Grace and Stature

We reach an age when we measure years by the stature of the children we know. Has it been six months already we gasp when we run into a friend with a new baby. Can that be that the same curly headed child that used to stand on tiptoes at the counter we ask as we look up into the face of a teenager that is now taller than we are. I ran into one of my old friends recently. We were young once. She was third grade teacher to both my daughters. Many of our family’s favorite stories from their childhood happened in her classroom; learning with her was such a gentle, joyful, communal experience. Denise also taught our son-in-law. He was five years older than my daughter and already in junior high when our daughter reached third grade. The future lovebirds were oblivious to each other in those days of pre-pubescent, elementary learning. It is magical to look back at the process of growing up with the perspective of an old person. Not only your own childhood, but also your kids’ childhoods takes on a quality of foreshadowing in retrospect as you consider the way things unfold. To our family, there is something almost time-warped about Denise’s third grade classroom now. Denise grinned affectionately and shook her head, as if in bewilderment, at the thought of those two little ones, now all grown up and creating a home together. They are perfect for each other, opposites balancing each other out by delightful design, but who knew it back then? In third grade, his gangly legs, like the sprouting limbs of all little boys tucked under a miniature desk, were jittery, stillness eluding them ever few seconds. His mind struggled to focus while he was trying not to daydream about after school adventures with his brothers. A few years later, our daughter sat in the same classroom, her eager mind soaking up history and reading, always in the moment. I can easily picture her, like so many third-grade girls, with her hand raised, eager with an answer and a joyous smile. Her younger sister followed close behind, soaking up math and science, creating soccer anthems out of hymns on the playground with a close friend who is also all grown up now. As we age, we get to teach our kiddoes to extend grace to one another in school. Because we remember our own childhood and the idiosyncrasies of the kids we shared it with, we understand how those stories unfold. My son-in-law tells me that his clearest memory of third grade was the day his dad accidentally let a rat snake loose in Denise’s classroom. They don’t pay teachers enough. Perhaps one of the best rewards of experience is knowing how some of the stories turn out. Seeing kiddoes grow in grace and stature, a reward of age. Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Houston Re-visited

No matter what others may say, Houston has become a mighty romantic place to hang out, if you like art and ethnic food.
Check in and stay for a long romantic weekend at the Hotel ZaZa, smack dab in the center of the Museum District and only a few blocks from all things medical in Houston. Newly renovated, I recommend shopping online for one of the ZaZa’s spacious suites overlooking their sparkling Mediterranean-inspired swimming pool. Check for deals on any ZaSpa packages.
Besides the obvious, like Houston’s Museum of Fine Arts directly across the street from the ZaZa, this international city also has an often-overlooked sampling of art created and collected with a spiritual perspective.
For instance, there’s the Byzantine Fresco Chapel, which was created to rescue a set of stolen and ransomed frescoes. By 1992, the city of Houston and the Menil Foundation had teamed up to become the stewards of the frescoes, which forever belong to the Church of Cyprus. The church is reclaiming them, so they will be going home soon.
Don’t miss the Rothko Chapel, an internationally known draw, with its focus on human rights. If you are traveling with traditionalists, prepare them for the minimalist flavor of the chapel, so they can experience quiet with a meditative heart.
“It has become a pilgrimage for thousands of visitors who are drawn by its importance both as an artistic masterpiece and as a gathering place for people of all religious beliefs,” according to Rothko literature.
I recommend a visit to the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral, only a few blocks from Hotel ZaZa and the Rothko Chapel. If you are there on a Sunday, visitors are welcome to join worship. On other days of the week, priests are gracious and hospitable about informing respectful visitors about the significance of icons in Greek Orthodox tradition.
If you are a bibliophile, stop by the book store while you are at the church for a thorough selection of all things related to icons and icon painting, along with great choices in Greek heritage and the history of Greek immigration to America.
As long as Greek is on the art tour, why not take in cultural cuisine, too?
Choosing one or two items off the extensive menu at Byzantio Café and Bar is impossible. So, meet friends and order a huge spread to try it all.
Every bite is delicious, from the lamb souvlaki to the hummus to the gyros, and especially the tzatziki sauce.
With neighbors and regulars laughing and greeting each other across the restaurant, Byzantio feels like a great big Greek American family reunion.
And since you are having an art holiday, don’t miss the photography on the walls. Personal and expressive, we especially enjoyed the depictions of the local belly dancers who perform at the restaurant every Thursday night.
Belly dancing; a perfect excuse to start a romantic weekend in Houston early.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Motivating your employees, not babysitting them, Part 3

Hasn’t entitlement overtaken our national conscience?
Somebody owes me something all the time now, it would seem.
My grandparents would roll over in their graves if they heard the attitude commonly purveyed in our culture now. Modest folks with not a penny to spare, my grandparents worked hard. Never would they have demanded an education or health care. I bet yours were the same way.
It simply never entered their minds to demand anything.
If they wanted something, they worked for it.
Expecting someone else to pay for stuff, even with tax dollars, would have seemed like thievery to them.
So what motivated that generation and how can we motivate those around us?
Folks are basically motivated by four things – stuff, security, significance, and, finally the biggie, a vision combined with a solid relationship with the one in authority. If you missed the first part of this three-part series, you can find it on this paper’s website.
Business owners simply cannot afford to “babysit” their employees; that is, they cannot treat employees like dependant children.
Everyone I know who is employed right now is getting paid one salary to do the job of two people. We are living in an economy when folks are being forced to grow up and behave like hard-working adults.
Simply put, a business owner does his employees a favor when he manages his business well, finding the right balance between providing customer services and keeping expenses down.
In the work place, training your employees to take ownership of your business is a crucial part of success.
Because of the shifting employment picture, it is crucial to offer your employees opportunities to acquire skills while they are gainfully employed by you. That does not have to involve expensive classes. It can be as simple as cross-training employees so they can cover for each other.
One bonus to cross training is that team unity happens when people appreciate each other’s skills.
Did our grandparents miss the privileges we take for granted, like education and health care? Did not having stuff make our grandparents bitter?
No, it made them resourceful and grateful. Working hard gave them confidence. It made them generous.
Some of us are old enough to remember those days.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

A Texan In Paris

“Remember: English is the language of domination,” shouted our tour guide.
Then, demonstrating a football stiff arm, he explained our strategy for getting safely past aggressive city taxicabs.
“Dominate!”
In a group that represented the US, Canada, England, and Australia, we were fitted for bikes. The shiny red bikes had names like Cupcake and the blue ones had manly names like Road Runner. And Road Kill.
“That guys is from Texas and I bet 10 Euros, he is Pine Cove trained,” I whispered to my daughters as our Fat Tire Tour in Paris began.
What are the odds? My daughters didn’t believe me.
“I’m tellin’ ya, I bet he’s from Fredericksburg,” I insisted.
Paris is a cosmopolitan city, a place where people from everywhere come to bask in the richness of some of the best art collections in the world.
It is also the capital of a country that designates a whole government agency to preserving the French language from English intrusions.
Not an easy task in an age of “Le Ipad.”
My oldest daughter pedaled up front and began small talk.
Turns out I was wrong about one thing.
The guy was from San Antonio.
His camp name was Opa; Andrew is his real name.
You might be wondering how I recognized the Pine Cove influence, but only if you have never met a Pine Cove Christian Camps counselor.
Maybe it was the way he knew how to make it fun for everyone else.
Maybe it was the attentive way he made his customers feel like friends.
Pine Cove has this way of turning men into servant leaders.
I hate to admit this, but Texas A&M didn’t hurt him any either. When we met, Andrew was finishing up a stint with Fat Tire Tours, then beginning a career in California doing something fancy. I can’t remember what exactly.
One thing I know, with a servant’s heart and a ton of confidence, Andrew is sure to be successful.
Maybe domination isn’t the first word that comes to mind when you think about successful servant leaders or international detent.
But when it comes to competing in a global market, having an attitude and a skill set that stands out - because it is based in faith, not fear - is exactly what we want for our kiddoes. Andrew was easy to pick out of the crowd.
So I say, “Dominate.”
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Heroic Mothers

You won’t read about her in history books.
In fact, you almost wouldn’t read about her at all, except for one small thing; her son mentioned her. I was interviewing her son and daughter-in-law about their experiences growing up in segregated East Texas for a series I am doing on African American high schools in our region.
It turns out his mom sowed the seeds of justice in his heart in the 1950s when he was just a young kid.
What she did was simple.
She loaded up a pickup truck with every brave soul she could find who would participate in her well-intentioned misadventure.
She was the mother of eleven children; I admire her courage for that alone.
The pickup was loaded with a cargo of humans who were mostly her offspring and a few close friends who didn’t have the heart to say no to this determined woman. The stakes were high for her, based on who was in the back of that truck.
Their small band of parents and children, not much of an army, stormed the Brownsboro school district’s administration building in broad day light, walked right into the Superintendent’s office, and demanded enrollment with the white students of Brownsboro Independent School District.
David and Goliath. No odds maker in his right mind would take that bet.
In fact, nothing much changed.
Some of her neighbors thought she was crazy for stirring up trouble and they didn’t mind telling her so, but that was about it.
Nothing changed, except for the seeds planted in the hearts of her kids.
She didn’t know she was heroic.
Gertrude Cofer Evans of Moore Station, Texas.
Remember that name.
Not because she would want the attention. Not because you’ll ever see it in a history book.
But because she stood up for what was right.
And she taught her kids do so.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Taxpayer should hold the right people accountable for education

With all the talk about education funding in the Texas legislature, here’s my question: Why should school districts be saddled with accounting for decisions that are simply not theirs to make.
For a close to home example, take Bullard. Last spring, I watched in fascination as Bullard ISD received a lower than expected rating due to drop out rates.
Really? And just who makes the decision to drop out?
In a flurry of accounting and research, the Bullard ISD was able to prove that of the unaccounted for students, some had transferred and some were homeschooling. On appeal, the official rating was raised. Unofficially, everyone in Bullard knew what was obvious; I have interviewed countless people who volunteer that they moved to Bullard for the excellent public schools.
Most the East Texas home educators I know - and I know plenty because I have homeschooled along the way – would view it as an intrusion of their God-given rights to have the public school district come sniffing around.
Imagine how intrusive it would seem, if you had already enrolled your child in another town far away? Weird.
Burdening the school district with the need to track down private citizens and get information from them about personal decisions is just plain silly. It is also an expensive and time-consuming task that distracts from the real responsibility of educating those who show up for class.
Education is the function of the school system. Truancy, juvenile delinquency, and child protection are functions of the justice system.
The truth is, education is a function of the family, but that’s a whole ‘nother column.
As citizens, we owe it to ourselves to get that straight.
One of the symptoms of the entitlement culture we’ve become in America, is the confusion about personal responsibility.
When we let our legislators pass laws that hold the wrong people responsible for actions, like holding districts responsible for the decisions of parents and their children, we are behaving in a very co-dependant way as a culture. As if someone could control the behavior of another individual or be held responsible for decisions they did not make.
Anyway, do we really want our ISDs used in a semi-law-enforcement kind of way, investigating private citizen’s lives?
No wonder students get the idea that they have a right to an education. They think they are entitled because taxpayers are not voting with clarity on this issue.
Make no mistake, though, education is a privilege, not an entitlement.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Power of the Spoken Word

As a parent, if you learn anything in life, you learn that teenagers are full of truth.
‘Course it can come at the most unexpected times and in the most unusual ways.
“People can use their words for good, of course, but they can also use them for destruction,” said my current favorite teenager on the way to middle school one morning.
Really? Did he really just open up that conversation, I thought, as I grappled with the idea that we were fixing to have a serious discussion before I finished my first cup of caffeine.
His point was simple.
He had been observing at school that while kids were frequently just awful with the stuff they said to each other – no news there – that, well, a kind word could give vision to a kid who didn’t have many positive thoughts directed his way.
It reminded me that God’s word is a two-edged sword, but in a different kind of way.
Both “sword edges” of God’s word are for good because He is Himself good.
Whether His word convicts our hearts or confirms our wholesome convictions, His message serves us in good ways. Always, His thoughts and His ideas are for the benefit of those who love Him.
At the same time, His message is also always for the benefit of those who reject Him. Even as people run from God and reject Him, He still seeks them out in love.
In other words, because God is wholly good, His message is good at every level and in every way for anyone, even those who hate Him. He is just that good.
On the other hand, people are not 100% good. Basically, our words are a two- edged sword that reflects the duality of our nature – the desire to be selfish and the desire to be unselfish.
Is there any place where that is more obvious than middle school?
“I just told him he is intelligent, Mom,” said my son, “I don’t think many people tell him that.”
Using truth to create hope.
What a truth-full teenager!
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Bond woes and other questions

With the state budget shortfall promising to ravage ISD budgets as soon as next fall, now is a great time to take a hard look at how bond proposals can fail, especially during a recession.

A case in point is the TISD bond proposal that failed most recently.

As early as 1976, the TISD lost what proved to be a string of bond proposals that the taxpayers refused to endorse. Until the passage of the elementary school packages in recent years, it could be argued that Smith County had some pretty tight-fisted citizens.

So, why didn’t Smith County taxpayers continue supporting desperately needed middle schools?

Is it just the recession, as some have suggested?

I don’t think so.

There are at least two race-related questions that were never addressed in the Vote Yes campaign.

First, by building the initial middle school on the south side are we in denial about the lingering affects of racism that haunt the north side of town?

It could be argued that building where there is already an over-population of students simply makes sense. Granted, Tyler’s long-range plans are a step in the right direction for seeing economic growth on the north side of town.

However, I think the public wants to be assured that civic leaders, including TISD officials, are committed to an undivided city. Officials owe it to the taxpayers to explain how building the first middle school in south Tyler will benefit the city in the long run, not just immediately.

Second, is bussing really a cost effective way to manage our student demographics in a culture that is – thankfully - more racially integrated than it once was?

Did you know that bussing is an expense left over from the days when African American parents consolidated their church-based schools in order to offer opportunities similar to those afforded in white schools? Bussing was not actually a solution to the problem of segregation; it was one of the symptoms. Just ask any African American old enough to remember being bussed past white schools in the 40s and 50s. School districts of the 50s would provide a bus to black high schools in order to avoid letting black and white children attend together.

The budget issues facing the TISD are complex. With the state budget shortfall, now is a great time to rethink our traditional ways of paying for education.

I remember 1976 because I was a junior at Robert E. Lee High School and part of a group that campaigned in favor of the bond issue.

If Tyler desperately needed new school buildings 30 years ago, there can be no doubt that we need them more than ever now.

I hope the right issues get addressed next time around.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Public Education and Hypocrisy

The public schools are educating kids for about the same price tag as the private schools in East Texas, based on the Texas Comptroller’s Financial Allocation Study for Texas or FAST report.

I think that’s pretty big news, especially when you consider the public schools can’t just bounce out the kids who misbehave and cause chaos in the classroom.

The classroom is not the place for social services, along with naughty to violent behavior.

And yet, most public school teachers spend a good chunk of their teaching time dealing with issues that are related to bad behavior and disrespectfulness.

There also is a laundry list of social services available, mandated by legislative and judicial bodies and administered through the public school system, mostly by overworked teachers.

Most of it has nothing to do with education. Some of the bureaucracy is simply related to keeping control in the classroom.

In the meantime, teachers are burdened with all kinds of accountability disguised as testing. Unfortunately, we are holding the wrong people accountable.

Modern language has twisted the meaning of the word hypocrisy.

Jesus made his most scathing remarks to people He labeled as hypocrites, so it is kinda crucial to know who is a hypocrite.

Basically, if I tell my kids to do as I say, not as I do – which, by the way, is something I tell them regularly - I am not being a hypocrite in the biblical sense of the word.

On the other hand, if I act super-spiritual, burdening people with foolishness, especially if I take on a leadership role, then, bingo, I am a hypocrite of biblical proportions.

So, what has the biblical definition of hypocrisy got to do with public education and the bureaucracy of taxpayer funded schools?

Basically, as a culture, we are guilty of a major kind of hypocrisy.

As taxpayers, we are claiming to fund education when what we are actually funding is juvenile detention for a large percentage of “students.”

Unfortunately, because we are putting a gentle “education face” on a serious cultural “juvenile delinquency problem”, the kids who go to school to learn are getting short-changed.

Pretending to educate when we are really committed to using public schools to keep delinquents off the streets is a serious kind of hypocrisy.

It should go without saying that the classroom is for educating those who want an education. For everyone else, we need juvenile detention.

And we need leaders who will tell the truth about it.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Famous Quotes by Non-Famous People

“All perspectives are valid, but not all perspectives are (pause) mature,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, addressing her audience of mommies and daddies for the first time as they sat in the miniature chairs their kiddoes would be squirming in soon.

Loretta Van Cleave, kindergarten teacher of both my girls, was definitely in the position to witness the maturity of small people and people who should have known better.

I’m sure she would say that her life was fulfilling, but it wasn’t long enough to suit those of us who loved her. Still, she left behind an inheritance of succinct, practical wisdom, demonstrated with a heart attitude that made everybody want to play nicely.

I’ve been collecting quotes for years. Me, the girl who can’t remember her own phone number and who deletes all names necessary for introductions at the exact moment of any handshake.

For some reason, I store non-famous peoples’ quotes away instantaneously and recall them without any effort at all. Unlike names and other crucial information, like where I put my car keys.

I heard a couple of doozies lately.

“God does not honor complaining. He honors thankfulness,” said Johnnie Herndon as she pinned the hem of my trousers to prepare them for alteration. Johnnie and I are friends because she works at Alterations by Sylvia’s. I’m in there a lot because slacks are always too long for short, fluffy girls; not that I’m complaining. Actually, I was complaining to Johnnie about how people always complain. She was sympathetic and oh-so-gentle.

“Everything a man does to get a wife, he needs to do to keep her,” said Byron Henderson in front of my son and my husband as we were saying goodnight to our guests. Byron, an air conditioning specialist and also an associate pastor of Galilee Baptist Church, had just finished a discussion with a group of my son’s friends about being a Godly man. I wasn’t invited to the discussion, but was simply reappearing to shake his hand and say thank you.

I’m pretty sure Byron’s quote is one I will never forget.

I might even have occasion to use it.

My son’s future wife will thank me someday, I bet.

But I guess that could be a matter of perspective.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Gun Safety; a Mom’s most-feared the oxymoron

A kid brought a BB gun on a Bullard school bus causing a serious stir on the rumor mill among worried parents, but fortunately no other disturbances.

Thanks to the alert and quick handling by school officials, and some well thought out policies and training, we are not reporting a tragedy in this week’s paper.

When I heard the rumors, my first thought was: There but for the grace of God go I.

My husband was in charge of gun safety at our house because, well, bluntly my dad did such a good job on gun safety over 40 years ago that I am paranoid of guns to this day.

Gun safety is an oxymoron, if you ask me.

Thank heavens God gave my children two parents because my husband has a more judicious, less hysterical approach.

I never worried about our daughters, too much, being hormonally predisposed to a sensible, practical approach to weapons.

In fact, one of our daughters recently finished her Concealed Handgun License, or CHL. I love to brag about her perfect score on the target shooting section of the training.

Her daddy rewarded her by buying her a sleek, small black handgun that looks like a toy. I have no idea how it feels cus I won’t get near it.

Knowing she is licensed to carry actually makes me sleep sounder at night.

My son is getting there, too, but that hasn’t always been the case.

As a 3-year-old, he would slip out of the house and stop traffic with his plastic cowboy pistols. The main danger was to his mother who suffered serious panic attacks on multiple occasions with that kid’s adventures.

Fortunately, the neighbors quickly grew to anticipate the unexpected and graciously proceeded with extreme caution while he outgrew the sheriff stage.

We took the obvious precautions with our guns.

-We locked them in a gun safe with a combination, not a key, lock.

-I insisted on trigger locks on each and every gun inside the safe.

-We kept the ammo in a separate, secure place on the other side of the house.

Our kids know “All guns are always loaded, even the ones you think are unloaded.” They also know to get the heck out of Dodge if they see anyone holding a gun in an unsafe way or place. Run, don’t walk.

We live in Texas. People keep as many guns as they keep Bibles in their homes. And that’s a lot.

But for heaven’s sakes, there are things you can do to keep guns out of the hands of children.

Do so, or suffer serious personal consequences, folks.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Newspaper Journalism and Other Crazy Adventures

This, written specifically for the Bullard Banner, I'm posting in honor of Mrs. Vining's Journalism class at BHS, a collection of young people with extensive vocabularies and highly developed senses of humor.

The world revolved around Bullard, Texas this week.

For those of us who love this sleepy little community any little ripple in the pond matters.

Take the fact that a tiny, but darling little Kindergartner started her first week of school with her blond hair brushed to a sheen and her blue eyes sparkling with anticipation. The class of 2022 arrived for class this week with wiggles and trembles and giggles.

What is Libby looking forward to most about the upcoming 12-year education career initiated this week?

“You get to hear stories,” she answered without hesitation.

Reminds me of a shiny-eyed twenty-something art teacher Sarah Dupree who happens to be Libby’s aunt. She started her first day of school this week, too, at Brook Hill.

Welcome to the world of the Banner where everybody has a story to tell or an important part to perform, like for instance the Baby Belles and the Boys and Girls Club members.

Of course, you may notice that I am NOT known for my photography skills. Consider this your invitation to document the daily blessings of our community, especially with your camera. My heartfelt thanks to all those who emailed pictures this week. What would I do without you!

I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Like Libby, my favorite part of the adventure is hearing the stories.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Nice Girls and Sexual Harassment

What in the world is wrong with this character?!

I was entranced at a party recently as a twenty-something friend put off the advances of a too attentive young man.

I wanted her to bust his chops and put an end to our misery, but she was way too nice.

He was so focused that he didn’t notice that her friends, and at least one middle-aged mom-type, were paying close attention to his every move.

I have another twenty-something friend who quit her job rather than confront a guy at work who came on too strong.

So, here’s what I have to say to nice girls, “Quit being so nice!”

How? Here are some suggestions:

-Carry a knife in your purse. Nothing says “get out of my bubble” like cleaning your fingernails with a big, macho pocketknife. Just remember to leave it at home when you go to the airport.

-Ask a simple question, “Did you play football?” No matter how he answers the question, twirl around in “stiff arm” position and explain that he is taking a chance if he gets any closer than that.

-Sneak attacks? Don’t you just hate it when guys think they can approach you from the back and get in uncomfortably close? There’s a simple solution to that problem. Twist around quickly, put a knee in his groin and then say, “Oops! Did I hurt you?”

-Door strategy. If the guy stands in the doorframe of your car to prevent you from leaving, hit the alarm button on your key fob. Then say, “Back up please, I am leaving. NOW. That’s the signal.”

-Psychological warfare. Any guy that says, “You’re not nice,” is being manipulative. Your answer to that is “No, I am certainly NOT nice. Thank you for noticing.”

-Clarify the rules. Say exactly what you want him to know. For example, “Did I say you could enter my personal bubble?”

Most of the time you can clarify the rules with a simple statement as long as you smile. If you don’t laugh people will feel threatened, especially if you are cleaning your fingernails or picking your teeth with your bad-ass knife.

One last thought, if your mother would be offended about the way he’s acting, you should be, too. And it is best to let him know it. With a nice smile, of course.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Dyslexia is a Blessing

Dyslexia is a blessing.

It does not seem that way in 1st and 2nd grade when your child comes home with big red X’s on his paper because he wrote a 2 where his brain was thinking of a 6.

It does not seem that way in 3rd grade when he’s the only one in the classroom who can’t read his assignments so you are spending your weekends catching him up by reading each and every chapter to him out of textbooks.

There was a day when ISD administrations were slow to take up the issue of dyslexia because it represented a new expense, another burden. Fifteen or twenty years ago, a handful of parents fought hard to make special training for dyslexic students happen in our area.

What a blessing for those of us who have come afterward.

Fortunately those parents discovered a fabulous program, developed by Scottish Rite which is now the benchmark for all that followed.

“Dyslexia is a learning disorder that affects approximately 10 percent of children,” according to the Texas Scottish Rite Hospital for Children website, http://www.tsrhc.org/dyslexia-educator-center.htm. “Those diagnosed with dyslexia have trouble connecting sounds to letter symbols. This affects the way children with dyslexia learn to read and spell.”

“Well, no dah!” I would have shouted at my computer screen a few years ago, fearing my son would never read, never keyboard, never have a chance at college.

“Children with dyslexia can learn to read and be successful despite their learning differences. Fortunately, major strides have been made in understanding the language-based disorder, many of them at Texas Scottish Rite Hospital for Children,” says the article.

Dyslexia does not seem like a blessing at first. It seemed overwhelming.

Therein lies the problem: We tend to protect our children from any form of discomfort. Most parents, including me, don’t usually see challenges as a blessing.

Especially if those challenges involve making the parent (me) uncomfortable!

Later, when we begin to see how much fortitude our dyslexic child has gained in the process of learning to compensate, suddenly our viewpoint may start to change.

When we see success.

When we see his willingness to work harder than everybody else. Then the realization dawns that dyslexia has turned out to be a blessing.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Hi-Tech Redneck

There was a shiny new piece of hi-tech equipment with a big red velveteen bow parked in my driveway Christmas morning.

It seems my husband believes I should have a new vehicle every 200,000 miles or every 10 years, whether I am ready or not.

My problem is I am just not that good of a driver. How am I supposed to drive and find all the new buttons?

Did you know they don’t even put tape players in cars anymore?

Now if you haven’t shopped for cars in ten years, you’re in for some astonishing space-agey, new fangled gadgets. For instance, I don’t have to touch my hatchback any more to get it to close. There’s a button for that.

Oh and they don’t call ‘em hatchbacks anymore either.

Jeremy Lade looked at me with understanding patience in his eyes and explained that I would probably love sync technology once I got used to it. Bless his heart.

So just what is sync technology?

Well, as best as I can figure so far, I talk to my steering wheel and it dials my iphone for me somehow. Okay, so maybe I’ll admit that the road has been a more dangerous place since I got my iphone. And maybe I’ll admit I find myself checking emails as I drive. Did you know there’s an ap for Facebook?

This technological hot rod came with four- count ‘em, four- books. One whole book is devoted solely to making phone calls.

I have a simple solution to so much information. I just drive by the dealership for another lesson.

The guys at Lade have amazing customer service, especially for technologically challenged middle-aged mom-types.

But I’m seriously concerned about Ford’s future truck sales and here’s why:

My sporty little Edge doesn’t understand Jeremy too well.

Every time Jeremy spoke a command, the car’s screen said, listening…listening…listening….

I suspect my techy new Silver Bullet - yep, that’s what my teenage son and I call our new voice activated joy ride - is listening for the King’s English.

“I guess I can’t tell my car I’m fixin’ to call someone, huh Jeremy,” I said.

He laughed and gave me the title for this column.

I’m thinking those engineers at Ford better come up with a computer that listens for a Texas twang or they are gonna have some disappointed cowboys singing songs about losing their true loves because their pick up truck couldn’t dial her number.

And maybe trucks should answer with a younger, sexier voice.

My son suggested Carrie Underwood.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Ribbon Solutions

I have a simple solution to life’s stress.

Buy more ribbon.

I don’t know when my ribbon fetish began. Probably during childhood adventures with my grandmother, scouring second-hand stores and discount fabric stores for other people’s cast offs of useful items like zippers, buttons, and thread. The pay-off for restless granddaughters was a yard of any ribbon we chose, a real luxury in those days and an inspired bribe on Meme’s part, since choosing only one yard from so many colorful, temptations was certainly excruciatingly time consuming for young intellects.

I was reminded of our human tendency to prepare for life in odd ways recently when I uncovered the stash of ribbon I had collected in the months preceding my daughter’s wedding almost two years ago.

Like a squirrel hoards nuts, I had gathered spools of silky satin and shiny iridescent ribbon and hidden them away in an unmarked box just in case.

How having ribbon would prepare anyone for the transition of having your children grow up and begin families of their own is a quagmire of human illogic and dysfunction that only a professional psychologist could unravel.

All I know is, “You never know when the perfect ribbon will come in handy.”

Which reminds me of another motto, “Whoever has the most fabric when they die, wins.”

I have known women who built shelf-lined closets specifically to organize their addiction to fabric, justifying it with the words, “But I love to quilt.” And perhaps because they wanted to avoid trips to marriage counseling, their husbands seemed well-adjusted to this concept.

Or maybe those same husbands have a closet devoted to golf.

Like so many mid-lifers, I’m trading stuff for space these days; getting rid of the stuff and gaining room in my closets.

So, what to do with all this ribbon?

Well, the obvious thing, of course. Pass it along, with the fetish, to my oldest daughter, the artist.

And what she doesn’t want can be used to wrap up Christmas at our house this year.

I just hope my family and friends don’t become suspicious when the ribbon on their Christmas packages looks more wedding-ish than holiday-ish.

And I hope your holidays are wrapped and decorated with sweet family memories.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

A Community Full of Reason to Give Thanks

There’s a chill in the air and we are alive to enjoy it.

Two reason to give thanks.

Each year at this time I make out a short list of reasons I am thankful and I send them all a small gift, before I start cooking for Thanksgiving or shopping for Christmas.

Why? Because I like to remember what really matters to me, right before the holiday rush competes to short circuit my soul.

So, who is on my Thanksgiving list this year?

-Bethesda Health Clinic. Serving the working, uninsured of Smith County, this group brings together volunteers from all walks of life, including hundreds of doctors, dentists, and nurses. Bethesda also unites churches of all denominations to provide affordable, top-notch health care and they do it all without one penny from our government. Pretty impressive. 409 W. Ferguson, Tyler TX, 903.596.8353.

-Bullard Education Foundation. With our government dictating how we have to spend our own tax dollars, local foundations put local control back in the hands of community leaders whose heart beat is the education of our own kiddoes. PO Box 928, Bullard, TX 75757, 903.894.6639.

-Discovery Science Place. East Texas children can grow up running through the bat cave and vibrating on the earthquake without ever realizing that it was a form of education. 308 N. Broadway, Tyler TX 75702, 903.533.8011.

-East Texas Rescue Mission of Tyler. Being a journalist takes me into new territory every day, but this year the thing that touched my heart most was to learn how many people we have sleeping on the streets in East Texas. I like this group’s approach because they make a long term commitment to those willing to take personal responsibility and apply spiritual solutions. 1023 N Glenwood Blvd, Tyler, TX 75702-5058, 903.592.9400.

-Pine Cove Christian Camps. I love the way Pine Cove ministers to families and kiddoes, soldiers’ families, young and old people, near and far, the privileged and the underprivileged. But my favorite thing is the way they train young men to be servant leaders. PO Box 9055, Tyler TX 75711, 903.561.0231.

Is East Texas unique in the way people are so committed to helping others? Or maybe its just part of a bigger American way of thinking that is built into our heritage and identity. Who knows?

All I know is I am thankful.

Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com.

Self-Segregation

It’s a strange, but folks in East Texas tend to be self-segregating.
If anybody can explain this phenomenon, I sure wish you’d write in and educate me. I don’t get it.
I was reminded of how hard it is to break old patterns last year when I pulled up to drop off my son on the first day of middle school.
“It’s a third, a third, a third,” was the answer when we asked about the demographics of the school. In other words, the school is pretty nearly equally populated with white kids, black kids, and Latino kids.
Heck, I don’t even know the politically correct way to describe the groups. Caucasian? African American? Hispanic? Whatever.
Personally, just cus a person’s skin is pigment-challenged does not mean they relate to some region in Eastern Europe. I generally describe my ethniticity as Texan and leave it at that. I even write Texan in the box marked “other.”
Anyway, this mix of demographics seemed like one of the advantages to us in choosing a school for our son. Since he is a people person, we saw the advantage to him of learning to be comfortable with folks from all backgrounds with varying perspectives.
But on the first day of school, there it was plain as day. Yep, we’re in East Texas all right.
“See how the kids divide themselves into groups. The white kids are over there. The black kids are over there. And the Latino kids are in the middle,” I pointed out the obvious to my son as we pulled up in front of the school.
I really hated to call attention to the fact. I felt a piece of his childhood would be over forever when he recognized that there were self-imposed differences. It would complicate friendships that in elementary school had been unpolluted by race issues.
On the other hand, I couldn’t see any advantage in pretending that the lines don’t still exist. Within days, he would get the picture clearly from kids who would try to keep him on his side of the divide.
“Your job this year is to cross-pollinate as many friendships as you can. Seek out friends from each group, please, and honor your friends to each other.”
And than I added the phrase I send him off with every school day.
“Oh yeah, don’t forget, you’re the best young man in the whole world.”
So, okay, maybe I’m a little prejudiced on that particular point, but, hey, I’m a mom.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

Pledge to the Moms of Girls

Here’s my pledge to girls’ moms: “I promise to teach my son that breaking your daughter’s heart is a big no-no.”
Having raised two girls I have some pretty strong feelings on the subject.
So does my husband and all his friends with daughters. Their ideas usually involve starting to polish their guns on the day that first baby daughter was born.
“Well, how do you expect them to find a husband if they don’t date?” asked countless parents surprised when they learned that we didn’t see the point of dating.
“How does dating a thousand Mr. Wrongs get them any closer to Mr. Right?” I always asked, but apparently that is a trick question because no one ever bothered answering.
Now the shoe is on the other foot, and I am trying hard to teach my son to be faithful to a wife he doesn’t know yet.
Apparently, I’m not the only mom that has noticed that girls can be aggressive, even in middle school.
If you have a daughter that age, she may be interested in what moms like me are telling our sons:
-Yes, son, many of the girls are annoying because they are so boy-crazy. Please be kind to them as you ignore them.
-When a girl hangs around and acts silly, please say something clear, but gentle like, “I am hanging out with the guys. Please find some girls to talk to.”
-Girls act boy-crazy because they are needy. They are needy because they are not getting enough attention at home.
-Yes, I know that girls dress in new and creative ways, calling attention to the fact that they are female. Hmm…let’s hope their parents aren’t aware of that particular outfit because that would mean that they don’t care about her enough to say no.
-No matter what happens, you are responsible not only for your actions but also for your thoughts. Girls make the decisions they make. You are the boss of your decisions and thoughts.
-If you choose to honor a girl with your attention, you don’t get to reject her later. So choose your friends carefully.
-It’s silly to date in middle school. In fact, it’s silly to date unless you are prepared to explore the commitment of marriage. Period.
That’s just the beginning. The foundational ideas. The ones I can put into print without embarrassing my son.
And this is only middle school. I hate to think how complicated high school will be.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http://checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.

Well-aged and Well-adjusted

Nothing made my Granddaddy happier than an excuse to fish.
He was a gentle man with a small-ish frame and a ready grin. Cataracts had taken their toll on his vision, but not on the sweet way he always interacted with us.
I can still see him standing on the end of a pier with cane pole in hand. There was something so inherently peaceful in his demeanor.
We never heard him say a cross word, although there were a few occasions when he firmly encouraged my grandmother that it was time for their visit to come to an end; she would have stayed indefinitely.
“I don’t believe in retirement,” said the gentleman at the Bullard Kiwanis meeting when I asked for help with this column. He was the picture of why I agree with him, busy mentoring young people, happily contributing to a better community.
What we believe about retirement and aging will shape our future. As I age, I can’t help but notice some of the mythology out there:
-“Retirement means you lose your identity.” What retirement really means is that now you can serve in the way you want to without concern for making the next buck.
- “I worked; now I can play.” I call this RTS, Retirement Teenager Syndrome. The happiest teenagers and old folks I know are the ones who are NOT focused on self-indulgence, but are busy sharing their lives with others.
-“Caretaking is an imposition.” You might be surprised to learn that your kids don’t mind the hours with you at the doctor’s office or the midnight trips to the emergency room. In fact, they might actually savor the quite and tenderness of those moments spent waiting with you.
-“Nobody is interested in the elderly.” The truth is that in many cultures, the elderly are still esteemed for their wisdom. In our own culture, I meet young people all the time who are craving the interest of someone wiser. The trick is to be wise enough to recognize the need and secure enough to offer whatever you can.
My kids and I met a retired gentleman recently at the picture framing counter who is a perfect example of offering whatever you can. He simply congratulated my daughter about her diploma. A few words later and we were pressing him with questions about his experience as a Korean veteran. He is now a friend and a valuable source of insight. All because he took a minute to encourage a young person.
“Drawing closer to the Lord and wanting others to do so too,” is crucial explained one friend, adding with a grin, “at our age, you know you’re gonna face Him sooner rather than later.”
So, what’s the best way to avoid getting caught in the trap of mythology about aging?
Spend time with young people.
If your grandkids live far away, why not adopt some more close to home? Next door. At church. By tutoring kids who need help with school work.
Why not do what my granddaddy did? Grab a cane pole and take a young person fishing.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives and writes with a Texas twang. Comments are invited at http:/checklistcharlie.blogspot.com or cathykrafve@gmail.com.