When I decided to blog today, I realized just how long it's been since I've done so and just how many thoughts I've had building up over the past two months that I want to share. And I'll share those with you someday, maybe one day next week. Today, however, I feel like I need to talk about two people that we lost this past weekend. At the beginning of this semester here at NYU, I sat down in my fifth class of my first day ready to learn about Statistics. My professor, rather than giving us an overview of the topics we would be learning, decided to go for the intimidation factor and proceeded to sternly tell us that his course would not be easy and that he didn't care if we failed or not. Somehow his rant turned to the topic of good teaching and bad teaching, and he made the statement, "There is no such thing as a good teacher." I don't think I've ever been more infuriated in my life. It's true that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. In this case, I choose to have the opinion that this opinion is wrong. What are my reasons? I could give you several, but instead I'll focus on one: Dr. James Aldridge.
The truth is I never had Dr. Aldridge as a teacher (as someone who struggled with science, I opted not to take Honors Chemistry as a sophomore and avoided any serious science electives my junior and senior years). In fact, the time I spent in his room over my entire high school career would probably accumulate to no more than an hour. Some might argue that, with these facts being what they are, I have no right speaking about a man I hardly knew. Perhaps they would be right. What I think is amazing, however, is that Dr. Aldridge still managed to have the impact on me that he did despite these facts. I can tell you with absolute certainty that Dr. Aldridge was a man who was passionate about knowledge: gaining it himself, and helping others to do so. On more than one occasion and in more than one class of more than one subject, I remember a student in my class asking the teacher a question, and their response being something along the lines of, "I don't know, why don't we ask Dr. A?" There's a reason that there is the theory that the "Dr. A" listed as the Top Answerer on one of those wiki-answer sites is our Dr. A (now that I'm trying to find it, I can't, but I promise it existed at one point or another). Just from observing Dr. Aldridge, it was obvious not just how intelligent the man was, but how cool he was. Maybe it was a combination of the deep voice, the navy lab coat, and the way he sauntered down the hallway, smiling at everyone who passed. My favorite thing about Dr. Aldridge, however, was the first thing I ever saw walking past his room: a ginormous poster of Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Despite the fact that I hadn't yet seen the film the first time I saw that poster hanging there, I knew right away it was significant. Years later, John Hughes' masterpiece has come to mean more to me than it probably should to someone my age. Of the many reasons I love the film, I'm grateful that one of them is that it was fully appreciated by one of the smartest men I ever met. Maybe that's silly, but I'm going to grasp on to that connection as it's one of few that I have. Looking back, is it not incredible that a man who never taught me a day in his life ended up teaching me just how important it is to value your education and to never stop gaining knowledge? Also, that 80s films are an extremely important part of life? I'm being completely serious. That's not just a good teacher, but a great one if ever such a thing existed (they do).
It pains me to say that we lost a beautiful, young member of my extended family early Sunday morning: Dakota Twiss. Dakota, along with her sister Jaquoy, became my cousins* a few years back when her dad, Beau, married my cousin Kodi (* I realize that's not technically the correct term, but I've considered them that since the day I met them and I always will). As the last biological granddaughter of my Grandma and Grandpa Skinner, I was excited to have more girls near my age in the family. I didn't know Dakota as well as I could have, and there's nothing I regret more in my life at this moment than not getting to know her better. What I can tell you, however, is that I always looked up to Dakota. At every family reunion, I would watch in awe as she helped out her mom and took care of her younger siblings, Gunner and Hunter. She was the best big sister, and I learned so much by just watching her be herself. Her spirit was so strong. I doesn't make any sense that someone at the young age of 18 had to leave this world so soon, and it never will, at least not in this life. Heavenly Father has given us the tools to help ease the pain, however, and those are his son, Jesus Christ, and his atonement. It's through Christ's atonement that I know that one day Dakota and her family will be reunited, and I'm so thankful for that knowledge.
It's during times such as these that being away from home is as hard as it gets. My thoughts and prayers go out to the members of the Fort Worth Country Day community and my Hess and Skinner Family members. I feel like the following words will have less meaning when I am so physically removed, but I will be as "there" as I can be to anyone who needs anything.
All the love in my heart, Madilyn
In memory of Dakota:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=DFeXEVUpYvI&app=desktop]
And for Dr. Aldridge, here is my favorite scene in Ferris Bueller. I hope you're dancing up there in heaven. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RaIjYvIayj0]