Telling Your Story
It cannot be possible that schools will open their doors in a few weeks. But they will and the rhythm of education and school will be here before we know it.
There are a lot of skilled teachers who pour their hearts into their work every year. What a job they do! Year after year the learning builds from the previous year. Twelve years later, a student wears a strange, flat-topped cap and a gown that looks like a bathrobe, walks down an aisle with the other kids who started school at the same time, and is handed a piece of paper that launches the bearer of said paper into a whole new world. Everything the student has learned up to that point is supposed to point them towards a future. It's the natural order of things.
The pool of knowledge can be given to kids by any generation of teachers. Math, science, reading, writing, history. The delivery might change, but the basics are still the basics. The lessons don't disappear with every change of guard in a classroom.
However, when you are gone, all the knowledge and skills you possess will disappear with you. So, what are you teaching your children and grandchildren?
Are you teaching them to grow a garden or how to do carpentry? Are you teaching them to cook the secret family recipes? Are you teaching them how to raise animals, fix things and identify the stars in the galaxy? Are you teaching the family story for the next generation to tell?
Did you know that "granny skills" like sewing, knitting, crocheting, needlepoint, food preservation and bread making are making a comeback? People want to know how to do the things their grandparents did out of necessity. They are learning how satisfying it is to start and finish a project that is useful, attractive and made with the skill of your own hands.
My own daughter is catching the granny skills bug. I tried to teach her how to sew and do embroidery when she was young. She was 100% uninterested. I was 100% bullheaded enough to push the issue. The result was more than enough frustration for both of us, and a pair of flannel pajama pants that never made it any further than four cut out pieces of fabric. At some point, the pieces disappeared. I either gave them away, threw them away, or used them for something else. Now, she owns a sewing machine far nicer than mine and is making cute needlepoint gifts for friends.
When you are gone, every skill you have leaves with you. But you can live on through your descendants by teaching them how to do things. Someday, when their children ask how they know how to do things, they will be able to teach them just like you once taught their generation how to do things.
Bev Berens is a freelance writer and empty nester from Vestaburg, Mich. She can be contacted at uphillfarm494@yahoo.com.