Alice and CMS

Alice started at her new middle school last week and she's a completely new person. So happy. So buoyant and free. So stinking excited to get and work on homework.

Sure, we're still in the honeymoon period, and coursework is still "reviewing" material they should have learned last year, and she hasn't had time to run into any friendship snags, but the radiant energy she's beamed ever since starting at CMS is a welcome sight in this house.

Every year, the whole school (42 girls enrolled in the whole school) goes on an overnight field trip to the 4-H camp at Allerton Park. Do you remember our outing to Allerton Park this summer? Dreamy.

Anyway, this field trip is aimed at building relationships and cultivating a cooperative, welcoming school culture. Parents are required to give 20 hours of service every semester, so there were plenty of parent chaperones the whole time. Including me. But I only stayed yesterday afternoon through the night hike.

It was an enormous experience to spend 8 hours with this engaging group of 12-14 year olds. Most of the time I just watched, soaking it all in, picking out Alice's laugh from the constant cacophony of singing, laughing, talking, shrieking, and pounding girls. I can't possibly describe everything I saw and felt and learned. I will share a few snippets that come to mind, though.

• I met other parents of 12-14 year old girls. I asked my questions. Got their input. Started building relationships.
• I started learning some of the girls' names. By the end of the night, I could almost pick out all 16 of the 7th graders from a lineup.
• I witnessed first-hand the kind of loving, supportive culture this school nurtures. First, it respects you as you are. These girls come from varied religious and racial and cultural backgrounds. They have different interests and needs. And not once did I hear or sense, "That's dumb" or "You're wierd/wrong" or "she's not like us". Second, everyone wants to see you succeed. When the school administrators told me this as we were looking into CMS as a possibility for Alice, I didn't really believe it. How could a pack of insecure middle-school girls want to support people out of their "in group"? But at the Lip Sync Extravaganza last night, I witnessed a 6th grader put herself out there and get up on stage alone, then halfway through the song she forgot her dance. She stood there for a moment, shrugging her shoulders. Then the teachers and students started clapping the beat and singing along. Not one person laughed. The girl started making up her own dance. When she ran out of ideas, an 8th grader hopped up on stage with her and the 6th grader followed her lead to the end of the song. As the 6th grader came down off the stage, she got boisterous applause and pats on the back and verbal support from girls of all grades for being brave and sticking with it and trying. I wanted to cry. I get goosebumps just thinking about it. I want my daughter to be that kind of supportive voice. I want my daughter to be that kind of gutsy and free and willing to take risks. One parent turned to me and said, "Can you imagine what this event might have looked like at a different middle school?" The contrast was striking.
• I felt relieved for Alice. A little sad for my own middle school experience. Grateful for so many parents invested in this school and their girls' futures. Impressed with what kids are capable of these days. Nostalgic for a time of close female relationships and few other responsibilities. Hopeful. I thought about my boys. A lot. I thought maybe we could host a family reunion at this 4-H Camp. I loved exploring Allerton again, this time on a night hike. And this time hearing my daughter be her kooky, talkative, funny self with friends just as kooky, talkative, and funny. I ache for her. Like I ache for all my kids. But after witnessing this school in action last night, I'm a little less worried overall.

Final 40th Year Goals Report

My time is up! Well, technically I have one more day, but I will not make any further progress in what time is left, so I'm calling it. Finished!

Here is where I initially made my 40th Year Goals.

I've made progress reports since then at the halfway point, 2/3 the way, and about 2 weeks ago.

This has been an interesting year...Alice starting middle school, me getting diagnosed with anxiety/depression, Bobby starting a new job, me traveling to new places, building stronger relationships with family, starting to heal old wounds, and facing some of my own deep-seated fears. I've learned a heck of a lot. These goals did push me to do things I might not otherwise have done, and they gave me a better perspective from which to view my daily task list.

But I didn't complete all of them. You'll see.

Italicized text comes from my original blog post:


By the last day of my birth month next year, I will...

...spend 40 quality hours one-on-one with loved ones (spouse and children top the list, but there will be more) 

DONE! And here's how I spent it:

...serve others outside my usual circle of loved ones (40 hours)

DONE! See the final column in the chart above.



...train for and participate in at least one major endurance event (preferably a physical one, LOL)

DONE! Many thanks to Allison, my training partner, for getting my head in the right place and my butt in gear after the anxiety/depression fiasco at Christmas.


...master something new

NOT DONE! I failed to achieve this goal, mostly because it was too poorly defined. When is something truly mastered? I could choose something so small and insignificant that mastering it would be meaningless, or I could devote my life to something meaningful and never master it in a thousand years. Sure, sure, I know there's middle ground. I just didn't find anything middle ground that I could master and feel good about. So, while I certainly tried a number of new things this year, I didn't master a single one of them. And that's okay. I'll know better when it comes to making goals for my 50th year ;)



...do something that scares me

DONE! I volunteered for Girls Camp, but they didn't need me. Or want me? I couldn't tell. But that doesn't bother me. I'm kinda glad I didn't have to go through with it. And I am convinced Alice did better without me there.

I also decided that I would finally face (one of) the nagging fear(s) at the back of my mind that I had let my former boss and long-time mentor down by choosing the life I did. It was scary to think that maybe I was disappointed in myself, too. I eventually worked it out that I wasn't disappointed in myself. Which was a relief. And I decided then that I wanted to contact my former boss/mentor again after all these years. I thought I would let him know how happy I was with my choices and such, but that felt forced. Artificial. Childish. What I really felt, after all this self-reflection, was an intense gratitude for his influence in my life at such a critical stage. I wrote this email instead and sent it (names left out):

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Hi XX,

This note comes out of the blue, and I apologize for that. I'm not the best at keeping in touch :) I do, however, often reflect on my undergrad experience, especially my 6 years in the XX lab, and I wanted to let you know that it has made a significant impact on my life. I've come to realize a few things:

1) You spent no small amount of time and energy and money training me. 

2) The lab was my home away from home, and its people became like family.

3) My experience in the lab shaped my young adulthood. I am a better scientist, collaborator, and critical thinker than I ever would have been without your training. Heck, I also have the coolest email address in the world because of you! 

4) In your lab, I practiced life skills like patience, hard work, persistence, and learning from failure. My coursework didn't demand so much of that from me.

Thank you for these things. Truly. I am a different and better person for having "grown up" in your lab, and I'm happy about that. Thank you.

That was the purpose of this note. Now, if you're interested, I can tell you a little about my life since I left the lab in 2003. 

I attended the University of Illinois and earned an MS in Nutrition Science and the Registered Dietitian credential in 2006. After graduation, I continued to work in nutrition research and took on some duties administering the RD Internship Program at the U of I. My husband, Bobby, found a software programming job with Motorola in town and we decided to stay long-term.

I had a daughter in 2007 and soon discovered that I could be the parent I wanted to be or be the researcher I wanted to be. When I tried to juggle both, I failed miserably at both. I decided that being a parent was more important to me than research and I've been doing that full time ever since. 

We now have 4 kids: Alice (7th grade), Robert (4th), James (1st), and Matthew (PreK). Bobby is currently a Senior Software Engineer at Nvidia. In addition to parenting 4 kids, I've spent countless hours volunteering and teaching in all sorts of ways. I've also started competing in triathlons. I'm at a bit of a crossroads next year when my youngest goes to school full time. There are so many things I'd like to do. Where to start?!

Thank you, again, for taking a chance on me way back when I was in high school. I'm so glad you did.

Susan

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I also attached a few pictures of me and my family. I felt satisfied knowing that I had faced my fear and come to terms with it: I wasn't afraid anymore because I didn't need his approval that way anymore. I was simply grateful for the experience. Does that make sense? Whether he wrote back or not, it didn't matter. Whether he was actually disappointed or not, it didn't matter. I didn't expect a response. I didn't need a response. I was at peace. Or so I thought.

Much to my surprise, I discovered a response from my former boss/mentor in my inbox this morning. It could be anything. Could say anything. Was I actually ready to read it? The initial satisfaction of "moving on" had passed and I was feeling a little insecure. I opened and dealt with every other email in my inbox before finally opening his. I was blown away by his thoughtful, kind, and thorough response (names removed):

***********************************************************

Hi Susan:

Thanks so much for writing. Really great to hear from you. And apologies for the late response. I just returned from a trip to Ohio. My daughter XX is just starting college and XX and I flew out to see her off and get her settled.

Impact works both ways and you have had a lasting impact on me and the lab in many ways, not least of which were your notable research achievements.

But just as importantly, you made important contributions to the culture and ethos of the lab. Curiosity, energy and enthusiasm are infectious and lead to all sorts of surprises and discoveries.

When I was a kid, my Dad said that he felt his responsibility to me was that I would be prepared to meet the world after high school, and if my choice was to go to college, that I would be prepared to go to any college.

So, when I decided to go to college, he was pleased, but he didn’t view my choice as the logical outcome of his parenting and encouragement. Rather, he was happy that he was able to give me that choice, which was one of many choices that I could make, any of which would make him feel satisfied that he had prepared me for life.

In some ways, that’s the way I think about how I train people in the lab: I encourage everyone to aim high, to do important science, to imagine new paths forward. If that process results in a great publication and experience that helps you pursue a career in research, that’s great. If it gives you the training and confidence to be an informed citizen and to make your mark on your family or community, that’s just as great. 

Talented people like you often face anxiety because they are good at lots of things and they don’t know how to decide on the “best" path forward. You could have achieved much had you pursued an academic career. You had the right temperament, curiosity, and above all, the right kind of logical mind, to do important creative science. Or to raise a great family, or to prepare your children for the challenges of the next generation. You had choices, and you made the right choice for you at that time.

I guess I’m writing about this because I sometimes reflect back on the students in the lab and question why they went one way or the other and what my role was in that process. After over 20 years of this, I realize that one can’t predict the future very easily, but one can make an impact on the here and now.

After you started at Illinois, I received a call one day out of the blue from a researcher in your program. He introduced himself and said that he felt compelled to call me because one day a young woman (you) knocked on his door asking about research. He said that it was the best thing that ever happened to him and he wanted to thank me for the best trained student he had ever encountered. Made me feel good, I must say. Just another example of how you are making your mark and why your experience is important and lasting.

The lab has grown and contracted and grown again. It has its cycles. We are now moving more towards some clinical applications and I have a great interest in the pathophysiology of Alzheimer’s disease.

Many of the same people are in the lab and I’m secure and happy in our community of scientists: XX, XX and XX form a strong nucleus that I increasingly rely on.

Thank you for the pictures and update on your family - you sure must have your hands full with 4 kids, all of whom look lively, energetic and whip smart (Any of them want to engage in genetics research in a supportive fun lab in Utah? :)

I’ve attached a picture I’ve found from our trip to the Wind River Range and some recent pictures of family, dog, and XX & XX in NYC.

Best wishes,

XX

 

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Here's the picture he sent from that lab camping trip. I hardly recognize myself.

So now, I am no longer afraid. I won't have that recurring nightmare of returning to the lab feeling ashamed, embarrassed, or second-rate. My former boss and mentor has yet again given me a fresh and fuller perspective on my life. And potential. I can't control my children's choices, but I can prepare them to make the best choices for themselves.


...fix something that's been bothering me a long time

DONE! Therapy is a beautiful thing.


...go somewhere new (bucket list?)

DONE! Phoenix, AZ, with Allison. Palymra, NY, with family. Taos, NM, with sisters. Fantastic!

Now to start planning my 50th Year Goals ;)

Piano for James

James started piano lessons today. And while he wasn't exactly thrilled at the notion when I initially brought it up, I know I found the right teacher for his particular personality. Here's how I know:

She's a grandma with a wicked sense of humor and a twinkle in her eye.

We knock on her door, she opens it, and says with a smile, "No one's home!" Matthew looks surprised, confused, and even starts to turn away. James gets a big grin on his face.

When we step into her foyer, she tells us, "We take off our shoes here." And as the boys get to work, she adds with a twinkling eye, "And if you don't, I'll whip you." Matthew freezes. James smiles wider. She asks, "Do you think that's true?" James gets a twinkle of his own and says, "No." They all laugh.

She pulls out a few puzzles for Matthew to play with and gets to work with James at the piano. My kids know her from church. She leads music time for all the children. James is familiar with her unique sense of humor and innocently subversive ways, and he already wants to impress her. He's not a relationship addict like Alice. He's not a chatterbox like Robert. He is James: reserved, watchful, curious, eager to learn new things and work independently, lover of mischief and unexpected surprises. And Nancy McNabb is full of mischief and unexpected surprises.

At the end of the lesson, she tells James he can choose three small pieces of candy. This, ladies and gentlemen, seals the deal. As we walk back to our car, James asks if he gets to come back tomorrow and get another lesson. He's a little disappointed that he will have to wait a whole week.

Yes. This will do quite nicely for my sneaky ninja pirate magpie.

Two recent pictures I just love

James and Matthew walking in Busey Woods. They are friends. They have their issues, of course, but most of the time they have fun together wrestling, acting out imaginary scenarios, and making each other laugh.

Bobby and me on a recent date. We biked 6.5 miles along the Kickapoo Rail Trail and ate dinner in St. Joseph, then biked back just as it started getting dark. We talked and talked and talked. We wouldn't ever do these sorts of adventures before Erin moved to town and started having the kids sleep over once a month. Thank you, Erin!

Pictures from Ohio

Fantastic ice cream (and sorbet) shop in Indianapolis on our way home. We will return.

Our requisite photo of the kids on the stairwell at the Garners' house. I just can't leave her home without it :) This is all 10 kids. Even Daniel! In the next year or two, kids will start moving out of the house and it will never be the same again!

Alice

Matthew's eyes.

At the falls. Robert and James had a falling out over who was in who's way for the perfect view of the waterfall. Hence Robert's disgruntled cooperation and James feeling all sorts of cool and powerful.

Before the falls. All the kids but Daniel, who felt too mature to climb into a rock crevice for a picture.

Robert, like all my boys, love to play at the Garners' house because it is all fun all the time. Here he's in full SWAT gear for some sort of battle exercise going on in the basement. I don't ask questions until someone starts bleeding.

This isn't the 32-mile ride I did with Rachel, but it was an awful lot like this: flat, shady, and off the road. Bliss! Here, we're taking a bike-and-train adventure with the kids who were too young for Civil War Summer Camp.

Just got off the train here where it dropped us off at the top of the trail. James and Matthew are watching it pull away.

Another thing I love about visiting the Garners: it feels like family. Our kids call each other cousins and fight to sit by their favorites. Their ages overlap so well!