I wrote my first post about unschooling and how we were thinking about ways to homeschool a little less than three weeks ago, and pretty much right after I wrote that, it became clear we would be jumping in head first, sooner than later. As the testing began and the pressure rose for our first grader, her days became more miserable and her nights filled with stress and anxiety. We found ourselves thinking (again), surely there must be a better way. So we took the plunge and pulled her out of school.
Our oldest has just entered her fifth year of public school with our middle child entering her second, and it's becoming more and more clear, every day, that much of what I read about school from around the country is true for us: public education is broken. I am not an education expert, nor do I play one on TV, but it seems to be that even at some of the "best" schools, education and learning is still about getting good grades to get a good job to make money to buy stuff. And how to get good grades still looks very similar to my primary school education 20+ years ago. In fact, the rubric for success in school is basically the same, too (i.e. turn in your homework, do well on tests, don't rock the boat, etc.).
You see, the funny thing about that title is that maybe you were expecting an interesting retrospective on some weakness I have, or something I struggle with—but no, this is literally about issues with my achilles. Both of them actually. A new chapter on injuries from minimalist running.
I had been cruising along pretty good there for a minute—no pain beyond the usual wear-and-tear of running for months—but after being sick in May and taking almost two weeks off from running, I came back to it, taking it easy, and both my achilles had sharp pains in them. I had experienced this before, on and off, but I was able to just slow things down a little for the first mile and the pain would fade. Sure, the next day my achilles would be sore and stiff, but I wasn’t too concerned. Heading out mid-May was different. I handled the pain for each run, but the next day I was significantly more uncomfortable. And it didn’t fade even with time off.
This dude makes a “keytar” out of a fully functional Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) and proceeds to play the Game of Thrones theme (in its entirety!), complete with lasers and smoke in the background. Um…what else is there to say? Be sure to listen through to the end for a super-classy finish. (Originally discovered via Engadget.)
There are two obvious indicators of the level of stress in my life: how long my beard is and my presence (or lack thereof) on social media. When I’ve got a lot of projects at work, someone in the house is sick, extra family appointments/obligations—or D, all of the above—I can’t seem to make time to trim the beard or bring myself to carve out time for the socials. Those two things, for whatever reason, are the first to go.
It’s a little complicated because part of my job is actually managing our social media accounts. I have a small team now to help with that, so during times I’m overwhelmed, I lean on my fellow team members, just making enough time for quality control, but not much else. And my personal accounts? Forget it. Basically comatose.
Lately though, things seem to be settling down a little—in life-life and work-life—and I trimmed the beard and dug back into the Twitter, Facebook, and Google+ accounts. I’ve made more time for surfacing new content, replying to and retweeting others’ posts, and have generally had my finger on the pulse of things. And it feels good. It feels good to be back to awareness and engagement, with the information flowing around me, but also with the people in my networks.
I’ve found myself wondering if one of the keys to me not feeling so stressed out is taking time for connecting through social media. I know it’s healthy and necessary to take breaks from online life, but I think I need to be aware when I’m not engaging because I’m overwhelmed, and make time to join those online conversations. Like making sure you go outside to get some sun if you feel depressed. And I need to make sure I’m making time for the other things that replenish me…like trimming that beard.
The video above does a great job explaining Net Neutrality, what’s at risk, and why it’s important to maintain. Of course, several corporations are threatening to further regulate speed, access, and even content based on who can pay the most, acting as gatekeepers to the internet, something that should be open to everyone. Already, the internet isn’t free and open since we have to pay for service and devices to access it—and for many providers, data speeds are regulated based on how much you pay—but soon the FCC will decide if internet service providers can further throttle speeds and content, allowing corporations even more control of an important component of our infrastructure.
It’s sickening how many of the important decisions for our entire society are decided by they wealthy few, and this is just another example of a basic freedom that we need to be aware of and fight for.
In these situations, I don’t always know what I can do or if what I do makes any difference. But I think there is value in just being informed and sharing conversations with others, especially people who aren’t as aware or don’t share the same values as you. I think it’s important not to be confrontational, but open, planting seeds where you can.
You can submit a comment to the FCC at FreePress’s site, and the deadline for the first round of comments is
tonight, July 15, 2014, at midnight Friday, July 18, 2014 (due to an overload of the commenting system!).
The only way we don’t get completely rolled by these corporations is by raising our voices, so I hope you’ll join me and others in spreading awareness.
I miss that “school’s out” feeling. You remember the one. It began to wash over you the morning you awoke on that last day of school and slowly settled in and warmed your whole body as the day progressed. Everyone was abuzz with excitement and relief, even the teachers, and as you walked off campus for the last time that year, there seemed to only be possibilities. Somehow with that final bell you were more free than you had been since you could remember. When that bell rung, time ceased to exist and summer began.
Today I ran my 1,000th mile. Not “ever,” but since I’ve been tracking my runs using Nike+—first with the shoe insert thingy, then with my iPhone—since early 2011. And although I know plenty of people who probably cover that distance in much less time, I’m pretty proud of this achievement.
I have plenty of excuses not to run. I have three small kids and a crazy-busy job. I live where there are long stretches in the summer with temperatures soaring above 100. In the winter it drops down to the low 40s (which by native-Californian standards is practically freezing). I’ve torn my hamstring and had a knee injury at the end of 2012. But there’s something about running that keeps pulling me back in. It’s partly my competitive nature and partly the freedom of moving. It’s also therapeutic, getting me outside and in motion to clear my head and relieve stress, and has been a great way to take care of myself these last few years.
I see you drive by, at the corner of Palm and Shields, sir
Your blue pickup, lowered, daughter in the front passenger
Trailer of yard tools in tow
And I couldn’t help but notice your unapologetic mullet
It’s clear you two have been together for some time
And I wonder…
What’s up with that?
Are you an original rocker or is it something new?
Was the sensibility of its design too good to pass up
And keep, for that matter?
When you hear “Business up front, party in the back” how do you feel?
I have so many questions, sir
Is it past the point of no return?
Have you endured years of ridicule,
Hardened by vanity or shear defiance,
To the point that,
There’s just no way you’re cutting that thing now?
Or are you just so secure in your image that
Everyone else can just eat it?
As I sit here and write, it’s clear
I envy you
And maybe even your mullet
But what you and your hair represent is
Kind of beautiful
So to you, sir, I raise a proverbial glass
May you and your short-long live on in glory
In your lowered blue pickup or