James Potter being the first of the Marauders to realize that Remus is still their friend, as Sirius would be conflicted over his parents’ beliefs and Peter would be conflicted over fear.
James Potter sneaking down to the library at night beneath his invisibility cloak to do research on lycanthropy.
James Potter trying to act nonchalant but secretly fussing and worrying during the week leading up to the full moon.
James Potter convincing Madam Pomfrey to teach him first-aid so that he’ll always be prepared to help Remus after the full moon.
James Potter staying up on the night of the full moon (in the years before he was an Animagus) sitting on the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall so that he can be nearby in case something goes wrong.
James Potter being caught by Filch but surprisingly not getting in trouble when he is taken to Professor McGonagall’s office and instead being told that she will make an extreme exception and allow him to remain in the Entrance Hall, so long as he doesn’t go outside.
James Potter falling asleep in class the next morning but not being reprimanded by any of the professors.
James Potter making up wild stories when asked why Remus looks so fragile/injured. These stories range from Remus fighting off the giant squid to fighting off Voldemort himself.
James Potter hexing anyone who laughs at Remus’ scars.
James Potter keeping an extra stash of potions/herbs/medicines in his bag in case Remus ever needs them.
James Potter using the term ‘furry little problem’ in public.
James Potter yelling at Remus for two hours the first time Remus refuses to ask a girl out because he doesn’t want to hurt her.
James Potter secretly donating a large amount of money to charities that help werewolves.
James Potter spending hours learning how to become an Animagus, risking his health and a life in Azkaban in the process.
James Potter assuring Remus that being a Marauder is definitely more interesting than being a werewolf and honestly he doesn’t know why Remus gets so dramatic all the time.
James Potter willing to make an Unforgivable Vow to never tell anyone about Remus’ lycanthropy without his permission and though the vow never occurs, the mere suggestion of it shows Remus how far James is willing to go to keep the secret.
James Potter doing all of the above in secret while also spending a majority of his time getting the top marks in the class, running around with the other Marauders and causing mayhem and mischief, playing Quidditch, worrying about growing up in a world where war is right outside the Hogwarts’ boundaries, forming a crush on Lily, having a few other crushes and heartbreaks along the way, and going through the turmoils that any other teenager goes through.
But most of all…James Potter being a three-dimensional character who certainly has flaws but also has great moments, like when he supports someone who is like a brother to him, thus proving that he’s not a one-dimensional jerk.
I grew up in East Oakland, California, as the youngest son of Teochew-Vietnamese immigrants. School was always easy for me — I never really felt challenged throughout elementary school. Amid the droves of teacher strikes and substitutes, the truly dedicated teachers of Oakland’s Maxwell Park Elementary School were few and far between.
But in fifth grade, I was fortunate enough to be taught by Mrs. Harris, who changed my life forever. On weekends, Mrs. Harris invited students to her house for lunch. Using her own money, she gave away trinkets to those who did well on assignments.
And during a parent-teacher conference, she did something unthinkable and so incredible that I didn’t fully comprehend its impact until years later. She begged my parents to have me apply to private middle schools to get me out of the failing Oakland public schools.
My parents, who don’t speak much English, did not understand what was happening. They didn’t know what a private school was, let alone why anyone would pay for school when there was free public education. Neither graduated from high school before fleeing from Vietnam to America with my eldest brother in tow. While they valued education for their children, they thought of education as uniform and binary — you either went to school or you didn’t. And as long as their kids went to school, that was good enough.
If it had been up to my parents, nothing would have happened. But Mrs. Harris was hell-bent on making sure that I would have this opportunity for a better education. Every day, she would ask me, “So have you started applying yet?” “Did your parents look into Head-Royce yet?”
After weeks of hounding my parents, Mrs. Harris, my brother, and most of my 16 aunts and uncles managed to convince my parents to look into this private school idea. Thanks to their efforts, I ended up applying to the prestigious Head-Royce School in Oakland, taking the admissions test, and getting accepted.
But I didn’t attend. Instead, I ended up going to the local public middle school because my parents and I had failed to turn in the financial aid forms before the deadline. It took a village to push my parents to apply to Head-Royce, but there wasn’t anyone around to help us with something as mundane yet essential as filling out the financial aid forms on time. There probably were people who could have helped us, but my parents didn’t want to bother anyone by asking for help. That was their immigrant mindset: You shut up, work hard, and definitely don’t burden others.
I got a voicemail from the head of admissions at Head-Royce, asking if I still wanted to enroll despite the lack of financial aid. Growing up, I never really thought that we were poor, or at least I didn’t understand what that meant. The words “federally assisted lunch program” actually made me feel special since I got free lunches at school.
But once I found out that the school’s tuition cost more than my parents made in a year, I realized there was a world beyond what I had known. Before applying, I had no idea that Head-Royce or private schools even existed, but now that I had a window into that world, it felt like the window had been boarded over, shutting me out.
Here’s the crazy part — I internalized this whole process to mean that I wasn’t good enough for Head-Royce. I had taken a shot at the big leagues, trying to get into a better school, and I had been rejected. I wasn’t smart enough. I hadn’t worked hard enough. I wasn’t enough.
At first, my parents complained about the unfair system. However, soon after, both my parents and I took the closed door to mean that I wasn’t good enough, that I hadn’t scored high enough on the tests, that Head-Royce didn’t want me after all. If I had and if they did, they would have given me a scholarship. I felt awful and ashamed. I wasn’t good enough.
It’s a feeling that has persisted throughout my life, even as I attended an excellent college and started a successful company. It’s a feeling that many people like me — people who have fought their way out of poverty — struggle with. This is a problem we need to fix, and fast.
I really needed someone to believe in me
I might have given up on myself, but Mrs. Harris refused to give up on me. When she found out that I wasn’t going to Head-Royce, she went to work on a backup plan. We tried to get into a better public middle school in the wealthy part of Oakland, but nothing came of our efforts. Undeterred, Mrs. Harris contacted and pushed to get me into the Heads Up summer program, which offered free classes at Head-Royce for underserved kids.
During summer classes at Heads Up, I felt challenged academically for the first time ever and really started to love school. That newfound appreciation for education also rubbed off on my parents — they somehow saved up enough from their minimum wage jobs to pay for a math tutor whose house I went to twice a week that year. Mrs. Harris changed everything. I hope she’s reading this, since I don’t think I ever even said thank you. Thank you.
Those summer classes gave me hope during sixth grade, which ended up feeling like a lost year. I can’t remember any of the teachers’ names. I just have memories of the English teacher who the kids made cry and the substitute math teacher who yelled at me when I corrected him on how to do long division — never mind why a sixth-grade class was still being taught long division.
I applied again to Head-Royce, this time for seventh grade. We applied for financial aid as soon as it opened up and had several people check over the forms to make sure everything looked right. Thanks to the generosity of the Malone Family Foundation, I received a financial aid package that allowed me to attend the school.
Head-Royce felt like paradise. Everyone there was smart and loved to learn. The coursework was actually challenging. I loved it. Even so, I never felt like I fit in. I never, ever told anyone about what had happened when I had previously applied to Head-Royce — it remained a huge, shameful, dirty secret. I don’t think I ever got over that feeling that I wasn’t good enough, though it certainly motivated to me to work my butt off.
Years later, at Stanford, where a large percentage of the student body receives some financial aid, I maintained that internalized feeling of not belonging in this world, of not being good enough. I never talked about it. Not at Head-Royce. Not at Stanford.
Why the feeling of not being good enough haunts kids who grew up poor
Carlos is a smart, hard-working high school sophomore from a bad part of LA. He was fortunate enough to meet Eric Eisner, a former entertainment lawyer who founded a program called YES to help kids like Carlos get a scholarship to an elite private school. It sounds like he’s got his ticket out, but it’s never that simple. You don’t just leave behind where you came from because you get a scholarship to a good school.
Gladwell revisits a moment in Carlos’s life when his private school teachers were concerned that he didn’t play with the other kids during recess. It wasn’t due to a lack of friends, because he was usually very gregarious in the classroom. Nor was it due to him feeling self-conscious as the only Hispanic kid at the predominantly white school. Eisner found out: He literally couldn’t play because his shoes were three sizes too big and he couldn’t afford another pair.
Carlos had also been accepted to a prestigious boarding school but didn’t enroll because he didn’t want to leave his sister alone in foster care. He doesn’t like to talk about these things — in fact, he claims he doesn’t remember any of these incidents.
Carlos’s story highlights a problem that I’ve experienced but was never able to articulate. While scholarships are supposed to be an equalizer — and we as a society should continue to make education more affordable and scholarships available — the real battle underprivileged kids face can be much more insidious and intangible. My co-founder Ricky Yean touched on this battle in “Why it’s so hard to succeed in Silicon Valley when you grew up poor”:
Tangible inequalities — that which can be seen and measured, like money or access — get the majority of the attention, and deservedly so. But inequalities that live in your mind can keep the deck stacked against you long after you’ve made it out of the one-room apartment you shared with your dad. This is insidious, difficult-to-discuss, and takes a long essay to explain.
Being poor, you cannot afford to fuck up the opportunity that comes along
After listening to Gladwell’s podcast, I realized that both Ricky and I — any many others who’ve tried to escape poverty — are motivated by survival instinct. Once you see a way out, you become laser-focused on that opportunity. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a scholastic or sports scholarship, or a less traditional path. Being poor, you cannot afford to fuck up the opportunity that comes along.
You don’t take it for granted because you understand you’re playing by someone else’s rules. Even today, Ricky and I often feel like that. Given the long odds we beat to get here, sometimes in our heads, our world feels very fragile; at any moment, the clock could strike midnight. We’ve encouraged each other to talk more openly about these feelings, in an effort to strengthen and reinforce the reality of what we’ve built.
As Gladwell points out, it’s often only possible for poor kids like me to reach their potential when we have a champion who can not only show us the way but help carry us there. Mrs. Harris was that hero for me. She wasn’t a big-shot lawyer in this case; she was just a teacher who believed in me. She made opportunities happen for me, and she persisted when things hit unexpected roadblocks.
But not every kid is lucky enough to have a Mrs. Harris. Or an Eric Eisner. Remembering that and thinking about how many underprivileged kids must be experiencing this on a daily basis is why Carlos’s story brought me to tears.
We as a society need to do more to not only find these lost diamonds in the rough but dig them up, champion their cause, and push open doors for them — like Mrs. Harris did for me.
We always need more Mrs. Harrises and Eric Eisners, but this isn’t just a call for champions. I believe that in order to level the playing field for underprivileged, minority, or other disadvantaged groups, providing opportunities is not enough — we need to start talking openly about the differences in background, mindset, and opportunities that persist even after you attempt to level the field.
When discussing diversity, people often bring up the idea of a pipeline, where the focus is on bringing in as many qualified, underrepresented, or underprivileged candidates as possible. But perhaps we should start thinking about it as less of a pipeline and more of a leaky funnel.
The fact is when you grow up poor or disadvantaged, there are innumerable places where you might drop off before you have a chance at a better life. As Gladwell points out, many of the brightest students in Carlos’s hometown end up gang-affiliated as early as the eighth grade, long before free SAT prep courses, scholarships, and admissions officers can open up doors for them. We have to do more to ensure that the underserved know what opportunities are available to them and help them through every step of realizing those opportunities.
In the face of adversity, you have far fewer chances, a much smaller margin for error. The oversights and slights you internalize over the course of many, many years make the rare opportunities you find even rarer and leave you unable to capitalize on what’s left. If we want to start to spot and seal the cracks and leaks that leave people behind, we need to begin the dialogue on unseen inequalities and unexpected drop-offs.
To everyone who has experienced this— who has felt like they don’t belong or aren’t good enough — the world needs to hear your story. Only then can it begin to give current and future underdogs a better chance at a better life. And just remember: You are good enough. You do belong.
Many of you will likely remember playing the tabletop game Battleship as a kid. Karyn Tripp, who runs the homeschooling education site, Teach Beside Me,
used the basic format of the classic game to create a teaching aid for
the Periodic Table of Elements. Here’s Karyn explaining how to make the
game and how to play it:
How to Make a Periodic Table Battleship Game
To make the game, print out 4 copies of the Periodic Table.
I like the colored ones, but it isn’t necessary. I found a great one
from Science Notes. Then, along the left side of the table, I labeled
the rows alphabetically. They already have row numbers. I laminated mine
to make it re-usable. We used two file folders and hooked them together
at the top with a jumbo paperclip. Attach two of the periodic tables in
with that paper clip as well. Then lay the other two periodic tables
down on the table in the folder.
How to Play Periodic Table Battleship
The kids can then mark where they want to place their ships by
circling rows of 2, 3, 4, and 5 elements on the lower table. They play
by calling out coordinates. If they miss, they put an X on the spot they
chose on the upper table. If they get a hit, they circle it. They can
continue playing until one person sinks all of another person’s ships.
Karyn has gotten an enthusiastic response to her idea, but commenters
who are chemistry teachers have taken exception to the alphabetical
lettering of the rows and have made suggestions such as the following:
I am a chemistry teacher. Neat Idea, but please don’t use
letters on the side. The Periodic Table is numbered on the rows, too.
Just put those numbers (1,2,3,4, etc) if they are not there, remembering
that the bottom two rows are actually embedded in rows 5 and 6 where
the arrows pull them down to spread them out. The numbers at the top
should be 1A, 2A, 1B, 3B, etc. To get your students to learn the
periodic table, don’t just sink ships, eliminate groups. Have students
select one element in each group (they are labelled by color on the PT
itself). Students can call them by element symbol to start but they can
also use location “2-1A” or atomic number or mass number. If you get a
more sophisticated PT, it will have the melting point and a lot of other
properties as well.
You can see Karyn’s original post here, and if you’re a homeschooling parent, be sure to check out some of her other teaching materials and aids.
So let’s do a brief thought experiment type thing about American college tuition. I’ve heard more than one person tout the “I worked during the summer so I could pay for school” idea, and I find that hella interesting.
So let’s say you worked eight weeks (June 1-Aug 1) at minimum wage, 25 hours a week. “Why 25 hours a week,” you ask, “when full-time is 40 hours a week?” For one thing, I don’t think it’s fair to ask an 18 year old to graduate high school and immediately begin working full time at a minimum wage job in order to pursue an education to (presumably) avoid working full time at a minimum wage job. For another, it’s actually pretty fucking difficult to get full time hours at a minimum wage, entry level job — full time means benefits, so nearly all places would rather keep you just under the full time cut off. But I’ll run this math with both 25 hours, the reasonable projection, and 40 hours, the insane workaholic idealistic projection.
8 weeks x $7.25 x 25 hours = $1,450
8 weeks x $7.25 x 40 hours = $2,320
If our theory is that a high school graduate should be able to work over the summer and make enough to pay for college the next year, college should cost no more than $2,320 per year. That includes tuition, books, and class fees — I’ll give room and board a pass because I don’t think that’s a feasible adjustment to make at this point. TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS, PEOPLE. FOR A YEAR.
There are 168 hours in a week. If you worked literally all of those hours, which is obviously impossible both physically and financially, you would make $1,218. In a summer, you would make between $9.744 and $12,180 WHICH IS STILL. AT MANY SCHOOLS. LESS THAN A YEAR’S TUITION.
This is impossible. Just for comparison, LSU, my darling state university subsidized by the state which accepts state scholarships like TOPS, charges in-state residents about $8,700 a year in tuition and fees. Out of state residents pay $26,476 — again, only in tuition and fees, not books or living space or food (or parking, or the dozen other ways a university charges you money). Housing and food are an estimated $10,000 more per year.
I’ve been out of college for several years now, and I don’t regret having gone. I test exceptionally well, and my bachelor’s degree cost me no money; I actually made money off of scholarships and federal grants. Grad school brought in some student loans, but still, I am extremely fortunate in this country, and I know that. But my youngest sister is sixteen, and my stepsister has two children. College tuition and the incredibly fucked up market that is the American educational system don’t stop mattering when you graduate, or when I do. This is unacceptable, and it has to change.
British engraver and mapmaker, John Spilsbury, created the first
jigsaw puzzle in 1700 when he mounted a map on a sheet of wood which he
then sawed around each individual country. Spilsbury used his product
to aid in teaching geography.
My Batman Puzzle was manufactured by Milton Bradley in 1966.
The Batman Cookies (also a puzzle since they are pieces put together in a logical way) were baked by me last week.
Basic puzzle: pieces are intended to be put together in a logical way in order to come up with the desired solution.
British engraver and mapmaker, John Spilsbury, created the first jigsaw puzzle in 1700 when he mounted a map on a sheet of wood which he then sawed around each individual country. Spilsbury used his product to aid in teaching geography.
My Batman Puzzle was manufactured by Milton Bradley in 1966.
The Batman Cookies (also a puzzle since they are pieces put together in a logical way) were baked by me last week.
The model shows a sectioned human brain made from papier mâché. The parts can be removed to show the internal structure of the brain. Each is labelled with a number and some of the parts have the name of the section printed in French. This model was used as an aid to teach anatomy. France, 1801-1850.
Learn sign language by translating written text to signs
Welcome to learn sign language! This webpage is a teaching aid designed to make sign language accessible to everyone.
Here you will find an international dictionary of the following national sign languages: Swedish, English (BSL), American English (ASL), German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian, Estonian, Lithuanian, Icelandic, Latvian, Polish, Czech, Japanese, Turkish. American Sign Language and baby signs are also included in this dictionary.
This webpage is administered by the Non-Governmental and Non-Profit Organization European Sign Language Centre. Though the primary objective of the Centre is to make national sign languages available to people with hearing disabilities, the overall ambition is to make sign languages accessible to everyone.
This project is an ongoing process of documenting national sign languages, we have come quite far, but much remains. We need your assistance. If you want to support our work – financially or in other ways – please contact us at firstname.lastname@example.org. If you have any ideas or thoughts that you wish to share with us, please do.
There was someone wanted to know what the cross was that Benedict was wearing;
It’s a Maltese Cross.
In the 15th century, the eight points of the four arms of the later called Maltese Cross represented the eight lands of origin, of the Knights Hospitalier, these were Auvergne, Provence (France), Aragon, Castille (Spain), Portugal, Italy, Baviere (now Germany), and England (with Scotland and Ireland).
The eight points also symbolize the eight obligations or aspirations of the knights:
to live in truth
to have faith
to repent one’s sins
to give proof of humility
to love justice
to be merciful
to be sincere and wholehearted
to endure persecution
The Maltese Cross is used as a symbol today by St John’s Ambulance Brigade. Venerable Order of St John’s main service is The St John Ambulance a volunteer-led charitable non government body which set up in 1877 in England to teach, for free, First Aid to workers in dangerous but ordinary, everyday jobs how to treat injuries and save lives.
The shape and structure of the human brain is shown in this wax model. At the upper end of the central nervous system, the model also shows the brain’s connection to the spinal cord. This object would have been used as a teaching aid. Such models were an important part of anatomy teaching due to the lack of real bodies available for dissection.
There’s a teacher that made a huge impact in guiding me to be the artist I am today. When I was attending San Diego Community College back in ‘97, I took a couple of Life Drawing courses. What was great about the class was that Nancy didn’t give a toot what style people wanted to achieve. She just wanted to teach the fundamentals to aid your decision. Her teaching was impeccable. She knew how to understand her students.
One day, she asked me in the beginning of the semester, “Sean, what do you want out of this class?” I told her, “I want to draw comics.” I explained to her I didn’t know how to draw from the waist down, and that I might have a hard time getting into the industry only drawing people from the crotch up. I REALLY wanted to learn how to draw legs. After hearing my interest in the class, she says, “Ok lemme see what you can do.” Although, a little under pressure, I looked at the nude model, and then at my paper. Nancy noticed a pattern right away.What she said to me next blew my mind. She said, “Ok, Sean. Stop. I see what’s going on. You’re looking at your paper and not at the model. How can you draw what you don’t know? Draw what you see, not what you think you know.” Later in the convo, Nancy discussed key points. i.e. elbow placement, hip to knee distance, knee to ankle distance, outside calf being higher than the inside calf, outside ankle being higher than the inside ankle. I was stunned. The knowledge she unleashed on me that day, from then to now, I haven’t looked back to only wanting to draw from the crotch up.
I use the tools she’s provided me to this very day, no matter how stylized I want to get. Below is recent examples of girls I drew within the past few years for my warm-downs after a long work day.
Thank you, Nancy for schooling us and letting us be who we wanted to be all the while utilizing your priceless lessons.
#lifedrawing, #warmdowns #sketches #sketch #drawing #concepts #seancheeksgalloway #cheeks74 #lifestory #truestory #youaintgottalietokickit