Posts Tagged ‘school’

My younger daughter is encouraging me to continue my education. I am actually considering it. The kids have flown the coop and I am not ready to be put out to pasture quite yet.

So I started slowly exploring it. Not even to complete a degree but because I am so very curious about things. Not calculus. No, not that. Other subjects. 🙂

My first on-line search was a nearby private, liberal arts university. Would be super convenient. I typed in the address to access their website. Was a bit dismayed when I found the description of their program that would suit an adult learner like me.

skoolhelp

I then started poking around the website. The errors in grammar and spelling throughout the site were more than a few.

Now, nobody’s perfect. I totally get that.

But I am allowed to make all the spelling mistakes in the world. Because I am a learner. Not an institute of learning!

Of course, I feel it’s my duty to let them know that their website needs some attention.

Side note: I also let a local long-standing brewery know that their web page needed a spelling correction. And kept the administrator of an author’s Facebook page in the loop when errors glared. Can’t help myself.

If someone has a business or product they want to sell then I think it absolutely needs to be done properly and professional. On-line or not.

It is no different than the receptionist at a Doctor’s office. It helps form the first impression and is a representation of your business. Or how you do business.

Now, let me git bak to explorring mi opchins for furtha edukacation.

 

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I read an article that was just terrible. I know. I know. So many articles out there are terrible.

This one was about a young lad who was in a Welsh medical school.

Seems he had a fling with a young woman. Also a student. That has been known to happen. So far. So normal.

He then chose to share this information with his rugby buddies in a private on-line group.

That’s where it started to go bad.

His “pals” decided to share his postings with hundreds of others on social media. And the young lady became aware.

Who knows how she reacted.

The fellow then becomes worried that his words could even cause expulsion from the school.

He hanged himself.

I don’t know all the details. The newspaper gives you bits and pieces.

But this is how I imagine it all.

Girl is absolutely mortified. The sheer embarrassment of it all.

Boy is now mortified that this information was shared. Maybe feels shame and guilt once he knows the girl is aware of what he shared.

Feels hopeless. Can’t imagine that this will ever fade. Starts to think that even his future is doomed if the school expels him.

This could have played out in a few different ways.

The young woman might have been the one unable to handle the situation.

Or there could have been apologies on behalf of the boy. Maybe a suspension.

Life could go on. Human beings make mistakes all the time.

But there is no going back in this particular case.

Just devastated people left behind. Grieving parents.

So many lessons to be learned.

We need to be kind. Especially on social media.

We need to be better at using social media responsibly. Think about the consequences of our words and actions.

It wouldn’t ever hurt to use that quote we have all heard. Before speaking (or writing) ask yourself these three questions. Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary?

There is a “gofundme” page as a result of this death and it states that the money will be used for projects and forums aimed to avoid a reoccurrence of a similar tragedy.

I certainly hope that those projects and forums will be successful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Just going to share a few photos that were taken the past few days. I never get tired of the sights, sounds and smells of KL. Well, maybe, on occasion, some of the smells. But my eyes are still wide open after more than a year of living here.

Husband and I headed into town on Sunday to have a foot massage. They’re big in Asia. Really big. Reflexology shops in every plaza. Sometimes those blinking green neon foot signs are competing with three other parlors on the same block. It’s inexpensive. Compared with the States.

The fish spas are a big tourist attraction. They have one in the place we frequent but I have never experienced it. I just can’t. And not because the school of little Nemos suck on your dead skin. Like piranhas without the teeth. Gumming away. They are called Garra rufa fish. They also call them hungry if there aren’t any customers.  My problem is having other people’s feet in the same foot spa as mine. For God’s sake, I don’t even like my husband’s toothbrush touching mine. And let me just remind everyone. If you’re eating, you’re excreting. And those lil guys are eating.

School days.

School days.

Seats for many. Not for Mary.

Seats for many. Not for Mary.

Lovely painting in the spa.

Lovely painting in the spa.

More photos of things that just caught my attention. For one reason or another.

Fattoush. A lovely salad.

Fattoush at Marosh. A Syrian restaurant.

When it's singular it almost seems like they already caught the guy.

When it’s singular it almost seems like they already caught the guy.

The new Oreo?

The new Oreo?

Freeze dried durian. Who knew?

Freeze dried durian. Who knew?

Hush! Just eat your porridge!

Hush! Just eat your porridge!

Have a look. Tell me what item seems a bit out of place.

Have a look. Tell me what item seems a bit out of place.

Not sure if you can see this guy. Plenty of rats. Near the carrot cake place.

Not sure if you can see this guy. Plenty of rats. Near the carrot cake place.

You'll see these in many places.

You’ll see these in many places.

Quick stop at the mall. It's okay if I say things like cutie baby but when shops use nouns as adjectives I just don't like it.

It’s okay if I say things like “cutie baby” but when shops use nouns as adjectives I just don’t like it.

So happy to see that deodorant is the great equalizer of race.

So happy to see that deodorant is the great equalizer of race.

Just texting each other.

Just texting each other.

Not a pumpkin. A tandoori oven at Annie's school.

Not a pumpkin. A tandoori oven at Annie’s school.

Cutlery drawer at Annie's school. Miso soup spoons and chopsticks.

Cutlery drawer at Annie’s school. Miso soup spoons and chopsticks.

Hope you enjoyed the photos. I truly enjoy and appreciate this wonderful opportunity to live in Kuala Lumpur. Not just for one reason or another. But for many reasons.

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I attended a school meeting yesterday. The new head of school was introducing some of the faculty and also telling us a little bit about herself.

She worked in Saudi Arabia for thirty years. She and her husband were educators. About eight years ago her husband had open heart surgery. He did not make it through the surgery. She said she did not lose just her colleague, husband, and father of her children that day. But also her very best friend.

Of course, my eyes filled up. I really felt her words.  A reminder to enjoy as many moments as I can with my husband. I would be lost without him.

The next thing she relayed was a story about her son. She and her husband had adopted two children from Taiwan. When her boy was about three years old he piped up from the back seat of the car, “I don’t look like everyone else.”

She told him that he will meet many people with different skin colors, different shaped eyes, and different sizes. None of these things really matter. She said, “It’s what’s here.” And she put her hand to her heart. “It’s what’s in the heart.”

Of course, my eyes filled up. I really felt her words. Another reminder of what is truly important. What is in a person’s heart.

Sure, she talked about many other things.

But the two things that I walked away with were invaluable. I wish all meetings were like that.

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I remember when Rory was in high school. One evening, she was dutifully attending to her studies in the home office. She randomly yelled out to me, “Mom, do I have a curfew?”

Someone must have just asked her this question.

Okay, I have to admit there was that moment of “Oh my gosh, I knew there was something I forgot!” And then the following moment of “Oh my gosh, all the good parents have curfews for their children!” And then the culminating few seconds of, “I failed miserably as a parent!”

Then I snapped back to reality. And answered the kid who was doing non-stop school work.  With a rhetorical, “Why? Do you need one?”

No. She did not have a curfew. Even if the town did! Because every situation, every outing really depended on who she was going to be with, what they were doing, and where they were going to be. That was the important thing to us. Simple as that. We decided on a case by case basis.

Every kid is different. Rory didn’t need a curfew in high school.  And that was our decision as parents. Did not matter what other kids or parents were doing.

Believe me, we have made plenty of parenting mistakes. That just wasn’t one of them.

The reason I remembered this today was because I was with a group of parents. Most of whom had eighth graders heading to high school. There were questions.

One was, “What age do they date?”

And the answer is this. When you allow them.

There is a whole lot of information that needs to be examined. Your personal views on dating. Your views as a family. What does “dating” even mean? Does it mean they “like” each other from across the lunch room?

And then you make the best decision for your child. You try to be flexible. But you listen to your gut. What leaves you comfortable. No caving in to adult peer pressure. Or to the whining of your child due to their own peer pressure.

Does not matter if the issue is curfew or dating. Applies to any decision we make for our children. We are the parents.

We all make mistakes. But if we really listen to our guts then we just might make fewer.

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Annie is settling into her new international school in Malaysia. Second week almost completed! She even joined the soccer team. Oops, I mean football. Even our vocabulary will change. When she came home and told me she joined the football team I had visions of her one day playing the fullback position for the New England Patriots. With her grandfather and uncles as proud as Punch.  But no, it’s a soccer team.

She is making friends and meeting kids from everywhere! These kids have moved all over the world with their parents. Some have never lived in their passport country. They’ve resided in China, Dubai, Sweden, Mongolia, Turkey, Vietnam, Korea, Brunei, England and many other places. I only mention it because I think this makes a special kind of kid. They’re used to being in unfamiliar situations. They know what it’s like to always be the “new” kid. And I think it makes them a bit more compassionate. Everyone seems to be kind to each other.

Yesterday one of the girls in Annie’s class was coughing. The teacher heard her but said that she was sorry. No one was allowed to leave after the period began.

The teacher turned her back and got busy with something. And then one girl across the room pulled out a bottle of water. And passed it on to the next kid. He, in turn, passed it along to another. Until it reached the girl who was coughing. The bottle passed through about ten hands.

The teacher was none the wiser.

But the kids were. And I think that is really cool.

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Crying Wolf

I couldn’t believe it when Annie was starting school again last September. It was hard for me to believe. Time was flying like crazy! And time flying is not the only thing around here that is “like crazy.”

My Annie knows this and is constantly messing with us.

The night before school was to commence, my husband asked incredulously, “She’s going into eighth grade?”

I shrieked, “She isn’t! Seventh!”

She pipes in, “Eighth!”

I nearly had heart palpitations thinking she had only one more year before high school.  After taking a sudden leave of my senses, I returned quickly and said, “Knock it off. We’ve got enough to get confused about without your nonsense.”

Later on, I asked her what number she wanted to choose for her soccer jersey.

She said, “#12”

I said, “That’s easy. Just like your age.”

She said, “I am thirteen.”

Okay, I tried to do the math, got confused about carrying the one, then tried to remember the year (the one she was born in and the current year) and then said, “fuggedaboutit.” Thirteen it is!

Then, as I was tucking her in she mentioned something she needed for school. I just said, “Well, sure you do, just like you are thirteen and in the eighth grade.”

She says, “Oh no, I am like the boy who cried wolf! No, I really need it for school!”

Just like I really need a kid who doesn’t mess with me.

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