About my Grandmother, Mary Hannah Green Olson By Janice Rose Olson Flanagan 9/17/2016 For as long as I can remember, Grandma and Grandpa Olson lived in a small apartment near downtown Idaho Falls. I only remember being with Grandma Olson a few times out of that apartment. As she aged, her diabetes took its toll, and she became housebound. I do remember one shopping trip that ended in a pineapple milkshake at the counter at Woolworths and a couple of visits to our house on special occasions. By the time that Grandma died, just before Easter when I was twelve or thirteen, my memories of her were clustered up a steep flight of stairs in a layout that included a small kitchen with a stovepipe and small refrigerator that held her insulin and syringes. I knew that Grandpa administered her life-saving shots daily. My favorite place in the kitchen was the breadbox, for therein was a stash of Pecan Sandies and maybe some root-beer fizzies. I remember the floor as metal, but in places covered with vinyl. The bathroom was just big enough for the old claw-foot tub, and the bedroom held a closet full of Grandma’s old treasures—gifts given through the years but saved for something special and still in their original wrappings at her death. Old-fashioned pictures on the wall were of a beautiful young woman who (I was shocked to find out) had become this dear grandmother, so old and ill upon her bed. I do not think I had ever seen inside the bedroom until we visited in the last weeks of her life, when she could no longer sit in her beloved living-room chair. The “living room” truly was where Grandma and Grandpa lived. Across the hall was a small storage for coal delivery, and we grandchildren were often charged with filling the bucket and bringing heat to the pot-bellied stove. I remember eating dinner at Grandma’s only once. She served tomato aspic, and I was happy never to relive THAT experience! A massive upright piano dominated one wall. I never heard Grandma play, but she loved to hear us children play, even those very beginning pieces. It was on that piano that I first heard my dad play and learned that he was able to play “by ear.” Grandma requested that I play “Oh, My Father” at her funeral. If I did it, I think I cried through it. I am not sure I was able to honor her request. The only music I heard Grandma play was on her phonograph—old Hawaiian music, which she loved. She also loved her TV, especially Lawrence Welk and Ed Sullivan. On Sunday afternoons when we visited, she might pull out her table-top pinball game or old photograph albums. I loved the old photos, except for one sad picture of Grandma’s last baby, lying in a casket. She had been stillborn. Grandma Olson taught me to embroider. She was a master with a needle and thread! She patiently spent many days with me at her side, teaching me the stiches as I made pillow cases and dish towels. I remember cousins sitting in, but I am not sure they responded to needle work the same way I did. I still love to embroider and never do needle projects without thinking of my Grandmother Olson. I remember a “discussion” on the spelling of our Olson name. Even within the immediate family, some brothers spelled the name with an “e.” I never was sure if the “e” was the one retained from the Swedish Oleson or Olesen. While Grandpa Olson was always away at work or sitting by the fire behind his newspaper (that’s my childhood memory, anyway), Grandma was always at home. She and Grandpa had an odd relationship, I thought. Grandpa served in the church for many years while Grandma stayed in that upstairs apartment. I know Grandma had some issues with some church doctrines--like polygamy. Sometimes when I look in the mirror with my hair severely pulled back I see Grandma Olson staring back. I know she loved me, though her hair was not the only part of her that was severe. I know she loved my mother and relied on her care more than her own children sometimes. She had “knick-knacks” around her house, and I still have one of her little “knick-knack” tables in the corner of my family room. My knick-knacks are memories of sewing, photographs, music, puzzles, cookies, coal buckets, newspapers, and a very sad heart that Sunday we got there just as they were carrying her body down the apartment stairs. I know very little about Mary Hannah Green except what I experienced at her knee, and by then she was a grandma with swollen legs and feet and graying hair pulled into a net. She had lived a whole life as a child, a teen, and a bride. She had birthed seven children and buried one. I am sad that I do not know that young girl because I am sure all those years before me made her who she was to me.

Love of God Matters

This thought is from President Uchtdorf in the October 2009 Conference. I saw it on BYU TV this morning during the scripture discussion: Think of the purest, most all-consuming love you can imagine. Now multiply that love by an infinite amount—that is the measure of God’s love for you. 7 God does not look on the outward appearance. 8 I believe that He doesn’t care one bit if we live in a castle or a cottage, if we are handsome or homely, if we are famous or forgotten. Though we are incomplete, God loves us completely. Though we are imperfect, He loves us perfectly. Though we may feel lost and without compass, God’s love encompasses us completely. He loves us because He is filled with an infinite measure of holy, pure, and indescribable love. We are important to God not because of our résumé but because we are His children. He loves every one of us, even those who are flawed, rejected, awkward, sorrowful, or broken. God’s love is so great that He loves even the proud, the selfish, the arrogant, and the wicked. What this means is that, regardless of our current state, there is hope for us. No matter our distress, no matter our sorrow, no matter our mistakes, our infinitely compassionate Heavenly Father desires that we draw near to Him so that He can draw near to us.

Testing Matters

The debate rages on about the efficacy of testing! My daughter Jill, who is studying for elementary education, asked me the other day if I am with all those who are screaming about too much testing—“all the kids do is test.” I thought for a moment before answering that when testing is used to differentiate for learning needs, adjust instruction, and inform interventions, it is a most valuable tool. Jill agrees because her children have attended school here at Copper Hills, and she has seen how great teachers use assessment to give HER children the best possible in elementary education. I have thought about her question (and comments from Facebook about a post I did about Common Core) for days now and even discussed it with some of you. IS all this testing necessary? Important? Useful? Instructive? Informative? Enabling? Have I gone to the “dark side” because I support the constant checks for understanding, DIBELS progress monitoring, Acuity screeners and benchmarks, CFAs, unit tests, writing assessment programs, IXL and Moby Max, the 36s testing, oral quizzing, data collection, and transparency in scoring? I would like to make a case for all this testing! • John Haddie’s Visible Learning (2008) meta study suggests that the highest correlation among all educational strategies lies in student accountability for their own learning—scores. skills, grades, etc. I see that when students own their own data (through assessment) and set their own goals, they also are motivated to learn. If our focus is on student learning, what more could we ask? I interviewed about 90 students last week who proudly displayed their data books and informed me of their increases. They owned their achievement, and they were proud and motivated by that! It works better than ANY OTHER learning strategy! • Teachers at Copper Hills who are devoted to student achievement reward increase and meeting goals. This reward (praise, tangible rewards, recognition) motivates and encourages students to do better! An old Yiddish saying says, “BETTER has no end.” Indeed, we are always trying to find a better way. • All that testing and data proves that we educators are doing our job. This is an argument that the District gives for testing, and it is true. I once heard a superintendent from back East say that he could tell the students were learning by “looking in their eyes.” That just is not true! He is living in make-believe land. We know that students have learned the skills we are teaching when they can produce, explain, or in another way show their learning. • Reviewing data helps us become better teachers. When I was an intern administrator, I interviewed an excellent teacher who told me that she actually appreciated NCLB because it made her a better teacher. What!?! I had never heard of such a thing—an educator in favor of all that testing involved in No Child Left Behind? The teacher moved at the end of that year to another school district, but I learned a lesson from her: teachers who USE the data from testing to become better educators have found a formula that works. We are all about STUDENT LEARNING. Students are excited and happy when they are learning. • Those small, formative tests (even checks for understanding within each lesson) allow teachers to reteach, review, enrich, and differentiate for each student. A CFA is a common formative assessment used by teachers on a team, teaching the same lesson, to find which students have mastered the lesson. It can be an exit ticket of a couple of questions or a 10-question quiz to inform the teacher of student learning needs. Masterful teachers use CFAs to find students who need more help or are ready for enrichment. When I started teaching 30 years ago, testing was not such a big deal. As a teacher, though, I felt the need to assess my students’ learning at every turn so that I could differentiate and intervene appropriately. I was always quizzing during lessons and listening. Without doing that I felt that my “teaching” was in vain. Delivering information or presenting material is not an educator’s job. Student learning is what we are after! It takes more than looking a student’s eyes to see if we have done the job we are hired to do. Assessing is essential. It is constant. It is informative. It is rewarding--when used to ensure student success in the learning community. Have a really GREAT week! Keep doing hard things!

Singin' in the Rain

With all the goopy air and lack of sunshine this time of year, I sometimes have to remember to find the joy despite my circumstances. I remind myself that I do not have to deal with abuse or the horrors of war in my country like Corrie ten Boom or Victor Frankel. I do not have to live in a hut or walk miles to get my water. I do not have to heat my water to bathe or boil it before it is drinkable. I did not have to deal with a tornado this weekend or an earthquake last week. My car runs and I love my job. Even when I have a difficult day, I have a thousand reasons to dredge up some happiness. I remind myself that, “The happiest people I know are not those who find their golden ticket; they are those who, while in the pursuit of worthy goals, discover and treasure the beauty and sweetness of the everyday moments.” (D. F. Uchtdorf) We had the grand opportunity of experiencing Europa Park in southern Germany over the Christmas holiday. We went from Berlin on a 7-hour train trip (not without some diversions and challenges) with our son, daughter-in-law, and five young grandchildren. Europa Park is quite an experience—larger than Disneyland with trains and monorails, circuses, ice capades, and hundreds of pseudo-Disney rides. The theme is the countries of Europe. The first night we were there, after our harrowing journey through Germany, we jumped right into the fun, despite the cold and rainy weather. After a few hours we bought an umbrella in “Iceland,” determined to enjoy the price of the tickets. We were only ready to give up for the night when we were all soaking wet and cold to the bone. Jim and I each held three-year-old Isabella by the hand between us and headed back to the hotel. We would have been miserable except for one little thing: Bella’s feet hardly touched the ground as she skipped through the puddles and freezing rain, singing happily along with the Christmas music blaring through the park. Jim and I just looked at each other and laughed! It was one of those everyday moments that brought us joy despite the misery. Find the joy this week! It is found in doing hard things. I'm going to try to do a little singing in the rain. . .mmm. . .snow...mmm. . .

ice

It Matters What Grandkids Think!

The great summer treat discovery: making our own "slurpees!" I saw it on Studio 5, and the kids were all for trying it. Any soda pop goes into the Cuisenart ice-cream maker, and in a few minutes you have your very own wonderful icee or slurpee or slushie. It is my grandkids' favorite summer find. Their favorite is red cream soda. Ahhhh! So little to make them so happy! I myself have not tried the spectacular homemade treat because diet soda does NOT work! Jim and I have each lost over 40 pounds this summer on Simple2Lose (or Medifast or Take Shape for Life), so our treats consist of Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper or diet Jello! The only bad part is that I have been SO perfect on the diet (and started a month sooner), and Jim is catching up with me. Why do men lose faster than we women? I know it is definitely NOT because of their outstanding willpower...

Matters of a Pioneering Heart

Our choir sang "A Pioneering Heart" by Janice Kapp Perry today. It was especially fitting following the week that our ward's youth had spent on Trek. All of today's meetings were emotional as speakers and teachers recalled the sacrifices of the Pioneers of the Martin-Willey Handcart Company. Jim and I had spent a day this summer at Martin's Cove and listened to a book about the women of the company, Sandra Dallas' TRUE SISTERS. It reminds me of the Primary song that says, "You don't have to push a handcart, leave your family dear, or walk a thousand miles or more to be a pioneer!" We all have to do hard things. A man in our Sunday-School class (as we studied Alma 38) suggested that "troubles" we bring on ourselves, while trials are "divine tutorials." The brother is new to our ward, newly married, and has a brain injury that causes speech and physical problems. I am not sure I would have made a very faithful pioneer of the 1800s, but I pray that I may face my own troubles and trials with their same kind of faith, commitment, and perseverance. I am thankful for the pioneeers of the past and the present who inspire me.