Robert Frost’s 1923 Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening has spoken to me more times than I could even begin to count – on both personal and professional levels. Whenever deadlines loom, I reflect on Frost’s yearning for the peaceful, serene power of nature – how it unassumingly wields a force larger than life, almost as if to say that nothing else matters, even though we know, resignedly, that is not the case. The quiet, yet almost jarring, juxtaposition of freshly-fallen snow and jingling horse bells so perfectly evokes December’s ability to make the world stand still for a moment, take in the smell of a wood-burning stove, and embrace the silent, though recognizable, sound of nature peacefully existing.

In the last stanza, Frost laments:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Though the woods I traversed the other night were light, (June, here, replacing December’s winter solstice with its summer counterpart), my mind kept circling back to Frost’s pining. Oh, were we to have the endless freedom to escape into the woods until we’d exhausted its mysteries; oh, the satisfying snap of twigs and crunch of leaves underfoot.

Oh, to be a camper!

For they are afforded such luxuries. For seven days, 42 campers, ages 10-15, did what Frost wanted to do, but ultimately couldn’t, on that evening: simply be. Unencumbered by the tethers of technology, deadlines, homework and competition, they were catapulted into a Colorado wonderland of campfires and kayaking, starry nights and sing-offs, dancing and digging. They bunked with peers and trekked up and down the hills of Camp Shady Brook, alternatingly dusty, wet from paddle boarding or smelling of campfire smoke. They had no connection to the outside world – and were all the happier for it.

On more than one occasion, a few “barbaric yawps” (to quote ) were released in the face of water balloon fights and gaga tournaments, card games and puzzles, the last piece of cheese pizza and the last glass of sparkling cider at the camp social. On Friday, campers sported red, yellow, green and blue bandanas for the mini-Olympics, the ball field a rainbow swirl of friendly competition and team spirit. Most of the time, the four corners of camp echoed with raucous laughter, impromptu guitar solos and thunderous applause.

But there was also a beautiful serenity that blew through camp each day before lunch: psychosynthesis. Campers grounded themselves as they listened to Fellows describe situations meant to engage the heart, mind and all five senses. Through a quiet lilt, as read aloud by Fellows, campers were transported to settings that stretched their imaginations far more than simple geography (beach, mountains, spring) would have one believe.

Like Frost, Yunasa campers also had promises to keep, though theirs revolved around broadening horizons, trying new things, facing challenges, being brave, discovering new truths and, most importantly, embracing themselves for who they are. Many tried the climbing wall or Giant’s Ladder for the first time; others found their voice during Heart of the Matter and shared previously-unspoken truths about themselves with others. There is no safer space anywhere; Yunasa allows one to share as much or as little as they’d like to – all the while being encouraged to share more than they had before. Nowhere else exists a place with more open hearts, minds, spirits, perspectives or intentions.

During the Closing Ceremony, fifth-year campers and a bevy of their compatriots shared what – and who – they were most grateful for. Though varied in their responses, one underlying theme stood out: Yunasa West is a place like no other and, even though it only exists for a week, its spirit and the friendships formed sometimes carry more weight than anything else in the campers’ lives throughout the rest of the year. There is a spirit here – a trust that forms through intentional reflection, building the new labyrinth from scratch, trekking up to the fire pit for an amazing view and an even more amazing variety show, tie-dying fresh white t-shirts and dancing to Toto’s Africa surrounded by glow sticks and string lights.

There is beauty in the intricate, organic support systems that evolve from the moment one steps foot on Yunasa West’s ochre soil. Homesickness is overcome by a high-five or an invitation to join one in a game of ninja; the challenge course doesn’t seem quite as daunting when you have five friends cheering, “You got this! Keep going!”; it doesn’t matter that no fish were caught over a span of four days. (Talking about Harry Potter during the futile hour-long fishing excursion was far more interesting than any snagged trout would have been, anyway.)

Oh, to be a Yunasa camper! And to stop by woods – lovely, [light] and deep – for a week on end. Deadlines or not, I need to walk through the woods more often. This shall be my promise to keep.

If you’ve been to a Yunasa camp, what is your favorite memory?

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Mark Erlandson, the parent of a gifted student who presently attends a boarding school out East, is a former lawyer and public high school English teacher from Wisconsin starting a new business as a legal writing consultant.

Sad as it may be for some (including teachers), the summer is over, and a new school year looms. To make sure you start off the year right, here is some advice for students from a veteran teacher, although parents would do well to follow most of it too.

1. Reserve judgement.

Reserve judgment – about the teacher, about the class, about the curriculum. Things rarely turn out to be as bad as they seem at the beginning. For example, generations of teachers have been taught to start the year off being strict and then loosen up over time. It’s a lot easier to keep control doing it that way.

2. Give me a chance.

Wait a couple weeks before approaching me about changing my curriculum or policies. First of all, there is so much work for me to do to start the year – from filling out forms to making seating charts to decorating my room to learning names of students – that I am overwhelmed and stressed out. Let me settle in. (Also see #1 above.)

3. Do your homework.

No, I don’t mean the daily or weekly assignments that you are already doing. You know that. What I mean is that if you want me to let you out of an assignment or give you an opportunity to complete an alternative assignment, know the following before you approach me:

• Is it practice or evidence? Practice means you are doing it to prepare to master a subject or skill; evidence means I am using it to assess whether you have mastered it (and then putting a grade in the gradebook). I have much more leeway with practice than I do with evidence;
• What is the goal or objective of that part of my curriculum? Nowadays, that usually is tied in some way to a . Often it is explained as a “learning intention” or “learning target” at the beginning of a unit or a daily lesson. Ironically, the standardization of the curriculum through the CCSS actually allows me more freedom to personalize assignments as long as the standard’s content or skill is covered;
• What you would suggest as the lesson’s alternative? Don’t leave it up to me to brainstorm another way of meeting the standard. I already did, and what I came up with is what you are trying to get away from doing. I may know some alternative suggestions to give you, but you are much more likely to get what you want if you already have a plan when you approach me;
• What would you suggest as a rubric? Most assignments/assessments require that I use a scoring guide to grade. Can we use the same one that is being used for the original assignment/assessment? Tweak it somehow? Think about this ahead of time and be prepared to offer a new one if necessary.

4. Try to look at it from my side.

Unfortunately, this world is not ideal. I have a boss (actually bosses), and whether the assistant principal, the principal, the school superintendent or the school board, they all make various demands of me that limit what I can do for you. Also I have limited time and resources. I have a life. In a perfect world, I would be able to meet all of your demands and expectations. Unfortunately we live in this one. Try not to take it personally.

5. Don’t hate me.

It is very possible that we may not get along together. Sometimes personalities clash. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you or will grade you harder than someone else. Before you try to get out of my class or give up trying in class because you don’t like me, realize that life, or the real world, will require you to work with peers, bosses, clients, or customers who you may not like but have to deal with anyway. Start working on those skills. Try some of the following:

• Talk to your classmates about your feelings and ask them for tips on how they get along with the teacher;
• Meet with the teacher and voice your feelings, e.g., “I feel like you are annoyed when I ask extra questions. Is there another way you want me to do that?”;
• Meet with a guidance counselor. He/she may be able to offer advice and tips on how to get along with that particular teacher or how to get along with teachers in general;
• Focus on the subject, not the teacher. We can learn a lot about a subject from a knowledgeable teacher we dislike. Pay attention to the message and not the messenger.
• Finally, if all else fails, and you still think your learning is being negatively affected by your relationship with the teacher, then let your parents take the next step and contact the teacher.

6. Be a person, not just a student.

By that, I mean say “Hi” to me, make eye contact with me whether in the classroom or in the hallway when we pass, maybe ask me about my weekend some time before class or how I am doing today. I am a person too, and sometimes it’s lonely being a teacher.

Have any of these tips been particularly helpful? What other tips do you have to help students start the school year off right? Please share in the comment section below.

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In case you missed any of these, we wanted to take this opportunity to share the five most popular posts from the last year:

1. 
   The lovable title character in Roald Dahl’s Matilda is a precocious young girl who can teach the world a lot about gifted kids.
2. 
   In this day and age of technology, more and more web-based resources are becoming available at our fingertips. Here are some great online educational resources.
3. 
   Lisa is a mother with a dilemma: “Every time I support my daughter’s need to look beautiful, I go through mental gymnastics.”
4. 
   “There is a right way to approach your school work and a wrong way,” Lisa says. “But this isn’t a story about getting my son to do his homework the right way. This is about learning to accept his way.”
5. 
   Is an aspiring Ph.D. in the sciences better served by an undergraduate education at a liberal arts college or a research university? Certified College Counselor Kate Duey explores this topic.

And, as an honorable mention, the most popular post in our Many Faces of Gifted series: ! Before Arden was six years old, he had already been interviewed by the Los Angeles Times, met Al Gore, been featured on Jimmy Kimmel Live twice, and received a personal letter of encouragement from Bill Clinton.

We are so glad that you have found this blog helpful, and we look forward to continuing to provide you with valuable resources and information.

Please remember that this blog is for you, and we want to share what you want to see. We always .

Here’s to a great third year!

Which post has been your favorite? We’d love to know. Please share in the comment section below.

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photo credit: via

Lisa is the mother of 3 gifted children and lives outside of San Francisco.

There is a right way to approach your school work and a wrong way. The right way is to plan ahead, break the project down into manageable pieces, allow enough time to proofread and edit your work and make sure the final work product looks good. The wrong way is to wait to begin until the night before the project is due, handwrite it (neatly at first, and nearly illegibly by the end) on the pages of a notebook and stay up all night completing it. My middle son took the second approach. But this isn’t a story about getting my son to do his homework the right way. This is about learning to accept his way.

To properly tell the story of my son’s “wrong way” project, I have to go back to the spring, when I attended the with my son. All of the attendees completed a Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) and learned about their personality types and their underlying characteristics. The facilitator asked the parents and students to line up on various sides of the conference room to join others with the same “type”. For the most part, my son and I were on the opposite sides of the room (no surprise). Most of our differences I understood, except one: how we deal with the outside world. I am a “judging” type. He is a “perceiving” type. This difference turns out to be a big one for us. Judging types like to plan and prefer an orderly life. Perceiving types are flexible and open to new experiences. Perceivers are enervated by deadlines. They take in information until the last minute and then complete their work in a burst of energy. Once I realized that my son was not going to share my love of lists and schedules, I stopped monitoring his work habits. I gave up on encouraging him to complete his school work in the right way.

The way my son completed his final project for his English class embodied his perceiving nature. The prompt for the project was “What is your American Voice?” My son decided to write his memoir. It would be in the form of a diary, written in a journal. He chose to write it in a red leather journal he purchased on a family vacation in France. He began the project the evening before it was due. He completed the 86 page memoir during his study hall, an hour before his English class.

My son was anxious about revealing so much of himself in a school project, so he sent his teacher an email expressing his concern. After reading my son’s work, the teacher emailed him back, and this is what he said:

It’s lovely, really…Your book is remarkably well-written for someone who just sat down and started writing. I guess writing isn’t ALWAYS rewriting. You have a natural gift for storytelling.

In this instance his natural work style worked for him. This is often the case. His rapid intellectual processing, long attention span and excellent memory allow him to produce quality work in a condensed period of time. There are instances, however, when his last minute burst of energy and inspiration isn’t enough. Last week he started running with the cross country team after not running all summer. On the third day, he injured his knee. His body was telling him what his English teacher did not: some tasks require the slow and steady approach.

My husband talked with my son and tried to make the connection between his preferred way of doing things and the possible consequences of his work style. His English project worked out because he is a good writer and he spent weeks crafting the story in his head. He likes to immerse himself in a burst of creative concentration. He also knew the teacher well. His knee reminded him that he cannot always be successful doing what is most natural for him. Running, like other skills (for example, music and foreign languages), require steady and persistent effort.

Last spring at the CDB Seminar I learned that there was a whole group of people who share what I initially thought was the wrong way of doing things. And it works for them, most of the time. Understanding this helped me let go of the need to organize, schedule and generally oversee my son’s life. It also helped my son identify his default work style. Over time, he will need to discover when his work style works for him and when it doesn’t so that he can be conscious about the need to modify it when circumstances require. I’m not really sure I can help him with this. As flexible as he thinks he is, he’s not really interested in trying things my way. In the meantime, I’m hoping that any further insights he may gain will not involve a visit to the emergency room.