Food

I had dinner last night with a man who loves to cook.  He's good at it.  I couldn't help but take pleasure in listening to him describe this three course meal we were about to enjoy.  Where he bought the lamb, his conversation with the butcher over the sausage, the how and why of ingredients blended to perfection that made a simple supper into an event.

I understand that many of us, particularly families with children and busy schedules, have less time to cook than we wish we had.  But I can't help but mourn the waning of cooking in our culture.  A simple act of creation, a simple act of skill and the sharing of that skill, both eating and cooking.  I would be wretchedly poor if I did not know how to cook.  My life would be less.

Must we similarly impoverish our children by not teaching them this simple skill?

Lies

Kelsie lied today.  It was her turn to cox.  She told me even before we got to the dock that she was going to fail at it.  I responded, as I often do, that my job as captain is to keep the boat and crew safe.  Her job was to learn, not to already know.  Her shipmates' job is to have her back so she can learn, because some day she'll have their back.

It was blowing like stink out today.  Sheltered as we are in Rockland's south end we became helpless against powerful gusts from he south west.  Kelsie commanded.  She made mistakes.  Sometimes the wind just whipped us around and there was no controlling it.  We pulled and we laughed and we made mistakes and recovered from them and settled back securely at the dock and put the boat to bed.

We teased Kelsie loudly.  She lied.  She said she was going to fail and then she went and succeeded.  We had fun on the water today fighting the wind.  Didn't she remember she was supposed to blow it like she said?

Through all the laughing Kelsie got it.  We're all in this together.  It's a boat.  No matter who's coxing, if we don't pull together we won't make it back home.

On the way to the bus Kelsie asked me quietly "Can I do that again?"

Real

Early spring in Maine means some pretty wild weather.  It was raw today and blowing from the north east. I gave the kids the choice whether or not to go out.  They wanted it.  They wanted it bad.

While we were out there being tossed around by a ground swell and splashed by water from in and outside of the boat we actually fell into talking about why this was so great.  Really.  I was looking at smiles in between the waves.  Their conclusion, which they articulated themselves, was that it was so real.

But the bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding go out to meet it.

When I have a crew of trained rowers I generally permit them to make the decision of whether or not to go out in weather.  The crew is generally divided.  The youngest are often the loudest, believing themselves equal to the task and ready to prove it to themselves and all observers.  The older, more experienced kids who actually know what they’re about to get into, are often more reticent, yet willing nonetheless. 

It is the cox, or coxes of the day, who ultimately decide.  That decision is based on their own experience of wind and weather.  It is based on their own estimation of how well they feel they can handle the gig.

They are the brave ones.  I am always thrilled to watch them make the decision, yes or no.  To say yes requires them to keep seven souls safe on the water.  To say no risks censure from their crew.

I have never seen that decision made badly.  Yes or no, go or stay, the sea will have her pound of flesh.  And courage will have been formed on that day.

Those who make the decisions

The people who make the important decisions around schools are often long on academia and short on experience in their personal lives.  It is human nature to value the knowledge and skills you have more than the ones you don’t have. 

We haven’t figured out how to translate what we do to a level where those who haven’t experienced it can understand it.  I’m not sure it can be understood without experience. We need to find a way to get teachers and administrators out there on the boat, commanding the gig, seeing the Rockland waterfront from seaward.  We need to find a way to give them the same experience that we offer their students.  That alone could make a huge difference in education.

Odd Skills

My father taught me that nothing you learn will go to waste.  He was right, sort of.  Having survived an outdated school system, I hold volumes of esoteric knowledge for which I have had little or no use in my life.  I can’t say that higher mathematics did a whole lot to expand my adolescent brain.  I suppose someone cares about the Persian kings and their battle strategies, but I can’t say this knowledge has influenced many of my life decisions.

I can say, though, that nothing I have learned to DO has gone to waste.  Basic things like replacing a muffler on my car or cooking a decent meal are things I draw on almost every day, even though these days I pay somebody else to replace my muffler.  Even wildly esoteric things like molding lead bullets for a flintlock musket or crocheting lace for a friend’s wedding dress have helped me to grow.  These skills, these experiences, empower me.  They opened my eyes to laces that other craftswomen had created.  They taught me ancillary skills, like how to light a blow torch. 

Every skill I have ever learned without exception has opened a voice for me further into my being that says “I can”.  

Bangor Daily

Check out the Bangor Daily at

http://bangordailynews.com/2012/03/21/sports/rowing/midcoast-high-schoolers-get-taste-of-the-sea-in-crew-racing-program/

They did a great article about Station Maine.