And I realized that I don’t follow all my Facebook friends on Twitter. I had a few minutes tonight so I thought I’d bop on over to Twitter to fix that.

I got there and found the “Find Friends” link.  There is a short list of services from which you can choose to import contacts.  You know who’s not on the list?  Facebook.

So, here’s a quick-and-dirty workaround.

You’ll need:

• A Yahoo! Mail account
• A Facebook account (with friends)
• About 5 minutes (if that)

Here’s what you do:

1. Go to your Yahoo! Mail contacts page.
2. Click the “Import Contacts” button.
3. Click “Facebook”.
4. Click “Okay”, when it asks if you want to share with Yahoo!.
5. Yahoo! Mail will import your Facebook contacts.
6. Click the checkbox to select all of your contacts.
7. IMPORTANT:  Click “Assign to Lists” – either create a new list or add to an existing list.*
8. Go to the Find Friends page on Twitter.com.
9. Click “Search Contacts” next to Yahoo!
10. Click “Agree” to allow Twitter to access your Yahoo! Mail contacts.
11. Pick and choose who to follow.

Hope this helps you out!  Feel free to comment if you have any questions.

* If you don’t do this, Twitter will not detect any contacts from your Yahoo! Mail account.  This is because Yahoo! marks all Facebook contacts as such and does not allow them to be exported until they’ve been modified in some way.

Thanks for addressing this issue.  Your letter is an example of the kind of straightforward, honest dialog parents need to be having with their children’s educators.

I found a lot to agree with in your article.  ”Helicopter parenting”, making excuses for our children, attorneys at parent-teacher meetings (really?!) all need to go.

And I loved this sentence:

“This one may be hard to accept, but you shouldn’t assume that because your child makes straight A’s that he/she is getting a good education.”

Totally agree.  Parents need to evaluate their child’s progress independent of grades, as much as possible.

But you said a few things that sound less like partnership and more like continued schism between parent and teacher.  For example, this statement:

“If we give you advice, don’t fight it. Take it, and digest it in the same way you would consider advice from a doctor or lawyer.”

Not going to happen.  I expect my doctor or lawyer to tell me what’s causing my problem and how to fix it.  Plus, they’ve studied/practiced medicine or law for many more years than I have.

And I know teachers have studied/practiced education for many years.  Here’s the difference:  I’ve known my own kid for many years.  To your point, I don’t know them in the context of a classroom with other kids but to say I should take your advice like I would advice from a doctor or lawyer is going too far.

Plus, it contradicts your idea of partnering.  I don’t bring much to my doctor or lawyer except complaints.  With my child’s educator, however, we both bring something to the table and that is knowledge about my child in different contexts.  By coming together, we can paint a more complete picture of him and come to a better understanding of his behavior and needs.

Next, this part:

“At times when I tell parents that their child has been a behavior problem, I can almost see the hairs rise on their backs.”

I  agree it would be best if, instead of being defensive, we just listened to your perspective, sincerely considered it and made adjustments where we see fit.

But come on.  These are our children.  At home, they make us laugh and chase us with train tracks for swords and let us tickle them and, sometimes, when we’re very lucky, they whisper, “I love you, Daddy.”  Can’t you at least understand that when you tell us our son is under-performing or talking too much or, heaven forbid, cheating, our first reaction isn’t one of passive acceptance?

We’re not reacting to you but to the message.  You can help us by being understanding and patient with us.  That way, we know we can trust you when the emotions have dissipated.  Then, with your support in the classroom, we’ll provide the necessary structure and discipline to make positive changes in his understanding and behavior.

Oh, and about your pet peeve (“Is that true?”)  We’re not asking him to confirm the verity of your statement.  We’re asking him so we can hear him admit his mistake in front of you.  It makes it easier for us to discipline him later on.

Mr. Clark, there are good parents out there who want to partner with their child’s educator to maximize the educational opportunity of their children.  I hope when you meet new parents, you give them the benefit of the doubt and treat them like good, effective partners.  Not like misbehaving children…

I’ve been dealing with a similar issue for roughly the past 14 years.

On September 30, 1997, I boarded a plane from San Jose, CA to Houston, TX, ending a 2-year, full-time mission for my church.  I was sad to leave my mission but excited for what the future held.  I’m not saying those were the best two years of my life.  They weren’t.  Every year since then has been better than the one before it.

But since my mission, I’ve had about 17 jobs (part-time and full-time) and I haven’t enjoyed any one of them as much as I did my time as a missionary.

To be clear, I’m grateful for my career.  It has been such an amazing blessing I can hardly comprehend it.  It has allowed me to support my family temporally and spiritually, afforded me the privilege of associating with some amazing people and given me the opportunity to learn great things.

But not one of those jobs has made me as happy as my missionary service.

It’s not hard to see why.  The life of a missionary is comprised of four things:  working to help others (~11 hours/day), studying the gospel (~2 hours/day), meals/hygiene/etc. (~3 hours/day) and sleep (~8 hours/day).  Almost a full 50% of the day is spent putting all your time and energy into finding ways to improve the lives of specific people around you.

Over the course of my two years, I helped people quit alcohol and drugs, helped couples turn around their marriages, taught children to read or speak English, sang songs in a nursing home, mowed lawns, did construction work and did countless other acts of service.  And I’m not saying that to boast; every missionary does it.  That’s the nature of a mission.

Which is exactly the problem with my career thus far.  That’s NOT the nature of any of the jobs I’ve had since my mission.

This leads me to my dilemma:  my first priority is supporting my family but every day I can’t help but think I could be using my time more effectively (i.e., in a way that makes more of a positive impact on the world.)

Which brings me back to the story at the beginning.  After Joseph said the prayer, what happened?  Well, they ate their johnnycake together and, just as they were finishing, there was a knock at the door.  Joseph opened it to a brother holding a turkey saying he’d felt impressed to bring it to the Prophet’s house.

I know prayers are answered and I’m sure somewhere out there, there’s somebody with a turkey with my name on it, looking for my house.

But I can’t believe I’m alone in this.  Have any of you had feelings like this and, if so, what did you do about it?

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On the first Sunday of every month (with rare but regular exceptions), we LDS folk change our routine up a bit.  Instead of the normal 35 minutes of talks from pre-selected members of the congregation, we leave the time open for anybody to come up and share a particularly uplifting thought.  Anybody can come up and say just about anything.

These are typically the most uplifting and inspiring meetings and I look forward to them every month.  Lately, so does my oldest son (4 yrs old), Bubbers.  For the past couple of months, he has requested (alright, begged) that we let him go up and bear his testimony.  After a few practices, we decided he was ready today.  He knew what he wanted to say and he knew how to say it.

The Backstory

About a year ago, I was pushing our youngest, Scooters, around the church for his morning nap.  I could hear the people speaking over the PA system in the hall.  After completing a circuit around the building, I heard Heidi’s voice piping through the system.  I knew she was bearing her testimony.  Knowing she was alone with Bubbers, I peeked in to see who she had watching him while she was up on the stand.  To my surprise, Bubbers was now at the microphone, repeating what Heidi told him.

I had very mixed emotions, frankly.  I was very proud that he wanted to be up there but I also know the Church issued a guideline a few years ago that anybody who bears their testimony should be able to do so on their own.  You’ll find out why in a few paragraphs.

Scream 4…Year-Old

When we arrived at church, Bubbers was SO excited!  Every five minutes he kept asking if it was his turn.  When a young woman went up to receive her Primary graduation, he asked if it was his turn.  When our bishopric counselor sat down after announcements, he asked if it was his turn.  For the 10th time, we told him his turn would come after the Sacrament.  He waited as patiently as he could.

Finally, his turn came.  And though he started off very well, (got the stepstool by himself, stayed the right distance from the microphone) he got a little overwhelmed by seeing 250 people staring back at him.  And then he went from uplifting to silly.

I tried to help him out but he was unable to focus and I ended up having to take him screaming from the stand, out stage left.

The Cooldown

We exited the building and walked around the woods outside for a bit.  He calmed down and we talked about what happend, how he was scared because of all the people, etc.  I explained that testimony meeting was for uplifting others, not being silly or making them laugh.

The funny thing was, he insisted the entire time that he wanted to go back and try again.  That he liked bearing his testimony and wanted to do it again, today.  I told him it would probably be a long time before he could try again in Sacrament Meeting but that he’d have chances in Primary.  This was unacceptable but we agreed to table the issue. 

Why I’m Proud of Him

Later on, when he was in bed for his afternoon nap, I told him I wanted to talk about what happened.  I told him he did at least three things I was proud of:

• He wanted to bear his testimony.  I had a hard time with that for so long and I really don’t want him to lose that.
• He didn’t run away when he was scared.  He tried to push through, even though he forgot what he wanted to say.
• He wanted to try again to do something that scared him.  This was huge to me and I take my hat off to the kid.  He wanted to face those same 250 people again with the attitude of “I can do it myself.”  Good for you, kid.  You must get that from your Mom.

I must have laid it on a little thick because he kept asking me to “say more things about today!” 

I told Heidi later on that I want to teach Bubbers that he should be failing regularly, because he’s trying new things.  I hope he’s comfortable being uncomfortable and willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish his goal.

Somehow, it already seems like he’s on his way.

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Over the past while, I’ve been stewing over an idea for a novel.  I’m fascinated by it but I wonder if anybody else is.  Some close friends have said they find it interesting but I’d like to get the opinion of a wider audience.  If you wouldn’t mind, would you read the synopsis below and vote “Yes” or “No” if you think it sounds interesting to you?  Thanks!

Synopsis

Set at Stanford University in the early 70s, a young man and woman (she’s an undergrad, he’s a grad student) find themselves in love.  She’s a Mormon and he’s a Muslim.  As they go through their relationship and some unique and challenging complications, we see how both religions can alternately be used to solve problems, uplift and comfort as well as ostracize, humiliate and even terrorize.  We also explore the similarities shared between these two seemingly opposing religions.  Ultimately, we find that with a loving family and devotion to living principles that bring one closer to God, any challenge can be overcome, even ones caused by those closest to us.

Let’s get to work, people…

Individuals with multiple tattoos covering large parts of their bodies are at higher risk of contracting the disease [hepatits C] from unsterilized equipment than those with less body art.

I’m reading a great book right now called “Is God A Mathematician?” by Mario Livio.  It’s a fascinating book about whether mathematics is discovered or invented.  It’s a really interesting book (so far) and has really gotten me excited about math, again.

It got me thinking about how I was taught math and why I disliked math so much.  I remembered some of the things I learned and, for whatever reason, focused on the formula for the area of a circle:  (A = ?r²).

What I asked myself was, “why is that the formula of a circle?  Why, if you multiply the radius times itself and then times pi, some constant, do you get the area of the circle?”  After digging into this, I realized why I didn’t like math in school.

Pi

Pi is a constant, meaning the number never changes.  But, as I learned reading this book, it represents something.  Pi is equal to the ratio of the circumference (C) of a circle to its diameter (D).  No matter what the size of the circle, this ratio is always the same, 3.14159…it goes on, literally, forever.

I never knew that!  Well, to be fair, maybe I did and just forgot.  But I certainly didn’t remember it.  That’s really interesting.  But what does that do for our formula?

Maybe we can substitute (C/D) for pi into our formula to help it make more sense?

Area of a Circle

Now the formula for the area of a circle is A = (C/D) r².  Well, the diameter of a circle is twice the radius, right?  If we substitute 2r for D, we get A = (C/2r) r².  We can cancel out the r in 2r because of r² on top, and we’re left with A = (C/2)r.

The area of a circle is equal to its circumference times its radius, divided by 2.

But, does this make sense?  Kind of.  Here’s how I understand it.  Take a circle, like this one:

Now, let’s show the radius:

The radius has a length of r (of course) and a width of 1 unit.  If we show the radius x times, it might look like this:

The formula, again, says we should show the radius C/2 times, though, right?  (C/2) * r means show r (C/2) times:

Now, here’s where it breaks down for me.  Doesn’t that just give you half the area?  Why divide by 2?  Isn’t this what we’re looking for?

Anyway, the point is this:  this formula (C/2)r makes so much more intuitive sense to me.  To understand the area, just draw the radius as many times as the circumference is long.  Pretty soon, you’ll fill up the circle.  Count the number of radii you had to draw to get there, multiply by the length of the radius and you’ve got the area.  In that sense, it’s no different from the area of a square.

Back to Teaching

Which brings me to my point.  When we teach math, why aren’t we teaching this way?  The way I learned math (rote memorization and application) only taught me to memorize.  When it came to word problems, I was abysmal because I didn’t know why I should be using which formula.

I suspect that same problem is found in every subject.  My goal is to help my kids learn to find out why what they’re doing works.  I want them to understand the mechanics and inner workings of everything they do so they can manipulate it, change it and use it anyway they need to, in order to solve whatever problem they’re having.

What do you think?  Is this a worthwhile endeavor or just unnecessarily confusing?

“Mothers, cherish that role that is so uniquely yours and for which heaven itself sends angels to watch over you and your little ones. Yours is the work of salvation, and therefore you will be magnified, compensated, made more than you are, better than you are, and better than you have ever been.”

Read the full text here.

But I draw the line at hurting people who are genuinely doing their best.

The post tackled the very sensitive subject of mothers working while raising children. I don’t feel I gave the proper context around my opinions and beliefs and a close friend told me the post hurt her feelings. I spent a good deal of time thinking about it and talking it over with Heidi. In the end, I decided to take it down and give myself some time to think about how I wanted to approach this subject that I feel very strongly about.

Instead of tackling just the subject of working mothers, I’ll step back a little and start with a broader context: families. Because my opinion on mothers working stems from my feelings about the family.

Okay, down to brass tacks. Why do I think families are so important?

It comes down to the nature of God and why we were created. God is perfect. According to the original Greek, “perfect” in the New Testament means whole or complete. In other words, there’s nowhere for Heavenly Father, personally, to go. He’s become the pinnacle of all that is good and righteous. He’s done.

Why then, does He exist?

According to Moses 1:39, He exists now to create children and give them the opportunity to become like He is:

“For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.”

To Mormons, immortality means living forever, a free gift brought about by the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Eternal life is living forever with God and becoming like Him. This is not a free gift but something that requires our best efforts in combination with the atonement of Jesus Christ.

In other words, God exists to help us become like Him.

This answers the question, “Why did we come to Earth?” We came because we needed to in order to become like God. We had to gain a body and go through the experience of living a faithful life out of God’s constant and immediate presence. There’s no other way to become like God. We had to come here.

To summarize, God exists to help us become like Him and we are here on Earth to gain the experience necessary to become like Him.

But what about the family? Why is that such a big deal?

The answer is that as parents, God is entrusting us with the training up of His precious children.

Remember, God only exists for one reason: to help us return to and become like Him. There is literally nothing more important, in all of eternity, than that one thing. And part of that training process, at least for some of us, is to learn, in a living laboratory, how to raise up a righteous, eternal family unto Him. Not to mention the precious souls who are depending on us for their early training.

Do you see why Satan would attack the family so vociferously? If he can distract a father with pornography, he’s destroyed the power of the priesthood in that home, removed the possibility of the Sprit influencing a full half of the parental team and virtually guaranteed that the children won’t have the best possible chance at exaltation.

If Satan can cause parents to take their eye off the goal (exaltation for their family) and become distracted by jobs, cars, boats, TV, internet and other things, he can open the door for the kids to be influenced by people who not only don’t have their eye on the goal but perhaps are fighting against the goal, knowingly or otherwise.

Why is the family so important?

Because that’s where gods are made. Because that’s where faith in Jesus Christ, essential to exaltation, is learned and exercised. Because our children came to us, trusting us to guide them to eternity.

That’s why the family is important to me.

I hope this point-of-view will help you understand where I’m coming from as I talk more about issues I think are important.  I hope you’ll share your thoughts and feelings, too.