Step back, buddy

So my summer camp students say, "We want to have a talent show."

So I say, "Sure."

And it went superbly well because I stepped back and let them run it.  Oh, yeah, I kept a finger on certain things - I vetoed their attempt to make it a competition with winners and losers, I figured out and operated the lights and audio system in the little auditorium - but mostly I just let them have their show.

When you say "sure" to kids, they have the opportunity to impress you.

One girl scheduled all the acts, went home and typed up an order of events, and then served as MC.

Another girl bought big award stickers and presented them to all participants afterward.

And the kindergarten class came to watch and laugh and cheer.

Then, at the end, someone said, "Let's have a dance party."

I said, "Sure."

And it was fabulously fun.

Walk It Off, Walk It Off

Classic Dad advice to his injured son (e.g., hit by baseball): "Walk it off, walk it off."

Today my son and I ran 65 minutes - probably about 9 miles, a medium-distance run for us - and my son had complaints about halfway through.  Cramps or something.  Itchy bug bites.

He kept wanting to stop, but I made him run through it.

Does that seem cruel?  Well, he thanked me afterward, and was fine.

I guess the genius of fatherhood is knowing when to say or not say, "Walk it off."

The one time I'm never patient with my students is when we're working on a dramatic production.  This week we've been working on an important acting skill: shutting up and paying attention when you're offstage.

Really, it's not like me.  My classroom is one of the noisiest in the school, though they're always productively noisy.  But when you're rehearsing ... it's different.  I think.

Hey, the play is next week.  And I have a wicked "IT'S GOTTA BE PERFECT" disability syndrome disorder going on (as usual).  But sometimes my behavior approaches that of the evil teacher I portray in the play.

The play's next Thursday, 31 May 2012, if you're in the Savannah area and ... you know.