Learning to Tie My Shoes

When it was time for their child to start kindergarten, parents in my neighborhood chose either Cleveland Hill or St. Aloysius, the local public or closest parochial school.  Cleveland Hill admittance criteria stated that a child had to:

1.       Be 5 years old by October 1
2.       Know their name, address, and phone number
3.       Be independent in the bathroom
4.       Be able to tie their shoes

A mid-September birthday made me one of the youngest in my class.  Recitation of my contact information was easy – Marilyn Huebel; 489 Huxley Drive, Cheektowaga, New York; Parkside 4704 – and I had the third requirement down pat.  That last issue of shoes presented me with my first deadline.  The proper manipulation of shoelaces involved dexterity and meant doing a task instead of performing.  I was good at the latter, not necessarily so good at motor skills, and back then most shoes had shoelaces.  Loafers other slip-ons were for older boys and girls.  Flip flops or sandals were not for school and Velcro hadn’t been invented.

That summer I remember sitting on the back step trying to tie my saddle shoes.  Sandy, the fifth grader who lived next door, did not teach me a cute little ditty about the bunny going through a hole that helps today’s kids associate tying motions with a rhyme.  She just helped me figure out the around, under, and through actions.  I practiced over and over until I felt confident and suddenly this daily ritual where I had relied on others became routine for me to do on my own. 

My mother registered me for school in August and simply attested to my eligibility and abilities.  There was no demonstration of my knowledge or expertise, no certificate for shoelaces 101. 

Isn’t that true of so many of our accomplishments of which we are personally proud?  Graduations and ceremony mark the culmination of exams, term papers, and pop quizzes, but it was when the Pythagoras theorem suddenly made sense that I wanted applause.  Those situations teach us to be proud of our accomplishments and that our success and learning may be the only reward.
 
My shoe-tying equivalent for these times is mastering some bit of technology.  Whether it’s doing a formula on a spreadsheet, downloading a book to my MP3 player, or changing the time on the clock in the car, I am proud when I figure out how to do it and am successful.  My guess is that you have something comparable for which you’d like acknowledgement.  Here’s a generic High Five for today, but anytime you need a “Tying My Shoe” fanfare, you let me know and I’ll help you celebrate.

 

Marilyn

“The joy of discovery is real, and it is one of our rewards. So too is the approval of our work by our peers.” Henry Taube, winner of the Nobel prize in chemistry, 1983