For 13 years, I was a public school teacher. It was my fifth career, actually.

First, I was a secretary for a major oil company. Then I was a stay-at-home mom. Then I became a writer and reporter for this newspaper.

My fourth career was as a teacher. Now I’m a retiree, trying to find my way through occasional boredom, wonderful hours babysitting grandchildren and doing some part-time work, both in the school system and writing this column.

But as the school year ends for most of our kids, I found myself going down memory lane. I remembered those last days, especially as I’ve been in a couple of schools recently.

The kids are ready to start their summer, and teachers are anxious for them to go so they, too, can begin relaxing and get away from demanding lesson plans, discipline and being on stage for almost eight hours a day.

As many staff developments that teachers attend, nobody prepares an educator for that last week. They know they’re supposed to pack up books, give back all papers, take down posters and lock up supplies.

We read so much about kids who don’t want to learn, overzealous parents, and dangerous situations at schools. The pay’s not great, the work is overwhelming, a teacher’s heart breaks every time there’s a shooter drill, and the morale among the staff can be lower than low.

While all that is true, there’s a few things a teacher often doesn’t realize until the year’s over.

When the last batch of kids leave the building, the faculty luncheon is over and everyone’s waiting for the “all-clear” call on the intercom that teachers can leave, educators realize one thing – it’s too quiet.

Halls and schools aren’t meant to be empty and quiet. They’re meant to be full of laughter, learning, and sneakered feet tapping their way down the hall, teachers reminding them to stay in the line.

During the year, bells ring, doors slam and lock and announcements over the loudspeaker interrupt instructional time on a regular basis. There’s the phone calls and emails from frustrated parents, emails from administrators wanting lesson plans, forms filled out and, quite frankly, mind-numbing data they want collected.

Educators didn’t get into this profession for that.

Teachers want to be the ones imparting information to their students. They’re supposed to teach them how to spell words and write essays. They’re supposed to teach them multiplication, division, addition and subtraction. And let’s not forget the names of the 50 states, their capitols and the life cycle of a butterfly.

That’s the requirements of the job, but teachers often overlook what students taught them.

They taught patience. Picture that student in the class who asked endless questions, despite having the instructions on the board and repeating them endlessly in class.

Not all of us absorb information the same way. Teachers need to thank that young person for teaching them that learning doesn’t arrive in a tidy, square box.

They reminded their teachers to laugh. Sometimes, the best attitude a teacher can possess is the ability to laugh.

Teachers need to remember the class where they made a mistake and then laughed it off. The thing is, kids laugh with you, not at you.

They teach that it’s okay to be human, okay to laugh instead of cry and to let them see teachers can have a great sense of humor.

They taught acceptance. That student a teacher thought was beyond redemption turned in a fabulous paper. The kid who almost dropped the camera a dozen times caught some of the best photos in the class. The child with the IEP paperwork turns out to be the most dedicated kid in the room.

All teachers make mistakes.

The kids overlooked them.

Teachers will lose their temper.

The kids showed forgiveness.

Students teach the intangibles. They tested the teacher every single day, and that, in turn, taught teachers that it’s okay to be frustrated with a job but still love what you’re doing. Nobody tells teachers how much they will love those children. They get into your heart and stay there forever.

Those halls will be filled in a few weeks. And that’s how every school building should be – noisy and brimming with possibilities. Without the kids, a school is just a building.

Have a great summer, educators, you’ve earned it.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.

 

 

I’ve been doing a lot of escaping lately. Not by literally going through one of those escape rooms or on an airplane to some exotic location.

My escaping has been through mindless scrolling on the internet.

One of my favorite escapes is the reels and short video option on Facebook. These are mini stories, usually less than two minutes, and the content is probably decided from my past viewing history and some faceless artificial intelligence being in the blogosphere.

Most of the time, the videos on my reel are cute kids. I love watching Frankie and Stevie, two sisters, as they go through life. Frankie’s got a huge vocabulary and her sister’s right behind her.

There’s also quite a few medical videos. I clicked on Dr. Pimple Popper a couple of times, so now I’m offered gross medical procedures from Dr. Karan Raj. I’m sorry I clicked on him and some of the others because now I think there’s at least three undetected major medical issues going on simultaneously in my body.

Craft and home make-over videos show up all the time. The last time I undertook a craft project was when my kids were in elementary school, and that was years ago.

My craft supplies include Elmer’s glue, pom poms, scissors and pieces of felt. Modern home crafters have power saws, electric sanders and all kinds of goop to put on refinished furniture.

A female comic, Leanne Morgan, showed up one day, and I’ve been hooked on her videos. She’s from Tennessee and is over the age of 50. She talks about being low on hormones, the many diets she’s been on and her wild days in the 80s.

She’s coming to the Smart Financial Center in September, but paying $150 for a ticket is a little over my price range. Didn’t those robots see I choose a lot of videos on how to do things on the cheap?

I think I’ve seen every funny clip of “Modern Family” and “Young Sheldon” on that reel option. I cannot resist Gloria, Mitch and Cameron and the best of the best from their time on television. Clips from “The Office” are always entertaining as are classic skits from “The Carol Burnett Show.”

The artificial intelligence genie knows I’ll watch recipes that include dumping bags of Fritos, ground meat and cheese in a slow cooker. I’ll sit there and watch those videos for a half hour, hoping something, anything, will come up that’s healthy, quick and cheap. No luck so far.

There’s two new guys that showed up this week, and I keep clicking on their videos in hopes that they’ll become regulars. One wears a red tie and tries out some of the “hacks” on TikTok, like how to unlock your iPhone. Khaby Lame tries out some of the hacks people post and, without saying a word, sheds light on some of the ridiculous ideas people think are ingenious.

There’s always the down-home advice of influencer Ophelia Nichols, also known as “Mama Tot” who invites people to eat lunch with her while she dispenses words of wisdom. She’s always inspirational and fun.

I’ll watch every hair cut and hair style video that appears on my feed even though I’ve had the same basic hair style for years. I’d never shave my head or spend $500 to have somebody put yellow then purple then blue goop on my hair.

Rosie’s been making me look better than I deserve for three decades and it only takes her an hour to work her magic on my hair.

Housework and dishes can wait because I’ve got a few rabbit holes to disappear down. When I see you in a few hours, I’ll have the answer to whether or not chocolate-covered pickles taste good and the easiest way to cut up a lime.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

Mother’s Day is this weekend, and our family is lucky our mom is still with us. She’s 90 years young and going strong.

Others aren’t as fortunate to have their moms here, and I know this holiday is difficult. It’s also painful for those who’ve lost a child because the mother’s heart always yearns for the one who’s not here.

Motherhood can be either through birthing a child, adoption, or embracing someone who needs a mom. Men can serve the motherhood role in a child’s life as can an aunt, uncle, grandparent, neighbor, friend or teacher.

No matter where a mom comes from, they usually have words of wisdom we hear all our lives. Most are practical – brush your teeth before you go to bed, eat your vegetables and always wear clean underwear.

These gems are practical, like teaching you how to make your bed, wash your clothes or drive a car. The real gold comes from the advice our moms have given us that serve us well every step of the way.

The women in my family have tossed out a few memorable pieces of advice over the years. My Grandmother Marguerite had dozens of sayings about life, some of which are not suitable for this family newspaper.

These are ones I remember, and I promise, they will serve you well:

“Never turn down an opportunity to go on a date, even if you don’t particularly care for the boy. Others will see you’re out and know you’re available.”

“Always remember to have fun along the way.”

Our cousin, Sylvia, is the eldest girl in the Hebert clan. She remembers quite a few Marguerite sayings:

“Act as if you belong wherever you are. If you don’t, someone will let you know, and it may or may not be true.”

“Always put your travel on credit cards. That way, if you die on your trip, you won’t have had to save up for a vacation.”

“Always date younger men. The ones your age are too old for you.”

“Listen to your body. It will tell you everything you need to know.”

Marguerite also told us to always buy nice, shoes. Forget sensible – high heels should be in every girl’s closet. Our Aunt Kathy told us to always keep a pair of gold shoes handy – they are a go-to when going out on the town.

My mom is well known for the advice she’s given over the years. My siblings remember these diamonds: “Getting old is not for sissies,” and our absolute favorite, “All my children are perfect.”

I’d like to think I’ve given my boys the usual momisms – “Your face is going to freeze like that” and “I’m going to count to three.”

I’d like to think those are words of wisdom because all children need to learn how to mask the times they think someone’s an idiot. They also needed to learn how to count.

Some of my phrases they quote come from driving. I have a short fuse in a vehicle and a low tolerance for people who behave stupidly behind the wheel of a car.

Whenever someone would zoom past us, I’d yell one of two phrases:  “Somebody better be bleeding in that car” or “speed on brother, hell aint’ half full.”

To this day, if they’re in the car with me and someone goes by us as a high speed, they turn to me and say “Don’t even think about saying it.”

I like to think I created something memorable for them. Not helpful memorable, but memorable all the same.

Take some of the advice from these savvy women. Listen to your body. Never turn down an opportunity to go out on the town, in your gold shoes, and, remember, have fun along the way.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

When we moved to Pecan Grove over 35 years ago, one of the restaurants everyone said should be on our “must-visit” list was The Swinging Door.

We followed that advice, and The Swinging Door is still one of our favorites.

After over 50 years in business, owner Steve Onstad announced he’s moving on to another chapter, and The Swinging Door will close as of July 1.

The rumors about the barbecue place’s closing were rampant on social media until Onstad made the announcement official.

For many people, especially those in Richmond, this establishment has been part of their lives. We visited so many times when our boys were young. Because of the concrete floors and relaxed atmosphere, spills and noise didn’t matter.

Many an end-of-the-year baseball party was celebrated there as were engagement parties, weddings, funeral receptions and family get-togethers. The staff and Onstad welcomed everyone.

Besides some of the most delicious slow-cooked brisket in east Texas, The Swinging Door offers something that’s quickly disappearing – they are family owned and operated.

Most stores and restaurants these days are corporate owned. You can go to a McDonald’s or Chili’s in any city and the taste and choices are the same. At The Swinging Door, the choices are based on what owner Steve Onstad wanted to serve:  beef brisket, pork ribs, chicken, sausage and turkey.  Side dishes are creamy potato salad, potatoes, beans, cole slaw, green beans, dirty rice or mac and cheese.

Some restaurants serve chips and salsa – here you’ll get warm bread you can dip in Onstad’s famous barbecue sauce. Desserts are simple yet delicious. If it’s fancy you want, go spend three times what you would at The Swinging Door and you’ll find that.

No menu choices with fancy names or created with spices few people can pronounce. Just meat, slow-cooked until it’s fork tender and can literally melt in your mouth. Some of us love the huge baked potatoes, and children enjoy a familiar PB&J sandwich.

It’s impossible to drive down FM-359 and not have your mouth water when you pass by the restaurant – that smell of meat over pecan wood is distinct and enchanting.

When our son was returning to Taiwan a few years ago, he’d promised some of his friends he’d bring them back genuine Texas brisket. We ordered a brisket from the restaurant, and we wrapped it carefully in foil, hoping it wouldn’t get confiscated by a jealous TSA agent.

He said everyone on the plane wondered about that wonderful smell. When they found out he was taking back a couple of pounds of Texas slow-cooked brisket, they all wanted just a little taste.

He politely refused. When he got to Taiwan, his Texas buddies felt like they were back home.

We met our son’s future in-laws at The Swinging Door, and we got to know each other over a barbecue sandwich and tall glass of iced tea. When out of towners come and want some genuine Texas food, we take them to The Swinging Door.

So many of our sons’ friends worked there, and we’d always beg for the recipe to the wonderful sauce they serve. Nope, they’d say. Restaurant secret.

Most people agree The Swinging Door is one of the best around. From reviews on TripAdvisor to Facebook, Onstad’s barbecue earns five out of five stars or the top recommendation they can bestow.

The Swinging Door is a restaurant owned by a family where you can take your family, at least for the coming few weeks. They’ve opened their doors to at least three generations of Texans looking for a taste of their state’s most honored meal, brisket and beans.

You’ll be missed, Steve Onstad.

Thank you for a half century of good eating and good company.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.