Therefore Having Gone

Therefore Having Gone

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Spring Break Article for the Newspaper

I wrote the following article while on spring break in Le Mars, Iowa last week and it was published in The Republic just yesterday.  The last point about good friends and late night conversations is a shout out to some Iowans close to our hearts!

Here it is:

                The moment high school students drag themselves back to their desks in January for the second semester, their countdown to spring break commences.  January and February are long months.

                But sometimes when break finally arrives, the fantasy of a true break runs into the harsh reality of homework.

                Some teachers feel the need to assign projects and homework over the week of break in order to cover all the material necessary before the fast-approaching end of the school year – or perhaps, one suspects, just as often to prove they are deadly serious about academics and the rigors of their particular subject area.  And we have all known those (few) teachers who simply have a pronounced sadistic streak. They seem to revel in the thought of their pet project hovering over the heads of their students for the week.  They have spent years thickening their own skins to easily withstand the curses poured down on them by students and parents alike on that final weekend of break when the looming due dates are tearfully – and frantically - addressed. 

                I am a teacher who believes spring break should be bona fide time off from all school work.  So even though my sophomores are in the midst of a research paper, I refuse to hang even a minor deadline over their break.  On the day we return to class, there will be no note cards, no rough drafts nor even a Works Cited page due. 

                That is not to say that I hope students will turn their brains off and vegetate in front of a video game for a week.  Or even sleep twenty hours a day.  (Although judging from their stupor in class recently, some of my students would be wise to catch up on their sleep.)

                Rather, my wish for them would be a spring break just as educational as any week of the school year.  Or more so.  It was Mark Twain who once declared, “I never let my schooling interfere with my education.”  That was his way of emphasizing the many things worth learning that far surpass in ultimate importance the Pythagorean Theorem, the proper form of a parenthetical notation or the cause of the War of 1812 combined.  Twain reminds us that we are quite as likely to learn key lessons outside of the classroom as inside.

                Take my family’s spring break, for example.  As I write, my wife and kids and I are in Le Mars, Iowa.  I know what you are thinking.  Who drives 700 miles to a small town in northwest Iowa for spring break when the same mileage could take you to Pensacola, Florida?  But twenty years ago I took my first job as a new college graduate right here in Le Mars as a youth pastor.  Our trip to Iowa has several purposes: to catch up with old friends, to introduce my family to them (and vice versa) and also to seek financial and prayer support for our upcoming move and ministry to Haiti.  But for all that, it can’t help but be educational too. 

A handful of the lessons impressed on my family and me this week:

1)       You only need to drive two states over to discover curious cultural differences.  For example, sloppy joe sandwiches here are called “taverns” or (much less appealingly) “loose meat sandwiches” and are often served without the sauce … just fried hamburger and onion.

2)      The town of Le Mars is the “Ice Cream Capital of the World”.  This is the birthplace of Wells’ Blue Bunny, whose factories crank out 250,000 gallons of ice cream each day.  Annually, the company uses enough chocolate on their ice cream bars to put a one inch thick coating over 47 football fields.

3)      Time refuses to stand still.  Yesterday I walked into the local McDonalds, which has long been a gathering place for farmers enjoying coffee and fellowship, and saw an eighty year old man in overalls and tattered baseball cap sitting with a cup of coffee.  He looked every bit the stereotype of the weathered farmer except for the cell phone in his left hand and the IPad propped on the table in front of him.

4)      Old friends are the best friends. And late night conversations are more fun than the fanciest amusement park.

Some of these lessons I already knew, but it’s nice to experience them afresh without the pressure of school work bearing down on these precious days.  The research papers will wait.


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