Summer Lessons on a Train Ride
School will start again for my students on Monday, August 13th. I am very excited about this. It's a good feeling to look forward to seeing them. Some will be with me 3 years; others will be new. I have plans to use a different theme to keep it fresh for the students who have been in my class before; plus, this keeps it fresh for me and my para-educator too. I am lucky to have an assistant 3 to 4 hours per day. With her help, we can offer more attention to the students. With her feedback , I keep my sanity when it comes to analyzing and documenting students' progress and testy behavior.
Of course, I will have that traditional writing assignment: "What did you do this summer?" And of course I can model that by what I did. So written below is my draft of one of the things that I did: (Again, this one is for you, Donna.)
Summer Train Ride
It had been over 25 years since I took a train ride to Union Station in Los Angeles. The last time was when I was 25 years old when I rode south from San Luis Obispo to meet my parents and grandmother so that we could go to Olivera Street for my birthday. So this was a little nostalgic for me. But, it is also out of necessity because my hands have trouble holding the steering wheel of a car due to my arthritis. (Besides mentioning that since I do not normally drive in the traffic congested freeways of Southern California, I am a white knuckle driver anyway.) I needed to find a way to get away.
My daughter and grandchildren were going to OC (Orange County) so my daughter suggested that she take me to visit my friend, Donna, in San Diego. Scared as heck, when I heard her say that I could take the train back to Lancaster to drive the short (normal for me) distance home. Summer was nearing an end, and all I really had to show for it was lots of tomatoes and squash from my garden and some files sorted and a little painting done. I did not even blow up the big wading pool or have more than one BBQ.
Eating at me more was that I had not seen Donna in over 3 years pushing 4. At that rate, I might get to see her 4 or five more times in my lifetime if I get to live to my ripe 70's. She is not the only friend whom I never get to see because it is hard for me to drive long distance, and the airport is a long distance to consider driving to in order to fly as well. So my new adventure in life is learning how to use the Metro to get to the main train station or to the shuttle for the airport. I mean learning to the point where I will be comfortable like when it was easy to drive. It's an exercise in keeping my independence as I age. So on with the ride.
Lesson number one: Allow myself more time to get my ticket and get on the train with time to spare. That last minute stuff is hard on the old ticker. It was an adrenaline rush that did make the adventure more exhilarating .
The conductor said he'd collect the tickets from us when we are on board. He wore a cute coat and hat and made me think of Tom Hanks in the Polar Express. He could tell I was apprehensive. He swung his arm for me to go to the upper deck and said, "Get on up there and make a new friend." To recall this warms my soul.
Lesson two: Make a new friend? What a novel thought. It's all about meeting old friends and making new friends.
My friend and her mother asked me about my apprehension. It was kind of hard to put my finger on. But, part of what is scary for me is getting on and off the train in a timely manner. As the train approaches a stop, the engineer gives like a one minute warning, then you have to get ready to de-board in the next minute and getting off is even quicker on the metro. I have seen people get their belongings or baby strollers stuck half way in the doors as they close. With my arthritis, I do not move very fast; so, coming up with an adaptation strategy is about the timing.
(Side Bar: I even feel pressure in the check out line at the grocery store because I do not write a check fast enough for the clerk or the people behind me. I am not even really aged yet. I see my dad [21 years my senior] has trouble getting change in or out of his wallet and hear people yell at him to move faster in his car [and he drives fast enough]or show impatience when he uses his walker.... It makes me anxious about getting any older and slower. So it's about writing a check that gives me back zero coins. It's about sitting down to write my check to a doctor's office instead of doing it at the counter with people behind me.)
Lesson Three: It's about being assertive enough to ask for help lifting my bag and realizing that if you make your condition known, most people are willing and wanting to help. And for those that don't, well, what goes around comes around; they will be older some day. Once I was seated on the train for the long haul, I was able to relax. I am glad it was not so crowded that I would have to stand; apparently from what I had heard, it can get that crowded. In this case, it sucks to looker younger than I am. Vanity or vanity...
It amazes me how so much can interfere with this story of the ride itself:
The train was facing south and I was going north. The steward must have seen my worried look and assured me the train would turn around when in actuality...
Lesson Four: it just reverses engines; the back to the train becomes the front of the train, and off we went. It's not a bullet train so we get to see the scenery. Like out of any train station, there are a lot of industrial buildings and down trodden neighborhoods. Each has stories to tell, and I could imagine lives and occupations much different from my own and that all of these diverse entities make this world work in unity.
Lesson five: Being on the train to observe the vast mass of industries made me feel connected to a fabric or network instead of just driving along my own thread in life. When I am in my car or even my home, I really am in like a bubble, isolated.
On the first stop in Solana, up popped a perky, yet beautiful Hispanic college gal. And with enthusiasm, she claim her seat next to me by happily stating, "I am going to sit next to you all the way to LA!?!" I thought, "My, oh my, what a happy, confident girl and what an honor that she chose to sit next to me." Honestly, it kind of chokes me up to feel welcomed like that by a beautiful intelligent young person. We made small talk for about one third of the trip. I shared with her how isolated I have felt and how much I miss my friend. We talked about her boyfriend and their majors, goals and dreams to be doctors. Then I talked about my college, I even cried. I shared with her that I never felt smart enough to go to college, but I was encouraged by a friends who were scientists. And look at me, I made it to become a teacher. She got a little emotional too and acknowledged that she has a lot to look forward to in life. We settled into our seats saving them for each other when we got up to use the restroom or go to the club car.
Lesson Six: It's okay to show vulnerability and to bond temporarily. (It's also good to have someone save your seat.)
The breathtaking views of the ocean, the variety of vegetation, three estuaries where the fresh and salt water meet and watching people frolicking on the beaches with the bright colored umbrellas, towels, and toys really made it feel like a summer vacation. It made me feel like I was getting to see the masses of people living the way life should be lived.
Lesson Seven: "Do something!" like spend a day on the beach, even if it means take a bus to do it.. I could tell who were people of habit taking their constitutional jog or stroll on the designated pathways trimmed with sand and the occasional foot bridges. Life took on this image of goodness and safety in more places than not. Being on the train was like having a vantage point of the probability that there is more good in the world than evil; so ...
Lesson Eight: is to not be so afraid of getting out.
There was a conductor in the club car selling all sorts of cool prepackaged food. (I bought some gourmet cheese and crackers from him.) His personality exuded goodness, and innocent fun for making the train ride a holiday. As we got on our way, he sang a little train song. When we were approaching Del Mar, he sang a song about that race track. When we paused at the Anaheim station with a view of the stadium, he sang the "Take Me out to the Ball Game" song. His voice was so sweet; it made most of us giggle like kids. The engineer would toss in historical tidbits every now and then. All in all, the staff made it feel like we were on a long monorail ride at Disneyland, but that the Coast to LA was our personal amusement park.
Lesson Nine: I do not have to go to an amusement park to be amused.
Time flew by, and this part of the ride was over. We reached Union Station. My seat mate helped me down with my bag, and we wished each other well. There was a lot more hustle and bustle with everyone debarking and going in a multitude of directions. Fortunately, I had 45 minutes to find the ticket counter for the Metro to Lancaster. It's obvious to me and some train staff that I was a novice about this process. Some acted as if I was too naive, but others were quite accommodating and refreshed that I was new to using their service. I actually was so early that I did not realize I was standing next to the train I was supposed to get on. I asked the luggage porter about the train, who had to point to the lit up sign to Lancaster on the side of the car. The steward in charge of my section of the car arrived a few minutes before we pushed off. He was a polished, yet casual fellow, with an air of confidence like a flight attendant. I got the impression he was well versed at his job, and he made me and others feel welcome and safe. So I got to look at his fine face and fanny for the trip home.
Lesson number Ten: Try to get on a car that has a confident cutie for an attendant.
On the way home I sat mostly with working ladies who use the metro daily or at least weekly. We talked about the various plant life we saw a long the way, where we live and the advantages of using the rails. As one of the ladies gets off she tells me to be on the look out for Tippy Hedron's Wild Cat Shelter called Shambala. It made me feel like a kid to anticipate seeing this. Again it was like a Disney experience, but not artificial, for real, it is not everyone that gets a bird's eye view of this. Only those special enough to treat themselves to a train, or plane ride, or personally investigate how to visit this sacred place.
Lesson Eleven: I need to get out and do more in my local area.
By the time I got to Lancaster the last stop for people to get off, it was crazy as everyone was dismounting the train and loading up in the cars or getting picked up. It was a bit of a rush to be with all of these people, but again, I was part of something a unique segment of society does daily. I was not alone, even though I was on my own. As I approached my car, I heard unusual music coming from the main Boulevard. I realized that I had arrived in my hometown in time for a street festival and outdoor concert.
It had been over 25 years since I took a train ride to Union Station in Los Angeles. The last time was when I was 25 years old when I rode south from San Luis Obispo to meet my parents and grandmother so that we could go to Olivera Street for my birthday. So this was a little nostalgic for me. But, it is also out of necessity because my hands have trouble holding the steering wheel of a car due to my arthritis. (Besides mentioning that since I do not normally drive in the traffic congested freeways of Southern California, I am a white knuckle driver anyway.) I needed to find a way to get away.
My daughter and grandchildren were going to OC (Orange County) so my daughter suggested that she take me to visit my friend, Donna, in San Diego. Scared as heck, when I heard her say that I could take the train back to Lancaster to drive the short (normal for me) distance home. Summer was nearing an end, and all I really had to show for it was lots of tomatoes and squash from my garden and some files sorted and a little painting done. I did not even blow up the big wading pool or have more than one BBQ.
Eating at me more was that I had not seen Donna in over 3 years pushing 4. At that rate, I might get to see her 4 or five more times in my lifetime if I get to live to my ripe 70's. She is not the only friend whom I never get to see because it is hard for me to drive long distance, and the airport is a long distance to consider driving to in order to fly as well. So my new adventure in life is learning how to use the Metro to get to the main train station or to the shuttle for the airport. I mean learning to the point where I will be comfortable like when it was easy to drive. It's an exercise in keeping my independence as I age. So on with the ride.
Lesson number one: Allow myself more time to get my ticket and get on the train with time to spare. That last minute stuff is hard on the old ticker. It was an adrenaline rush that did make the adventure more exhilarating .
The conductor said he'd collect the tickets from us when we are on board. He wore a cute coat and hat and made me think of Tom Hanks in the Polar Express. He could tell I was apprehensive. He swung his arm for me to go to the upper deck and said, "Get on up there and make a new friend." To recall this warms my soul.
Lesson two: Make a new friend? What a novel thought. It's all about meeting old friends and making new friends.
My friend and her mother asked me about my apprehension. It was kind of hard to put my finger on. But, part of what is scary for me is getting on and off the train in a timely manner. As the train approaches a stop, the engineer gives like a one minute warning, then you have to get ready to de-board in the next minute and getting off is even quicker on the metro. I have seen people get their belongings or baby strollers stuck half way in the doors as they close. With my arthritis, I do not move very fast; so, coming up with an adaptation strategy is about the timing.
(Side Bar: I even feel pressure in the check out line at the grocery store because I do not write a check fast enough for the clerk or the people behind me. I am not even really aged yet. I see my dad [21 years my senior] has trouble getting change in or out of his wallet and hear people yell at him to move faster in his car [and he drives fast enough]or show impatience when he uses his walker.... It makes me anxious about getting any older and slower. So it's about writing a check that gives me back zero coins. It's about sitting down to write my check to a doctor's office instead of doing it at the counter with people behind me.)
Lesson Three: It's about being assertive enough to ask for help lifting my bag and realizing that if you make your condition known, most people are willing and wanting to help. And for those that don't, well, what goes around comes around; they will be older some day. Once I was seated on the train for the long haul, I was able to relax. I am glad it was not so crowded that I would have to stand; apparently from what I had heard, it can get that crowded. In this case, it sucks to looker younger than I am. Vanity or vanity...
It amazes me how so much can interfere with this story of the ride itself:
The train was facing south and I was going north. The steward must have seen my worried look and assured me the train would turn around when in actuality...
Lesson Four: it just reverses engines; the back to the train becomes the front of the train, and off we went. It's not a bullet train so we get to see the scenery. Like out of any train station, there are a lot of industrial buildings and down trodden neighborhoods. Each has stories to tell, and I could imagine lives and occupations much different from my own and that all of these diverse entities make this world work in unity.
Lesson five: Being on the train to observe the vast mass of industries made me feel connected to a fabric or network instead of just driving along my own thread in life. When I am in my car or even my home, I really am in like a bubble, isolated.
On the first stop in Solana, up popped a perky, yet beautiful Hispanic college gal. And with enthusiasm, she claim her seat next to me by happily stating, "I am going to sit next to you all the way to LA!?!" I thought, "My, oh my, what a happy, confident girl and what an honor that she chose to sit next to me." Honestly, it kind of chokes me up to feel welcomed like that by a beautiful intelligent young person. We made small talk for about one third of the trip. I shared with her how isolated I have felt and how much I miss my friend. We talked about her boyfriend and their majors, goals and dreams to be doctors. Then I talked about my college, I even cried. I shared with her that I never felt smart enough to go to college, but I was encouraged by a friends who were scientists. And look at me, I made it to become a teacher. She got a little emotional too and acknowledged that she has a lot to look forward to in life. We settled into our seats saving them for each other when we got up to use the restroom or go to the club car.
Lesson Six: It's okay to show vulnerability and to bond temporarily. (It's also good to have someone save your seat.)
The breathtaking views of the ocean, the variety of vegetation, three estuaries where the fresh and salt water meet and watching people frolicking on the beaches with the bright colored umbrellas, towels, and toys really made it feel like a summer vacation. It made me feel like I was getting to see the masses of people living the way life should be lived.
Lesson Seven: "Do something!" like spend a day on the beach, even if it means take a bus to do it.. I could tell who were people of habit taking their constitutional jog or stroll on the designated pathways trimmed with sand and the occasional foot bridges. Life took on this image of goodness and safety in more places than not. Being on the train was like having a vantage point of the probability that there is more good in the world than evil; so ...
Lesson Eight: is to not be so afraid of getting out.
There was a conductor in the club car selling all sorts of cool prepackaged food. (I bought some gourmet cheese and crackers from him.) His personality exuded goodness, and innocent fun for making the train ride a holiday. As we got on our way, he sang a little train song. When we were approaching Del Mar, he sang a song about that race track. When we paused at the Anaheim station with a view of the stadium, he sang the "Take Me out to the Ball Game" song. His voice was so sweet; it made most of us giggle like kids. The engineer would toss in historical tidbits every now and then. All in all, the staff made it feel like we were on a long monorail ride at Disneyland, but that the Coast to LA was our personal amusement park.
Lesson Nine: I do not have to go to an amusement park to be amused.
Time flew by, and this part of the ride was over. We reached Union Station. My seat mate helped me down with my bag, and we wished each other well. There was a lot more hustle and bustle with everyone debarking and going in a multitude of directions. Fortunately, I had 45 minutes to find the ticket counter for the Metro to Lancaster. It's obvious to me and some train staff that I was a novice about this process. Some acted as if I was too naive, but others were quite accommodating and refreshed that I was new to using their service. I actually was so early that I did not realize I was standing next to the train I was supposed to get on. I asked the luggage porter about the train, who had to point to the lit up sign to Lancaster on the side of the car. The steward in charge of my section of the car arrived a few minutes before we pushed off. He was a polished, yet casual fellow, with an air of confidence like a flight attendant. I got the impression he was well versed at his job, and he made me and others feel welcome and safe. So I got to look at his fine face and fanny for the trip home.
Lesson number Ten: Try to get on a car that has a confident cutie for an attendant.
On the way home I sat mostly with working ladies who use the metro daily or at least weekly. We talked about the various plant life we saw a long the way, where we live and the advantages of using the rails. As one of the ladies gets off she tells me to be on the look out for Tippy Hedron's Wild Cat Shelter called Shambala. It made me feel like a kid to anticipate seeing this. Again it was like a Disney experience, but not artificial, for real, it is not everyone that gets a bird's eye view of this. Only those special enough to treat themselves to a train, or plane ride, or personally investigate how to visit this sacred place.
Lesson Eleven: I need to get out and do more in my local area.
By the time I got to Lancaster the last stop for people to get off, it was crazy as everyone was dismounting the train and loading up in the cars or getting picked up. It was a bit of a rush to be with all of these people, but again, I was part of something a unique segment of society does daily. I was not alone, even though I was on my own. As I approached my car, I heard unusual music coming from the main Boulevard. I realized that I had arrived in my hometown in time for a street festival and outdoor concert.
Lesson Twelve: It's okay to be spontaneous. I stayed for the concert which is another story in itself.
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