Yearly Archives: 2011

Words, Glorious Words

My kids hate vocabulary homework.
More specifically, they detest my insistence that they occasionally—and I mean occasionally—use an actual dictionary rather than their favored online version.  “That is so dumb, Mom,” my oldest will complain.  No one uses that kind of dictionary anymore, “he insists.  “What’s the point, anyway?”
It’s at moments like these that I love to share the wisdom of experience.
First of all, my dear child, plenty of people still use a paper dictionary.  Why only yesterday I heard Steve Kleinedler, executive editor of the American Heritage Dictionary (one of several I own, by the way) being interviewed on NPR.  Enough of the 300 million people in America use a paper dictionary to justify new 7+ pound version, ten years in the making.
This is not to say I don’t use an online version myself.  I do.  I use both, depending on the day and what I’m looking for.  And I don’t mind if you use an online dictionary, too.  But I want you to be able to search through a print dictionary; I want you to use it some of the time.
Second, son, there is a point.  There are several reasons, in fact, that I’d like you to occasionally peruse the pages of American Heritage or Webster instead of click-click-clicking your way to a definition.  A few worth mentioning:
·      Memories.  Although you don’t realize it now, when the gray begins to sneak into your hairline and you’re parenting children of your own, there will be times when you suddenly recall something from long ago.  This memory will seem to come out of nowhere, but its genesis is really a scent or a tune or a phrase that instantly morphs you into a younger version of yourself.  When that happens your lips will turn up at the corners as you remember something you’d long forgotten.  Turning the pages of a dictionary is one of those things.  It’s a tactile experience.  The feel of the page and the smell of the ink will stay with you and one day, you will open the hard, heavy cover and smile as you think of these days.
·      New words.  As I sat down to write this post, I grabbed the closest dictionary and looked to see what was near where the skateboarding term “ollie” will be in the new edition.  There, I found “olla,” which I have never heard before, but is a noun that refers to an “earthenware pot or jar with a wide mouth.”  What I’ve found, over time is that once I see one of these words, one I’ve never heard before, I begin to notice it.  I see it in print or hear it on the radio.  Huh, I think.  Maybe I did hear it before, but I didn’t recognize it, so my brain just skipped right over.  I’m not suggesting you need to read the dictionary every day, but learning a new vocab word now and then never hurts.
·      Pictures, Ideas, Thoughts.  I am here to tell you that an online dictionary will not draw your attention to a new word or usage of a word with its non-existent pictures.  When looking for “ollie” I thumbed through the “P” section and saw a picture of Prometheus, which got me thinking about mythology.  One thought led to another and soon I was thinking about schools teaching mythology, then about schools pushing for more rigor at every age, and then about whether all of this supposed rigor really helps kids develop the critical thinking skills that will help them be agents of change in the future.
So, you see, son, thumbing through the dictionary is about a lot more than how to spell words.  You’re welcome.

In Praise of Tree Pose

photo by lululemonathletica

Picture this:  A woman who practices yoga, who’s drawn to both its difficulty and peacefulness, someone who carves out precious time several days a week to do sun salutations and hold tree pose.
Now this:  A woman sprinting up and down the basketball court, looking for a good pass, taking a shot, boxing out as if there were no tomorrow.
Put them together and you’ll find me there:  it’s an odd mix of interests, even to me.  The morning after we play basketball, some of my teammates come back to the gym to take an intense cardio class, which runs at the same time as a class of mine.  They tease me about my yoga mat, we laugh about my “stretching.”  And to be sure, in the other room they are running hard, and doing sit-ups and other old school exercises that remind me of high school basketball practice.  It’s a workout.  
So why don’t I join them?
For starters, I’ve never been a fan of classes at the gym.  Back in the day I tried, believe me.  Step aerobics was nearly the death of me—there isn’t a single thing about those types of classes that motivates me.  Sure, I can sign up and show up but it will be short lived.  There’s no pull there.
Yoga pulls me.  The dim room and the personal challenge and the depth of concentration whisper my name.  I’m stronger now.  My mind is focused.  I’m present.
I’ve been an athlete all my life and I know my days on the court are limited.  But the mat?  I think we’ll be well acquainted for a very long time.