The Diaperbag family.

We are the Diaperbag family. There are Jordan, Evan and Dylan (also known as Muffin) and they are fondly known as JED. We are their parents. Ondine and Packrat.

This is JED

Always playing or planning and plotting to take over the world. Always up to shenanigans.

This is Jordan, our first born

Actually she's part of a twin set. She was known as Twin 1 in-utero. She loves to draw what she dreams, dances what she draws.

This is Evan, reluctantly the younger twin

He's Twin 2 by two minutes because it took the doctor that long to find him. We don't think he'll ever forgive the doctor!

This is our youngest, Dylan (also known as Muffin)

He fancies himself the Lion King. His favourite activities are to climb, jump, pounce and roar at the world. The world is his Pride Rock.

Showing posts with label alma mater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alma mater. Show all posts

Monday, March 30, 2015

Service and Sharing

When I volunteered to get Jordan into school, I brought JED on occasion. When that extended to an island wide search for crickets and they asked why volunteering meant I had to do so much, I explained the difference between just finishing my job of volunteering at school and serving the school. I explained that service meant helping others without really expecting anything in return and that while I had volunteered to help the school to get Jordan in, I didn't expect that my going out to buy crickets every two days was going to give me an extra or better chance of getting her in.

I didn't think they heard or understood me but towards the end of last year, Jordan came and asked me if she could serve at her kindy. Her reason was that if Mommy could serve, so could she. When I asked what she wanted to do, she said she wanted to read to the children or help them at art or something. When I asked her if she expected to get paid, she said no. She emphasised that she wanted to go back and just serve.

The trick was trying to find something she could do and not make more work for the teachers. There was also the problem of trying to figure out when she could go what with her own school and crazy schedule.

It's taken us all these months to find a slot and something for her to do. Eventually, we did; something totally up her alley.

On the last day of the term, she returned to her kindy to share with the K2 children how she wrote stories. They were about to embark on a book project in the next term and she had done one when she was their age. She brought in her manuscript as well as the eventual book that got published and like a visiting dignitary, went to each of the classes.

The teachers like me didn't know what to expect so we had to wing it. She went in with her bestie from the same kindy, Chloe. We introduced them and got her to read her story to them and ask questions. She was noticeably nervous and she couldn't make her voice louder. By the end of the first reading, she was audible from the back but still tentative. To make things better, we got her a mike that she could strap around her and that changed everything for her. The performer in her stepped forward.

Even though she claimed that she was still nervous, she read her story with a song sing lilt and answered the questions clearly. All this was done in utter seriousness.




By the second class, she had her schtick down pat.

First she would introduce herself as would Chloe. She would tell them what she was going to do and then she would do it. She would read her published version while Chloe flashed the identical pages from the manuscript. After that, she would take questions. The teachers and I felt like we were staffing her, telling her where to go and picking out the questions she would address.



This is a sampling of the questions she took.

1. How do you write stories?

A: I have to think very carefully. I use the pictures I have drawn to make stories. Sometimes I add in actions to make the story more interesting. 

2. What is the most important thing on the cover of the book? 

A: The title.

3. How long do you take to write a story?

A: This book that I read took me one week to write. But sometimes I write them in one hour. Or sometimes, ten minutes. (See more about this exchange below)

4. What steps did you go through before the book was finished?

i..  I draw the pictures then I coloured them with crayons and drew the outline with marker.

ii. Then I told Auntie C (her teacher) the story and she typed it out.

iii. I cut out the text and stuck them to the pictures.

iv. Then they got printed and they stapled the book in the middle twice. (She was very obsessed with the stapler and the book being stapled. She went on to explain how to use a stapler.)

5. Why did you write about butterflies? (Her story was The Butterfly Trip)

A: Because I could draw butterflies very well.





Listening to her, we came to the unanimous conclusion that she looked and played the part of the writer pretty convincingly. Quirky clothes and accessories.

On top of that, she seemed to have a knack of facilitating the questions, getting the children to answer questions just like they asked her. No surprise for a child born of two teachers, she had all the teacher mannerisms down; stopping mid sentence when the children spoke over her and giving them a look, shushing them, ending questions with a finger flourish to indicate that it was for children to respond.

Funny things she asked or said to the children.

1. The question was which Starlight (K2) class was she from. Her answer was "I was from..... (insert drumroll) Starlight 4..... + 4! And WHAT'S that?" (pointing at the children)

2. Each time she read the book, she added a little bit extra into it, ad-libbing as she went along.

3. When explaining the back page which was the 'About the Author' page, she pointed to her signature and delivered a public service announcement.

" This is my signature. It's curly and it's special because I am the only one who can sign it. If you copy my signature when you are an adult, you can go to jail! That is called forging!"

4. When asked how long she took to write the book, she tossed the question back to the children with

"You guess how long?"

"1 second!" was the response.

"How can that be possible? 1 second is like you counting 'one!'"  she countered.


5. She pointed to the photograph of her at the back of her book. "This is me. 2 years ago! Like you, now!"

She was on a high after that. She smiled and waved and promised to come back.


When I asked her what was her favourite moment, she said she didn't know because she just loved being back at kindy and hoping that what she said would help them write better stories.

Some days, it's easy to forget that she's not yet 8.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

School Pride

JED Packs brought me back to my alma mater yesterday. I didn't have an easy time there. I wasn't well liked because I spoke English in a school that primarily didn't, when I was there; that made me seem high and mighty and snobby!  (I am told it has changed in the last 20 years). Anyway, I didn't have the easiest time when I was there but at the same time, I also made friends with people that I still consider my best friends today. And the twenty years has put a great amount of space and time between the ill-feelings and myself.

Even then, I did not expect to feel nostalgia and pride for the days that I spent within the confines of the school. In my mind, I've always understood why Packrat and even his brother see it as a given that Evan and Muffin will follow in their footsteps and go to their alma mater. But today, I truly thought what pride I would feel if Jordan went to my alma mater. I had never thought about it before because I always considered all the schools that I had gone to, just schools and nothing more. I knew I wanted her to go to a good school where it would bring out the best in her. But I never consciously thought about how it had to be my own school.

In fact, my parent volunteering adventures came about because of my reluctance to send her to the same school I went to primary school. But it does seem that when I think about secondary school, perhaps because I had to grow up so much there, I feel different.

I tried to explain it to Packrat last night. There are still things that impress me about the school and many of those things are intangible. It's not so much about results, in fact not at all. It is more about seeing the girls help each other and encourage each other while studying for their big exam that begins next week. It's about manners, that teachers still insist on proper decorum and manners while being spoken to by students. But strangely, it was also about seeing these girls in a uniform that I had worn for four years, rolled my eyes at because the hemline of the skirt had to reach our knees and we, as young ladies, had to wear pettycoats under our skirts rather than shorts.


Will I push Jordan to go there? No, that is not my style. But I will tell her about the school and tell her about what I did there. I would probably give her the sanitized version that wouldn't include mean girls and tears on my part because while all that did happen, I remember the friendships, donning the school colours and thundering down the track to shrill shrieks (girls didn't roar, they shrieked) and taking long walks with friends round and round the bitumen track pondering life issues such as boys and where to go off to college. And if she did go there, I would in my heart know that she would turn out okay because it was a school with values I could get behind, most possibly because the values that I have were imbued within its hallowed walls.

While writing this post, I wanted to put up pictures from all those years ago and am slightly distraught to discover that I cannot find any!

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