Well, here we are...

This is exactly what Sam and I feel like today. In fact, we would not have gotten out of bed except that we were so hungry we thought we'd die. Since we have nothing in the house, we went over to Denny's and had a good breakfast, then came back and crashed again. We are currently waiting for a friend to bring us lunch and we are as grateful as we are hungry.

It seems that we are too old to be moving ourselves, ever again. Honestly, it is the worst thing I can think of. The two men who were going to move us called off the day of the move so I hustled about and got a student and his friends to help us. But that meant that Sam and I were out there lifting and moving possibly as much as they were. Now we are so sore and tired that we can hardly stand it. I have a splitting headache.

But we are in our new home and thrilled to be here. We keep commenting to one another how much we like it here, as we find some new feature that is nice. One not-so-nice feature is that every surface in the house is covered with a fine layer of dust or fine dirt. A place can't sit empty for 8 months and be clean. I didn't realize how bad it was until I got up this morning and found little Otis footprints all over the bathroom vanity where he had tried to drink out of the faucett (silly cat). Oh, the cleaning we have to do! And the carpet got even more dirty during the move. We really should have cleaned the house first, then moved in. But the timing didn't work out that way. So I'll be cleaning as I go.

Last week while we were waiting for the eternal escrow to close, our realtor suggested that we move all our things into the garage here. Even the agent of Deutsch Bank (the owner) said that no one would know if we did. We thought it was a silly thing to do, because we'd have to move everything into the house and it would feel like more work. So we sat tight and waited. Thursday night when we arrived and opened the garage, we saw that someone had been inside it and had removed the garage door opener (it is lying outside at the side of the house), and had forced the garage door up. It is now off track and will need to be replaced, which is unfortunate. But what is marvelous is that all these people found was an empty garage, not our things. The neighbor said he thought he saw the vehicle of the person who was here and it was a former owner. Apparently, it was the previous owner that also removed the jacuzzi and patio cover (some time ago), which we really would have liked to have. The man across the street said that three different people have lived here in the six years he has been here. So that makes one wonder. We love the house, more than we did when we saw it and we haven't seen anything wrong with it at this point.

We haven't lit the pilot light (or whatever it is that you're supposed to do) to the hot water heater. So we have been having bracing, cold showers in the morning. Actually, they are wonderful because it's so hot here that it's really not freezing--it does take your breath away though. We've been able to sleep with all the windows open because since we're up on a hill there is a delightful breeze every night that is quite a nice, mild temperature. We are looking forward to putting a curtain or blind over the balcony window by our bed--the sun shines right in on our faces in the morning, which we can live without.

Otis is adjusting pretty well. He spent the first day under the bed in the downstairs guestroom. Then he discovered the stairs and has been tearing up and down them. He hasn't slept with us yet but he did wake me up this morning because he was hungry.

So this is my update. I'm very pleased and boy, do I have a lot of work to do! Glad I have a vacation coming up--from the 25th - 19 August.

That's the news! I'm going to lie down and gather my strength again. If it weren't for the joy of having a new home, I'd say I'm just too old for this.

Still Here

Well...I'm sure stranger things have happened, but not to me.
Sam went off to work this morning as I dashed about cleaning cupboards and scrubbing out the showers, etc. He came rushing home from work at noon and after a bite to eat, we went out and brought the moving truck back with us.
I carefully coached Sam to back the 26 foot monster into the driveway and then came inside. The phone rang. It was our realtor telling us that our escrow has been extended till Thursday. Someone failed to check a little box and there we are: $2000 poorer and all our clothes and personal items packed up. Not to mention our dishes, bedding--everything except the TV packed up.
After raging about this, we signed the requisite papers and returned the truck. Thank goodness there was no charge for it. We got the phone, internet, electricity and Direct TV all extended to the end of the week. Furniture and appliance deliveries on hold. Called Sam's brothers and told them we aren't going to move tonight.
Well, here we are.

I guess I will have to get those articles written now. There is no excuse: I have two outfits that aren't packed up and nothing else but my computer and the couch.

On a more serious note, it dawned on me that God wants us to be able to roll with the punches. What we have here--furniture, timetables, details, take-out food or home-cooked--these do not really mean anything in the larger picture. It's how well we obey and follow our Lord, whether what has happened is coincidental or by a larger plan.
So as we go to bed in our curtainless house tonight, we will thank God for all that has happened and trust that whatever is going on is no surprise to Him.
I'll sleep like a baby tonight!

Moving

Just a quick note--we are moving today! Sam has gone to work and I'm here pulling the last things together before we go. I'm finding that there are lots of little cupboards and crannies that haven't been emptied yet. Also have to take down curtains and pack up the birdfeeders, etc. I'll be packing up the car and pulling everything together so when Sam gets here, we'll be ready to load the truck. Thank goodness for in-laws! My brother-in-law and our nephew will be helping us get moved. So it will be a long day.

On another note, Sam's father went into the hospital last night with what looks to have been a TIA (transient ischemic attack), a mini-stroke. His right side was paralyzed. Fortunately, his speech and orientation were not affected. Today he has a scheduled bone scan because his PSA (prostate cancer indicator) is very high. His doctor must be concerned that he has metastases. So please say a prayer for him and for my mother-in-law. Poor thing, as she was leaving the hospital last night she locked her keys in the car. AAA said they would be there within 75 minutes. As I told her, I'm glad she wasn't hanging by her thumbs for that time!

When it rains, it pours. But for now, we are both grateful to have the opportunity--after all these years of saving and being frugal--of buying a home we really like.
I'll be back after we get settled. Have a good week.

Domestic Wreckhood

We are in the midst of boxes and chaos in our home. With luck, we will be closing escrow on Friday. If not, it will be on the 14th. We can hardly wait.
So I need to say goodbye for a couple weeks whilst I put all efforts into getting packed and catching up on the writing that is due no matter what my domestic situation.
I will be back soon--toward the end of July. Have a blessed two weeks.

Renewed Day by Day

Found here

This week I'm teaching an intensive master's level course on group therapy. One of my colleagues teaches the class for three hours in the morning. After lunch the class breaks into three groups of students. Two hour-long groups are facilitated by teams of students in the room, followed by my discussion about what happened. We then process the feelings and answer questions that came up during the previous group experience. My job is to be the go-to person when the leaders get stuck or lead the group off, away from the work.

You would think that students would hate having to be vulnerable with one another and be group members, lead by their peers. They are told that they don't have to share anything personal. They can discuss their disgust over their lunch (D-list), their difficulty getting through their graduate program (C-list), the way they believe their family culture has impacted the way they interact with others (B-list), or things like their sexual orientation concerns or suicidal feelings they may have once had (A-list). On the basis of what I've seen and heard, the students went almost immediately to the B-list and a few are struggling with A-list issues (not listed here). The last couple year's students have told "horror stories" about how hard the class is and how the students should not plan to do therapy with their own clients during the class. I think they're right. The students leave at the end of the day feeling droopier and worn out more than the day before. And yet they come back the next day feeling rested, adjusted to the fact that they have divulged information to one another and given voice to some of their worst fears--and off they go again.

It reminds me of the Morning Glories growing over the fence at the side of the house. They are gorgeous in the morning: pristine, dew-covered (more like still wet from the sprinklers), open and full. In the heat of the sun they close and look dead. Right now they are these ugly little off-white shrivelettes dangling forlornly over the fence. But in the morning, they will be beautiful again: full periwinkle, luminescent blooms in a burst of color against the black wrought iron and trailing down from the cypress tree.

Every day this week, as I've sat on a couch off to the side of the group of students who are sitting in a circle, I've thought about resilience and near-death experiences. Yes, death. There are some things that if said aloud, make a person feel that they can't survive. There have been many, many tears in our group. Some people have said things that scared them, that they've never given utterance to before. Encouraged and supported by the other group members, they push ahead, making slow inroads into their own unexplored regions. I am convinced anew that the explored self represents some of the most difficult work in the world. And as students come back the next day, there is a new sense of peace and ease that they have about themselves. They are becoming therapists who are safe to work with troubled souls because they now have respect for the pain that comes from that internal stretch that it takes to grow. What an honor to share this with these wonderfully sensitive and gifted people.

Therefore, we do not lose heart.

Though outwardly we are wasting away

yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.

2 Corinthians 4:16

How do I do that?

This week the director of a large network of mental health clinics called me to say that one of my students who had signed on with them for a start date next week, had resigned. By email. Oh my goodness. "I was truly disheartened and very surprised by this, Barbara." (Her hesitant tone of voice with a decided irritated edge said "That student's behavior is unbelieveably unprofessional and I hope it doesn't happen with any more of your students!.")

This director just happens to head the same group of clinics that we have tried unsuccessfully for years to get our students into for their practica--with a stipend for their work. This paperless resignation was not good. I've enjoyed a very good relationship with the director since she came here, so I wasn't bothered about what she'd think of me. But I did have some responsibility to let the student know that this is not acceptable behavior.

Because I know Jane--let's call her that--I can say that she does not have one malicious or irresponsible bone in her body. She is conscientious, thoughtful about her work, and networks very well. She has considerable skill in seeing an organization and all its pieces, how it works, what it needs. But in the one-to-one realm she is sometimes short-sighted and naive. She probably didn't understand the system that we were trying to break into because it is unlike any other mental health system that I know. But I had encouraged her to work there because she needs the exact kind of experience she can get in their clinics, and she has considerable natural talent that I have hoped she would develop her skills nicely there. I asked her if she felt she could manage their scheduling requirements. Oh yes, she could multi-task. I discussed how important it was to keep forward motion on her thesis and that it is a challenge to do so. Now that she had resigned--oh, and did I add--one week before orientation was to begin, I needed explain that to her and tell her that it is never acceptable to resign via email, and that she should immediately write a letter of apology and resignation, using the words "unprofessional conduct" so the director would see that she recognized her mistake.

So I shot off a quick email to Jane:

I learned yesterday that you resigned at the county, and that you did this via email.
I can certainly understand that you need more time for your thesis, but to resign from a position one week before the internship starts, and to do it by email, is really unacceptable. You could have done this without realizing the gravity of the situation, but it puts [our school] in a very bad light. We have struggled for some time to build a solid relationship with mental health agencies in our area, so the importance of positive, professional interactions with their personnel cannot be overstated. When an agency offers a state grant-funded position and it isn't filled, there is the possibility that they may lose that funding for the position. This particular system is also such that contracts are ironclad and the power hierarchy is revered: ie., the job begins July 1 on the beginning of the fiscal year, not in August, and not by an area supervisor's consent--only by the director of behavioral health. Many clinicians and educators do not understand [this system] and all the hierarchy, rules, and expectations, as it is a culture all its own. However, we must work within it and respect it in order to maintain a collaborative relationship.
I want to urge you strongly to immediately write a (paper) letter to [the director] and apologize for your unprofessional behavior and offer your written resignation.
I trust that you didn't understand the consequences of your actions, but I hope that this will be an important learning experience for you.
Thanks,
Barbara



This email unleashed World War III. I am now a hyper-critical, mean-spirited, intolerant, quick to denounce, unprofessional and unprotective individual who lashes out in anger when my reputation is theatened. I have the horrid emails to prove it. How could you scold me with such anger? Huh? I didn't have angry bone in my body about what she did. I was concerned, surprised, and curious about what had happened, and in a rush. And I knew she was naive and unclear, and that she often calls me to ask for advice about what to do. I was sure that when I saw her I would share with her what had been said, commiserate with her about how hard it is to write a thesis, and that would be the end of it. But now, after three other outraged emails from her which have not diminished in intensity, I am having to recuse myself from her thesis committee because I doubt she will be ever able to hear any feedback I give without feeling attacked or thinking I am out to get her.



Two weeks ago I received shocking, accusatory emails from a different student whom I asked for documentation from her doctor after she had been 30-40 minutes late to every class that quarter. The excuse she gave me covered from 9 - 12, for one month. She is apparently having some extensive dental work done. Problem is, my class took place at 4:30 p.m. and there was no excuse for this. Since I routinely drop students half a letter grade if they miss more than one class without an excuse, I called her doctor to ask if it was possible that there were other visits beside what was indicated on the slip. He asked for the students name and then said she had only one appointment that extended into the afternoon. So her excuse slip was virtually meaningless as it pertained to our class.

Now I understand HIPAA regulations (patient privacy laws) and that he violated them by giving me information that I did not ask for. But I did not set out to violate her privacy and it was not incumbent on me to maintain the doctor's practices of confidentiality. But you would not have believed the hostile, inflammatory emails that I received from this student: "I am angered--no, I am inflamed--that you would conspire to break a federal law and destroy the job of the helpless secretary who handed you off to the doctor..." blah, blah, blah.



Each time I receive these emails, I am shocked. My immediate internal response is, "How could I have been so horrible? How could I have been so offensive, so insensitve, so ignorant?"

After caving in to one student's unreasonable demands, and then stating the facts with the second student, I thought maybe I'd swing back to the middle and find wisdom about how to deal with furious, accusatory students who suddenly become adversarial when they get straight feedback. And yes, my feedback is direct and clear. Most students would reply with something like this:

Dear Dr. H,

I'm sorry I didn't consult with you first before I resigned, and I didn't realize how unprofessional it was to resign via email. Especially since all my communication with the director was by email. I'll get the letter written right away. Thank you for drawing this to my attention. Jane.

PS--are you angry at me?"



Most students are respectful in word and deed. They go out of their way to demonstrate appreciation for the extras I do: seeking them out after class, inquiring about their wellbeing, sending them resources for papers or articles that are in line with their research interests. A good number come to me when they are upset about something in our department or are having a spiritual or emotional struggle. I've prayed with many students, discussed their concerns about people, faculty, issues. And none of this has happened before.



It could be that word has spread from a couple disgruntled students whose feet I have held to the fire and students are on edge. Or it could be that my feedback is too direct. But then, I received extremely direct (blunt) feedback from my professors at the University of Minnesota and I was happy for it. I challenged one of them one time, and it was in a most tactful and one-down position you can imagine. I was assertive but did not attack or accuse. These emails from my students have a hit-and-run quality to them.

Our faculty had a long discussion at our last meeting about how students come after us nowadays. It has been shocking to all of us and we are setting about to create a strong, unified stance as a group about what professional interactions are. As we tell them when they start, "Your professional reputation starts here and now. You would do well to think about how you interact with each other and your professors."



This is an issue that is very, very important to me to resolve. I am very direct by nature: New Yorker, Italian heritage, family norms. You say what you mean and mean what you say. But it is always said with a twinkle in the eye or a warm expression. (Unfortunately, that can't be conveyed via email). Many youth today are not used to being held accountable by parents, teachers, employers, etc. It is as though we are afraid of being harsh or hurting kids--so we don't say anything to warn or educate them--which hurts them more in the long run. As I tell my students, "I will always listen and try to understand things from your point of view. But you need to understand this about me: You can always count on me to be respectful but not necessarily polite. I will tell you things you don't like to hear because it may not be polite to say what I will say to you--but this is more respectful in the long run." This to me, is part and parcel of being a professor, a parent, a pastor, an administrator.



Then there's the whole Christian part of this: if I know my words have hurt someone, do I need to apologize again, beyond the initial shocked apology I sent her? If I have already given these caveats and explained my modus operandi, and this has been a matter of open conversation, then to be blindsided by vicious, adversarial (not to mention disrespectful and immature) responses, is this something to apologize for? For example, if I were to speak to Stepdaughter about her sloppiness and tell her that it is not what I expect from her and that wet towels left over wooden furniture damages it and that it needs to stop and that she can do better than that--do I apologize for this? Is it wrong of me to say this as long as I don't add editorial comments and qualifiers ("You always leave a mess" or "Will you ever learn?" etc.)? If I don't point these things out, don't offer those learning moments, can I say I am a parent at all? Do I somehow become a denatured, attenuated, bystander only, who is limited by rules of politeness? Now if Stepdaughter were to come after me and call me names or make accusations because I give this kind of feedback/mandate, do I let that pass because she is "hurt" or a child of divorce, or is hormonal? Isn't it incumbent on me to point out that I am willing to be disagreed with, even vociferously, but that I am still her stepmother and expect a certain level of respectfulness in her disagreement?



I could take the attitude that my friend, Olga, took when I told her about these students. "Are these people going to be working with other people's minds some day? And they act like this? Would you send a paraplegic to the front lines in the war? No! You can't send the wounded to fight to protect you and neither can these crazy people of yours work with people's souls."
But I am not able to say that in such a cavalier way. Because we are all wounded, we are all growing. We all have things that we need to learn and every one of us have rough edges. I include myself in that.

The Chair of my department read my email and when I asked if there was anything wrong with my direct email she said, "No. Any other student could take that but not Jane. She will always over-react. But to her credit, she will take what you say to heart and will learn from it and own her behavior." But do we want to let someone go through our department who leaves the university with our name stamped on her, and who will act this way with other authority figures in her future? I think not.
I have already dealt with this student when months ago, after she asked me a personal question and when I didn't answer it, said tersely, "We are finished with this conversation! There is no use in continuing to try to talk because you are not going to understand what I'm saying." She was livid. I was more so because we were standing in my office and she was excusing me from it! The director of the clinic and I had a frank discussion with her about her strengths, skills, and the feedback from us and from the other staff (and they thought she was irritating and arrogant). She resigned the next day even though we said we knew this was hard to hear but that we planned to support her and help her to stay at the job and learn from this experience. She later apologized but I don't think she really understood what had happened or held the director and I blameless.

Last month I finished donating over $2000 worth of free supervision to this student for work she did at a site where there was no supervisor. I gave her an excellent supervision evaluation and we reviewed what a pleasure it had been to work together and how much she had grown. One email and we're into the thralls of war.

If I hadn't been in such a rush the day I heard she had resigned, I could have called Jane on her cell phone and asked what had happened. The chance that she would have heard me as denouncing, accusatory and angry would have been between 2-5%. I could have taken more time to write a more coherent and articulate email. It never dawned on me that what I wrote would be viewed as an accusation and complete obliteration of her entire value because that was the farthest thing from my mind. My explanation of that has only seemed to fuel her wrath.

On a more personal note, I'm angry at Jane and the two other students for being so vindictive when I have merely done my job. These emails have hurt me more than I care to admit. I second-guess myself on nearly every interaction with students now. I want to hold my outrage to me and defend myself and my right to say what's what. But she is a young Christian who comes from a terrible, horrible family situation that I would not have survived, had I been her as a child. It is a miracle that she is where she is today. I wouldn't call her a "paraplegic" like Olga would, but she working against definite handicaps. (She's in therapy at my prior insistence). So in her case, do I have the right to insist on the fact that I am correct, even though my words hurt Jane? Or is the right thing to do, to apologize for the hurt and to reassure and challenge her to continue in her personal growth? I think so.
I have referred Jane on to the Chair, hoping that she will help clarify what was said and that this is within my role as Director of Clinical Training. And that I'm not a monster. That teachers give feedback, even if students don't like it. It is our job.

So I am crafting a letter of apology to this student: that she misunderstood and that I was in a hurry. That I still want the very best for her and that I will remove myself from her thesis committee. And that I believe she will graduate and do good work somewhere, someday. In the midst of this, I hope I am also growing past some of my own handicaps.

Truth or Dare

There is a television program called "Moment of Truth" put out by the Fox Network. I don't know what twisted mind concocted this, but it seems like yet another opportunity to value money over relationships, decency, loyalty, and morality. And this from the network that touts "Family Values" and a markedly conservative agenda.
On this program, the television host asks one participant questions of increasing intensity which must be answered correctly in order to win money. A lie detector test is taken before the show so the veracity of the responses can be confirmed. People can make up to $500,000 for honestly answering difficult questions. The participant's significant others sit on the dais and the camera pans in on their horrified faces as they hear their beloved one admit horrible things.
"For $25,000, have you ever done anything with a coworker that you know would be upsetting to your husband?" The woman squirms in her seat and the husband stares at her with dread, one eyebrow raised. She looks down with a guilty grin playing at the corner of her mouth.
Of course, she did. She admits that she "made out" with a man at work. Her husband looks at her with veiled disgust. The crowd gasps aloud and begins applauding. Clapping for what? For the fact that a woman just admitted to the nation that her moral fiber is weak? No. Probably for the fact that getting money is more important than preserving the dignity of oneself and one's intimates. As the host declares into the camera, "More contestants are willing to say anything for $500,000!" He then appears to collect himself and move from being glib to pseudo-cautious: "We understand that at the end of the game, we get to go home, but you go back to your life with your family. Do you want to go on?"
The woman smiles broadly and after a long pause, says "Yes!"
The crowd roars. "For $100,000, have you ever regretted getting back together with your husband?" Her husband is aghast and the crowd again makes an excited collective "Whoa!" sound. The camera pans over the faces of her good friends who are sitting across from her, looking ill.
The woman takes a deep breath and quickly says, "Yes" in a way that tells the observers that she had to give the correct answer before she changed her mind.
Finally, the host asks her, "For $100,000, have you ever (his voice emphasizes the word) regretted that you were with your husband?"
Now the husband looks sick. He puts his head down and his hand over his face. She smiles guiltily and the audience starts to fidget. "I need your answer, please," the host prompts. Her mother and friends facial expressions are saying loudly, You're in trouble now!
She squeaks out, "No." She looks at her husband as if to reassure him, but her eyes have lost their sparkle. She has clearly lied. This is verified by the woman's voice on the overhead microphone: "And that answer is....false."
That means the woman has lost all of the money and is going home empty-handed. After doing an emotional striptease in front of the whole country, she is also going home with destroyed relationships.
What is wrong with us that we as a nation think this is acceptable behavior? Why would we want to showcase people who would betray themselves for money? For whom money is more important than their relationships? Do they not realize what they are teaching youngsters who are watching such programming about truthtelling and the value of people who are close to us? Is everyone willing to sell out themselves to the highest bidder?

Rosenblatt and Wright wrote a very interesting paper that introduces the topic of "Shadow Realities." These are things that a couple know are present in the relationship but that instinctively do not discuss because of the potential for the destruction of the relationship. Every one of us has some sort of shadow reality: the thing you don't like about your spouse, the concern you have about a sibling's perspective, the reactivity of a parent. Behavioral scientists note that it is not necessary for therapists to identify or to bring all of these shadow realities into the light. One does not manifest emotional intelligence or maturity by uttering everything as it is, without filtering. Letting it all hang out is bad for heart health, in addition. But this idea of Shadow Realities is precisely what the writers at Fox have exploited.

Will we ever have programming that realistically depicts healthy relationships and communication (beside Super Nanny)? Probably not. It seems that humanity is pushing the envelope in ever new ways. Will the image of God in mankind be completely diminished before His return?
God help us.

Celebration!

Tonight I attended a party for one of my students who originally comes from Mexico. It was a marvelous gathering that consisted of my student, his family members, and his employers: the associate archbishop from the diocese of the largest county in the country and a couple church administrators. Someone had paid for a mariachi band to come and play. The singing and trumpets echoed down the neighborhood alley and people danced on the patio. Shrieks and aye-yi-yighs were deafening. Men surrounded the picnic table at the back of the house--they sang so loud that their neck veins stood out and their faces turned red. It was all happy, deafening music in Spanish. Women sang along at various points, swaying and clapping their hands. The dancing was a cross between flamenco and clogging. At one point they told me that they'd like to see me dance out on the patio. I would have liked to see that--it would be memorable to say the least!

My student just beamed when I walked up to the house. He met me with open arms and a kiss on the cheek, walking me inside with his arm through mine. I had forgotten how wonderful the warmth of Mexican hospitality could be. He couldn't get me food fast enough, or introduce me to the guests of honor quickly enough. Wouldn't I please have some of the cilantro chicken? How about salad? Wouldn't it be just the thing if I were to have cake and ice cream next? I had just eaten a large portion of home made tomato sauce with tortellini and salad at home so there wasn't any room left for another meal. But another meal was urged on me. I thought I'd just nibble a bit here and there. Nothing doing. The graduate and his wife hovered over me waiting for me to eat the next mouthful before putting a plate of fruit or piece of cake into my lap. I thought I might blow apart at the seams!

I fear that after an hour of yelling above the singing and dancing, and filling my face, I feel like Humpty-Dumpty. I certainly look like him tonight. It will be a long night since I can't imagine trying to sleep in this condition! But the happiness of my student, who was so thrilled that one of his teachers came to his surprise party, was worth the rotundity (is that a word) that the evening promoted. Now that school is out, I can walk miles and work off this meal. The glow of my student and his friends will not soon fade in my mind, and the happiness I felt as one of the honored guests was precious. Have I mentioned how much I love being a teacher?

Endings and Beginnings

Today was graduation and all my students publicly moved ahead to their next step in life: new jobs, home and family, further study, vacations, finally time with children. It was such a privilege to see the students walk down the aisle and get their diplomas--these whose lives I've been part of for the last two years. Some of these students are the first in their family to go on for a graduate degree. They have sat in my office and with tears coming down their faces admit that they're terrified of getting an advanced degree because they think they have to act different or speak differently, or that their families will be embarrassed of them in some way. And how are they to prove to their families that they are just the same as they always were? But we know that even though their love for their families will never change, they do change as people. So we've had these conversations that helps to socialize students into a professional identity. Today when their parents saw them in their regalia something changed.

This student's came to the U.S. only four years ago, speaking no English whatever. He is one of the most intelligent and gifted students I've ever had. He is beloved by all of his classmates, his employers and his beautiful family. Today on Father's Day, he had them all come to see him pass this milestone. In the fall he will be in my doctoral classes. I am bursting with pride.

Some students come from families who don't have much faith that they will do more than be able to survive adulthood. When you see someone who has tremendous potential and they don't see it, there is nothing like seeing it register on their face that you have faith in them. For awhile they look at you askance because they're unsure your judgment can be trusted. As it dawns on them that you're serious and you know what you're talking about, something happens to them. Slowly they start paying more attention in class, ask more direct questions, and in general, seem to find their own voices. When they turn to look straight at you as they get their diploma, that knowing look speaks volumes.

This is the son of one of my doctoral students--I told her to look ahead 20 years and think of him in his doctoral regalia. We all start somewhere. She brightened and took a deep breath. It's a very long walk.

Hand-me-downs

A very large box came in the mail today. The postage was over $38 and I wondered what in the world it could be. I am not having a birthday or any noteworthy event, so there was no way to predict what this could be. It was from my friend Lois, who recently moved to Orlando. Inside was a note:

Dear Barbara,

Please accept this in the spirit in which it is intended. In my early life I benefitted from clothes that were handed down to me from my cousin. It was like Christmas when Mom brought me a bag of my cousin's things because suddenly I had a lot of new things. So because you are my friend, I want to pass along these things that I can't wear here in Orlando. I'm bigger than you are, but some of these things will fit and are still pretty new. Don't be afraid to pass along anything that you don't want or doesn't fit.

Have fun!

Lois

I did have fun. There were all sorts of casual shirts, capri pants, and a couple dresses that I can wear. The yellow silk and chartreuse jacket will move on tomorrow. But in the meantime, I'm feeling really blessed to have had such a wonderful time today, plowing through this box and making stacks of things for a couple people who are really in need of things and will look terrific in these clothes that will fit them.
It was a flood of old memories as I pulled things out, oohed and ahhhed, gasped and laughed. When we were kids, my cousins used to send us things they had outgrown. Their mother didn't sew all their clothes like ours did, so their store bought things made us feel really hip--whatever that was back then. It was fun to wear something different to class after being sent these clothes.

My run-around wardrobe grew today. I'm grateful for friends like Lois who understands that it's not just the comfort in knowing the person you give your hand-me-downs to, it's the wonderful feeling of knowing that someone else thought of you.
It was a delightful gift.
Thank you, Lois!