We finally returned to our history lessons, this Thursday, with three separate maps of the same content.  Each of these maps asked for a different skill.  One was already labeled with the names of the 13 colonies which needed to be divided into the New England Colonies, the Middle Colonies, and the Southern Colonies.  The second needed the colonies color-coded, and the third was without labels altogether.

First up: one of my parents' former preachers eloquently told us how much our dad loved us, how proud he was of his sons and his grandchildren.  Not only did he say that he respected my dad, but he gave valid reasons why.  Years ago, Armando adopted my parents as his own, and in his speech, he made it clear that he respected my dad every bit as much as he respected his.  He spoke of Dad loving the Scriptures, and he mentioned that if you only knew him on Sundays, that you didn't know him personally.  A truer word was probably never said than that.

​​Following the preacher, a secretary and teacher from Mustang High School came to the microphone.  Since retiring from almost 50 years as a quality inspector, Dad enjoyed working as a substitute teacher at the high school, especially in the foreign language department.  Apparently, he would even wear a beret when subbing in French class.  These two ladies told the audience that my dad donated items to the high school when he could find them - goggles to the science department, a golf caddy for the gold team, and other specific items to other classes.  The teacher told us that students would request Mr. Hoggatt as their sub.  She said that even though they didn't always do what she planned, that she knew they were receiving other lessons.  She said it was like their grandpa was subbing.  They heard stories about his children and grandchildren, and she figures they learned received the message that he loved them.  These students would see my dad at the store and run up to him, excited to see him.

Was there anybody else with something to say?  Yes, a couple more.

​My daughter had been sitting in the back in case her anxiety overcame her...but the next thing I knew, she was walking, cane in hand.  If you know our 2020 story, you know that, some time before C19 struck the entire planet and a few months before her dog died, something called Conversion Disorder struck my daughter.  Suddenly, she couldn't walk.  She had seizure-like symptoms and an extremely low heart rate.  She had numbness in her arms and legs.  In short, we thought we were losing her. And here she was, heading up the steps to the podium to talk about her grandpa.  That's when I had my burst of emotion.  My Little Lady spoke about "Pickle" which is what she called him.  She talked about his humility.
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Finally, my mother stood and walked to the mic.  Without a waver, she related their story - how they met, their short courtship, eloping and not telling their parents until later.  She talked about finally telling her parents - how my grandad stormed out of the trailer house and slammed the door, and then about how he returned and sat her down...and proceeded to tell her, "This is how you treat your husband..."  Mom told how her own parents adopted Dad as more than just a son-in-law.  In fact, her mother's last words were "Poor Don".  She ended by changing the words to a song Dad often sang - whether with family on vacations or with the students he saw when substitute teaching - The Poor Old Slave.  She appropriately applied new words to the old song in order to personalize it for us all.

The elder then related the facts about dad - somewhat of an obituary, along with some snippets we had sent to him to capture my his personality and quirks.  We had kept things light-hearted, and I think people appreciated the things we had to share.  He also inserted his own additions to our comments, adding that Dad was without fear when defending Scripture.

Another couple of songs, including Dad's favorite, Home of the Soul, a prayer led by my father-in-law (Dad conducted his wedding a few years ago.), and the family was ready to receive visitors at the front of the auditorium.

Back home, the family shared the meal, provided by the church, and spent the rest of the day together.  Hearing everything that I heard on Monday was humbling to a son, but a source of pride at the same time.  We loved the man, and it was sweet to hear what others thought of him.  To have him recognized as a solid, Christian man, a quiet, yet positive, member of the community, and a happy and satisfied patriarch was refreshing.  He lives on in his two sons, who have each found opportunities to preach, as well as in his grandchildren who are finding strength in his legacy.

We got more familiar with some of the American Indians, last week, when I brought out my portraits of the different tribes for students to observe.  Our theme for the year seems to be Details Are Important, and this activity brought that out yet again.  Each student chose a tribal representative to sketch, with the directive of enlarging the busts and paying attention to the finest wrinkles and shadowing.  ​Some students were surprised at their final products.

Hat tip to Aleah for greeting Assistant Principal Garrett and offering to demonstrate our activity.  She did a phenomenal job of maturely presenting the sketching process and explaining the purpose for it.

I was happy to see a new message my emailbox, this week, from the folks at the Colonial Williamsburg Teacher Institute.  I was selected to attend and participate in the institute during the summer of this past year, but that plan was postponed (along with a gazillion other things) by a little pandemic.  The anticipation of this blessed event had to be extended for another whole year.  I'm glad to see that precautions are now in place for the 2021 teacher institute, but that the plan is to still conduct the event, with slight changes.

The whole thing has been divided so less participants will be on the property at a time, and each participant has been granted a private room without a roommate.

It's after 10pm.
Saturday night.
The rest of the family has gone to bed.
I'm sitting in my parents' living room.
Across the room from a chair.
A chair previously occupied by a man.
My dad.

The 2020 convention of the Missouri State Teachers Association will be held virtually.  The professional development portion of the convention will also be offered.  Because of this, I have been asked to prepare two sessions to reach teachers across our great state.  One of those sessions is entitled The Art Connection.  This session is described like this:

I have discovered something valuable:  that there are two questions that can be used in every subject, every day:  What do you notice? and What do you wonder?  If you want students to infer or predict, ask those two questions.  If you want them to cite the source, ask those two questions.  If you want to find the characters, the setting, and the point of view, ask those two questions.  These questions work for math, reading, writing, social studies, science, religion, fitness, music, and art.  They work on field trips, with guest speakers, and much more. They can be asked of recipes, political cartoons, graphic novels, advertisements, news reports, movies, and all sorts of media.

In this session, we will use these questions specifically of works of art.  A couple of years ago, I attended the teacher institute at Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas.  Combining what I learned at the institute with the concept of academic rigor and my love for early American history, I am looking forward to recording this presentation and making it available to participants online.

We were on the nature trail for some George Washington stories - the first of two events during the French and Indian War that I believe were key turning points for the young, precocious leader (We'll get to the second event, this week.). On our way to the setting for our lesson, the kids spotted two tortoises (in separate locations).

As you might imagine, they were nowhere to be found when we traipsed back through.

I had a couple of hours to kill in Oklahoma City while waiting for my mom to come out of the hospital from attending to my dad, so I took a six-minute drive to the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum.  Much of the museum is western art, most of that from popular 20th-century artists.  I was especially mindful of the presentation of materials.

Outside of the art, there are other galleries that present concepts and artifacts fairly effectively.  Fans of classic western movies will enjoy the artifacts worn and carried on screen by the most famous stars of silver screen and television.  Strangely absent from this or any of the displays was any homage to Will Rogers, though I am fairly confident that he was in there somewhere, and I just missed it.  Walking around the area, I silently prayed behind my mask (required in Oklahoma during COVID19) for my parents and family, thinking about how my dad loves the old westerns and how he grew up watching Roy Rogers and Gene Autry.  If it has a horse and the actors are wearing Stetsons, he'll stop flipping through TV channels every time.

In another gallery, most effectively presented, was a salute to rodeo and all of its events.  Explanation is quite well displayed in the area.  Still another area shows off a small Civil War collection, and another shows all of the parts of a cowboy's outfit, from boots to hats.  Obviously, the is also a section of the museum devoted to Native American accoutrements.

One area of the museum effectively mimics a western main street with businesses on each side.  The electric lights strung from side to side are the only illumination, though out of theme, but give the sense that a visitor is coming into town during the evening hours.  Most of the businesses are closed, but offer period-appropriate settings inside the windows - a livery stable, a saloon, a general store, a newspaper printing office, and of course, a vintage photo booth.  A little church building and a school room round out the area.

Through the doors to outside were some intriguing reproductions to explore - a nod to Native American peoples of the west (though grossly incomplete).  A large cliff dwelling, just opened this year, towers over visitors, but is lacking much of the real features of the dwellings one sees at Mesa Verde in Colorado.  Absent also is much interpretation for the area, and I suspect it is more simply to pique the interest of school children who visit on field trips.  The weather was perfect for leisurely strolling through various Indian dwellings, and I enjoyed the attractive landscaping and outdoor statuary.

Rounding out the two or three hours that I was on the grounds, I observed the larger than life statuary on display - the Buffalo Bill that stands out on the hillside and towers over the interstate, and (back inside) the Abraham Lincoln plaster and the End of the Trail sculpture, both created by the same artist.

I knew I needed to get back to my parents' house to meet with Mom once she returned from the hospital.  That called for a brisk walk to the parking lot and a drive across traffic-infested highways and streets (Emergency vehicles and car accidents were the order of the day.), all the way to the other side of the city.

There is not much in this museum that addresses the era we study, but there are a few depictions of Lewis and Clark, as well as some artwork that shows mountain men and explorers in the west.  I also spotted at least two depictions of George Washington (Can you find them in the pictures above?).  There were some older scenes on the walls, displaying images of Spanish explorers and pioneers in Texas and New Mexico.  Still, I was glad to get away and be alone for a short time to experience some quiet contemplation.

How do you deal with stress and worry?  I could tell you I pray, and I do.  I could tell you that I seek to be with family, and I do.  But I could also declare that I desire some time alone.  All of these, I did earlier this week.

My dad - one of the few people I've known my whole life - has never had major health issues until this year, when we discovered that, at the age of 78, he has transitional cell carcinoma on the lining of his bladder.  Once in the hospital to treat the then-undiagnosed problem, doctors also discovered that he had double pneumonia.

My mother, married to Dad for almost 58 years, was the only person allowed to visit him in his hospital room, but I knew that she was alone in the house.  After preaching in Grove, Oklahoma, on Sunday, I headed toward Oklahoma City to see her.  My brother lives a half-hour away, so he is able to look in on her and help her if she needs a little extra support, but I knew she needed both of her sons around her in a very trying time.

Dad's situation was serious.  Doctors were doing everything they could live of doing, but they were not able to stop the bleeding, and the pneumonia was limiting their ability to do very much of anything for a long period of time.  He underwent a couple of invasive procedures, but was soon placed in the Intensive Care Unit on a ventilator.

The museum is closed on Mondays, so I was unable to go inside, but there were some impressive examples of aircraft, big guns, and ground vehicles in the outdoor display.

When I designed the new t-shirts for Cecil Floyd students and staff, I did so with the past and the present in mind. On the front is the original image of our school building, taken from the dedication program on August 25, 1985 (35 years ago).  With the input of others, an extra slogan was added:  35 years as our home away from home​.

The back has another nod to the legacy (past) and the vision (future) of our school, along with the hip branding, CeFlo35.  The shirts look like no others in the school district, and reflect a unique school in southwest Missouri.

Our observations of minerals were a bit more extensive than our observations of rocks. Students drew their 12 mineral samples and then tested and recorded the feel, smell, streak color, luster, light, magnetism, hardness, and cleavage of each, as well.

The tools of the geological trade included streak plates, nails, pennies, an electric light, a magnet, a hand lens, fingernails, and the human senses of sight, smell, and feel.  Each pupil was also issued a glove to handle one of the minerals - galena (which includes traces of lead).

It's your turn to warn people.  What would you say next year's class needs to know?  What can you tell them about what they will learn and how they will learn it?  Write a letter to them.  Make a poster displaying your message.

I am currently putting together two presentations for the virtual state convention of the Missouri State Teachers Association.  Entitled Using Real Stuff, the first presentation is a pretty extensive look at historical thinking, and the essential question driving the presentation asks, "Is historical thinking the same as reading comprehension?"  The session description follows:

I intend, in this session, to give participant-teachers some paper tools (and explanation) that can be used in their classrooms, at any grade level, immediately.  I want to inspire teachers to cross areas of curricula, to encourage writing, and spawn critical thinking within their students.

The session will focus on some organizers to help students collect their thoughts in a systematic fashion.  Teachers at every level will find something worthy of their attention.  I've collected some slick little acronyms  that can help students understand how to interpret maps, charts, graphs, photographs, posters, large historical events, audio sound bites, political cartoons, and more.  Comprehension skills will improve when a teacher adopts the concepts presented in this session during the virtual state convention of the MSTA.