Chapter 12 - All Things Green

Last week, I attended the Green Industry Show and Conference in Edmonton. You might ask yourself, “What is a CAD/survey/GPS instructor was doing at a Hort conference?” particularly after a colleague of mine made a bold statement recently that “’jerk of all trades, master of none’ is NOT a compliment!” (but that is the topic of a whole other blog soon to come!)

Well, to answer your question, I was there to start yet another chapter in my forever-changing life. This conference was for industry owners and managers, not the general public, so it was a nice mix of techy stuff and marketing stuff and personal growth/management stuff.

I was amazed at what the industry, with a very small budget, is doing with research projects. Being from Saskatchewan, I place a high priority on trees, (I always thought the Caragana was a big tree) so I hope that Olds college will join up as a partner on the new prairie tree trials that started this year. (hint, hint)

I was interested in the talk on the marketing challenges facing market garden centers. They have lost a huge slice of the market to the big box stores (interesting, then, that a large part of the whole conference was sponsored by Rona). I was pleased that the speaker did not digress into a pity spiral but chose to focus on the niche his store can fill. He provided an excellent focus on what true service is, and I agreed with his comment that people will pay more if you truly provide them with great service.

For me, the most interesting—or perhaps scary—sessions were on personal management and personal health. These sessions were applicable to anyone but were a big part of this conference because many of the attendees were small business owners. The session on health just reconfirmed that I am fat, I eat badly, I exercise too little and have increased my chances of dying from all the major killers of my age bracket except PMS (you had to be there). The truly enlightening session for me, though, centered on stress and measuring its effect on you. You will be happy to know that when I completed the self diagnostic test, it indicated that I am completely stress-free—mostly because you attended my funeral three years ago! Perhaps I misunderstood a question or two?

At any rate, I learned a lot, and I spent some time in the Olds College booth, meeting people and answering questions. I spent some time with my new colleagues, getting to know them better. And I got a shrub out of the deal; what more could a guy ask for?

P.S. I also fulfilled a lifelong dream to fly an airplane in a hotel room. I am aware that this is not the dream most men want fulfilled in a hotel room, but I am different—and I am OK with that!!

Cookies

I would never think to buy a cookie. In fact, if you asked me, I would say I don't particularly like cookies, but when offered one, I can't ever remember saying, "no.” I have come to the conclusion that it is not the cookie itself I like, but the fact that someone gave me the cookie. That is what makes me feel good. Why? I have fond memories connected to cookies. My mother and I would often make cookies—just she and I—though I was never good at spooning them out onto the baking sheets. Sometimes she make them herself and have them just coming out of the oven at the time I got home from school, so perhaps I have a connection with cookies and freedom?
A couple of cookie incidences have occurred this month that started me thinking about this. Two days after a particularly stressful meeting, I was alerted to the presence of a package in my mail box. Because I was not expecting anything important, I neglected to check my box on my way out that evening. Early the next morning, however, after a particularly bad nights’ sleep, I discovered the wonderful package in my mailbox—four homemade cookies! No note, no name attached—just these great cookies. It was the perfect way to start my day, and my students truly appreciated it, too, because my jokes were better (or at least more frequent), my demos were far more lively. Perhaps it was all explainable scientifically with blood sugar spikes and chocolate euphoria, but I prefer to think that the good mood was caused by the conjuring up of warm memories of better times. True to my conclusion, it was not the cookies I appreciated most—delicious though they were—but the kind, friendly gesture. It was not the first time that cookies had appeared, and I was finally able to confirm my suspicions of their origins; I wholeheartedly thank the baker.

It has occurred to me that I may not be alone in this reaction to cookies, but times are changing and may be leading to some variations on the theme. Making cookies is not a time consuming process, but the baking of cookies is. A mother I know still takes the time to make cookies with her children—something for which she should be commended, in my opinion—but with her very busy life, more cookies get made than baked. On more than one occasion this month, she has confessed to eating cookie dough! At the time I chalked this up to her having no chips in the house or no time to make popcorn, but, upon reflection, I believe that it might be the new time-pressured adaptation of an old mood-lifting technique. We all need someone in our lives to give us cookies when we need them. Let me challenge you to make cookies for a friend in need—or at least buy the homemade looking cookies from the store and repackage them! Let’s strive to create a world where no one has to eat cookie dough!

(Until next week, keep the cookies coming to keep the ravings positive.)

Learning to Crawl

I spent much of Remembrance Day watching my two grandsons—3 years and 8 months. Most interesting to me was watching my youngest grandson try to crawl. He has rolling down pat. As a matter of fact, he figured out how to roll his way over and out of the barricade set up to contain him in the living room. His mother and I just watched in amazement, and then his mother retrieved him. But crawl? As much as he tried—desperately tried, many times—he just can’t do it…yet.

So, why is he so driven to learn to crawl? Movement is important to get what you need and what you want. (At 8 months old, he is already striving for what he wants—for him this is mostly whatever his brother has—and not only what he needs.) But, it is not just movement he craves—he has that—but rather more efficient movement. He is seeking to improve upon the skills he already has. Why? It seems that the desire to learn is not just driven by our needs; there must be a hard-wired component to it, as well. I am sure there are many Ph.D. dissertations on this topic, but I am almost positive that he has not read any of them. He doesn’t know why he wants to, he just does.

The whys might still be a mystery, but it is fascinating to watch him try to learn so desperately. At 8 months old, his motivation to learn is mostly internal, I suspect; I hope he is not worrying about meeting his grandpa’s expectations just yet. Watching him made me think about the last time I worked that hard at learning something and what so motivated me. And it made me think about my students and how they look at learning.

I have always said that I cannot teach anyone anything, but I can give them good reasons to want to learn. What I mean by that is that, as a teacher, I try to stimulate that hard-wired part of each student that creates the desire to learn. I have seen that same determined drive that I see in my grandson in some students when they try to solve a problem or complete a task. They, too, possess that same desperate need to “do well” or to “be successful.” Problem is, of course, I don’t see it often enough.

Stimulating a student to be motivated is ¾ of my job; the other 1/4 is helping them acquire strategies and techniques. If I can create in them the desire to learn and if I can teach them how to learn to learn, then I know I’ve given them a life skill that goes way past any memorization of facts or information. After all, information today is free or cheap. Wanting to learn and knowing how to do it is far more important.

How I wish I had that single-minded drive to learn new things that I see in young children! Perhaps we would be better off if, instead of always looking ahead, we could look back in our own lives and remember what it was that motivated us so.

Collaborating All By Myself!

I love to work in a collaborative environment—especially if I do it on my own! This is most easily achieved if the tools for collaboration are difficult to access or, better yet, nonexistent. I can be very productive in this type of environment because no one bothers me with input or other points of view.

I once read that IQ is the measure of an individual’s ability to adapt to a new environment, and my experience bears that definition out. As I’ve travelled all over the world, I have seen that those who are most intelligent will maximize whatever environment they are in. They know intuitively that our environment is what we experience it to be, not what we are told it is, and so they also know that they have the ability to change it.
Why does it matter what kind of environment we have? I’ve learned that if I, as a teacher, change the learning environment in my class, students may change the way they learn. If I create an environment valuing rote learning—where memorizing is all that is required and is rewarded with success—then most students will only invest themselves in practicing the given recitation. If I create a learning environment—where students have to collaborate and problem solve to be successful—then those students can invest themselves in the more useful skills of being creative, cooperative and resourceful. Every year I get at least one “smart” student who does not want to work with others. The frustration level for that student rises very quickly when they see their less “academic” classmates out-achieve them because they find solutions collaboratively. By nature, I am not all that collaborative. I work on my own in the classroom. I develop learning materials often in isolation. But I have learned that, through collaboration, I can be much more effective and certainly a much better teacher. I thank Murray T. for patiently mentoring me to work with someone whose strengths cover my weaknesses—a lesson I learned as he and I collaborated, which in turn was only possible when our environment leant itself to partnership: I was accidentally placed in the office next to Murray. Our offices are no longer together, and accordingly our collaboration has been significantly reduced.

Create the environment for collaboration and teachers, instructors, community members, students and staff MAY work together. Do not create the conditions conducive for collaboration and the rebels will often find a way (perhaps out of spite!)