Saturday, March 15, 2014

Bimanual Synkinesis

        In college I signed up for one of the required courses for an education major: 'Music for the Elementary Teacher.' The course was taught by a gentleman who appeared to be around the age of 60. On the first day of class he gave everyone a syllabus, then began to go through the assignments we'd be working on throughout the semester. About halfway through that initial class he shared that every student would be required to play a simple song on the piano in front of their peers during the last week of class. He added that one would have to complete this task to pass the course. My first thought?

        I have no chance of getting a passing grade. None.

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        I was born with a neurological condition called bimanual synkinesis. It is also known as 'Mirror Movements'. A person who has this condition cannot control the movement of one hand, because it's doing the same thing as your other hand. For example, when I squeeze one hand in and out, the other hand will squeeze too.

        My parents noticed it before my first birthday. I've seen old home videos that show me lifting a rattle or toy to my mouth and the other arm doing the same thing.

        Around the age of four my mother took me in to see the doctor to learn more about this condition. She doesn't recall much about what he said, other than the fact he wanted to do a case study on me. She refused, fearing that such a study may damage my self esteem.

        I first noticed that my hands and arms moved differently than others around the age of seven. I don't recall other kids teasing me or it ever really being a big problem. I remember trying to learn to play the guitar (epic fail), having difficulty climbing a ladder, and being completely unable to shuffle a deck of cards properly, but it was never anything that made me feel funny or 'different' at any point during childhood. I recall being fearful of taking typing class in high school, but I learned that the motion of pressing down on a key with one hand was so light that it didn't force the other hand's fingers to do the same.

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        During the walk back to my dorm room after that initial music class, my mind was full of anxiety and worry. I wondered how I'd be able to play the song on the piano properly. It troubled me so much that later that day I went back to the Arts and Music building and began practicing on one of the pianos that was available for students.

        After a half hour or so of repeated efforts, I realized there was no way I could play the song. In order to play it properly, one's hands had to be doing two different things simultaneously. No matter how long or hard I practiced, there was no physical way I could play the song properly.

        A day or two later I met the instructor during office hours. I was nervous and I'm sure it showed. I opened by explaining that I was born with bimanual synkinesis, then showed him some examples of how my hands worked. He listened quietly and intently; I got the impression he didn't believe me initially, but as I continued to show him examples he nodded his head in understanding.

        I concluded by stating that I had practiced earlier in the week, but realized there was simply no way I could play the song as requested. I asked if there was an alternate task I could do in place of playing the piano, then waited anxiously for his reply.

        It turned out that he was very understanding of my unique situation. He told me that he'd like me to learn to play the song with one hand, and that if I did so correctly he would give me an 'A' for the task. He followed up by sharing that he had never come across anyone with such a condition before, but that it wouldn't be fair to penalize someone for something they are not physically capable of doing.

        So the story ended happily. I played the song with my right hand when that last week of the semester arrived. I still recall one girl saying to me after class, "You didn't play it right." I just smiled at her and said, "I did the best I could."

        Sometimes in life, that's all you can do.


       P.S.-Here's a youtube video I made 2-3 years ago that shows a brief glimpse of life with bimanual synkinesis: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWvi6xXL_pk 

Saturday, February 22, 2014

66

I teach third grade. There are many times throughout the year in which I have to randomly choose a child for whatever reason. One example would include two kids teaming up on making a poster and I have to pick the one that gets to take it home after the project is graded/complete.

Instead of flipping a coin for such things, I roll a die. Lately, whenever I've rolled our 'special die', it has come up as a 6. This has happened with such frequency lately that the kids have been saying, 'It's going to be a 6' before I even roll.

Yesterday we were having problems with hallway talking during bathroom breaks, so I gave them a little motivation to stay quiet before we went out for our afternoon stop. As we were standing in the room I said, 'If I don't hear ANY voices in the hall during this break, I will roll the die twice when we get back. If it comes up '6' both times, we'll skip silent reading today and I'll give you 15 minutes of computer time instead.'

The strategy worked; didn't hear a peep during our break. When we got back in the room I was thinking, 'We really should get our silent reading in today. It's a 1 in 36 shot it doesn't happen though, so I should be safe.'

So they all sit down and I grab the magic die. I fling it across the room, it bounces off the wall and sure enough, it comes up '6'. You can imagine the cheer I'm sure.

So now I'm thinking, 'Down to a 1 in 6 chance. I'm still safe. Maybe.'

I fling it halfway across the room once again. Yep, you guessed it. Another 6.

 Imagine the cheer in your head. 

It was even louder than that.

Spending your days with 8 and 9 year olds is priceless.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Intellivision

The Intellivision game system was released nationwide in 1980. I don't know the exact date I learned of its existence, but I do know that I wanted one as a teen.

Badly.

In the fall of 1982 my brother and I were desperate for an Intellivision game system. As luck would have it, my Uncle John (Dad's brother) was on the board for the local Catholic schools' football league for 7th and 8th graders, and he hired us to work the games. We were two members of a three man crew that moved the ball marker and first down chains during the games. These games were played every Sunday afternoon and since it was a six team league, each of those afternoons would see us work three separate games. Our pay was a mighty $10 apiece for the day's work.

My brother and I saw this as an opportunity to purchase the cherished game system. We needed $300 for the game system and the job would see us bring home a total of $280 over the course of the 14 week season. Birthday money obtained that fall would push us over the top of the needed $300 goal.

We learned just what we had gotten ourselves into that first Sunday of the season. The job saw us at the field for several hours, as each game took over an hour, plus there was plenty of down time in between games. The weather that first day was less than ideal; we learned how soaked one could get when standing on a sideline for three games while it's raining.

By halftime of the second game, my brother and I decided we had enough. We were going to quit after one day's work. We couldn't fathom the thought of giving up another 13 Sundays and dealing with being on our feet, the loud (and sometimes rude) coaches, the boredom between games, and of course the inclement weather. The money for the Intellivision would just have to be earned some other way. Or better yet, maybe we could just get our parents to buy it for us without all this hassle and inconvenience of working for it!

So when we got home that first Sunday, we announced to our parents that we were quitting. The conversation went something like this:

Me: We're quitting.
Mom: No, you're not.
Dad: You made a commitment to work that job through the entire season when you accepted it. You're staying true to your word.
Me: But.............
Dad: There's nothing more to discuss. You'll be there every Sunday for the rest of the season.

Needless to say, my brother and I were not happy.

We fulfilled our commitment. We were there every Sunday for those following three months, lugging the chains when first downs were made, dealing with the weather, dealing with the boredom, dealing with it all.

At the conclusion of the season we received our money and we bought the Intellivision game system shortly thereafter. Countless hours of entertainment were had as a result of this entire experience. But something far more important happened to me because of it.

It was one of the greatest life lessons my parents have ever taught me. The true meaning of the words 'commitment' and 'work ethic' were taught to us through that experience. We also learned the meaning of the word 'reward'.

Today I'm a 46 year old man. Long after the autumn days of 1982 I held part time jobs, went on to college, and have now had my current teaching position for 23 years to date. I may not have such a track record to speak of today if the events that occurred in 1982 had never unfolded.

 I've also raised my own children and tried to instill the values of money, commitment, and work ethic into them, just as my parents did all those years ago. They will benefit from their grandparents' indirect teachings for a lifetime.

This story is just one of the many life lessons Bob and Sheryl taught me through the years. Thank you Mom and Dad. Thank you for not only teaching me the lessons of life, but for doing it so well that I've been able to instill them into my own children too. Our lives are all better because of the values you instilled in me.

                                  The Intellivision, 30+ years later

Monday, January 27, 2014

Ty Cobb

The Topps trading card company included ten 'All-Time All-Stars' with their 1976 set. One of those ten players was Ty Cobb.



I had heard of Ty Cobb by the time I was nine years old. I knew he had a kick ass lifetime average of .367, because it said so right there on the back of his card. 



This told me he must have been pretty good. However, I had a hard time believing that, based on the front side.

It seemed like I'd get a Ty Cobb card within every other pack. I clearly remember having at least twenty of them. My best friend and main (i.e.-'only') trading partner Jeff had at least a dozen of them too, so his trade value was essentially worthless in my neighborhood. Every time I'd spot him when flipping through a newly purchased pack for that first time, I'd groan.

My nine year old mind was full of skepticism when it came to Ty Cobb, beginning with his running ability. Did he even know how to run properly? It appears he's turning the corner at third base and about to head towards home, but his balance seemed questionable at best and on top of that, his eyes look like they're closed in the photo. Seriously, who runs like that?

On top of that, it's not completely clear he's even on a baseball field. There does appear to be an outfield wall in the distance and there may in fact be dirt defining the basepaths, but a part of me wondered if they dressed him in a Tigers uniform, then took this picture while he was running through Farmer Brown's cow pasture. Is he trying to score a run or avoid a bull?

Babe Ruth was in the set of ten greats. I never questioned his greatness because, well, what kid didn't know about Babe Ruth? Lou Gehrig and Walter Johnson were both included and they too were unquestionable legends in my mind. When I got duplicates of those cards, I added them to my collection without complaint.

But this guy Ty Cobb? I didn't understand how he was considered an all time great. As a nine year old boy who could run swiftly with balance (not to mention with his eyes open!) and one who spent his free time on baseball fields and not cow pastures, I wasn't buying into it. 

Baseball cards helped shape my world in the '70's. 

Those shapes didn't always fit with reality.




Thursday, January 23, 2014

Soulmates

Soulmate-A person with whom you have an immediate connection the moment you meet--a connection so strong you are drawn to them in a way you have never experienced before.

Usually the definition above applies to one's romantic partner. For me, it was different. My soulmate is my oldest son.

I met my soulmate in a Janesville apartment in the spring of '95. I had gone out with his mother however many times before, and now she decided it was time for me to meet her children, so I drove from Beloit to her apartment to meet them.

Her daughter (age 11) was home sick from school that day. Her son was also home. He was four years old.

I wasn't there long before I sat down on the couch. A minute or so after that, this little boy had positioned himself with his back to me and he was walking backwards toward me with a book in his hands. It was obvious he wanted to sit on my lap and have me read to him, so I picked him up and did just that. Shortly thereafter I noticed his mother staring at us with her mouth agape.

I was immediately concerned that I was doing something upsetting to her, so I paused from reading the book to him and said, 'Am I doing something wrong?' She said, 'No. It's just that he doesn't do that with strangers. Ever.'

A special relationship was born.

My oldest son was born with cognitive delays. When I met him, he was a lot like a two year old boy developmentally. He has never had a specific diagnosis (i.e.-autism) and I've never thought there really was a need for one. His brain simply works differently than most. It takes him longer to grasp some concepts, other concepts are quite difficult for him to understand, and critical thinking skills have always been problematic for him.

I fell in love with that little boy over time and after I married his mother, I adopted both of my wife's children and shared with them my surname and unconditional love.



Over the years I have witnessed more landmark moments in his life than I can count. Some of those moments had added significance, considering his cognitive challenges. Each and every time he has reached one, I've cried tears of pride and joy.

One of those moments occurred in early October of 2012. You see, my boy made one of his dreams come true when he moved into his own apartment. He has proven he can handle the responsibility, as it's now been over a year and he continues to live there.

Today he is a lot like the third graders I teach when it comes to his cognitive abilities. He works part time, takes the bus around town when need be, does his own chores/laundry, and loves life and the important people he has in it. He is as friendly of an individual as you'll ever meet, and you may find yourself being given a hug for no reason when talking with him sometimes, just because that's who he is.

 To say he loves his independence would be a vast understatement and he is so proud that he'll tell random people when we're at the grocery store or out to eat together, with statements out of the blue such as, 'I have my own apartment!' The excited tone in his voice remains a year plus later and it'll probably be there 20 and 30 years from now too.

I love all of my children equally, unconditionally, and immeasurably. With my oldest son though, there's the added feeling that I was just *meant* to find him in this crazy world, and that he was meant to find me.

I know many, many good people in life. Some of those people have said things such as, 'He is so lucky to have you' to me over the years. While I appreciate the compliment and understand its nature, I feel like they have it backwards. You see, I'm the lucky one to have him. Sure, I've taught him many things about life, from his ABC's to playing baseball and much more. However, I can say this without hesitation:

Tyler has taught me more about life than anyone I've ever known. Oh yes, I am most definitely the lucky one to have found him.


If you know him, you already know how special he is. If you have yet to meet him, I hope that maybe I've helped you learn how this world is a better place because he's in it.


Saturday, January 18, 2014

'One day' has arrived!

After an almost 40 year wait (http://kevburgh23.blogspot.com/2014/01/1974-topps-baseball.html), I am the proud owner of the 1974 Topps Baseball Set as of today. And I must say.............

                                                                             I



                                                                             am


                                                                             head


                                                                              over

 
                                                                             heels


                                                                               in


                                                                      LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!


Wednesday, January 15, 2014

1977 Topps

Once upon a time, two team's baseball cards mystified me.




On November 5th, 1976 the Toronto Blue Jays and Seattle Mariners added the first players to their rosters via an expansion draft.

I was nine years old at the time.

I had read about this development in the newspaper, but those were just words in print. I didn't see any photographic evidence of the league's expansion until I saw Toronto and Seattle cards from the 1977 Topps Baseball set for the first time.

The league's expansion became a reality for me on that day. Then, as if to remind me that it wasn't a dream, I would get a Mariner or Blue Jay card in nearly every pack I purchased. Repeatedly seeing cards for these two new franchises slowly helped me realize that it was all true. There really were two new teams born in the off season and I was getting a sneak preview of their roster and uniforms within seemingly every pack of cards I opened that winter.





These franchises named their managers and they each received a card in the '77 Topps set, more evidence that these teams would indeed take the field come that April.




I remember announcing to my friend Jeff that the Blue Jays would be better than the Mariners because they had a much cooler logo on their caps and their team uniforms had 'better colors'. You'd expect a nine year old to decide on the better team in a different way?

It's now 37 years later. I understand the world a lot more clearly than I did in early 1977. I understand that expansion means more money for the league. I understand that teams don't perform any better or worse than another based on their team logo or uniform colors. I understand that I didn't fully understand how two new teams could be created out of thin air as a nine year old boy.

Today Toronto and Seattle are just two teams amidst a league that expanded two more times in the 1990's. I don't think about the Mariners or Blue Jays all that often today. However, when I do think of them, I think of how their existence mystified me all those years ago. 

I think about how baseball cards helped me to understand the world a bit more clearly.