Flash Cards

We are learning our times tables for the last time.

Parenting evolves. I first flipped through math facts with my daughter a few years ago. We drove to a fancy suburban store dedicated to educational aids, where I bought the spiffy laminated flash cards recommended by other hovering parents. (Despite living in the era of peak TV, we can no longer count on Schoolhouse Rock to do the job.)

The next time through multiplication, I inventoried our missing flash cards and made a few replacements out of durable cardstock. They had all disappeared by the time we moved to Bellingham.

This time around I wrote with a Sharpie, on cheap notecards bought in bulk. But first I consulted with my son’s teacher about flash card strategy. We started with the comforting times tables – 1, 2, 3, 5, 10 – and gradually added new numbers as Oliver’s confidence and accuracy improved.

As I’ve previously described, Daniel Kahneman’s book Thinking, Fast and Slow explains how our brains rely on two contrasting mental processing systems, which I've referred to as Thing 1 and Thing 2. Thing 1 is fast and automatic, multi-tasking as it retrieves memories and generates intuitions. In contrast, Thing 2 allocates our brains’ limited conscious attention to effortful mental tasks.

I can see both Thing 1 and Thing 2 at work as I flip through flash cards with Oliver. Most of the time he retrieves the answers automatically. Even if he doesn’t respond immediately, he’ll still figure out the correct answer eventually – but I get to watch him as he counts on his fingers and mutters under his breath, or asks me to remind me of his recent answer to a similar problem. Over time, more and more functions become automated by Thing 1, and he no longer requires Thing 2 to intervene.

When my daughters finished up their multiplication flash cards a few years ago, I watched them struggle to master the same last few stragglers – 6 x 9, 7 x 8, etc. I realized these were the same functions I had to stop and think about myself. I don’t know if they never stuck, faded over time, or were replaced with something more useful. But now that I’ve learned more about how the brain works, Thing 2 and I have accepted the limits of my own Thing 1.  

Letting off steam

This week I heard complaints about the blog from two loyal readers.

The first (and younger) critic said the posts had all gotten too long. I went back and crunched the numbers, and we have indeed gone from average lengths of 770 and 1,260 words each in May and June, to 1,972 and 1,239 in November and December. Looking at blog traffic statistics, I also realized most people read on tiny phones. 

The second reader said she had no objection to thoughtful pieces about brains, books, and authoritarianism. But she misses the cute anecdotes about single gay dad life I used to post on Facebook more regularly.

Ever the accommodating codependent, I agreed to publish more short notes. Starting with my recent post about the various Star Wars Life Lessons I’ve picked up from forty years of faithful movie attendance. 

You should still expect a couple of more substantial posts to pour out most weeks. Longer essays generally need extra time to percolate.¹ But it’s hard to predict when each will build up enough of a head of steam to propel a final draft to the obviously inept copy editor.²

¹I’ve settled on hydraulic flow as the primary metaphor both for the writing process and for writer’s block. (My favorite author’s farming analogy wasn’t working.) But let’s save that story for later.

²Fortunately, the real editor will wander by to fix everything eventually – but not until after the piece is already published. Anyone with a low tolerance for typos should check back after a couple of hours before reading anything new. [Ed. note: we recommend weak readers wait 24 hours. At least.]

Other essays from "Roger On Writing":

"Watch for Quiet Explosions"  (10/15/19)
“Blaming the Children”  (9/21/18)

“Lilies That Fester”  (3/25/18)

“Steam Heat”  (3/19/18)

“Super Fuzzy Things”  (9/8/17)

“Dear Reader”   (7/22/17)

Star Wars Life Lessons

1977 Star Wars aka A New Hope 

"I am a Frustrated Idealist."  (INFP, obviously. Luke is the hero.)

1980  The Empire Strikes Back

"Everything is more complicated than you thought." 

1983  Return of the Jedi

"Go ahead, dude, delude yourself. But you know you’re settling."

1999  The Phantom Menace

"Life is a series of soul-crushing disappointments. With the rare and guilty pleasure of a fun speedster race."

2002  Attack of the Clones

"I am codependent. Just like a moth drawn to a flame, or Charlie Brown to Lucy's proffered football, I never give up hope that this time is different and life won't bring another soul-crushing disappointment."

2005  Revenge of the Sith

"But I also have PTSD. So I'm blessed with no memories whatsoever of either traumatic encounter."

2015  The Force Awakens

"I am such a dad." 

2016  Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

"I realize good stories may turn out to be tragedies."

2017  The Last Jedi

"I am an amazingly well-adjusted failure."