The Mechanic and the Surgeon

As we drove to the auto shop on Woodbine, I thought about the similarities of a surgeon and auto mechanic boss. Both deal with life and death everyday. Both are responsible for the outcomes in each case. I thought of the mechanic we deal with. Problems arise with vehicles, all the time. Sometimes these problems are a mystery. Having 'broken down' in the middle of a busy road, one morning, months ago, near the main intersection during morning rush hour was a moment of horror. One wrong move from traffic or me and I could be in the coroner's 'office'. 

I could sense that my car was dialing down seconds before that moment when it simply stopped working. I shook momentarily before I slowly drove it to the side, hazard lights flashing. Thankfully, my out-of-date, still working, low battery flip-phone, allowed me to call my husband first, my son, second - if he was in the area, then my mechanical 'doctor'. I was shocked my phone let me do all of this before time ran out on it. I guess the original problem was still with us, I thought. 

I did not know what was going on and I was the owner of this 'tank' for nearly 20 years. It had failed me again. Why? Road side service arrived. It had been only a few days since my car had been returned to us. Now what? That first part sent was sent in error. And it took time for that to happen, of course. But still this was not a crisis. Help had been here in all forms. At least my Mr. Wiggles was at home, safe and sound, unlike his first step into automobile breakdowns.

I had not expected my antique phone to accommodate me that morning for three calls. But it did. I was shocked. And at 27 years, not bad. Mr. Tony Robbins, coach extraordinaire/investor, reminded an on-air audience, recently, that buying a new phone every year did not bode well for financial acuity. The money invested - each year - during a 20 year period, if invested smartly, could net over $200,000. My. My. A new phone or financial security. The answer is clear. And mine was just fine. It was a relic of the past. So what. I'm not!

The car was serviced again, then off we went home - for a few kilometres. Again? No kidding. This time my husband had been following me home. In short order he was here along with two mechanics one of whom had nurtured my car for many days. He was upset and most apologetic without saying so. My 'tank' was slowly becoming an enigma. Then another part, inbedded deep inside and rusted through, had been found, tormenting us all along. More wait times and a new part to install. Would normalcy ever return? 

I trust my mechanic, the master of all things mysterious in vehicles, large and small. He is like a surgeon discovering the problem, ordering the parts and installing everything correctly. Lives depend upon his team of magicians. When my car stopped on a main road, then on a secondary one, then near a rush hour intersection, just for laughs, I knew help was near. I was lucky in so many ways and comforted knowing these mechanical experts knew what they were doing. I certainly did not. Thank you, guys for your comfort, your knowledge and experience. Where would we all be without you? Nowhere, probably. And stranded by the side of the road, again.

 

Core Knowledge: Update!

I have wondered, from time to time, why my lesson plans were declined. Decades ago, I had the pleasure of finding the web site of the American educational powerhouse, Core Knowledge, a place that encouraged teachers from across the country to share lesson plans. I was new to the online world and too busy with home life to begin to know what to do with this new direction. But I had to try. I knew too much to keep it to myself. I thought about that moment the other day and decided to give it another go. Times have changed and I never give up.

Though a Canadian, former special needs high school teacher and 'award' winning parent volunteer, I submitted my plans only to be declined two years in a row by the powerhouse, Core Knowledge. Yeast dough really worked its magic on those deemed special education. Was it not special enough?, I wondered at the time. The elementary school where our former preemie boys attended thought this dough was quite remarkable. The principal and the primary intensive language teacher were excited to see the miracles happen. The teacher also happened to be the primary lead teacher of this school. Student lives were beginning to change. And so was mine.

I wondered if the lack of money-maker status was the reason no one wanted to further investigate yeast dough and its powerful effect on. Profit was never a motivator. Lost student potential was.

The best inclusive educational idea should be easily available to all requesting it. Time standstill for no one. Children's formative childhood is precious, oh so precious. Was it the mess that educators feared when working with yeast dough? It was a gym class to behold, among other things.  Gluten was here, up close and very personal. It was an all-inclusive curriculum wrapped up in yeasted dough. The students eagerly awaited those mornings.

Early learning is messy and noisy, at times. Had I submitted something that simply made no sense to anyone? The class was learning to bake, using all five senses of the body. (They say there is a sixth sense -proprioception.) For me and the teacher, these little humans were immersed in the exciting world of thought. Children cannot think abstractly. Dough, in all of its manifestations, was showing them the way.

In Momsey's world, yeast dough, as written about early on in my blogging career -beginning in 2012 - was about freedom of expression, questioning and the confidence to stand and be heard. Learning took root immediately. 

Children with special needs require an educational approach that is exciting, thought provoking and just plain fun. Is that not the purpose of learning for all? Every attempt to stimulate the young learning mind must be done and yeast dough does it every time.

Soon, my child-like, puppy dog mind will begin anew.