66.5
I was born on May 23, 1946, into a middle class Reformed Jewish family in New York City.
Today, my half-birthday, I am a Quaker married to an Orthodox Christian, living in a middle class neighborhood in Arlington VA.
I have remarked to my wonderful spouse, Leaves on the Current, that in 2 months, when I reach 66 2/3, I will qualify as a Long Playing Record of some sort :-) - for those of you old enough to remember when LPs were the dominant form of hove music entertainment.
At this stage of my life, I often find myself reflecting on the past, particularly on the anniversary of important occasions, such as yesterday, the 49th anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy.
Yet merely reflecting upon the past, distant or recent, seems so insufficient. Perhaps that is an artifact of the 17 years previously spend in the classroom, teaching adolescents from 7th through 12 grades. It seems even more insufficient when I prepare to teach the students into whose lives I have just been inserted as a replacement teacher for the rest of the year. I will not revisit the details I offered in a previous diary about the kinds of students we have in our school, why it is a situation that stretches me both as a teacher and as a person.
I want these children - I want all children - to have a future full of hope and opportunity.
I do not want to see the world become less welcoming, more restrictive.
I do not want them to be lamenting what has already been
Today, my half-birthday, I am a Quaker married to an Orthodox Christian, living in a middle class neighborhood in Arlington VA.
I have remarked to my wonderful spouse, Leaves on the Current, that in 2 months, when I reach 66 2/3, I will qualify as a Long Playing Record of some sort :-) - for those of you old enough to remember when LPs were the dominant form of hove music entertainment.
At this stage of my life, I often find myself reflecting on the past, particularly on the anniversary of important occasions, such as yesterday, the 49th anniversary of the assassination of John F. Kennedy.
Yet merely reflecting upon the past, distant or recent, seems so insufficient. Perhaps that is an artifact of the 17 years previously spend in the classroom, teaching adolescents from 7th through 12 grades. It seems even more insufficient when I prepare to teach the students into whose lives I have just been inserted as a replacement teacher for the rest of the year. I will not revisit the details I offered in a previous diary about the kinds of students we have in our school, why it is a situation that stretches me both as a teacher and as a person.
I want these children - I want all children - to have a future full of hope and opportunity.
I do not want to see the world become less welcoming, more restrictive.
I do not want them to be lamenting what has already been
