Savvy Women

Troy Headrick
The American University in Cairo
Maadi, Cairo, Egypt
contact@savvy-women-magazine.com

Quick preview. This video is about dogs–old ones–that wear really cool sunshades.

Watching it reminded me of my mom. I guess I’m easily reminded of her right now because it’s that time of year when I’m preparing to fly back home, to Texas, for summer vacation.

My mother is the proud owner of two dachshunds, or as I prefer to say, two kielbasas (hold the mustard).

The two beasts in question are named Lilli and Harper. I’m not for sure what inspired my mother to name Lilli Lilli, but she has told me that Harper was named after Harper Lee, author of her all-time favorite book, To Kill a Mockingbird.

I know that my timing is off by a few weeks, but let’s go ahead and think of this blog as my Mother’s Day present. HAPPY LATE MOTHER’S DAY, MOM!!!

Every summer there’s always a period of adjustment whenever I arrive at my mother’s house from whatever far-flung place I’ve been living. Of course, I always have jetlag and reverse culture shock those first few days until my body and mind become acclimated. By far, the biggest adjustment of all, though, is getting used to being around those two sleek hounds again. Conversely, it always takes a little while for them to get reacquainted with me.

Those first few days right after my arrival are always tricky. During this period, the dogs are apt to bark wildly every single time I emerge from the bedroom where I stay when I’m visiting. Their little doggie brains just can’t seem to process what it means to have a stranger (a tall one with a deep voice!) in the house. I often catch them in the act of sneaking up on me, extending their noses toward my legs, and then giving me ye ole sniff of inspection. Of course, I see this as the epitome of rudeness. How would they feel if I tiptoed up to them and repeatedly inhaled in their general direction?

My mother does not think of Lilli and Harper as dogs. In fact, she doesn’t even call them dogs. She refers to them as “short people,” and with legs that measure right at four inches long, I’d have to say her description is apt, at least as concerns the shortness bit.

Observing my mother interact with those short people reminds me of the time when my brother and I were young (and short) and living at home. Every summer I invariably overhear my mother say something to the dogs like “NO FIGHTING!” and immediately have one of those strange, déjà vu experiences. It’s really weird to hear my mother saying the same things to Lilli and Harper that she used to say to the two of us. It’s like having the opportunity to be a third party to my own upbringing.

I’ve never asked my mother about this, but I think she got the dogs because she is one of those mothers who somehow developed an addiction to mothering, so when the house got empty, she had to fill it again with “people” who needed her. There was a craving there that had to be satisfied.

I think this summer, when I go back home, I’ll ask her about my theory and about why she seems to need those hairy midgets so much…

Troy Headrick
The American University in Cairo
Maadi, Cairo, Egypt
contact@savvy-women-magazine.com

Village Home Education Resource Center from Village Home on Vimeo.

It’s confession time. Before watching this video, I’d always had kind of a negative feeling about homeschooling. I’d wondered if homeschooled children were getting the sort of educational experience that would allow them to become happy, well-adjusted people and productive members of society. But I now realize that those notions were based on what? Ignorance, I suppose, would have to be the answer to that question. After all, what experience did I have with homeschooling? What did I really know about it? Not much before viewing the Village Home Education Resource Center video.

Now, after watching, I’d have to say that if I had a child, I’d want her to attend Village Home or an “unschool” just like it.

I am a product of the public education system in Texas. (Writing that sentence made me realize that “system” is the perfect word to describe how I was educated during my formative years.) My schooling was indeed heavily systematic, meaning regimented, boring, teacher-centered, and designed with the idea in mind that “one size fits all.” The system did everything it could to turn me into a human widget. About the time I started eighth grade, I became something of a rebel. Looking back at that period of my life, I’d have to admit that frustration, in large part, fueled my rebelliousness. It frustrated me to have to spend so many hours of my day cooped up in an institution that didn’t know me or didn’t know how to give me what I needed and/or wanted to become my best self. Rather than setting me free, the system held me back.

I bet many of you have similar stories to tell.

Now, all these decades later, I am on the other end. I am part of a system. I am a teacher, and I have students. I work for a well-known university in the Middle East. On a daily basis I have to find a way to balance the needs of my students with the mores of the institution that pays my salary. In finding that balance, I almost always end up tilting the scale toward the needs of my students.

One thing I have learned over the years–and is shown so vividly in the Village Home video–is that learning and teaching (when they are done well) are “messy,” meaning that too much control can stifle them. I’m afraid that such an idea would scare many school administrators. (Administration, after all, is about exerting control, right?) While listening to Lori Walker, Executive Director of Village Home, I get the feeling that she understands this and that the resource center she represents does a lot to encourage the sort of learning environment where children can be themselves and thus flourish.

One of my favorite parts of the video comes at the very end when Alice Cotton, one of the Village Home instructors, says, “The children are already geniuses. Human beings are natural learners. We don’t have to force it. What we have to do is allow it.”

Well said, Alice. I couldn’t agree more.