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Medium 9781574412444

4. Height and Weight

Peggy Heinkel-Wolfe University of North Texas Press PDF

Sam blew bubbles, but had trouble with the cards. She showed him a card with a picture of a hamburger on it that day.

“What’s this, Sam?” she asked.

He walked around the speech therapist, looked at the card, and said nothing.

“What’s this, Sam?” she repeated.

He started wandering away.

“Can you tell me what this is, Sam?” she repeated.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her, pointing at the picture.

“But he’s never seen one of those before, let alone eaten one. I don’t think he even knows the word hamburger.”

“Oh, well,” she said, putting the card down. “We try to get him to learn new words, too, not just say the words he knows.”

Eventually, I learned all of the Rules by violating them one by one.

Height and Weight

“Hi, Mom. It’s me,” I telephoned.

“Hi, you,” she replied. Sometimes hearing her voice was like stepping into a steaming, hot bath. My tension and worries evaporated. I was so glad that Mom and Dad returned early from Saudi Arabia. After Iraq invaded Kuwait in late 1990,

Western newspapers claimed World War III was on the horizon. Chris and I, and our other sisters, Karen and Teresa, begged my parents to come home. Mom and Dad didn’t understand our concerns. I was surprised Karen couldn’t convince them that Saudi state-owned media was downplaying the invasion. But, within days of our panicked, trans-Atlantic phone calls, hundreds of F-16s flew in all night long over the compound where Mom and Dad lived. The next morning, Mom

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19 Toward Being out of the Box

, The Arbinger Institute Berrett-Koehler Publishers ePub

“I do?” I searched my memory about the sessions the day before. I was sure we hadn’t talked about it.

“Yes. And so did I when I was wondering how to get out,” Lou said.

“Huh?” At that moment I was really lost.

“Think about it,” Lou replied. “As I sat there regretting how I’d acted toward my wife, my son, and my coworkers, what were they to me? In that moment, was I seeing them as people or as objects?”

“In that moment, they were people to you,” I said, my voice trailing off in thought.

“Yes. My blame, resentment, and indifference were gone. I was seeing them as they were, and I was regretting having treated them as less than that. So in that moment, where was I?”

“You were out of the box,” I said softly, almost as if in a trance, trying to locate what made the change possible. I was feeling a bit like a spectator at a magic show who sees the rabbit surely enough but has no idea where it came from.

“Exactly,” Lou agreed. “In the moment I felt the keen desire to be out of the box for them, I was already out of the box toward them. To feel that desire for them was to be out of the box toward them.

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Medium 9781576750919

Becoming People Smart

Silberman, Mel Berrett-Koehler Publishers ePub

While some kinds of abilities remain stable or even decline as you age, your ability to be people smart can grow continuously. That’s the good news. The bad news is, it won’t be easy. We adults are often not open to change. If you don’t believe this, try this simple experiment:

Fold your arms without thinking. Now, fold them the opposite way so that you switch which arm is on top. Feel awkward? You bet. Well, stay that way for a minute. Now, cross your legs without thinking about it. Yep, the upper part of your body is still uncomfortable but your lower part is nice and comfortable. Now cross your legs the opposite way. Your whole body is now out of your comfort zone. Now go back to the way you normally fold your arms and cross your legs. Feel better? That’s the real you. It’s comfortable to do things in familiar ways.

For better or worse, we have gotten used not only to folding our arms and crossing our legs in certain ways, but to relating to other people in certain ways. And it will be uncomfortable to change.

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Chapter 22: Stephen—Shaken Baby Syndrome

Naomi Scott University of North Texas Press PDF

Chapter Twenty-Two

Stephen—Shaken Baby Syndrome

“Without riding I don’t think Stephen would be walking with a walker now,” nurse Roxann Martin-White said. “People need to know the damage that shaking a baby can do.”

Stephen White is a lucky seven-year-old. Yes, he has endured appalling trauma in his short life and has serious medical problems. Still he is lucky, because he can call Roxann and Joe White his parents.

After bringing up their own four children, the Whites began caring for other youngsters, many of whom came to them with special needs. The couple has adopted six of them. Those who volunteer work a few hours, then we can return to our home. The Whites have made a commitment, which requires twenty-four hours a day. I can’t think of sufficient words to express my admiration for them. Surely countless others the world over are similarly committed, and I am in awe of them all.

Stephen entered the Whites’ lives shortly before his fourth birthday.

“He didn’t crawl, or scoot along on his bottom like he does now,” Martin-White said. “All he could do was roll over. He couldn’t talk, except for a couple of words, and he had no communication skills. He was withdrawn, very quiet.”

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9 The Beginning of an Idea

The Arbiner Institute Berrett-Koehler Publishers ePub

Lou picked at the Mexican food Carol had brought him while the group assembled back into the room. The mood was much lighter among them than it had been at the beginning, when they were sizing each other up. And the tension that had filled the interchange during much of the morning session seemed to have faded away. Gwyn, in fact, was deep in conversation with Miguel and seemed to be enjoying it. Elizabeth and Carol were in the back of the room browsing a Camp Moriah leaflet together.

Just then, Pettis walked up to Lou from behind.

“So, Lou,” he said, as if they were just picking up on a conversation that had been recently interrupted, “four years in ‘Nam.”

Lou nodded.

“Hat’s off to you, my friend. I was there, but it’s different flying above the jungle than it was down below. I know that.”

Lou nodded appreciatively. In peacetime, pilots always think themselves superior to the so-called grunts on the ground. And the infantrymen carry around an inferiority complex about it as well, although they’d never admit it. In wartime, however, the psychology changes. The high-flying pilots quickly develop a deep admiration for their partners on the ground. And soldiers on the ground, although grateful for their cover when they hear the roar of supportive aircraft overhead, would tell you, if pressed, that those well-heeled flyboys never get their uniforms dirty enough or their vital parts close enough to the crosshairs of the enemy to know real bravery—or fear for that matter. In Vietnam and elsewhere, the grunts receive the lion’s share of the admiration and respect of fellow soldiers.

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