Homeschooling Tips 101 - Corona virus update

During  this time of uncertainty in the world, with schools closed and parents at home with their children, it reminded me of the days I home-schooled my children in the 70s and 80s.  I thought maybe I could share some things that worked for me and could be helpful for others.

As you can see in the pictures, I started off teaching my children in the mid 70s when we were living overseas.  Then as the children got older in the 80s, other children from the international community were added to my classroom.

@1976 Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

It was fun for me and I found out I actually learned more from teaching the children than I had learned during my own school days.  My spelling improved, my understanding of sentence structure, my reading, etc.  Math, however, was always a challenge.

I was not a trained teacher and I learned as I went.  Here are a few things to consider for all you parents who suddenly have your children to teach.

1) - I found it helped to have a separate room available for teaching.  If that wasn't an option, then I would try and avoid the kitchen table.  Even a small work area set aside in the living room or bedroom for example.  When the children were small, school area was off limits except when school was in session.  This helped the children from thinking we were just at home, which made it hard to differentiate between playtime and school time.

2) - Math is not my expertise and I really do get math anxiety.  However, I found that the Montessori method of teaching math was so easy and realistic and made sense.  If you have a similar problem, I would recommend checking into it.  The main thing is we want our children to be able to function in all ways in society.  We just have to do what we know best and get the instruction to them.

3)  - My mother was the expert at making everything in life some sort of educational lesson. I learned a lot from her in that regard.  Because of her example, everything we did was always a teachable moment and something that could be incorporated into our school work.  Math was more exciting when you did fractions while baking a cake.  Learning about insects and bugs in the garden is a biologists dream.  I hated history in school but when it became relatable to me I found that I really did love history and it could have very well been one of  my favorite subjects.

4) - Find out what your child or children's strengths and interests are and emphasize that with them.  This is an opportunity they might not have in a traditional school.  For example, my oldest child was fascinated with different countries and where they are in the world.  I put up a world map in the hallway and every time he passed the map he would look at the capitals of the different countries and memorize them.  He ended up graduating with a degree in geography and to this day he can still tell you the capital of every country.

5) - I know parents are afraid of too much screen time, but try giving them things to do online that are education related and let them feel they are getting the screen time they think they are missing.  In this day and age, this is actually a blessing and can free up your time to help another child while the other ones are working on projects online.

6) - In those days, we didn't have much and we certainly didn't have the internet.  And TV was almost non existent so reading was the best form of entertainment.  I can't emphasize enough how important reading is.  Don't let the internet replace reading.  We always had quiet time in our home and everyone was expected to rest, and if not wanting to nap, they could read.  Even the older ones.

7) - Games.  Don't forget games and puzzles.  Games like scrabble are excellent for brain activity and learning language.

I'm sure most of these are already known factors, but sometimes hearing it from someone else is helpful.  Especially when this was so unexpected and took us all by surprise.  Of course, everyone is different and so is every child.  Some of these may not work for you, some of them might.  I hope some of it is helpful and that everyone stays healthy.

Thailand @1985

Visiting New Found Cousins in Turkey and France - Part 1

I finally made it to Europe.  One more thing off my bucket list.

It had to happen, it was going to happen, I made it happen.  I wanted to see my mother's birthplace and follow her path of immigration to the United States.  I wanted to meet relatives I had never met before.  And I did.  I was not able to follow her true path, that would have taken months, but I did manage to go to two countries.

Relations between Turkey and the United States had been on edge and visas to Turkey were on hold.  Then one day I read that they had resolved their differences and opened up visas.  I went full speed ahead and ordered a ticket to Istanbul, Ankara, back to Istanbul and then to France.

With new found cousins, Seljuck, Tayfun, and daughter Windy

It was April, the end of winter and beginning of spring.  My daughter, Windy, decided I shouldn't go alone so she met me in Istanbul.
When I got off the plane, Windy was there with our new cousins, Tayfun and Seljuck.  This was the first time any of us met.  They were the nicest people.  They took us to dinner, showed us around the area including St. Sophia and the Blue Mosque.  The next day they took us to the airport where we were to catch a domestic flight to Ankara.  I was so excited because we were traveling on a suspension bridge over the Bosporus and one of the wonders of the world - a city divided between two continents.  Europe and Asia.

Seljuck and Tayfun kindly stopped so we could relish the moment, naturally buying us Turkish coffee to warm us up since winter was still in the air.  And wherever you went, someone was selling coffee.  No Starbucks to be seen.

Make-shift "carnival" attraction 

 I was flying high and just couldn't get enough of all the sights and smells and meeting new cousins.  We would remark about our similar features that we were sure we shared with our respective grandmothers who were sisters.  Can you see the resemblance?  The instant bond we formed through our blood relations was amazing.

There was a Kurdish man who set up his own
 make-shift attraction of shooting balloons with a BB gun.  Not sure if there was a prize, but I was happy to help and pay him the small fee to participate.  The conditions were quite windy but I managed to pop one balloon.  Mom 1 to 3, Windy 0 to 3

We arrived that evening on a small commuter plane in Ankara.  There was a lot of turbulence with a storm brewing. The pilot had a hard time and had to make three passes circling the airport before finally landing.  We all let out a collective sigh of relief and gave the crew a round of applause.

This is just the first part of a very fast, whirlwind trip visiting relatives I had never met before and my parents and grandparents homeland.  I wish I had given myself more time but I thought I needed to get back to work so I kept it short, unfortunately, which means I will have to go back.

What is Christmas about?

What do you think about when you think of Christmas?

Do you think of family?  Gifts?  Christmas lights?  Parties?

The birth of Jesus, of course

And don’t forget the less fortunate.

By the way, can someone give me a ride to the mall?  I’ve got that last minute shopping to do.

How will I pay for my trip back home?

I wish I could be back home.

Don’t forget to donate to the soup line

How will I pay for all these Christmas gifts?

Should I send Christmas cards this year?  Does anyone care?

So many thoughts, so much stress.

Christmas was always so important to me.  Besides all that, it is a fun time and it is a time when people do think about others, if even for a short time.  It’s a good reminder. 

It’s too often true that we will open our presents and not be happy with whatever gift we have been given.  We get depressed and despondent over our gifts, forgetting already about our reminder.

Christmas is a reminder what Jesus was all about.  He came into this world and changed so many things.  He threw out the old laws and brought in new, which over time have been forgotten or rewritten and Christmas gives us that chance to pause.  To remember that Jesus’ main purpose was to come and bring forgiveness.  Up and to that time the laws were very harsh on any offender and one had to work their way to be next to God or find nirvana in whatever culture or religion one subscribed to.

Let’s be reminded that it was Jesus that stopped the woman from being stoned to death.  Whoever is without sin can cast the first stone, he told the crowd, and saved the woman’s life.  He threw out the law and the prophets and brought in grace and mercy.

Let’s be reminded to be graceful and merciful to our family and our friends.

My Christmas table was always open. I wonder if anyone remembers.  If someone was without a family to have dinner with, they could come to my table, it didn’t matter that we were poor and already had so many mouths to feed.  But that was a long time ago.  I try and remember those happy times.

Don't Forget Nature

A few deer in the foreground

My job at an RV resort in the higher elevations of the Sierra National Forest gives me an opportunity I’ve always dreamed of.  I get to work where I love to live.

As I stroll through the forest on my way to my neighbor’s space, I hear the forest floor crunching beneath my feet; the pine needles, broken down granite, soft dirt.  The only thing I hear besides my own footfalls is the wind blowing through the pine trees.  I stop to take in the quiet and the sounds of nature.

While I’m listening to this solitude, a little lizard scampers away.  The crisp air and cool breeze brightens my cheeks with a rosy hue.  My appreciation heightens and I am rewarded with a herd of deer meandering through the forest ahead of me.  I watch them in awe and they cautiously watch me.

I wish everyone could share this experience.   Our cities and concrete play yards are stifling and claustrophobic for me.  I need to see the open sky and be surrounded by mountain peaks.  May everyone enjoy this experience, at least a few times in their lives.  Better yet, make it a habit; it will do your psyche good.

My daughter - enjoying the great outdoors

My Cousin Harry Meneshian

Young Harry Meneshian

A good study of Harry

I want to tell the story of my dear cousin, Harry Meneshian.  Harry passed away on August 31, 2017, after an unfortunate illness.

Harry came into our lives when my grandmother (his aunt) sponsored him to immigrate to the U.S. from Jerusalem where he was born.

It was unusual then for a 17 yr old student from Jerusalem to arrive in the U.S. to study so our local newspaper, The Fresno Bee, did an article on him dated 1957.

There were a few bumps in the road, but Harry acclimated to life in the United States.  He eventually went to the Los Angeles area where he married the love of his life, Maggie, and together they had two children.

I saw Harry on and off through the years, but the most important time was when I decided to do my family history after my mother had passed away in 1999.  I had so many unanswered questions and kicked myself for not paying attention or asking more questions when my mother was still alive.  She had tried so hard to have her families' histories written down and recorded.

Harry found out about my interest so he provided me with a family tree of the Meneshian side of our family.  That was like gold in my hands, I was so thankful.  After that, I proceeded to ask his help translating letters and notes that I found in my mother's things.

It turns out Harry spoke not only Armenian, but the nearly outdated language of Ottoman Turkish which Armenians in Turkey used but wrote in Armenian characters.  If Harry hadn't been the willing participant to translate these old documents and letters, I wouldn't know 80 percent of what I know now.  For that I will be forever thankful and grateful.

We had fun working on this history and uncovering things as we went along. It was like being in a gold mine and uncovering one nugget at a time.  Each nugget became a cause for celebration.

Harry was the nicest person that I have come to know.  I will miss him and his joyful and happy attitude that permeated his whole life.  I am sad to lose my history compatriot, but I know he is in a happy place where he belongs and I'm sure he and my mother are exchanging stories even right now.

Visiting Harry in 2006.  L-R Avedis and Anahid Titoian (Harry's sister and her husband), me, Maggie and Harry, my two daughters, Windy and Katrina.

Harry - I will see you soon enough.  Until then...

I Cannot be Discouraged - a Life Project

In June of 1997 I went to meet an Armenian author named Peter Balakian. He had a new book out and it was interesting to me so I went to the book signing. Although that was 20 years ago I still remember that day as if it happened yesterday.  I listened to Mr. Balakian's talk and then politely stood in line so I could get my book signed.  I had no idea that years later Mr. Balakian would be a Pulitzer Prize winner:  See:  Balakian wins Pulitzer Prize in 2016

When I reached the table and opened my book, Mr. Balakian looked at me with penetrating brown eyes that told a world of history and said, "Please help me tell our story."  Well, it wasn't exactly verbatim but something to that effect. I remember thinking, "What can I do? I'm just one person with not much going for me. No money, no talent, not even a winning personality."  I smiled meekly and kind of croaked out, "I'll do what I can."  Thinking all the while, "sure, sure."

Two years later my mother, who was my strongest link to my Armenian roots, passed away.  That generation of Armenians who had braved so much and lost so much until they made it to the new world, were dying away.  Peter Balakian's book, "Black Dog of Fate, a Memoir" was so much like my life as an Armenian American growing up in the new world of America.  I heard the stories, I saw the tears and every single family had them.  No way were any of us unique to that pain.  A whole culture was nearly wiped out in a few short years.  If Aleppo, Syria had not been there and protected the fleeing Armenians, it would have been even more devastating.

Mr. Balakian expounds in his book about his awakening as an Armenian American to his ancestral roots and the rich history that we possess.  Since he is my age, I related to everything he said.  I carry the book around with  me and treasure that I met such a great writer who so easily put my thoughts into words.

But I never forgot that penetrating look and those words.  I knew I was supposed to do something but I had no idea what.  Once my mother passed away it became my duty to sift through her trash and treasure, as she so aptly called it, and either throw things away or part things out.  I was to find in her things and in her scatterbrained later years in life, that she had on and off tried desperately to put down in a story the events of her and her parents' life in Eastern Turkey (or as the Armenians like to say, Western Armenia) before, during and after the genocide.  I found bits of paper, writings here and there, scribbled notes, pictures - so many pictures - with Armenian script and Ottoman Turkish that I had no idea what was said or who the people were.

I felt ashamed, why didn't I know who these people were?  Why didn't I know these stories?  I was so absorbed in my life and my own problems I had completely neglected my mother and her efforts.  I felt like an ashamed daughter.  I decided I would make up for that wayward daughter and make amends to my mother and be a good daughter.  And that began the assembling of my ancestral family tree and my families' collective stories of their journey from the old country to the new.  I hoped that my mother would be proud of me and that Mr. Balakian would feel I was being some kind of a help.

It is a massive undertaking because there is so much to know and so much to find out on all sides of my family tree.  Thankfully, my cousin who was born in Jerusalem and knew three languages (at least), translated so many letters for me.

 I have written some of the stories here on this blog, but there is so much more.  But to complicate things, all records of Armenians or any records in Turkey have been destroyed or locked away.  I can only find out what was either written down or remembered by some ancient soul.  I am forever thankful that my mother wrote down everything she could and what was told to her by her own parents.

My mother (in green) in 1967 Baghdad visiting relatives on her middle east tour.

Because of these efforts I have reconnected with several families that had been lost through time and it has been amazing.  I have found our relatives from my paternal grandmother's sister who was married at 9 years old to a Turkish man after her parents were killed.  That family has even visited us here in the US and I plan to visit them.  The pain that we all feel of what happened during that time is with us, but the bonds we have because of it bring closure.

Bardakjian brothers - godparents to little Azadohi and Krikor

Another family sheltered my grandmother and my mother in Syria while my grandfather was in the Turkish army and then later in France after they fled their hometown of Aintab, Turkey, and became my mother and uncle's godparents while my grandfather came to the States to pave the way for his family.  Through my efforts I reconnected with their offspring who are scattered between Syria and France.  I plan to visit them too.  I owe them that. I owe them for sheltering my mother and my grandparents, for taking care of them in France until they got on that boat for that long ride to America.  They need that gratefulness and recognition.

Another family that helped my mother and grandmother is still missing.  Kevork found my grandmother alone in a cemetery after she had traveled from her home to Syria looking for his house.  They took her in and cared for her.  That link is missing - I hope they survived and one day I can find them.

The Guleserians in Syria - sitting L-R - Kevork Guleserian and his mother, Zoomroot.  Kevork's father died in battle. Next to them is my grandmother, Helen (Hripseme) and my grandfather, Armen. My grandfather escaped from the Turkish army after friends warned him that orders had come out for all Armenians to be killed.  Next to him is Stephen Khidishahian (his brother in law) and laying on the floor, his son, Rueben.  Back row Florenza, possibly married to Kevork Guleserian, then his sister Areknaz.  And the last gentleman is named Arshavir.

I have been unable to locate the members of these families. Maybe I never will, but I want it to be forever written down of their kindness and heroic efforts in saving my family.

Lately I have felt discouraged and ready to quit.  I write this memoir here to remind me why I started this project and not to give up in spite of the nay saying of other people or the meddling of those who cannot see the beauty in remembering and recording this history.  Whose petty differences blind them from seeing the full picture.

I hope I have made my mother proud and she is smiling down on me from her perch in the other world.  I hope Mr. Balakian's penetrating stare will twitch just a little with a twinkle in recognition of some accomplishments at least.  Because of them, I will persevere and plod again.  Because of them, I cannot quit.

My Mother - A Tribute

I'm the baby - with my mother, sister and brother

Happy Mother's Day 2017

As I reflect on this annual event and remember my mother, I think that many of us do not appreciate our mothers enough until we are older and have children of our own.  Then all of a sudden we are so thankful they put up with us the way they did.

We start to remember all the little things they did to make our lives so special, to keep us safe, to teach us all they could in order for us to enter into life well informed, steady on our feet, and ready for whatever life would throw at us.

There are so many things my mother did for us children that have affected us to to this day that I can only be in awe and thankful that she took so much time out of her busy day to spend with us, tutor us, discipline us, take us on field trips, and basically dote on us.

My mother used every opportunity as a teaching moment.  We had all kinds of animals including dogs, cats, birds, hamsters and chickens.  These were learning experiences she said.  Our hamster was pregnant and due to give birth. This was an exciting event, she said.  We were all waiting for this blessed event.  When that moment arrived my mother yelled for us to come and watch.  As fate would have it, I was in the bathroom and missed the whole thing. Boy, was I disappointed.

One day she told us she was going to teach us about the birds and the bees.  I was so excited.  I had heard about this when adults talked and made jokes about it. I couldn't wait. I was finally going to find out what the birds and the bees was all about.  As we all sat down on the couch with her, she opened up a book that was literally about the birds and the bees. Really?  I was disappointed but as she read about life my interest grew by leaps and bounds.

With my cousins at the turkey farm

So much of our time was spent going places and doing things.  She organized field trips so that we would see the country.

We went to turkey farms, we took the train, we went to a farm to ride a tractor and we always, always went to the Fresno Zoo.

Honeymoon Pool Dinky Creek

Every summer we spent two weeks at Camp Fresno in Dinkey Creek experiencing our mountain getaway.  It was my favorite vacation.

Once my brother saw a trout in the creek so he threw a rock at it and caught it. We ran back to the camp yelling, "Mom, Mom, Johnny caught a fish."  She promptly cleaned the fish, coated it in butter and lemon, wrapped it in aluminum foil and grilled it right there.  That was the best fish I  had ever eaten.

On the tractor

Feeding Nosy the elephant at the zoo

As I got older I did not appreciate my mother like I should have.  Why, I don't really know. But when I came back to her side with children of my own, she was once again my bulwark and my anchor.  Whatever I did in life, whatever mistakes I made, whatever silly and foolish choices I made, she never gave up on me.  She stepped in and took up the mantle when I needed help after a recent divorce.  My children benefited greatly because of her efforts.  I will forever be indebted.

RIP my sweet mother.  You left us richer and with memories we cherish and will never forget.  Until we meet again.