Connections Between Theorists

All of the theorists that we have studied have the following commonalities:

They all believe in a child centered approach to teaching.
Education must be both active and interactive.
Community is an important component of a child’s education. The classroom community, school community, neighborhood, family, etc.
They all believe that children need to be appropriately challenged.
It is important to know the children well, plan well, be organized and build on past learning and experiences.
Observation is key to understanding.

White Privilege 7/27 assign.

Give a quick summary of the thesis of your chosen text so we can be "with you" as we read your reflection.
Please write one statement you can "agree" with and why.
One statement you would "argue" with and why and
One statement that spurs you to "action" in some way.

This article focuses on white privilege. The advantages of being white- some that are commonly thought of, most of which are not. Peggy McIntosh compares white privilege with male privilege. This quote sums up some of what the article focuses on, “As a white person I had been taught about racism as something that puts others at a disadvantage, but had been taught not to see one of its corollary aspects, white privilege, which puts me at an advantage.”

“My schooling gave me no training in seeing myself as an oppressor, as an unfairly advantaged person, or as a participant in a damaged culture. I was taught to see myself as an individual whose moral state depended on her individual moral will. My schooling followed the pattern my colleague Elizabeth Minnich has pointed out: whites are taught to think of their lives as morally neutral, normative and average, and also ideal, so that when we work to benefit others, this is seen as work that will allow “them” to be more like “us.”
In my elementary school in Salem, Oregon there were no African American students, but there were some Hispanic students. However, my school was predominantly white. We learned about treating all people with love and respect regardless of our physical differences. But, children with disabilities were not present, nor were there many children who were not white and born in the United States. We learned about our past- about slavery, Civil War, civil rights movement, etc. etc. But we learned about it as if this was the past, and I was under the assumption for some time that an era of unfair treatment toward people based on the color of their skin was largely over. I sometimes thought about, and was upset by, a few of the 26 statements listed by Peggy McIntosh regarding white privilege, but there were many that I did not know about and did not acknowledge. I admit that during President Obama’s bid for presidency I was shocked at the amount of blatant racism that I saw and heard. And even now I am often surprised that there is so much racism. I often feel that it has taken a new form, instead of blatant racism, which is frowned upon, there is this underlying and more quiet racism. It may not be spoken aloud but it is prevalent nonetheless. This article brings up many of the privileges that I encounter and often do not think about.

There is not much in this article that I would disagree with. I do, however, find the following statement difficult to grapple with, “I did not see myself as a racist because I was taught to recognize racism only in individual acts of meanness by members of my group, never in invisible systems conferring unsought racial dominance on my group from birth.” I agree with this sentiment, and can relate to it. However, I do wonder if you are taught about these issues from an early age and you strive to bring about change by giving up your power then are you still a racist? And, how can we use the label of racist for some people regardless of the work that they are doing to bring about change, while simultaneously using this label for those who are “truly racist?”

The first statement (the one that I agree with) is also the one that most spurs me to action. I want children to see the repercussions of a racist culture, and not the type of racism that is largely seen as no longer pervasive within our society. But to look critically at systemic oppression. To see a series of factors which put those who are identified as white at a profound advantage to those who are not.

Baraka School- Assign 7/29

The word that I chose is contrast. I was struck by the contrast between the neighborhood that the boys lived in, in Baltimore, Maryland and the rural area in Kenya to which they were sent to study and to live at the Baraka School. At Baraka School there were no televisions and the boys were only able to rely on technology for entertainment during their limited free time. In “Rethinking Early Childhood Education” there is a statistic about ABC, which states that in 2007, there were almost four (3.8) acts of violence per hour on average. At one point the boys were asked to talk about ways in which their current environment differed from their home environment and I was struck by the response from one of the boys about the Kenyans nearby who “talked low but still heard each other.” One of the boys, Montrey, had been suspended 8 times in 1 year at his public high school. Despite behavioral issues that he struggled with he had high aspirations. He wanted to get a degree and become a “chemologist.” At the Baraka school boys struggling with violence and anger issues are forced to work together. In one scene, after a classroom fight, the boys are sent to an isolated area where they must work together to set up a tent. Then they must spend the night together in seclusion.

The sparsely furnished “apartments,” the nature, the small class sizes, the positive adult attention and interactions, the lack of technology, violence, drugs, weapons and anger, are all in stark contrast to the reality of their home life. When, after one year in Kenya, the boys are sent home for summer vacation, I was again struck by the contrast. Violence, drugs, police, ambulances, gangs, concrete. Now these boys have seen and experienced a vastly different way of life. They have within them a piece of their Kenyan experience that will always remain. Then the unexpected twist comes, the boys are unable to return to Kenya, to the Baraka School, and must be re-enrolled in the Baltimore Public School system where 76% of African American boys will not graduate from high school. The parents and/or extended family are justifiably angry, scared; And determined for their boys to beat the odds which seem so stacked against them.

I was struck by Bill Cosby’s commentary at the end of the movie. He made the argument that it wasn’t about going to Africa, that wasn’t what helped these boys to beat the odds. The boys needed a “body on them,” they needed to know that there were adults in their life that cared about them and would push them to do their best. Bill Cosby mentioned the tent scene where the boys were forced to talk out their issues. He said that one thing missing in Baltimore is people just “enjoying the spirit of each other.” He compares the current school system which is failing our youth, particularly African American males, to a sidewalk where the cracks are purposely being widened so that the youth will fall through these cracks. Bill Cosby related to these youth because he could see himself as a child in them. He was a child who “needed to be watched” and to “not get away with anything.” He had a “body on him” and feels that this is an important part of what helped him to become successful.

I agree with Bill Cosby on the majority of what he said in his post video commentary. However, I would argue that traveling to, and living in Kenya for a year did provide these boys with a rich experience that helped to change their lives in positive ways. When people are able to travel and experience a different culture and way of life their minds will be opened and their lives transformed. The contrast between the two locations, rural Kenya and Baltimore, Maryland, was astonishing and I believe this helped the boys to grow in positive ways. I would agree with Bill Cosby’s statement that what these boys really needed was “a body on them.” At Baraka School the boys had adults helping them to be successful, there were small class sizes and individualized attention for each student. In Baltimore, there is a lot that is missing, particularly in regards to the education of our youth. One important thing that is missing is individuals who really care about, and have high aspirations for, all children. “Good teachers care whether students learn. They challenge all students, even those who are less capable, and then help them to meet the challenge (Delpit).” Of course this is not limited to Baltimore, it encompasses many inner city school districts. “We can not pretend that we do not know what is going on. We must get up and save children.”

My Place

The one place that I consider the most constant in my life is Camp Magruder. Having moved several times, I was having trouble thinking of where I really felt a connection. Camp Magruder is a camp in Rockaway Beach, OR and I went there a couple times as a middle schooler for week-long camps. This isn't why it's special to me though. Camp Magruder is also home to "Grand Camp" which involves spending a weekend at camp with your grandparents. We stay in cabins together, go to meals together, explore, play, and just be together. My grandma would take my two sisters and me out there every year since 1996. We went to Grand Camp for 13 consecutive years. It feels like my whole life. I know the ins and outs of that camp. I know all the paths, where my favorite areas are, where the good beach views are, where to go when the tsunami bell sounds, where the lake becomes the deep end, where the bathrooms are and which cabins actually have bathrooms in them (these were the cabins my sisters and I would hope for). I know literally every part of that camp. Although sometimes my grandma would make me nuts, it was really nice to just spend time with her doing crafts, walking on the beach, and singing campfire songs. I also liked that I got no cell phone reception which made it really peaceful. There is one part of a forested area at Camp Magruder where I would sometimes go and sit. The average Camp Magruder visitor would not know how to get to this spot. There was a log that was perfect for just sitting and being alone. It's been a few years now since I was last at Camp Magruder and as I write this, I am realizing how I miss it and its familiarity. I guess that means I'll need to go back soon. :)

Home away from home

During our amazing opening activity (thank you Elisabeth and Anna) I wrote that I am thankful for feeling "at home" in many different areas of my life. I feel blessed with a strong sense of belonging that is linked to different people and places. While certain physical places hold a deep connection for me, it is the people who I am surrounded by that offer the deepest sense of belonging. I feel grounded at my condo with my wonderful fiance and my little puppy Leila (even if she does cause havoc every second of the day... I am talking about my puppy, just to be clear!) I feel grounded at my parents house, even though I do not have a bedroom there. I feel grounded in the ocean, as I surf with my closest friends. I feel grounded at my Grandma's house among the beautiful gardens my family has toiled over for years to create. Finally, I feel grounded in the many classrooms of Lewis & Clark, as long as I have my cohort with me!

I truly feel it is not what you surround yourself with, or where you are, it is the people you choose to spend your time with that offer the strongest feeling of belonging.

Silver Creek Falls/Honeyman State Park

There are two places that I would equally love to be. Either Silver Creek Falls Campground or Honeyman State Park. Both of these places are campgrounds that my family would go to every summer when I was growing up. Through this these places have become some of my favorites to be. Whether I'm hiking around the beautiful falls or climbing the big sand dunes, I'm away from the city and with my family. As I said in an earlier post, I'm a food person, camping food is some of my favorite. My mom somehow always came up with the best things to eat, and when were outdoors, it seems to only taste better. The tradition of camping together still continues today with my family, at the end of August we'll be getting together again, and I can't wait. Walking up and down the beach spending time with my parents, brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews sounds like one of the best things in the world to me right now, I'm so excited.

The Cove at Milk Creek

I've always loved nature but I can't really say that I felt connected to nature until I was in my Junior year of high school. It was then I started volunteering at Outdoor School. I taught on water field study and spent many hours sitting by Milk Creek. There is a special place at milk creek that isn't always reachable because of the height of the creek. It's called the Cove... while at the cove - I am able to truly reflect on my day, my students, and my life. It was the first place I closed my eyes and connected with nature through sound, it was an amazing experience that really allowed me to experience a sort of peace I didn't know was possible.

The Cove isn't just powerful for me - the 6th grade students lived it as well... it was a place of reflection for them too. Like Miriam said - have your students pick a place that they can 'own' a place that becomes theirs, where they can check in, take care of, and connect to. While I haven't been to the Cove in awhile (the site is shutting down) I will never forget how it changed the way I connected with nature.

Milk Creek at the Cove: "Go with the flow, like a twig on the shoulders of a mighty stream."

Hamilton Mountain

A place I feel connected to is the top of Hamilton Mountain.  I have been climbing this mountain since I was twelve years old with my dad.  It is a steep four mile hike to the top.  The top of the mountain has an amazing view of the columbia river gorge.  I try to climb this mountain at least once a year.  The first time I climbed it with my dad we buried a bottle cap under a rock.  Every time we go there we dig it up and it brings back memories.  We sit in the same spot on the top of the mountain and really enjoy our surroundings and the view.  When we reach the top we will take in the view and eat our lunch and talk. It is a familiar place to me and I enjoy the simplicity it brings to my life.  All of the same plants are around and the view never changes.   There are no distractions at the top of the mountain and it allows me to live in the moment. 

Icebreaker - Thankfulness

Our opening activity was on the theme of appreciation and sharing what each of us is thankful for in our lives. We began with a moment of silence followed by a guided, brief sensory check in: with our eyes closed taking a deep breath, noticing the earth under us, what we can feel with our skin, what we could hear (noticing near sounds and far sounds), taking short breaths using our nose to bring our awareness to scents and then tastes, and finally opening our eyes and practicing wide-angle vision.

We handed out pieces of paper with raffia ties, and asked everyone to take a few moments to think of what they feel thankful for in their lives. It could be one thing or many, just today or in general. We let the group know that we'd be sharing our writings later. We gave everyone a few minutes to write, and then called the circle back together and asked people to read their writings aloud when they were ready. When the sharing was completed, we explained what the ties were so we could tie our papers on the branches of a tree. Each person hung their paper up and we took a picture of the tree with all the appreciations decorating its branches.

This activity works to build community among a group. As Elisabeth noted her prior experience with working with a group of children, it was harder to think of what to be thankful for, and expose vulnerability in a group setting at the beginning. This activity works differently depending on the time, is the group just getting to know each other, or have they developed relationships? Is this activity done at the beginning of class or at the end of class? It adds an element of spirituality and opens each participant up to each other, ultimately creating a positive state of mind.

As our cohort discussed, there are other elements you can add to this activity. This is a good exercise for children to practice reflective thinking, as at first they may think of a toy, to my Mom drove me to my friend’s house, to my Mom’s unconditional love. Other suggestions included everyone adding things that they are thankful for in a book and having the book open at all times so that students can add as they come up with new things that they are thankful for.

North Fork of the Santiam River

The first place that comes to mind for me when thinking of a place where I feel connected and grounded is the North Fork of the Santiam River. More specifically, a place that not many people know about. On the way to the more popular areas of the North Fork there is a shoulder where a maximum of three cars may park. The hike down to our spot is about 20 min. At one point you stop at the top of a waterfall where there is a calm, shallow pool of water. We take a break at this point and take it all in. Next we continue our hike down, under and over logs, until at last we arrive at “our spot.” There is a rock ledge we must climb down and then there is a large open and flat place for us to unpack for the day. There is a swimming hole, then some rapids, and down around the corner another swimming hole with big rocks to jump off. We love to eat, drink, swim, talk, relax and hike. This is my favorite place to be, absolute heaven! It is unfortunate that I can no longer think of this special place in the same way that I used to. About five years ago, a group of us were at this spot. One girl went over to the area with the rapids (after being warned to stay away from this area) and ended up getting sucked into the water, another friend nearby tried to help and ended up in the water. The girl who originally went in was sucked down and spit out of a hole into a lower area and she ended up fine (just shaken up). My boyfriend/husband jumped in after our other friend and in saving her life almost lost his own. Everyone came out okay physically but it changed us all. The girl who first got sucked into the water never wants to go back. But for us (my husband and I) this special and sacred place is a part of our souls and we feel rejuvenated each time we get the opportunity to be there. The geography of the land is awe inspiring. Despite a negative association, we love, respect and appreciate this special place and we always will.

Porch life for life.

I have lived in my apartment for a couple of years now. We have a small porch in the front of it. This spot is my go to for feeling comfortable and grounded.  It is above street level, hidden by trees, covered in flower pots and the hottest spot in town for the cuttest cats in the neighborhood.  Reading, eating dinner, drinking, laughing, music playing and people watching entertain us from this porch.  I love my porch because it is a place where I can be left alone with my thoughts but I can also allow others in to enjoy its awesomeness. That porch makes my house a home and I know that for now, it is mine to enjoy.

Monterey and Big Sur

My place is where I grew up, Monterey, California, but more specifically Pacific Grove. While I was growing up in this bubble of paradise everywhere else, to me, existed in relation to it. My center of the universe. I can't imagine a safer place to be, even as I moved back when I was 22 I never locked my car. Monterey and Carmel reminded me of what Japan's landscape might be like, with looming cyprus's and jagged cliffs surrounding the pacific. The fog, much like San Francisco would roll in and you could see the moisture in the air. It felt like a cleanse to my lungs.

Big Sur which was just a short jaunt down the highway in my head was where Peter Pan and his lost boys lived. Redwoods, Canyons and the most beautiful white sand beaches with turquoise water and kelp forest peeking above the surface. I used to also think there was magic in the ocean because it sparkled. I still think there is. I usually return every year to sit on the beach and breathe. I could spend hours watching the surf and never say a word. For me this is my childhood and innocence.

Three places I always want to be

Carrying on from our icebreaker on Wednesday, I just want to say how appreciative I am that I have not only one, but three places that I feel at home. Just thinking about my special places, I can't help but to think of all the children in the world who may not have a place where they don't feel struggle. With that being said I am so happy to share my special places with you!

My parents kitchen is always buzzing with music, familiar voices, fragrant foods, tasty beverages, and pure enjoyment. I am fortunate to come from a family that values family relationships, love, and support (and of course a love to enjoy oneself). People who visit my parent's house often expect a small party, filled with stimulating conversation and lots of food and drink. When I am feeling not my best, my mind always returns to my parent's kitchen, and it puts a smile on my face.

I found peace of mind in the studio where I practiced yoga in Korea. Though I would come in and be separated by my race, language, culture, and the amount I sweated compared to my peers, I found that I could provide support to myself through my practice. In Korea, for the first time in my life I struggled to find friends and found myself alone many times. I learned how to depend myself and being able to do that lent a lot of time for self reflection. Even though I was alone, it was because of my practice that I no longer felt lonely.

I was also able to find a new home in my classroom. On my most difficult days, without the comforts of home, I would walk into my classroom to find smiling faces eager to see me. At that point, what seemed difficult became irrelevant, and I would begin the lesson. Although most of Korean culture is unfamiliar to me, I adapted to the Korean education system and have found kindness and acceptance from my students.

Brandywine Park

My place is the Brandywine Park in Wilmington. When I lived in Wilmington, I lived in a row home right in the middle of the city. Throughout the two years I lived there, I spent at least three days a week in the park. It was about a twenty minute walk from my neighborhood. It felt like a whole different world in that park. The Brandywine River flowed through it, it was densely populated with all kinds of trees, and there were hiking trails throughout. It was a definite refuge for me while I lived in a city so far away from all of the comforts of home. I loved watching the seasons change through the park. I often connect memories, feelings, and experiences to what the park looked like at certain times - the changing leaves of autumn, the barren chill of winter, the first signs of life and renewal in spring, and the sweaty, humid, heat of summer. I hope I can get back there sooner rather than later.

The many places of me :)

When thinking of where I feel at home the first thought that comes to mind is Oregon. I remember once showing my cousin and her husband (who were from Montana) Lake Oswego and pointing out how green the trees were and how gorgeous it was. Aaron (the husband) made a comment that it was depressing he couldn’t see the sky as well because all the trees were in the way. He was missing the open sky of Montana. When I had visited Montana previously, I thought it was beautiful but I was missing all the green of Oregon. It is interesting to see where people feel most comfortable and what they’re used to. I look at big trees as a connection to my childhood. I think of climbing them, reading a book below them, and even hiding behind them for a rousing game of hind and go seek. I know this is pretty broad place to feel I belong but I love Oregon and I admire all the places in it… but I know you’re dying to know some specifics so here are a few:

I love my grandparents cabin in bend where I would snow mobile in the winter and go swimming and jet skiing in the summer. It was the place where my family and I would get out a big project (when I was little it was coloring pictures out of coloring books and trying to cover the whole fridge before the visit was over and when I was older it was making necklaces with my mom out of the beads we bought in Sunriver). It was the best vacation place ever because it was all about bonding with those around you.

Another place I love is the walk to Autzen stadium in Eugene. It is such a gorgeous pathway and really made me appreciate my surroundings. My boyfriend and I used to take walks down that path and would talk about life.

Finally, I love my parent’s neighborhood because it brings back all the memories of my childhood. We would play kickball in the cul-de-sac, ball tag when it would get dark (I thank my neighbors now for being so understanding with kids running and jumping fences into their yards), have lemonade stands to be able to raise enough money to walk up to the nearest drug store to get a candy bar, it was the place where I had my first kiss at eight (peck), and where we would have snow ball fights and my brother would protect me from getting hit.

All these experiences have shaped me as a person and where I feel at home goes beyond these places because everywhere I have a memory has a little piece of me there. Thank you for the experience of this class and the opportunity to really learn from one another.

grounded in two places

I feel grounded in two places. My home and my mom's house. This house is the first house that my husband and I bought almost eight years ago, just before we had Jordan. We have raised our boys here, done some remodeling, and generally just made it our home. It's not the fanciest place, but it is our place. This is also the longest I have ever lived in one place in my life. I moved a lot when I was a kid, sometimes almost every year, so I feel rooted here.

I also say my mom's house (which is close by) because I go there almost every weekend. My mom and I are both only children and we are deeply connected to each other. Often in very unspoken ways as we're both fairly private, but connected none the less. Mom was always the constant in my life.

The old barn in Chagrin Falls, Ohio

When Zalika stated the assignment today in class, an image immediately flashed in my mind, from way back in my childhood in Ohio. Funny, I have gotten to live in many lovely places since childhood, and have spent much time in special places here in Oregon, even being intentional in getting to know the details of my own backyard (literally). But I think a place can imprint itself on a person perhaps especially strongly as a child. So my place is the old barn at the back of my family's land, which was a couple acres of fields and woods in Chagrin Falls, Ohio, where I grew up. The barn was white with dark green trim, which is a traditional Western Reserve style. We had three scruffy horses and a barncat there most of the time. When we first moved to that place, when I was four, the barn seemed SO far away from the house, it was a big deal to run all the way there. To get to it, you walked barefoot from the house onto the skinny hard packed dirt path through the field, past the little apple tree where the groundhog lived. Then you slid open the wood gate, and balanced on some slightly tippy wood planks that were laid down over the muddy patch near the water trough, until you came to the split barn door with a rusty horseshoe nailed over it for good luck. Inside, the cement floor was cool on your feet, and you could get a drink of cold water from the pump and it tasted like iron. To this day I love the taste of water with iron in it. When I was a little bigger I went by myself to the barn a lot. There was a lot to do if you had a little time. You could smell the molasses feed in the bins, pet the cat, and go in the back to build forts in the haybales. If you waited very quietly until dusk, you might see the raccoon come out from its home above the tack room to steal the cat's leftover food. Or, you could go around to the backside of the barn, where the grown-ups didn't go because there wasn't a path.

This was a mysterious place even though it was just a few feet away. The back of the barn had once been larger but this part now was in ruins. It was in the woods. There were two pileated woodpeckers back there, and giant white puffball mushrooms the size of soccer balls. Our neighbor, Grandma Nancy, would sometimes come and pick the puffballs and slice them up into slabs and fry them, but I don't think my parents even knew about them. Down in the ravine behind the barn was a little old bridge wide enough for a horse cart and the remains of an old road, its original destination lost, obscured by trees and brush. Under the bridge were natural deposits of thick, gray clay, good for making mudpies and little pots. I lost a rubber boot in there once, got sucked down into the clay. Once, my dad and Nancy's husband Ernie cut down a big tree back there behind the barn, and one of the great log slices got away from Ernie and went rolling down the hill, narrowly missing my dad. It seemed like it was place forbidden to the grown-ups.

Later on, when I was older, about 12, it was my chore to feed the horses every night by myself. My best friend and I would have sleepovers in the barn. On summer days we would ride the horses bareback down through the woods to the river. We would swim the horses in the river and eat a picnic lunch, out all day, crossing roads and exploring for miles. This was back before cell phones so our parents had no idea where we were, but we knew the countryside. On the way back, we might stop and pick wild grapes from the vine that grew on an old dead tree in the pasture, which was best reached from horseback. They had an amazing flavor but were also very sour so I would eat one and then spit it out. My parents moved when I was in college. I went back there a few years ago to visit, but it made me sad, as of course it was not the same. The barn was empty, with dead leaves blowing in the aisle. A barn without animals is not fulfilling its purpose. Fortunately my memories of it are strong.

Place

My place is my parents’ backyard in south Eugene. My family moved to that house the year I turned ten and I spent hours roaming the fence line and inspecting all the trees and bushes. I learned the names of the plants, and found the most peaceful nooks. One year we bought my dad a telescope for Father’s Day and began spending nights out on the deck stargazing as a family, I saw the rings of Saturn from our deck. Several years ago I helped my dad tear out the old wood deck and we built a patio. I haven’t lived at that house since we built the patio, so my associations with the patio are all of vacation, relaxation, long mornings sitting in the sun, drinking tea and reading, or chatting with my mom, watching the wanderings of the cats and dogs, and the flutterings of hummingbirds. The backyard is the place where I feel connection to and ownership of a place and to my family.

The serenity of the beach

My place is definitely the beach. Waves crashing, sand in my toes, sometimes sunny, usually rainy, often windy, somehow peaceful ... always. For as long as I can remember I’ve been spending time at the beach. When I was a child, I went to the Atlantic Ocean beaches as I lived in Maryland and we spent our summers in South Carolina (my dad was an ornithologist for the government and spent his summers studying the brown pelican in South Carolina). I remember wading out into the warm water in my dad’s arms, spending hours bobbing in the waves. When we moved to Oregon I was surprised by the drastic change in water temperature, so my love for the beach transferred from playing in the waves to watching them. The rush of water blocks out all distraction and noise, the smell is incredibly refreshing, the taste of salt is on my lips after a walk on the shore, and I realize I am in my own world. Everything seems better, easier at the beach. The towns seem smaller, the agenda is simpler, the options are fewer, and life just takes on a slower, more relaxed pace when I am there. If only there was a way to bottle that serenity ...

Laurelhurst Loop

This isn't exactly one "place," but where I really feel connected and aligned with my surroundings is on my running route. I usually run from SE 45th and Hawthorne down 45th to Oak, then down Oak to Cesar Chavez (39th), which brings me to Laurelhurst park, in which I do a loop or two and then head back home the same route. The entire run is really comforting and familiar to me, and I have developed what I might call little "relationships" with different spots along the way. The loop in Laurelhurst is the most intimate relationship, probably because it represents the halfway point, which is a crucial marker in any run. I often stop and do some yoga in one of the meadows in the park before continuing on. There is a long hill at the end of the loop that has become my best friend/worst enemy...that hill has had such an impact on me as a runner, since I have trained myself to not slow down when I reach the hill, and to keep the pace up even after it evens out at the top. I also feel a connection with other people walking or running through the park...it's like we all have a common goal and use the park as a vehicle to reach that goal. I feel a sense of community with these people; even though we don't speak, smiles and nods are exchanged as we pass each other. Even though these human interactions comfort me, I also really enjoy rainy days when no one is out walking their dogs or picnic-ing or rehearsing Shakespeare in the Park, and it seems like I have the whole place to myself. When I first moved here, this was the first park I ever ran to, so it really represents my entire time in Portland, which has become my new home. I will continue to run in Laurelhurst for as long as I live here.