone, cell phone, and home numbers in the brand-new National Do Not Call List from the Federal Trade Commission. 

But like that list, June was a long parade of all the things that didn’t fit well during the school year. I suppose a teacher’s two seasons are not winter and road construction but the school year and everything else you need to get done! 

Twenty Years Ago: May 2003

On May 1, 2003, President George W. Bush declared that, in Iraq, our mission had been accomplished and “major combat operations” were over. He was very wrong. 

At that time, I was keenly aware that, as a parent and teacher, not only was my mission not accomplished, but my major operations were only beginning. It is ironic that, twenty years later, many of my missions are accomplished (This is not the place to debate the state of Iraq). I look back at May of 2003 and it is nearly the opposite of my life now. 

My mission at school was in full swing. I had Peer Helping meetings two or three mornings a week. I was preparing for the student performance of creative writing, StageWrite, after school, later in the month. I was getting my Sunday School students ready for their May confirmation, and I was meeting with a new teaching team and designing our class for the fall. I started my adult Hebrew class, too! 

Operations at home were complex and intense. Unlike now, my children lived at home. I moved them from violin to sports practices to the park district to birthday parties and doctor appointments. Oh, yeah, they had school, homework, and Sunday School, too! 

My mother-in-law was at a nursing home in Skokie. My wife visited her frequently. My parents and my wife’s aunt helped us by picking up my kids and taking them for sleepovers and filling in when our babysitter got sick, which happened a lot in May 2003. My wife’s aunt died seven years later, and now I am frequently helping my parents.

Oddly, I didn’t see myself as frenetically busy as I do when I look back. In my journal, I wrote, “Today felt so – reasonable! I don’t remember when I have had a day when I got everything done and I didn’t feel like a madman doing it.”  But I continued, “I taught three classes, got the school work done (I didn’t have grading today – that helps). Web, attendance, special ed forms, calls, reading, and then temple, North Trail, and all the rest – but done and no craziness. What have I forgotten?”  So maybe not so reasonable? Of course, just a day later, I write, “From sane and reasonable to crazy and hectic! The day is only a few hours old and already things are nustybaum.” Are you shaking your head? I am. I was so busy that one of my journal entries ends midsentence as if I was called away and never had a chance to finish it. 

I worked out on my exercise bike most mornings. My body was letting me know that I was stressed: my neck and back hurt. I made my morning workouts more palatable by watching TV shows, but Star Trek: Enterprise had its series finale in May 2003. 

A good metaphor for my life at that time was the way that I organized my students’ debate presentations. Students were in groups of four, debating two on two. It might take ten class sessions if we saw them one at a time, so I found empty classrooms and put cameras in them, and had multiple debates for two or three days. Kids had to report to our room, find their debate room, and then set up and operate the camera, keep time, and debate! I would then take all the recordings home and grade them. It was stressful, intense, and exhausting for me, great for the class schedule and the kids. 

I ran a fundraising road rally for the congregation, which was a mix between a treasure and scavenger hunt. I organized a Mother’s Day brunch for my wife, mother, sister-in-law, and aunt-in-law. My daughter had another wrist x-ray and then we went to the Bakers Square which was demolished this week. My son had an ear infection! We went to the spring play, gymnastics tournaments to watch a former student, and Honors Night. I was a human pinball. 

Much of my free time was filled with grading (and watching those debate recordings). I also started meeting with a group of teachers who team-taught classes. Those meetings meant I was not in my regular classes, which meant sub plans and thus additional work. 

Yet, I read to both kids every night. We had our mornings together, too, even if it meant that when we left the house, it looked like the kitchen had been ransacked by raccoons. We went to dinners at Sweet Tomatoes on a regular basis, which was my children’s favorite restaurant. I rode my bike with my daughter to her school in the morning until she felt comfortable riding by herself. We even had an occasional Saturday babysitter and went to see the movie, Bend It Like Beckham! 

Like today, I was very aware of my good fortune. I wrote, “I am so lucky, so very very very lucky.” Despite a relative’s divorce and my mother-in-law’s condition, the rest of the family worked like a well-oiled Rube Goldberg machine. I noted that I did a “thousand things today,” but I wasn’t overwhelmed or unhappy about it. As with prior months, reading my old journals exhausted me now – but not then. 

I don’t know when we’ll be able to really say, “mission accomplished” in the middle east. It was May of 2003 when the Israeli government approved a plan that they thought would create a two-state system by 2005! 

Looking back lets us shake our heads at the past. It emphasizes how our view then is different from our reality now. Yet, it is our past that formed this present and what will come next. I think that frenetic pace is why I love the quiet and calm of retirement.

Twenty Years Ago: April 2003

April 2003 was a mixture of familiar and foreign. I started my journal by discussing an episode of This American Life. Not only do I vividly remember this particular story, but I had recently listened to it! 

My journal was punctuated by anxious dreams. I dreamed that, “I was going to summer camp and they were making us go through some kind of medical checkup that I didn’t want. They were going to ‘open up our heads.’” I dreamed about picking the wrong waffles, being overwhelmed with bnai mitzvah prices, having my hotel bathroom taken over by a stranger, and being on crutches on an army ship! 

I wrote about relishing quiet and slow mornings (one of my favorite parts of retirement), making lots of lists (I noted that, “I live on lists”), and struggling with the change from daylight saving time (“That lost hour counts!”). April was still hardly spring; in 2003, it began with a snowstorm! 

Even at a young age, my kids were themselves, “Quinn enjoyed her day at the zoo. She is great. Jonah is so happy, he literally bounces into the room. These kids are fantastic.” They still are! 

My life was hectic and phenomenally full, “There is a great deal to do between all the projects: StageWrite, Road Rally, Humanities, Peer Helping, Confirmation, and just teaching, parenting, and day to day stuff. Stop! Don’t want to freak myself out!” And that list wasn’t even complete! My daughter had several x-rays and doctor visits, I was returning to school in the evening for SEED class and special events, the homeowners association, and Friday night services. Oh, and I signed up for an adult Hebrew class! 

Yet, my enthusiasm for teaching was powerful, “Each job is different, I suppose, but I happen to think that I have the best one around: I do good – and do well. I have seasons. I am always learning and helping others to grow. I work for the good guys.”

Over spring break, I prepared for the class I would teach in the fall. I used quite a bit of that precious downtime to grade and prepare for my current students – and I started a summer to-do list dominated by professional tasks. And I got another cold! 

There were school challenges. The return to school after spring break was like diving into a cold pool. I had a student who was unhappy with the B he earned on his essay. We scheduled a meeting to go over the essay and he brought his mother to it! I struggled with getting my website updated. All materials that I gave to students on paper were available online. This is typical today, but in 2003, very few teachers did this. 

I used the computer regularly in the classroom for learning activities. We didn’t have projectors in classrooms, so I had to get the C.O.W., the computer on wheels. The English cart was called the Literary COW or L.C. for short. 

I dealt with a case of plagiarism, made presentations for our writing tutors, proctored the state testing, facilitated the display of the Names Memorial AIDS Quilt, hosted classroom observers, and ran a rehearsal of our student performance of creative writing. After I finished the rehearsal, I thought to myself, “I can’t believe I used to do this every day!” I was so much younger when I was directing plays: Ha! 

The school selected one of my schedules! However, they also chose to begin the day twenty minutes earlier, which flies in the face of the research about teens and sleep! The staff member who spoke to the staff was a coach in favor of starting earlier. It would be great for outdoor sports. I created a two-sided chart to explore both sides of the issue and even wrote a thesis arguing against an earlier beginning to our day. I lost. Sports' needs usually win. 

April brought Passover, touch-a-truck, my daughter’s birthday party, the start of softball, homeowners association meetings, and lots of rain. I noted, “I feel drained. Tired. I know this is the normal Friday feeling but this has been a very full week and a very full day. Each day, my pocket list was overflowing. My list for the weekend is longer than it usually is.” I reminded myself, “I think I can, I think I can.”

My father and I got into a heated “discussion” about the Iraq war at our Passover seder. I resolved to get rid of my Windows computer at home and buy a Mac. I was stuck with the “pieces of c” at school. 

Yet, April was a typical month – then. I am delighted that my life has slowed down now. 

Twenty Years Ago: March, 2003

I am reflecting on my life twenty years ago by reading my daily journals. Click here for an introduction. 

If February was busy, then March 2003 was a five-ringed circus. I didn’t sleep through the night even when I was taking nighttime cold medicine. I spent much of the month recovering from a cold. It was snowy and cold and winter got its last licks in during its final month. “I think my body is falling apart,” I wrote. 

My daughter had orthodontist and pediatrician appointments, x-rays of her adenoids and wrists, violin lessons, and a performance of the baby scene from Free to Be You and Me for a school gifted program event. She planned her birthday party and, when I questioned one name on her invitation list, I told myself to, “back off.” She brought home a hat she made at school that said her new year’s resolution was to stop yelling at her brother. She yelled at her brother? When? 

We celebrated my son’s fifth birthday with a play party at the park district. Since he was getting ready to go to kindergarten, he had a marathon of inoculations at his yearly March physical and it felt like a reward (or punishment) for recovering from all his illnesses of the prior month. 

I kept track of all my appointments on my Palm Pilot, needed to replace the phones that were installed in our cars, and watched shows recorded on VHS tape on our VCR when I worked out in the morning. 

“I am the human pinball.” Often my schedule wedged my home, school, and parenting responsibilities into a small space. I wrote about finishing class at 12:15 and rushing to volunteer at the book fair at the elementary school and then returning to the high school for an afterschool meeting, coming home and cooking dinner before leaving for Shabbat services in the evening. On the weekend, we attended the school’s musical, attended a community workshop, took my Sunday school students on a field trip, and had families over for pizza and play.

I wrote that, “School is the simple part of my life.” Yet, the more I read, the less simple school seemed. I met with the Peer Helpers in the morning, taught two or three classes a day, was assigned a new teaching partner to co-teach an integrated social studies-English class for the next year, drafted on to a “think tank” to work on the new daily schedule, and moved toward performance of our creative writing event, called Stage Write. School had a lockdown drill I said I was, “overstuffed to the max.” 

As part of our congregation’s steering committee, I attended interviews and other events to hire a rabbi. We met the man who would become our rabbi this month. He did a Shabbat service and I drove him around the area. My wife felt that we should move quickly to hire him or another congregation would snap him up! I noted that I was the youngest member of the Steering Committee. Now, I am one of the oldest and most senior! 

In the middle of the month, we declared war on Iraq because President Bush believed Saddam Husain had weapons of mass destruction. My father and I saw this very differently and had some passionate discussions about it. 

I was planning trips for spring break and the summer. My wife’s mother was struggling and required a great deal of care and attention. She had an infection, then an allergic response to the medicine for it, and the doctor struggled to locate an alternative treatment. My folks returned from a vacation, were home for a week or so and then left on another one. Once again, I watered plants, fetched mail, and got groceries for their return. 

“Running, running, running. Lots to do and little time.” I went to my professional development class, SEED several nights throughout March, tried to figure out how to grade student journals without commenting on everything; we had clogged toilets, trips to the train station (to just watch the trains go by), and several dinners at Sweet Tomatoes. 

Yet, when things slowed down occasionally, I wrote, “I love lazy and slow mornings when we can get them.” Spring break was a chance to do just that, although I reminded myself to “use it well.” 

“Spring is here and summer is quickly being planned. Zoom, zoom, zoom.”

Twenty Years Ago: February, 2003

I am reflecting on my life twenty years ago by reading my daily journals. Click here for an introduction. 

February 2003 was the opposite of my life today as a retired empty nester. Although my overall tone in February of 2003 was optimistic, positive, and happy, it seems stressful and overscheduled from 2023. 

February 2003 began with the space shuttle Columbia exploding at liftoff and ended with the death of one of my heroes, Fred Rogers. My young son struggled with fevers, stomach bugs, rashes, and colds all month. Was it because I registered him for kindergarten?

During February, I was on a school committee charged with creating a new daily schedule. I created a wide variety of schedules including an eight-period schedule across six-period days so two periods dropped out each day. By the end of February, we chose this model and began to figure out how to implement it. 

I juggled teaching, parenting, volunteering, and other responsibilities. I had after-school department meetings, assemblies, classes split by the lunch periods, observers in my classroom, and meetings with my clubs. Yet, I noted that my students “were AWESOME” and days, when my classes were uninterrupted, were “joyful.” 

The pace was the opposite of my life today: I sent one child to school, and the other was either at preschool or with a caregiver. My wife and I left for school at 7 am. I returned around 1 to grade papers and get errands and tasks accomplished. The kids returned at 3. We had the afternoon routine of sports, violin practice, playdates, and park district classes. My wife came home at 4:30 as I was putting together dinner. After dinner (which was always eaten at warp speed), we would turn our attention to homework (everyone’s) and all manner of evening activities. We all plopped into bed early and exhausted! 

My mother-in-law had Alzheimer’s and was living in a care facility in Skokie. My wife visited her frequently. I was highly involved in our congregation, so I had evening meetings at least once a week – and Friday night services. I was also taking an evening professional development class. 

In my journal, I keep telling myself that I can handle it – and that I enjoy it. I think I did, even if reading these affirmations made me think I was trying to convince myself.  I remember those years fondly, even if, when looking back now, they seem chaotically frenetic. 

There were many days when I didn’t feel like a part-time teacher. After class, I often stayed for lunch meetings, conferences or phone calls, or after-school meetings – then I’d return in the evening for my PD class, a performance, or to supervise an event! 

It was also clear how much I depended on my parents’ and my wife’s aunt’s help with our kids. They took them to Disney on Ice, the Museum of Science and Industry, sleepovers, and countless activities. When we had daycare challenges, they stepped up. The positive power of my children’s relationship with my parents was clear, too. My folks left town and my kids complained about the length of their trip. I picked up my parent’s mail, watered their plants, and checked their house. 

My work life was stressful. I doubt that any workplace is without politics, but English teachers are passionate, independent, and value their autonomy. We stormed over curriculum, requirements, personalities, and teaching assignments. Should students be required to give speeches? What was the place of oral communication in the English curriculum? Should teachers be required to teach specific texts? Should all students in a given course read the same texts and have the same core assignments – and how much should they write? I remember teachers being highly judgmental about each other – and some whom I discovered talked a better game than they taught. 

One teacher was very critical of my teaching. She decided that my students were not writing enough. So, I shared my classroom website with her. All of my assignments, activities, rubrics, and materials were available online. I did not hear anything after that. It was more than a decade before that teacher (or most others) posted her classroom activities publicly. Click here to read about my use of a teacher website. 

My journal is filled with thoughts about my work. I scrutinized my choices and reflected on my students’ progress. I was my own biggest critic. For example, I posed these questions for consideration and further writing: 

“What is the balance between writing, literary study, and oral communication? 

How much focus on technology? 

Are there key texts that are pivotal? 

How does our leveling structure pan out post high school? 

How do kids use the skills we have taught in college and beyond?

Are there skills kids need in college and beyond that we have NOT addressed? 

What direction do we get from our long-range plan and Illinois State Standards? “

I got up early one Saturday morning for the College of DuPage teacher fair with our district. I met several very promising candidates, some of whom joined our department. At the end of the day, I spent an entire interview trying to decide if I should tell the young candidate that she misspelled the word, “literature” on her resume. 

I was uncomfortable with the overwhelming number of gifts that arrived at children’s birthday parties. To make matters worse, my kids didn’t really play with most of these presents. In February, I convinced my daughter to take a different approach. My daughter decided her friends should bring presents for kids at Children’s Memorial Hospital instead of for her. Don’t worry, I was not depriving my child of birthday gifts; she got several presents from us that were things she really wanted and were chosen carefully – and her grandparents and great aunt spoiled her thoroughly. In February, she and I sat down and designed her birthday party invitation and did research about what kind of gifts would work for kids in a hospital. 

And we had a violin recital, went to the auto show, had families over for dinner, trips to the doctor, took my Sunday school kids to the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in Bartlett, and celebrated my parents’ forty-third anniversary! 

It will come as no surprise that I got a bad cold and lost my voice as the month ended! On to March! 

Twenty Years Ago: January 2003

In January 2003, I began a habit I have maintained to this day: writing every day, usually in the morning. Click here for an introduction to this set of posts. My journal entries often revolve around my family and our daily activities, and, of course, school. At the time I started journaling regularly, my daughter was 8 and my son was 4. Their schedules, especially my daughter's, dominated our lives. I drove her to various activities, which in turn dictated my calendar. She was involved in a number of activities, including playing the violin, dancing, forensics (with a speech tournament that month), playing basketball, and she had a lot of homework. I also mentioned in my journal a diorama project that I felt was beyond her capabilities, and I wondered about children whose parents couldn't or didn't help them with it. My parents and my wife's aunt appear in my journal that month often when they help transport my children from one activity to another.

I mentioned in my journal that January 29th was "crazy hair day" at my daughter's school. I have a photo of it, though I doubt my daughter would let me attach it to this post. At the time, when we were at a soccer game or school event and people asked which of the children was my daughter, I would simply say "the tall one with the hair." She had (and still has) beautiful, very curly, dark red hair, which was a constant battle to keep under control. She wished she had straight hair. When we first saw the movie Mulan, she cried, "I want her hair."

In addition to my children's activities, I was just as busy in my personal and professional life in January of 2003. I wrote at length about developing a new multidisciplinary curriculum. I was also sponsoring a performance of student creative writing called "Stage Write," serving on the Faculty Advisory Council, on a committee redesigning our daily schedule, taking an evening class in Seeking Educational Equity and Diversity (SEED), teaching Sunday School, running the congregational Shabbat services, and serving as secretary of the homeowners association. 

It is unsurprising that I was feeling stressed. I noted I had a sore neck and I was feeling a little dizzy, perhaps overwhelmed. However, I also noted that writing in my journal allowed me to vent, complain, rant, and express things that I couldn't express in other ways.

I was heavily involved in my school department. I tried to organize a departmental book club. I noted that the department struggled to have social events, and I was critical of teachers who didn't start doing their new course planning early and then complained about being rushed. At the same time, I asked myself if I really wanted the challenge and stress of those new classes.

January was a month of transition for all of us, as we were returning to school after winter break and adjusting to the start of a new semester. I didn't start writing in my journal on the first of the month; rather, the entries for this month begin at the end of the month. Next month, I’ll have a full month of journal entries to use. 

In addition to all of these activities, I was studying world religions for Sunday School. I listened to lectures on audio as I exercised in the morning. In my journal, I reflected on different philosophies and theologies, and even played around with the idea of creating my own religion, sometimes seriously and sometimes satirically.

At one point in my journal, I wrote, "I am the juggler, boy am I the juggler." This was a mantra for me during much of my children's younger years, as I felt like I was constantly keeping swords or flaming torches in the air and if I dropped any of them, I might cut off my arm or burn down the house! 

It was a little stressful to revisit January 2003, and I know more intensity is on the way. Thank goodness I am now retired. 

Twenty Years Ago Today: An Introduction

Everyone told me when you have children, remember to video record everything – and I did. I have videos of birthday parties, soccer games, trips, class visits, Halloween, and so much more. I compiled these videos into DVDs and made a second set for my parents.

No one ever watches them.

So recently, I watched them. It is both a memory jog and a reminder of who we were, what was going on, and the struggles and celebrations of the late 90s and early 2000s.

Sometime around 2002, I realized that taking still photos would be better than videos. I still took some videos, but I really focused on pictures. That is the advice I would give a new parent. Sure, have a video camera for the game or concert, but take photos. People actually look at those. 

Similarly, I have been keeping a kind of journal or diary for many years in many forms. About the same time I moved to photos, I made a commitment to myself to write every single day. My purpose was to reflect on my day, record my thoughts while they were still in my head, and to think about how one day informed and shaped the days to come. I have written some kind of journal entry every day since. 

I go back to my journals for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it is mere nostalgia, but more often it is to remind myself about a specific person, event, or place. I review my journals about trips when we are returning to those places. I will use my journal as a tickler when I am seeing someone I have not seen in a long time to remind myself about our last meeting. Often, I consult my journal so I can build on my past experience and not simply fall into the same potholes all over again. My journals are a piece of my ever-expanding external memory. 

However, there are huge swaths of my journal that have sat on the computer ignored like those home videos. I decided it is time to look them over, too. So each month, I am going to read my journal from twenty years ago –and sometimes, I will write a ‘then and now piece here. 

Strangely, I can’t find any journals from 2002. I changed computers and I have a large number of files I can’t open. Perhaps some are from 2002. There was a good reason I didn’t write regularly: I was juggling teaching, parenting, and involvement in several community organizations. And I was very young and very busy

I did go back and look at my journals from 1998 to the beginning of 2001. It was embarrassing and powerful, familiar and far away. It was a bit sad and less nostalgic than I thought it would be.  

My first entries are in October of 1998. One of my former students and neighbor had suddenly passed away at college. It was a terrible tragedy and it affected me strongly. 

But the joys of parenting were just as present, my son “continues on his journey to personhood. He is such a personality. He loves strings, wires and anything resembling them. He is fascinated by the VCR. He is so playful and fun. He loves to be sung to. Parenthood is the best thing I have ever done.” 

I complained about the motivational speakers who came to my school, worried about students who were not succeeding, and reflected constantly on my teaching. My tone is so authoritative and confident. I laughed while I read. 

I reflected on a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry with my daughter, she “loved the new Pioneer Zepher train and the animatronic talking statues and mule! She was non-pulsed by the U505 Submarine and the Fairy Castle (which really surprised me). She loved the Omnimax theater presentation of ‘The Mysteries of Egypt’  -especially the fast flight over the Nile. Three times she looked at me and said ‘I really love this, Daddy.’” 

I was very focused on getting my grading completed. I planned when and how many essays and quizzes and projects and debates I could grade. Ungraded work weighed heavily on me. Although, I was a part-time teacher (and a full-time father), but I still had hours of homework! 

There were college recommendations, baby sitters, doctor visits, meals, in-services, clubs, performances, vet visits, and family trips to Florida and California. Traveling with young children is not a vacation. It is a trip – at best. 

So now, as January looms, I will open up journal entries from January 2003. I remember some things about that time. I am sure there will be more I have forgotten. I am not sure what I will find – and if what I find is not worth remembering, you won’t hear from me. 

Twenty years is a long time. We were different people then. Those people share a lot with us today– but we are no longer them. I am hoping that by looking at those old journals, I can learn about where I have been and better understand where I am so I can make choices about where I am going. We’ll see! Read on! 

A Journal a Day

Although I have been journaling for more than thirty years, at the end of January in 2003, I made a decision to write daily. I review the prior day, talk to myself, make notes about school, writing, and life in general. 

I like it. It is my kind of meditation. It is a form of memory making. In the Facebook age, we use the cameras on our phones to document our lives. It is all there in pictures. Pictures are great, but they are not enough. I wanted to be able to save the feelings, thoughts, questions, and conversations. I wanted more than images.

February 9^th, 2004: P.J. just threw up in the front hall.

Journaling has come in handy not only for the higher goals of reflection and metacognition, but also for simple stuff. When were the cable repair people here last? What was the original date of our vacation? Whom did we bump into at the restaurant?

There is the memory jog aspect of journaling. By reviewing my day and thinking about it, I often discover ideas that lead me to new places and insights, people to contact, and items to add to my to-do list. After reviewing an old journal entry, I am often left with a renewed sense of humility and gratitude. 

March 17^th, 2005: Jonah woke up feeling sick. I thought it was just gas, and I sent him to school. He seemed fine by the time I got back from bringing Quinn to orchestra. I was wrong.

My daily journal is also a dumping ground. I can get it out and leave it there. It is so tempting to blog rants. I don’t want to. When I journal, I can vent, scream, yell, cry and wring my hands. I can figure out what I am really feeling and what will be an appropriate way to proceed.

I review my journal infrequently. When I do, I see changes as starkly as when I look at older photographs of myself. I can look back at things that seemed daunting and dangerous that now seem like no big deal. I can laugh with relief at the struggles or problems that have long since been filed away.

May 23^rd, 2007: As I was making my “it’s been a great year” speech, David asked if it was time to “gift shears.” He said the class had gotten together and got me a gift: SHEARS! Yes, I got a gift of shears from my Senior English class!

My journal helps me learn and move forward. I look back, and I see what this week or month has really been about. I am able to more fully digest all the things that come at me so quickly.

Oh, yes, and I am frequently running back to my journal to add things. I didn’t write about that phone call. I forgot to note the issue with the van! How could I have written all about yesterday and not mentioned the concert? The day falls into my journal in a dream like order and with emotional logic. I put it back together. 

April 23^rd, 2010: We checked out through attendance and then drove to the Secretary of State’s office. Quinn had no trouble with the road test and passed just fine. She took a lovely license picture.

I will continue to write daily. I will continue to journal, blog, and talk to myself. One is an outgrowth of the other. It is great that I can share my writing – and have writing that is just for me.