Back to School

This past week, I took a class at UNC-Chapel Hill as part of the NC Scholastic Media Association's Teaching Fellows program. Each summer the NCSMA offers a graduate level class to media/journalism teachers and covers the cost of it. It was a great opportunity and this was my second time taking part in this program. The focus of the course was teaching design (graphic design) to high school students and was a semester's worth of content taught in a week.

I went into the course with limited knowledge on the topic and little to no experience using the apps we were using in the class. There were six students in our class; our teacher was a renowned professor, quite accomplished in his field.  As the week wore on, I noticed many subtle and not so subtle ways that this class, even though it was just one week, mimicked "real life" classrooms, or at least the experience that students have in school.

What follows are some random thoughts and takeaways I had during this week:

Even though there were just six of us in the class, we sort of had the same "cast of characters" you'd find in classrooms anywhere. We had the high flyer who got it right away and took work to the next level. Some plugged away at their work, quietly minding their own business. Others would speak out as they worked through figuring out what needed to be done. Some would show their frustration out loud. Others would not.

Just like in real life, relationships drive the dynamics of the classroom. As we got to know each other better, we were more helpful and solicitous of each other, and the time our teacher took on the first day to get to know each of us and learn about "where we were coming from" helped set the tone for the course and week, as well. Developing these relationships throughout the week made us feel more comfortable with the critiquing process we worked through on the last two days of the class.

Learning can be hard! And messy.  And comes in starts and spurts. Parts of this class were difficult for me, and as I worked through the frustration of not "getting it" the first time (or even the second time), I felt humbled and developed a much greater understanding for what students might go through at school.  It was almost like my brain went through a virtual "rolodex" of thoughts during the harder parts: "Wow, this is cool." "Oh, I'm not good at this." "Why can't I get it?" "What's wrong with me?" "I'm disappointed that it wasn't easier; I thought it would be." "Ohhhh, now I get it....that makes more sense." "Wow, look what I created!" "I bet I can do this with more practice."

Designing projects. Well, it can be intimidating, exciting and difficult...all at the same time. When our teacher handed out project instructions, I'd notice some of my classmates coming up with ideas fairly quickly, but I would have a hard time even getting started and maybe feel a bit of anxiety as I thought, "I can't think of anything creative to do." I know students sometimes feel like this, too. When we were given our last project, I had a list of ideas, finally decided on a topic, went through steps of the design thinking process, and began developing a vision for it/sketching iterations. But after getting started and plugging away for a couple of hours, I realized that my plan wasn't fully developed and I felt stuck, so had to go back and regroup.

Not only do I see this sort of thing happen with my students, I'm pretty sure I caution against getting started before having a well developed plan, and yet, I was so excited to get to work, I did just that! I learned many things about going through the process of really developing a project from scratch and I think the way I teach this process to students is going to look much different when we go back to school next month.

I love getting into a working state of flow. This isn't a new for me, but I was really aware of it during this class, when we would have a good chunk of dedicated work time. I'd have an ear bud in, music playing and really focus on my work. I want my students to experience that more and know what it feels like to get to a place where you're so into what you're doing you almost lose awareness of what else is going on around you.

Grading vs Feedback. When I got my first grade, which was just okay, I was disappointed. I wondered it it was worth it. When I got my second grade, which was a bit better than the first and accompanied by a good amount of constructive feedback, I felt better.  Learning how to give quality feedback is so much more important that just a number grade. It's what will actually help students learn, improve and grow. Giving better feedback was one of my stated goals at the end of last school year for this coming school year and I was happy to experience quality feedback in action, particularly as we presented our final projects,  to get better ideas of what I want it to look like in my class.

I really learned a ton this week in this class. Content wise, well, when I look at my final project vs. the first day, it kind of stuns me. And I'm looking forward to working at getting much better at this and introducing these concepts to my students. But I learned much more than that. I was talking to my classmates about much of what I've written here and one said how valuable he thinks the experience of taking an actual class like this is, where you are given real assignments to complete and I completely agree. Experiencing the highs and lows of being a student, even if just for a week, can only make me be a better, more empathetic teacher and even though I'm kind of feeling a bit of the "mid July blues" because summer is practically over, I am also almost ready to start looking forward and getting excited for the possibilities that this coming school year holds.

Careless Whispers...

I like to talk. I may not always have much meaningful to say, but I do like to talk. In fact, as a kid, I may have been accused of talking too much more than once.  2nd in fact, my first career was in radio, where I got to talk about whatever was happening on the air as I did another thing I love to do: Listen to music. I worked at an oldies station (Oldies 98.3, All Oldies,  ALL Time, Savannah) and was, for a time, the "queen of oldies trivia."  I'd be with my husband, a song would come on the radio and I would wow him with my great knowledge of whatever artist was singing.  I know he loved that.  In more recent years, I became a teacher and of course I talk all the time at my job.

So, imagine the past 2 weeks as I have been rendered virtually speechless by an extended case of laryngitis. I've lost my voice before and then it came back and we moved on.  This time, the first 2 days weren't so bad, "Listen to my voice," I joked the night my voice went south. Little did I know that I wouldn't be able to use more than a whisper by the end of that night and for the next 13 days after.  Or, 13 days and counting.  If you're wondering, I've gone to the doctor and taken a round of steroids and am following up to figure out next steps (or rather, my husband will call for me).  I have been told by three speech pathologist friends that I need to just rest my voice and doing the whisper thing is the worst thing I can do. So I've really been trying.

Being voiceless during a month of holiday cheer is kind of frustrating and somewhat depressing. Going to parties is really not much fun if you can't actually talk to people, at least if you're an extrovert.  I couldn't take any of my "Happy Birthday" phone calls. I wonder if people in stores think I'm rude or weird if I don't answer with more than a smile, a nod, or a whisper.  Yes, I have used a white board and a white board app on my iPad (it is the 21st century, after all).  And I am able to communicate or use the whisper voice I'm not supposed to use, plus there is texting and messaging. But I feel like this past week and a half has also given me a changed perspective about voice and I feel like I've learned a couple of things, too.

Some things I've learned since being placed into vocal house arrest:

1) Less is more. As I said before, I can be a talker, but writing on a white board, or with my finger on an iPad is annoying and requires economy of words because, frankly, it's a pain to write stuff down and then wait for others to read it. And a few times, by the time I've finished writing it down, the conversation has changed and there I've been, torn between still showing it or just letting it go because it wasn't relevant anymore.  But the economy of words thing? You can really say a lot in very few words. After a situation with a couple of students at school last week where my head was overflowing with a full on lecture, I wrote three words that described how I felt about the situation and showed them and looked them each in the eye as they read. I'm pretty sure they heard those three words much more clearly than they would have if I'd given the lecture I couldn't get out.

2) We can all be a little nicer to each other. As we've been working on finishing up our shopping and preparations for the holidays, I feel like I haven't felt as exasperated by people as I might more typically feel this time of year. You know, the slow walkers in the mall, the retail workers who aren't getting me what I want as quickly as I want it. There I was in a store, getting close to a complete stranger to whisper in his ear to ask for help. He was very nice about it and I was kind of apologetic, but I felt like we'd really bonded by the time we were done. Funny aside, he helped us two days in a row and told me he saw noticeable improvement from one day to the next.

3) Some things are better left unsaid. It really does take some effort to get words out right now, so I have let many things go that I might not ordinarily let go. Snarky comments in response to a little slight? By the time I would get it out or write it down, the spontaneity of the moment would be gone, so I've let it go, even if I've enjoyed the thought of it in my head. So I've learned that it is much easier to take the high road when you are using fewer words.

4) Listen more. I know that when I have conversations with people, I'm often thinking about what I'm going to say next and don't always listen...really listen to and actually hear what the other person is saying. This week, I've been made to listen more and know that I am much better for it and intend to work on that as a skill even after I get my voice back.

5) Even without a voice, most of us really do have a voice. It used to be that pretty much the only people who could be on the radio or TV were those who had jobs in radio or TV.  And pretty much the only people whose words were printed in the newspaper were those who wrote for the paper. In other words, the journalists, the disc jockeys, the personalities.  But nowadays, anyone with access to a device of some sort can create a podcast, a video, a blog, a post on social media. With my Facebook account, I have not really felt terribly silenced this past week. I have been reading, reacting, writing, and entertaining (I hope). What a great gift for us all to have this ability to join in these great nationwide/worldwide conversations. At the same time, since we are all essentially now members of the media, don't we have a HUGE obligation to make sure we are consuming and using this voice we've all been given with an extreme amount of care, responsibility and purpose? The amount of ugliness that gets spewed on the Internet in the name of "my opinion" can't really be what anyone meant when they discussed a free exchange of ideas, can it? And spreading rumor or innuendo as fact is irresponsible too.  Point is, more people than ever before have a voice; I hope we can find a way to channel these voices well, from politicians all the way down to the little guys.

I'm a healthy adult and my vocal chords have taken a little break. I know this isn't a permanent thing. But still I've had moments of sadness or even panic, wondering, "What if I never hear my voice again, or worse, sing a song again?" but it's not real, because I know it will come back. But there are lots of people who really don't have a voice or ability to communicate and I've been thinking more about them lately and realize we all have an obligation to not forget about those who don't have a voice and make sure everyone can be heard.

Finally, I wrote this and made myself laugh, so I'm including it here, too...

With apologies to the original authors

I would while away the hours

And sing loud in the shower

If I only had a voice

I would not write on a white board

And count on my vocal chords

If I only had a voice

Seems to me, a mystery

Just where my voice could be

I could talk to others near or far

And then I’d wait and speak some more

I would stop using a whisper

And act cool like a hipster

If I only had a voice

I would not take it for granted

And enjoy the gift I’m handed

If I only had a voice

What Happens Now?

So it happened. What happens now?

In my head, I've written, rewritten and rewritten again about the swirl of thoughts I've had during the election season and in particular last night.  I've never been a prolific blogger (or in earlier days, journaler), but when I need to write, I write.  And I'm pretty sure I need to write right now.

My heart hurt last night as I sighed and rolled over for the last time for the 2 hours of sleep I got. I woke up, got dressed and took my dog for his walk and when I went outside, I realized that the world didn't stop.  It was getting light and we were doing what we do every weekday morning. And we will continue to do it.


Later, as I headed to work, I stopped for a drink at Starbucks as I would on any other Wednesday.  I smiled and said, "Good morning" to two different men I passed in the parking lot.  I realized again that the world didn't stop and I remembered that the thing that we need now is more kindness.  And I'm going to do my part to make sure it happens.

Oh, I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't profoundly saddened and disappointed by the results of yesterday's election.  I also know that if the results had gone the other way, his supporters would be feeling a similar sense of loss and maybe despair. I've decided to allow myself a bit of time to wallow, maybe eat a little junk food, and then move on.

I can't profess to understand why people were able to overlook the bigotry against so many "others" in this campaign.  We've seen the list so many times that there's no need to type them all, but for each of the people I know who qualifies as an "other," I'm sad and I'm sorry.  I'm confused by those who made the choice to overlook that and vote the way they did.  But I can not live my life hating or angry.  It's stressful,  unhealthy and destructive.  And I won't do it.


I came home this afternoon and read posts from people on both sides, ones of both anger and sadness. Ones claiming not to gloat, but that were absolutely gloating, talking about the "whining of the losers" and how this election was a stand against "political correctness gone too far." And again I was sad, but am determined not to be governed by anger. If they can't be gracious in winning, I'm sure they wouldn't be gracious ever.  That's on them.

As for me, here's where I'm landing. This may not be the outcome I wanted, but he will be the president and I am going to trust that the system will work and that things will be okay.  The Constitution was built the way it was for a reason.  An almost 50-50 split where the loser won the popular vote but not the Electoral College cannot be misinterpreted as any kind of a major mandate. And because of that, I am going to have confidence that the system will work.  That change in government comes slowly and that if the new administration starts heavily targeting the "others," that we will all come together and fight to ensure that they won't get away with it.  This is a time for us to come together, be kind and remember that all the "others" together make one great group of Americans.

Our country already was great, it already is great.  What our country really needs now is to become kind again. 


So...what happens now?

And Then There Were None (At Home, That Is)

Some rambling thoughts upon taking my son to college this weekend...

I’m not new to this game of taking a child to college. I’ve done it one time before, which makes me a veteran college mom. Two years ago, the first time I took one off to college for the first time, I felt like there was so much I needed to tell my older son...stuff that he needed to know right that second. For whatever reason, the most important thing the day before we left to take him was that I hadn’t taught him how to iron, so I made him learn how to iron.  As far as I know, he hasn’t ironed since.  

Two years later, we’re here. Though, this time, it seems I saved all the advice giving for the last day. A day where we were packing, joking, eating obscene amounts of unhealthy food together (looking at you Mini Vermonster), was also the day that I decided it was time to impart all my words of wisdom to him.  And impart, I did.  In conversation, in jokes, in a heartfelt email.  But really, there’s not much I felt the need to tell him (or his brother, for that matter), that hasn’t been said in the past.  Yes, there are laundry tips, housekeeping tips and organization tips, but the lessons they need and should be leaving with should really be the lessons they were getting from us all along, right?  Be kind.  Be true to yourself. Take care of yourself. Work hard. Do your best. Call home. Did I miss anything?  

And now, it’s happened.  This moment that has been looming over us for the better part of the past year, happened today.  I’ve looked at it with excitement, I’ve looked at it with gloom, I’ve looked at it with trepidation and I’ve looked at it with an insane amount of pride that my son knew exactly what he wanted and went for it with the same gusto he’s had for pretty much every other thing he’s wanted to accomplish so far in his 18 years. 

I have read dozens of articles, blog posts, memes and pieces of advice about leaving our kids at college.  I know no less than 120 other moms in the same place we are this weekend...I’ve scrolled through their drop off pictures (and posted our own) on my Facebook feed and realize now that, while my house has a sense of emptiness that it’s never had before, this is the moment we’ve been building toward since, well, since having kids.  They aren’t meant to stay with us forever….I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t even like each other very much if we kept that same mother/child relationship well into their adulthood, because they’re suppose to go off, with baby steps, spread their wings and develop their own lives with the hope that the lessons we’ve passed on stick.  The good ones, at least.  In good ways.

Even President James Garfield had these same sorts of rambling thoughts in 1879 when he wrote of taking his own children off to school, “It will require no little self-sacrifice on my part to see and aid them in the work of separating these precious home ties. I begin to see how it is that parents come to regard children as their own decorations, given for their own selfish comfort. The severe lesson must be learned that they are given to go alone--to leave the parent nest and fly to trees of their own seeking."

I remember both of my kids’ first days of kindergarten as if they were just yesterday.  I cried big as the bus pulled away with my oldest, his brother in my arms crying along with me that he wanted to go too.  I was teary when I dropped off my youngest a few years later, but he was ready. He was ready then and he’s ready now.  I’ve worked at his school either as a volunteer or as a teacher since he was in preschool.  This year will be the first time in his school life that we aren’t just down the hall from each other.  That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?  But he's ready. His look of confidence upon arriving on campus yesterday was reassuring and I know he's going to be fine.

So, yes...tonight, I am a little bit sad.  And yes, I miss him already. And ice cream did help while we were driving home (as it usually does).  But I am not permanently sad.  This is a temporary loss.  A loss of a past, perhaps a loss of the childhood that was.  Knowing that others are dealing with real loss right now probably helps put this transition of sending our youngest off to college into a different kind of perspective.  And what I’m starting to realize is that sending a young  adult to college is really not the end of being a parent, it’s the beginning of being a different kind of parent.  

And tonight, we are no longer "empty nesters in training," we are full on "empty nesters."

Don't Blink

Tomorrow, I run head first into parenting milestone overload, when my older son turns 21 and my younger son graduates from high school. All on the same day.  This comes not all that long after a significant milestone birthday for myself and not that far before a significant wedding anniversary for my husband and me.  This year of milestones has naturally made me more than a little reflective in the past few days, weeks and months. Reflecting on the the things I did right and the mistakes that I’ve made: the ones that could have been avoided and the ones that probably would have happened anyway; the mistakes I regret and the ones I’ve learned the most from.

Being a parent is not an easy job. It’s fraught with your own worries and baggage, along with feeling your kids’ emotions, too:  You celebrate their joys, you cry for their pain and discomfort and you go into full on mama bear protective mode when you need to.  And it’s one job that you really can only learn by doing.  I know this because I have read tons of books, articles and websites about how to be a parent.  It all helped me, for sure, but it was only the real experiences that got us to where we are today.

So where are we today? Well, we’re on the brink of new territory for all of us.  For one, it’s going off to college for the first time and learning how to navigate a new game of school, a new campus, new people, new expectations.  For one, it’s going back to college for his junior year, where work on his major begins in earnest and real adult life is peeking around the corner.  For me (and my husband), it’s getting ready to enter our own new territory.  A territory that has no children in the house (on a regular basis, anyway) and figuring out what that “empty nest” looks like. For all of us, it’s celebrating and enjoying our moments together and developing relationships as parents with adult children, not children children.

When I look back at the last 18 and 21 years, my mind lingers longingly on the little boys that they were: messy, loud, curious, fun, laughing, excited.  Today, they are self composed, confident young men. I am extremely proud of both of my sons.  They are kind and resilient.  They behave with integrity.  They think deeply.  They’re funny. They are loyal,  good people.  The kind of guys I’d want to be friends with if I wasn’t already their mom.  But as we get ready for tomorrow, this day of milestones, I find myself marveling over how we got here.  How did we go from carseats to cars, from Gymboree classes to the last day of high school?  Passage of time is a funny thing. It feels really slow while you’re going through it, but when you get to the other side, it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye.

Happy Birthday, DJ

Congratulations, Ted

Make America Greater Than What?

Our country has a strong history, where our founding fathers fought for freedom from tyranny and developed a system of government seen as a model for other nations around the world.  Our country was founded on grit, determination, greatness: In developing technology, systems, land, people. We have a lot to be proud of as a nation and we should be.

The past 50 years has seen the passing of the Civil Rights Act, more steps toward equality for women, unimaginable technological advances that have helped shrink our world to the point where we can talk face to face with another person halfway around the world in real time, the legality of marriage for same sex couples and many other remarkable things.

And yet...

I have been watching this election cycle, like everyone else, with weary eyes, shocked disbelief and a whole lot of anxiety.   I see people in our country supporting mean spirited, childish candidates who promote policies that marginalize those they have deemed to be "less" than them. They do this with the common refrain,  "Make America Great Again!" or "Take our country back!" 

And this brings me to a question that has been swirling around in my brain for the past few weeks.  Who do you want to take America back from?  Where do you want to bring it?  Make America greater than what?  

Great like when we passed laws to keep the Chinese out, but let some in to help build the Trans Continental Railroad for very little pay?  Great like when the South seceded so they could continue to own slaves?  Great like when Jews were turned away from US shores after having escaped Nazi Germany?  Great like when we tried to keep out other European Immigrants?  Great like when US citizens of Japanese descent were gathered up and put in internment camps?  Great like when there were separate bathrooms for people of color and a little girl had to go to school with police protection because the white people wanted to keep her out? Great like when Matthew Shepard was brutally beaten and killed by fellow Americans because of his sexual orientation?  Great like when women, who were US citizens, protected by the Constitution were denied the right to vote? Great like when women were not guaranteed equal pay for equal work? Oh wait, that last one is happening still. Is this the greatness they miss and want?  

One of my mantras as a mom has always been, "mistakes are wonderful opportunities to learn," meaning okay, you made this mistake...learn from it, move on and don't repeat it.  We have come so far as a country in accepting others and recognizing these mistakes from the past.  But if we repeat these mistakes, have we really improved?  Are we really great? 

You want to make America great?  Here's what you need to do.  Commit to educating ALL children and helping them become thinking members of a thriving democracy.  Help the poor, feed the hungry.  Build infrastructure, keep jobs in our country.  Make sure all have access to quality healthcare.  Contrary to what one of the candidates said in the debate last week, healthcare IS a right and we all have a stake in ensuring that all get the care they need.  No one deserves to die because they can't afford healthcare.  

Deal with immigration in a fair and rational manner. In a student produced documentary on immigration, a local attorney noted that we have a long history of saying now that we're in, let's close the borders and keep everyone else out.  Don't let fear rule decisions regarding international refugee crises and terrorism.  

Fix the mental health crisis and for goodness sakes, do something about the NRA and mass shootings. Give equal rights to all as indicated in the US Constitution, because guess what...someone's sexual orientation has absolutely nothing to do with you.  In fact, for a party that believes in less government, stop trying to govern what women do with their bodies or people do in the privacy of their homes.

Stop worrying about how we've become too "politically correct" and instead think about whether what you are doing or saying about others is kind.  These are the things that would truly make our country great and are the things I would like to see our candidates talking about as we move through the rest of the primary season and into the general election.

Reflections on Turning 50

A random collection of thoughts as I enter the last week of my 40’s…

The Byrds’ “Turn, Turn, Turn” was the number one song the week I was born.

To everything - turn, turn, turn

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time to every purpose under heaven

A time of love, a time of hate

A time of war, a time of peace

A time you may embrace

A time to refrain from embracing

This song holds the distinction of having the oldest lyrics in a #1 pop song, since it comes from Ecclesiastes. "Many biblical scholars believe Ecclesiastes 1:1 implies King Solomon as the book's author; thus, if true, giving Solomon (born c. 1011 BC) lyrical credit for a number one hit.” (thank you, Wikipedia).

I like birthdays.  And numbers.  Not math numbers, but numbers that make interesting patterns or dates.  I have for as long as I can remember. I was in the pool at camp in Key Largo on July 7, 1977 and pointed out to the older kids nearby that it was 7-7-77. They were not nearly as impressed as I. Last year, when my birthday fell on 12-13-14, I turned it into an event.  The last time this century that could happen!  12-13-15 just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it? But it is 50, so it has pretty much been on my mind in some way for much of the past year.  And now, here I am, staring it down.  I can legitimately say, "I'm practically 50, you know!"

1965 was a good year to be born.  Not quite a “baby boomer;” not really a “baby busting Generation Xer,” either. Too young for Woodstock, too old to wear Doc Martins credibly. A Charlie Brown Christmas was born in 1965, as was the Pillsbury Dough Boy.  The Voting Rights Act of 1965 was passed and the Sound of Music movie came out.  The Beatles were in their heyday and, of course,  Vietnam.  Smack dab in the middle of a decade of change.  But aren’t all decades “decades of change,” really? We are a nation and world in turmoil right now, but if you look back through history, almost every era faces turmoil. We just don’t really learn from history, I guess. What does this have to do with turning 50, anyway? Not much...it's a random collection of thoughts, that's all.

My childhood is marked by memories of music and tv shows that some may mock, but that bring me great joy to hear or see: One Tin Soldier, Seasons in the Sun, Beach Baby, Cats in the Cradle (oh, who am I kidding...Billy Don’t Be a Hero and The Night Chicago Died, too).  Happy Days, In the News, Schoolhouse Rock, Land of the Lost (Sigmund & the Sea Monsters!), Scooby Doo, the Bay City Rollers.  Later, the Facts of Life, Different Strokes, the Love Boat and Fantasy Island...but then Grease. And the John Hughes movies. They may not be on the best of anything of the 70’s or 80’s lists, but they shaped a whole group of  girls in some way that makes us kindred spirits.

When I consider turning 50, I instantly think, ‘How can this be? 50 is old.’ And I’m not old. And I do know it really is just a number.  As I have entered each new decade of my adult life, I’ve looked back and thought, “This past decade was the one where I really grew up.”  In my 20’s, I graduated from college, had my radio career and got married, all pretty grown up stuff.  I became a mom in my 30’s, joined playgroups, ladies groups and volunteered at school. Also adult stuff. And so, my 40’s have been no different. I went from being the mom of young boys to being the mom of young men, from time on playgrounds, carpooling to various activities and elementary school performances to high school sports, college applications and being happy to just have both boys sitting around in the living room with us, talking and laughing together.  So, is that it?  Am I finally grown up?

This past 10 years or so have been some of the best of my life so far. I have so much to be grateful for. I'm married to my best friend and have been for half of my life (literally). My sons have grown into kind young men that I am proud to know and am excited to see moving into their next phases. I have my sisters and mom not too far away and available when I need them.  I fell into the job that has led me to stretch and to take risks I didn’t know I wanted to take, to be with people that make me want to be better and do better and that I think value me more than I have ever felt valued in my life.  I have discovered that my body was meant to move in ways that I didn’t know it could and at the same time met a new group of women that I am happy to call friends and have welcomed me into their “tribe.”  Who could want more than that?

50 may be old, but I’m not.  50 may be the new 30, and I’d take that, too!  I think 50 is a halfway point and if I’ve had 50, then I have around 50 more.  That’s a lot of years and a lot of time, right? I’m not sure what my 50’s will bring, aside from an AARP card and an empty nest.  I’ve read that I will stop caring what others think, wear what I want and live life fully. I’d like to think that I will do something grand...something to make my mark. But maybe, being in the place I am...right here, right now...I already am. And if that’s it, then I’ll take that, too.

Bring it, 50.