Just give me a sign!

Should vs. Want

Yesterday I drove through the state of Idaho. After dropping Grant off at college, Ken and I followed our Google Maps directions as carefully as we could, working our way across wide-open spaces crisscrossed by highways. Considering neither of us had ever made the trip before, we did pretty well until we got a little off track in Twin Falls, where we had to ask directions from the lone worker at the Reeder Flying Service (airport). “Just go back across the canal, turn left at the first intersection,” she said flatly, “then drive about five miles, and you’ll catch 93.”

No excuse for ignorance

My children face virtually no roadblocks to education

Pop, my husband’s now-deceased grandfather, did not even finish second grade. Instead, at age nine, he was given his own team of horses and expected to plow the fields, literally becoming one of the family’s breadwinners before he had lived even one decade. In the end, Pop lived for almost eight decades, and during that time the world changed dramatically. 

Always thirsty for knowledge, he read everything he could get his hands on. But, a century ago, access to print materials was very expensive and extremely limited in Eastern Oklahoma, and iPods and online courses had not yet been imagined. Such was the fate of many hard-working Americans just a couple of generations ago. Fortunately for Pop, however, he came across a magazine advertisement for a “correspondence course” in radio technology. Enrolling in that class marked the official beginning of his adult education, providing him with the know-how and skills to become a much-sought-offer radio and television repairman. 

My own grandfather, also an intelligent, self-educated man, touted the virtue of education incessantly: “Get an education and be your own boss” was his oft-repeated paternal advice to his two sons. Both went on to become doctors of sorts. 

Today my children stand on the shoulders of their grandfathers and great-grandfathers who, through determination and sacrifice, scraped together education for themselves. To those men, the chance to learn was important enough to give up time, money, and convenience. 

With three children already enrolled in college (and the last two making plans to attend), I am relieved and pleased that all of them consider learning opportunities vital to a bright future. In contrast to their grandfathers, however, they face virtually no roadblocks to getting an education. In fact, they would be hard-pressed to not be learning something all the time.

We live in a time when information is everywhere, and we can usually get it when, where, and how we want it. Case in point: almost everyone in the U.S. owns a cell phone (90% of Americans) and has access to the Internet (100% of schools were connected by 2005). This phenomenon is due largely to Moore’s law, which states transistor density doubles every couple of years. Consequently, information and its delivery mechanisms are available exponentially—and at decreasing costs. It turns out Moore was right, and his calculation has proven itself over and over again—not just during the one decade he predicted it would but over almost five decades—and is expected to continue for yet another decade.

Without question, we are all swimming in a sea of knowledge and could easily feel overwhelmed by this data deluge. Fortunately, however, working in tandem with this information explosion are multiple outlets for collaborating. 

Think about Facebook, Twitter, and Digg; consider StumbleUpon and LinkedIn. Many still regard these social media platforms as extraneous and peripheral, but they are becoming increasingly mainstream and even essential to those trying to stay abreast of trends and working to make contributions to all disciplines. Young people understand this. Just ask a teenager what his first step is when doing a school project. I guarantee it won’t be “I go to the library.” Instead, he'll first connect with others, usually online. 

Today, rather than gathering and carrying knowledge alone, we can quickly find others who know what we need to know, giving new meaning to the phrase, "It's not what you know, it's who you know." 

Nowadays, we all stand on each others’ shoulders to learn. Meanwhile, we should be shouldering our own portion of the responsibility by being informed. We have no excuse for ignorance. 

Holding on and letting go

"You cannot always be torn in two." Frodo Baggins

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m thinking again about what my goals should be and what my life will be like in 2011. Change is imminent for many people close to me whose life changes will affect mine. 

In three days, my two college boys will leave for school; in the same week my dear friend of over 20 years will move to Southern California; six weeks later my daughter will leave for her 18-month mission in New Zealand. Other changes, though not quite as clearly marked, have been ongoing and will also affect next year. My mother-in-law, once the lively hub of our extended Perry family, has had a series of strokes and is now content to be waited on almost entirely. Her husband, once the quiet, independent patriarch who now shoulders all the caregiving, accepts with alacrity any offer of help.

What keeps me young

BYU campus at night

A month ago, my middle child graduated from high school, and four days later he started college. He joined his two older siblings at the same university. His departure marked the official day my nest tipped, leaving it now more empty than full. I'm not sure how it happened. I'm not sure when it happened. Just a moment or two ago, I was in my son's place--even at the same university--taking mind-expanding classes, washing dishes in the dorm cafeteria, having late-night conversations with roommates, spending long yet fascinating hours head-down in the library, walking home barefoot on intoxicating summer evenings, dancing in the street...all the while trying to figure out my future. Those were pivotal years marked by many seminal moments of learning and making key choices. 

And just like that, three of my children have taken my place.