The other day I was having a conversation with my son about his grades. His report card was excellent and he had lower grades in only two classes – Math and Health. I was curious about the health grade – it seems like an easy class, so I wondered out loud to him why he was not doing better. He said, “Mom, all they teach us in health is what you tell us all the time anyway. I call it the ‘Mom class’ because it is just your words over and over about taking care of ourselves.
One of the nice things about doing the kind of work I do (helping people to understand human behavior) is that I am able to see situations on a daily basis that continually remind me how important it is to help people understand themselves and others. This week I was reminded about Secret #4, “Don’t assume I know what you mean,” in my dealings as a Lecturer at the University where I teach.
I’ve been asked to speak quite a bit lately about the bullying legislation that is working its way throughout our national government, and through towns and cities across America. We received an email from our town Superintendent making us aware that the response to legislation was in place – in the form of a bully document – for parents to review and comment on.
I had the privilege of going to an Elton John concert this weekend. I’ve been listening to his music since I was a kid and he is still in wonderful form. The music and the band were more than I could have asked for! One of his well-known songs, “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me” written by Elton and Bernie Taupin, really struck me as I was singing along with the audience.
Last week I wrote in my blog about a person from a state government who had contacted me to inquire as to whether I would be able to speak to their employees. I also posted a note about this on my Facebook page, and commented on how difficult it seems to be to work in state government these days. In a surprising twist, I received a comment from someone (I don’t even know who the person is) writing something about the health laws in Arizona. Huh? I had to read the response several times to make sure I understood it, as it was a complete non sequitur to what I had written.
My son came home from sixth grade and said, “I HATE art, Mom! It’s the worst class ever.” I was so shocked to hear this, because he has always been a very good artist and has had his work displayed in the Town Hall and at various art functions around town. I tried to get him to explain why the sudden dislike for the subject, but he wouldn’t open up more than this.