helping the movement forward

 responding to the unique, and the commonality

as educators, we know that each individual's path through life

has much of the unique about it,

while journey's end has much commonality about it:

the goal of knowledge, skills,

the deciphering of the enigmas learning can throw at us, 

letters to sounds to words, words to sentences,

sentences to story and argument,

numbers to pattern of relationship, rules of manipulation,

the underlying logic that mathematical symbols

can express and that we can use for revelation,

the use of word and number increasingly complicated

as the learner seeks to climb each level into understanding,

the journey up those mountains is not exactly the same for all--

where each starts is different,

we can accommodate much difference as best we can figure:

with some accommodations being easy

such as more time,  or preferential seating,

maybe a graphic organizer for those more visual than aural,

maybe dividing the journey into "chunks"

so that movement forward is not daunted as much

by the length and difficulty of the totality of the journey,

in the classroom accommodation can be challenging,

but it is even harder in the social world of the early adolescent,

the journey toward the common goal of social success

entails potential paths that are fraught with beckoning disasters,

"friends" seem to value differentiation from others

so that "we" knows itself as not "them,"

and "we" feels better by denying "them,"

it is far easier to blast the mistakes

 on this social and emotional journey

than to figure out how to help us all

accommodate each other in finding the best of ourselves,

it's still "accommodation" but far harder since feelings roil us inside,

often we just need to deny the negative action

and rely on the individual to figure out the "accommodations" needed,

we strive to find the best of ourselves in the journey forward,

the journey to be human and real,

connected to the other, and to the best within us.

by Henry H. Walker

April 24, ‘23

East Meets West

 

the divine within

each of us is alone,

alone,

with inside us a piece of the divine

that knows within itself

the grandness that awaits

if we can but escape

the prison

of the illusion 

of our individuality,

if we can but realize the birthright within us,

the life within the seed,

that awaits its time to see the Sun,

to reconnect with the Source.

by Henry H. Walker

March 9, ‘18

engaging

 

the prime mover? the student

each age I work with does the best they can,

I love it when what I see,

what I can do,

actually helps them move forward,

I like to be of help,

but I work to not kid myself,

the prime mover is the mover itself,

and I am at best secondary

to what each student finds within themselves,

and how each works to find the way forward

by Henry H. Walker

February 14, ‘23

service to others

 taking care of one's self

the male in me seems to feel certain responsibilities:

I want to take care of those I know,

nothing pushes my interior buttons

more than defaulting on making sure

the house has working water, power,

or that there's something 

that I have forgotten to take care of. . .

my friend who just died

found purpose and success in taking care

of family, of any who came to him in need,

of any work reality that he felt needed him, fully,

I hoped for him to take a break more often,

to let another rise to the occasion,

to work more to meet his own needs,

in other ways than through service to the other,

I wonder if exhaustion finally took him,

and he had nothing left for himself, or for others,

maybe this is how he would have wished to go,

yet those of us who loved him wish

he had found more space in his life

to take care of himself, too.

by Henry H. Walker

March 31, ‘23

both conservative and radical

 

the middle schooler

middle schoolers are inherently conservative,

easily set firmly into opinions,

while the same middle schoolers are as radical as can be,

as each rides a whirlwind of developmental change,

no wonder the tendency for them

is to grab on to their own viewpoint, 

and hold on to it, with passionate firmness,

just as in the body politic,

our challenge is to reconcile 

the truth of different poles

that pull at us,

to hold true to history, 

to our values, 

to what makes each unique,

while embracing the future that opens us into explosive possibility,

our middle schoolers are propagandized by self-doubt,

the fear that each is imposter while others are real,

if each can solve the riddle of who they are,

the ordinary can become extraordinary,

and actor after actor can star in their own soliloquy,

and star in the drama the ensemble they choose,

an ensemble that creates something new

which pulls us all toward a better tomorrow.

by Henry H. Walker

March 22, ‘23

the fullness of a day

 

 a stunning wildflower day

the mountains still call to me,

"the mountains," our shorthand for our familiar Smokies,

where slope and stream draw us,

where ancient woods call us:

as new as each ephemeral wildflower,

as old and pregnant with memory 

as each stone revealed by time,

as the day creeps into being,

I sit down by the creek

and watch shape and color slowly return:

first rounded green mounds, 

soft with age and mystery,

with patches of light grey

where lichens prepare the rock for later moss,

green shades to black

as rhododendron leaves reach into the lightening sky,

silhouettes appear between my eyes and the sky,

lines appear, branches against the sky,

the forms of an art nature quietly, audaciously

expresses as imperative,

bush and tree reach from the ground toward the calling sun,

the early light is softly diffuse,

the world seems to slowly wake up,

it's as if each day we await the curtain's rise

and for the show to start,

the light subdued till all is ready,

effects of the Great Fire appear:

trees gone, others weakened and felled by great storms

that have worked through here,

falling trees wreak havoc 

when they crash against living trees,

the view before me a tangled mess

of trunk and limb not yet close

to the grand return unto the soil,

nature needs more time to clean up this mess,

for decades a great old pine's trunk has held its shape

and reached across the creek,

full enough of resin still to hold

as if in an open casket,

looking much like its old self,

its fall was from the normality of reaching its life-span

and giving up the ghost in a high wind,

as the day comes into its own,

we seek out favorite spots for spring wildflowers,

we find many to savor:

profusions of white trillium and fringed phacelia,

interspersed with trout lily, Dutchman's breeches, violets, and more,

spring has come quickly, though, and denied us our favorites:

the moments of glory of blood root,

the exquisite perfection of hidden wild ginger flowering,

yet, in the word of a fellow wildflower lover,

the world around us is "stunning,"

"stunning" is what each day walking in nature should be,

today fully fits that daunting charge.

by Henry H. Walker

March 30, ‘23