The timing of critique.

Recently on an instructor discussion group, a fellow teacher asked a question about giving feedback to a student after a show

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Question:
"I was recently at a student show put on by another instructor where one of my students performed in a group choreography. At the break she asked me what I thought. I told her that she was doing well with the choreography, obviously knew it, but she needed to get her eyes off the floor and look at the audience some.

She then told two of my other students that were there as spectators (when they all went out for a smoke) that I was criticizing her. Seriously, I didn't think I said anything that would be taken wrong but obviously I did.

I repeatedly tell my students when we start learning about performing in front of an audience not to stare at the ceiling for divine guidance or constantly look at the floor, so this is something that she has heard before, over and over and over.......

What should I have said or not said? If I wasn't asked I would have kept my mouth shut."

"Shay says:
I want to start by saying that I felt your feedback was perfectly appropriate and not at all overly critical. But I think the timing of it was what caused the issue.

Question for today...

What was the last thing you did/accomplished which made you truly proud?

Neruda...

Mom Moore has always loved Neruda, and instilled a love of it in her son, who found the sonnet below today. He hopes to include it in her memorial somehow, and I think it is simply perfect.

Rest in the care of Your Father's arms, Mom. We love you so dearly. Thank you for the inspiring example of selfless love and giving you demonstrated in every aspect of your life in the time I have known you. You gave more of yourself in your time on earth than many could muster in three lifetimes. You were truly a gift in this life, and will surely continue to be so in the life you now go to. Thank you for raising such an amazing son, who has become my best friend and true partner in life. Your unconditional love lives on in his sweet heart, and I feel so honored to be a part of your family.

"When I die, I want your hands on my eyes:
I want the light and wheat of your beloved hands
To pass their freshness over me once more:
I want to feel the softness that changed my destiny.


I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep,
I want your ears still to hear the wind, I want you
to sniff the sea's aroma that we loved together,
to continue to walk on the sand we walked on.


I want what I love to continue to live,
And you whom I love and sang above everything else
To continue to flourish, full flowered:


So that you can reach everything my love directs you to,
So that my shadow can travel along in your hair,
So that everything can learn the reason for my song!"

Sonnet 89
Pablo Neruda

The longest day of the year...

Today is supposed to be the longest day of the year. But I think yesterday was bucking for first place. Stephanie called early in the morning and told us to come over right away. We didn't get that message for three hours. Pat had woken up and was not responsive. Just staring. She refused food and water and pain meds all day long. She was still responding one-word answers to some things, and even put together short sentences in the morning, but by afternoon and evening wasn't speaking much at all.

Today she is aware/alert, but not saying anything. She is allowing water to keep her mouth wet, but still refusing to eat or drink. She can't really swallow anything right now anyway... Stephanie, Nathan, and Gina have been nonstop in their caring for her, even sleeping on the floor in her room last night to make sure she had someone nearby whenever she needed them.

Pat is surrounded by a lot of love right now. Friends and family coming by all day long, dropping off flowers and food and cards. We sat with her all day and night. We are back today by her bedside, trying to keep her comfortable, and saying the things we need to say.

It's understandably somber and quiet here. There isn't much to be done, so it's just *being here* that we can offer. And that is what we are doing...minute by minute, hour by hour, day by blessed day.

Friday, there you are...

It's Friday, and I am not sure where the week went. Time is flowing strangely right now. Some days fly by, and some hours seem to drag on forever. The sunshine is most welcome today. Started cleaning up the area where Chris' "outdoor kitchen" will live. Piles of leaves from past seasons, branches from the recent hedge-hacking, a bag of god-knows-what, trash, old cardboard...how did this all GET here?! UGH! Already it looks pretty good, but a long way to go yet. I have to pull up all the old cement pavers, pull up the rotten plastic the original owner put down, cut out all the shooters from the lilac bushes, re-level, then a new weed barrier, sand, and new pavers. Whew! Hoepfully I will get some more work done on that this weekend, if the weather holds.

Went for my visit with Mom Moore today. She says she was feeling a bit better today still. Every day she feels a little better. But she still can't get around well at all, sit up or lay down on her own, that sort of thing. The drugs really do a number on her, but she is talking more and even laughing a bit. I hope she is feeling significantly better by the time her birthday rolls around, on July 5th.