Chapter 7

I responded that the parent review grandfather's wellness and what his self-image might be in the light of his past. Had he always been as withdrawn as he now appeared to be? How had he related emotionally to his family when his children were young? Had the family been close, or had Dad been distant even then toward his children and their mother? If he had been a close and caring father, when did changes occur that were significantly different, as currently displayed toward his only grandchild?

What might have brought the changes on? Advancing age can be an important factor: changes that occur during a person's eighth decade and beyond can be ravaging, especially if health had seriously deteriorated or a great personal loss experienced. If such was the case, Grandpa might feel strongly not to impose his difficult problems on to Grandchild?

'I don't know if Grandfather can be changed,' I wrote. 'I do believe that Grandfather needs your understanding and your compassion, and the same from your spouse or partner. Equally, but perhaps not aware of it, he needs the understanding and compassion of his Granddaughter. She keeps reaching out to him; I conclude her sense of compassion is strong. Compassion will not be a burden to her; to the contrary, reaching out strengthens her sensitivity and her developing maturity.

In closing, 'I address to Granddaughter the 'suggestion' you asked for: 'Granddaughter, keep trying. Grandpa might not respond, but he hears you. Do not default; do not ever, ever give up.''

Recapture the Spark

The following article, Joint Day Care for Young and Old, appeared on the op-ed page of The Wall Street Journal, issue dated December 31, 1986. It is as relevant today as when it was first published.

The author, Tara McLaughlin, was a former day-care administrator in Washington, D.C. and, at the time of the publication, a research associate with the Urban Ethnic Research Program at Arizona State University, Tempe, Arizona. I was preparing my first edition of grandpa stories and Ms McLaughlin kindly gave me permission to include her article.

I believe the article deserves wide dissemination to care centers for all age groups, schools, senior centers, retirement residential communities, health care institutions, and other places, especially to where young and old gather or reside. *** Joint Day Care for Young and Old (With the author's permission.)

One evening after work, my husband and I picked up our three children from their day-care center, and we all went to get her great-grandmother at hers. As we entered the adult center, we were struck by the immediate outpouring of love from the elderly to our children.

The day-care adults spontaneously asked questions, and our children, delighted with having an audience, embraced and talked with their newfound friends. As any parent will attest, children and grandparents are allies, because the elderly have the perspective to realize that when a five-year old girl says she wants to be a ballerina, it does not necessarily preclude the possibility that she will become a nuclear physicist. The great expectations of exuberant and excited kids need to be encouraged by attentive adults. A child's special plans or ideas don't always keep on hold until after dinner. And, too, our raucous eight-year old son is never more attentive and loving than when he is with his great-grandmother. She, in turn, cherishes the time with him as she would a special gift.

Because over 50% of mothers work and many grandparents cannot remain at home all day without assistance, the time for wouldn't-it-be- nice-if kind of talk has clearly passed. Broader social issues are really the roots here. Why are we segregating these two groups in the first place? Our elderly are feeling they are being shuffled off to homes, and young people are growing up without the benefit of elderly role models. This is a society where most mothers work and most children don't live close to grandparents. Dual day-care is a simple, loving solution to this separation of the generations.

A Musty Room

As a former day-care administrator I have seen 30 children mobbing a teacher and clamoring for attention-praise for a project, a kiss for a hurt or applause for their ability to count all the way to 10. At the other end of the spectrum, one of my most haunting childhood memories is of making a Christmas visit with my Girl Scout troop to a nursing home, eager to 'brighten a day.' Instead I remember walking into a musty room and helping her to write a letter to her family. The quizzical look she gave me as she asked 'What shall I write about?' and my own awkward groping for an answer are a vision I carry with me today.

Day-care children don't have a lack of playtime; they have a lack of one- to-one attention. And the day-care elderly don't have a lack of time on their hands; they have a lack of someone to share and laugh with and glean excitement and energy from. Combined, dual day care, built on these needs, probably would cost no more and would disturb no one, and, in fact, it just might be the perfect solution.

Learning that a particular bird is called a sparrow or that a particular tree is called a pine is very special to children who cannot read and who have an active curiosity about the unknown elements of their world. Older adults can read and tell children about this existing world of ours, and what's more they have the time to share with the children. While the elderly would not have the special training of the early-childhood teachers, they would be a supplement to, not a substitute for, staff. Parents and grandparents, after all, don't need diplomas. Conversely, some day-care adults might have ambulatory problems that call out to children who have an intrinsic energy and desire to help. None is prouder than the child who has helped do something for someone else.

Voluntary Participation

Walk through a model dual day-care center for a moment. Most facilities for children wouldn't need to be modified, and adult centers would need only slight modifications. One room for adults, one for children, and a shared recreation room, eating room and yard. Simple.

Now, how popular could the idea become? Given half a chance, most elderly in day-care centers would enthusiastically welcome the idea. With voluntary participation, concern about temperament compatibility need not be a problem. But how would working mothers respond to this? How could they be convinced?

To promote the idea, working mothers could be offered half-price subsidies as an experiment, providing the initial incentive. The elderly could be bused to the children's day-care centers just as they are now being driven to their own. Schedules could be coordinated so that public school buses are used at times when they are not needed for schoolchildren. Each child would be paired with a designated grandparent.

'Adored Attention'

Preventing staff burnout has long been the problem of both adult and child day-care centers. Dual day care would take some of the pressure off. The two age-segregated groups can come together-kids will grow intellectually, gaining the knowledge of age and experience; the adults will recapture the spark of life from the kids; and both will gain the special gift of 'adored attention.'

Cost-effectiveness needs to be given a true test, perhaps by the government at its day-care centers for welfare recipients. This would free government funds for other people in the community. Of course, dual day care would be especially effective for families with both day- care needs.

As a mother, I see that the minute-to-minute problems, vital to kids, don't keep well and just can't wait until later. As an adult, I am not looking forward to my own future in adult day care, looking blankly at a piece of stationary because I have nothing new to write about.

Grandparents in the Virtual Classroom

The following exchanges illustrate e-mail interaction and communication between elementary school students in one community and older adults residing either nearby or in various locations throughout the country. To ensure privacy of the children involved, I use first names only. Many older adults participated in this program, however, quoting from their letters, except where the remarks are most general, might be inappropriate, and so are not included. The manager of the school project is the teacher.

>From the teacher:

I am a teacher in Southern California (land of many lost families) who is very desirous of establishing an intergenerational link (or many links) for my class.

I think a large part of the problem our children and our society face is a sense of 'rootlessness'. I plan to devote a considerable part of my curriculum for this school year to developing a sense of self, family, community, national identity and global citizenship. I want my students to start knowing who they are, why they are that way and that they can influence the conditions they experience.

I plan to use telecommunications as much as our school's limited resources will allow. I would like to communicate with other classes all over the U.S., especially from areas where ethnicity, cultural values and religion are known to vary from the majority. I would also like to involve as many age groups as I can. I will be interacting with college students, high school and middle school students as well as with all levels of my K-5 school.

>From an older adult:

I would be pleased to work with your students. I have been quite close to (a high school) intergenerational project and believe that this sort of thing could help a lot of kids.

...another adult wrote:

I will be honored to interact with your youngsters. Being an old newspaper reporter I write in short sentences. Being a little not-yet- grown-up myself I understand and speak their language. My grandmother gave me a vivid recounting of her trip from Missouri to Colorado in a wagon train. And her first trip back in a Model T and many other stories. I'll be glad to share. I love young, open, inquisitive minds.

To which the teacher replied:

You are wonderful! Thank you so much for being willing to interact with my students. I think your perspectives and insights will really enrich their understanding of the world and of life. I will do most anything to help my students expand their thinking and I really appreciate your willingness to help me!

One more adult...

I am fascinated with your project; it sounds and feels just right. I am a seventy year old retired physician who is enjoying his retirement. I believe we are all witnesses to our time; we are all making history which succeeding generations will read about in their texts. Real immortality, I believe, is in the passing of ideas from one generation to the next, in holding out our hands to help or to be helped-the gestures are much the same.

Shortly afterward, from the teacher

Ready or not, HERE THEY COME! Thanks for your patience. I hope you enjoy their introductory letters.

>From 'Jessie'

Hi my name is Jessie. I am in the fifth grade. I am a girl. My teacher is Mrs.--- . By the way, she is the best teacher there ever was and she's great at making it fun to learn!

My favorite color is purple. What's yours? Do you have any pets? I have two dogs. I like to read about the past and the future. My cousin wants to be a Doctor. I want to be a Lawyer and yell at people. Allen says I'm good at that!

>From Daniel

I'm ten years old. My name is Daniel. I love to draw and play football. I really love football. What do you like? Do you like to draw? I do. Maybe I can draw you a picture. I have a turtle and a dog and a snake for a pet. Do you have any pets? Write back please....

>From Joey

How do you do? My name is Joey. Please tell me more about yourself and the newspaper business. My favorite sport is basketball. I like to play Nintendo.

>From Aubrey

Hi. My name is Aubrey, and Amanda and I are sharing you. This is so exciting talking to you online. I'd like to know about you and your great grandparents. Oh! and thank you so much for the postcard, too. I know we are going to have so much fun online. Thanks.

The teacher added: That's all for now! The children look forward to hearing from you all.

>From an older adult

Dear Jessie,

Thank you for writing your very nice little note to me. I think it was very well done and makes me want to write more. Mrs. ----- sounds like a neat teacher; I'm sure she is proud of you. My favorite colors are violet and purple-my wife likes those colors, too. We have a dog and a cockatoo that is getting old. All he does is scratch. He is hard of hearing, which makes for interesting times.

I'm glad you like to read. The past gives you some idea about how other people did things, and gives you a clue of what to do in the future. The present is where we are now. We all make our own futures, which quickly, too quickly, become our pasts.

Actually, (as a lawyer) yelling will lose you more cases than you will win. Lawyers have to be able to argue, that is, discuss the pros and cons of a case. It takes reasoning ability and a calmness of spirit and a love for justice. I'm sure you are good at a lot of things. You sound full of vim and vigor and enthusiasm. That's great!

Please write to me what you are doing, about what you like to study and whatever else you would like. I will try to be more prompt in answering you. These last few days were hectic for me.

Dear Jessica,

It's nice to meet you this way. I'm glad to hear that Mrs. ---- is your teacher. She sounds great. I'm in good health, thank you for asking. I have three grown boys, but no grandchildren yet. We have an old dog that thinks he is our boss. We really like cats better, but our dog is too old and set in his ways to tolerate any cats.

My youngest son and his girl friend have four cats between them. I like being a retired physician. I don't have to attend emergencies and I can get all the rest I want. When I go to the hospital it is to get medicines.

I like your goals, they are very nice. If you change your mind as you get to look at different professions, that's OK. Whatever you decide, go for the best. A neo-natal nurse is a very good kind of person to be. I think I will be proud of you.

Thank you for writing to me. I will look forward to your reply.

Another….

Hello Daniel.

It was a pleasant time I had reading your letter to me. Thank you very much. Football and drawing are favorites of yours. I like football also. In fact, I did play football in high school and college. I was a fullback, but never got to handle the ball. In those days the fullback was like a guard or a tackle. All he did was block for guys who carried the ball.

As for drawing, I'm not very good. In fact I'm terrible. Freehand drawing, that is. What I do instead of drawing is use my computer to do graphics and illustrations.

As you work with computers during your school career I'll bet you'll love some of the creative things you can do with computer drawing programs. My favorite drawing software is called 'Arts & Letters'. It has a lot of pre-drawn illustrations. These are called 'clip art'. I can, for instance, call up an illustration of an airplane. Then I can do all sorts of interesting things to change how the airplane looks. It's a lot of fun.

As for collecting things, I like funky menus. The funkier the better. Last month I was in a place in Wyoming where the menu was printed inside an old newspaper. The newspaper had stories that actually were in newspapers from the late 1890s, when trappers and explorers were just pushing into Wyoming territory. I got so interested in reading all those stories the waitperson had to come by twice to get me to order. The menu was in the middle of the foldout old paper. So if you ever run across a funky menu, send it my way. Thank you for your thoughtfulness.

Thanks, and let's keep exchanging information. I enjoy hearing all about you, your school and your friends. And what you like and don't like. Turtles? Snakes? My goodness! I'll pass on both of those. I live in an apartment and no pets are allowed. But for several years, until he died, I had a cat, properly named BearCat. Bear hated to ride in the car. It was an annual battle of wills between Bear and me to get him his shots at the vet. I miss Bear. *** >From the teacher, addressed to all who wrote to her students

Dear friends,

My students have so enjoyed the exchanges we have had so far. I hope you will continue to write to us!

My students are afraid you will forget about them and asked me to remind you that we are here and we love your messages. If we owe you letters, please forgive us; we will remedy that as quickly as we can! If you 'owe' us letters, please write.

I leave you with this somewhat apt quote from LIVE AND LEARN AND PASS IT ON (a lovely little book given to me by a former student):

'I've learned that young people need old people's love, respect, and knowledge of life, and that old people need the love, respect and strength of young people.' (The writer was 85 years old.)

An elderly person wrote and asked, 'How do we get to write to children?'

To which the teacher replied:

Writing to the children is easy! Just jump right in and do it! They are really 'into' this now and will snap up your request. I would like to start having them each (29 of them) choose a particular friend here so I still need a larger pool of adult writers.

What others have done is simply write and post a brief letter telling about themselves, some idea where they live, their interests, anecdotal family history that children might relate to, work background, etc.

Thanks for your interest. We hope to hear from you soon!

Show-and-Tell Expert

An elder, whether he or she is a biological grandparent or not, can be an excellent show-and-tell for a youngster. If you haven't tried it, give it thought, the experience is one of the best antidotes for the 'blahs.' The experiences range from the hilarious to the poignant, and deserve being shared.

During a visit to my distant grandchildren they invited me to accompany them to school to tell a few stories. On the appointed day, waiting in line with my granddaughter to enter her classroom, she glanced around to see if I was still there. Seeing me, she waggled her thumb at me over her shoulder and loudly proclaimed for all to hear, 'That's my Grandpa. He's my show-and-tell today!'

Acknowledging students' stares and giggles with dignified bows to left and right, I trailed along into the classroom, was graciously received, told stories, responded to questions about how the stories came to be, and asked questions in return. I then repeated my performance in my grandson's class. Both sessions went well.

During the storytelling and the discussions that followed, the youngsters were fascinated: they were sharing their thoughts with someone who really wrote stories and, equally important, they were talking with an elder and a grandpa (grandpa-surrogate?) who had come to visit with them from beyond their everyday routines. I was reminded once more that grandparents were nearby for relatively few children, the reasons include circumstances as well as geography. For most, grandparents were distant, deceased, or unknown. *** Some time previously, a friend invited me to accompany him to a children's day care center in his city. He, along with several other elders, visited the center occasionally to interact with the youngsters. Conforming to the center's schedule, we arrived about half an hour before lunch. The children, about 25 three-to-four year olds, were still in the play yard. With permission from the play yard supervisor, we circulated from one group to another and participated in their activities where we could safely do so.

After a while, the attendant assembled the children to return indoors, and we followed. Inside, the youngsters and elders took seats in a circle, the elders spacing themselves about equidistant from each other. To my surprise, it was story time, and we elders were to be the storytellers.

The first storyteller told of a voyage she had taken as a child with her parents, and the second described a winter sleigh ride along a country lane. My friend, a retired aeronautical engineer, spoke of airplanes and spaceships and stars in the skies. Throughout, the youngsters concentrated on the speaker, asked questions, voiced opinions, and, in many ways expressed their wonder and interest. The adults were getting as much from the telling as the children.

I had been engrossed in observing the reaction of the children to the stories being told and I was unprepared for my part. Suddenly, it was my turn. What could I say that would have meaning to these young children? Searching my memory, I recalled that, when my children were young, I had often baked bread for our family. My story would be about baking braided bread, and I would pantomime the process and have all present join in.

The children, and the adults as well, quickly entered the spirit of the story. When, with elaborate motions, I drew forth baking pans and supplies from an imaginary cupboard and placed them on a phantom work table, they did. When I cracked pretend-eggs into an enormous bowl that wasn't really there, they did. Together, we vigorously mixed the invisible ingredients, dumped, floured, and kneaded the phantom mess, centered it on the ghostly table, and raised our arms grandly above our heads and touched fingertips high up to match the height to which our magic dough had risen. Solemnly, we pounded the non-existent lump flat, cut it into unseen chunks, and rolled each chunk into an invisible branch. Watching closely as I solemnly went about it, each child braided their three symbolic branches into their personal loaf, placed it in the shadow oven, and drew it out a moment later, sniffing the fragrance of freshly baked bread.

Faces reflecting their deep concentration, the children were involved. Elders and youngsters had shared an experience, and it had been good. Having worked up our appetites, we were also ready for lunch. *** I've told this story on several other occasions. Preparing for one telling, I rolled three packages of play dough of contrasting colors into eighteen- inch sticks, wrapped each in the clear plastic used for food storage, and secured the plastic with adhesive tape. At the proper moment in the telling, and in elaborate pantomime, I withdrew each colored length, one at a time, from a mysterious-looking case beside me. Youngsters crowded forward, eyes wide and riveted. I held each colored wrap aloft for all to see, and continued with the game. The contrasting colors made the braiding process clearly visible and more understandable. *** I was invited by the Resource Teacher of a local elementary school to participate in their Authors and Illustrators Invitational. Each appearance would be a one man or woman show: a visiting writer or artist and an audience of children. Arrangements fell into place and each of the five sessions I conducted found me in the school library, seated in an ancient wooden grandpa-style rocking chair, with twenty-five to thirty second- to fourth-graders spread out before me in a half circle with their listeners on and tuned in.

To each group I told a story or two, and encouraged questions about how my stories came to be. Planet Jupiter was the setting for one story (told here in another chapter), and I mentioned that the plot and characters had been created by working out details with my grandchildren. Discussing collaboration in writing a story got us into long distance interaction between grandkids and grandparents. With another, middle school group, I dragged out one of my book-length manuscripts and explained the why and how of manuscript preparation and independent publishing and what might happen if (the big IF) the manuscript was accepted by a trade publisher. Questions, lots of questions, no two sessions alike. *** During a visit to my distant grandchildren, then nine-year old Joshua invited me to read a story to his class of about fifteen students during the lunch period. I would have about half an hour, following which the class would break for the schoolyard. Most of the youngsters knew me, as I'd read or told stories to them during previous visits. I was greeted with 'Hi' smiles and hand waves.

The tables had been arranged in a U with me at the open end. Except for the few who hadn't seen me before, they knew I had difficulty hearing. As a reminder I pointed to my two hearing aids and asked the students to speak up when offering opinions or asking questions. This immediately brought comments from several that their grandmothers or grandfathers also wore hearing aids and they knew what was expected of them. To a few, my hearing device was something new. I removed the aid from my ear, opened the battery clip, and walked along the inside of the U to point out up close its major parts and their purpose, then demonstrated how the aid was installed and removed. I activated the acoustic feedback whistle by cupping the device in my palm and rendering a 'shave-and-a- haircut' whistle and this brought several laughs as well as questions. I was off to a good start.

Rather than read or tell a story, I moved on to talk about the United States programs for exploring space, plans for a permanent space station and, in time, a base on the Moon and unmanned and manned flights to Mars. We speculated about the origin of the planets in the light of their relative sizes and orbits along the solar plane. I sketched a rough diagram on the blackboard. The students reeled off the planets' names, and recalled what they knew about this or that planetary satellite. One youngster wanted to be certain that the class was aware that Pluto's orbit was unusual in that it cut across the solar plane inside Neptune's orbit and back out into interstellar space. They knew a lot about the solar system and were proud and pleased to share their knowledge. It was a 'high tech' discussion.

The last item on my agenda was to read several single-page stories, each closing with a dilemma confronting the lead character. The author's answers to the puzzles were included in the text, but before disclosing it I invited the class to suggest their own. They didn't hesitate, and supported their ideas with logic.

As in our previous sessions which, for some students, were as far back as preschool, they felt that they were exchanging views with an elderly adult who had arrived from outside, who wrote stories as well as being a storyteller, and someone who was grandpa to a fellow student. The half- hour passed much too soon.

Talks and readings I've attended over the years gave ample evidence of their value to speakers and listeners. Whether a show-and-tell visitor to a class presents a story, a memoir, an artifact, a skill, or an art form, almost all have something worth sharing with children. The problem is often in bringing the two distant age groups into each other's presence so that the dynamics of their interaction and mutuality can take place. Preparations, as well as the main event, add zest to the experience. A show-and-tell takes many forms, however they occur, one constant prevails: each youngster, while you and I are with him or her, is 'the grandchild.'

Introducing yourself to a distant grandchild as a teller of stories or of family, cultural, or other anecdotes, or as someone who cares about him or her, calls for some initial groundwork. For instance, does your grandchild know you or only of you?

With increased life expectancy and life experience, grandparents of this era have more to offer youngsters than ever before. As life expectancy increases, our children and grandchildren, in their turn, will have more to offer their succeeding generations.

Grandchildren need easy access to grandparents. Casting the elderly into physically remote and psychologically passive roles works against the interests of grandchildren and their parents, as well as their grandparents.

For grandparent-grandchild interaction to flourish, if it is to exist at all, grandparents, themselves, need to take initiatives to reach out. This could call for unusual assertiveness to open lines of communication where there are none, and at keeping them open for a two-way flow.

Don't Just Ride Off into the Sunset

Recalling that far more assertive and influential time in their lives, the elderly insist on their right to age gracefully, usefully, and so far as they possibly can, their way. Rather than merely riding off into the sunset, older adults choose to brighten the horizons of their minds and lives through continued involvement in family, schools, work place, and community. Most elderly reject the diminution of their abilities and interests, although as they age into the seventh and eighth decades they may be compelled to restrict their direct involvement somewhat. Their capabilities, reduced by time and the tides, are nevertheless firmly based on direct on-the-job experience in managing households, family affairs, and professional and technical careers. With such knowledge and experience the elderly will remain a vital resource.

(From Surviving The Future, by Arnold Toynbee, Oxford University Press, 1971) Man is a social being, and therefore, among all the objects for his love that there are in the universe and beyond it, he ought, I suppose, love his fellow human beings first and foremost. But he should also love all non-human living creatures, animals, and plants as well because they are all akin to man; they too are branches of the great tree of life. This tree has a common root; we do not know where the root comes from, but we do know that we all spring from it. Man should also love inanimate nature, because this, too, is part of the universe which is man's habitat.

(Our grandchildren) are not responsible for the existing state of the world. The reality is that the middle-aged generation (the parents of the rising generation) brought them into the world and is educating or miseducating them, or just ignoring their educational needs. If the middle-years or older generations are indignant at the rising generation, who is really at fault? Who shirked their responsibilities to their children and grandchildren? And with whom lies the initiative to resolve these inadequacies? In effect, it is up to the older generation to take the initiative to bring about reconciliation between itself and the generations that are to follow them.