Making a Difference

Thought for the day:  We can't all do great things in life, but we can all do small things with great love. [Mother Teresa]

[morguefile]

With temperatures still high enough to sizzle an egg on the sidewalk, it's hard to believe summer break is over, and the new school year is already underway. Thinking about our grandchildren being back in school reminded me once again of just how important teachers are. Their attitudes and interactions with young people can leave indelible impressions... whether good or bad... that can last for a lifetime. I suspect that all of us, no matter how young or old, can name at least one favorite teacher. (Right?)

Anyhow, that's what this post is about... on the surface, anyway. It's about a story I read some years ago about how one very special teacher made a huge difference in the life of a young boy. First, a little background. Three Letters From Teddy was written in 1976 by a gal named Elizabeth Ballard, and was published in a small Christian magazine. Since then, variations of her original story, tidbits of which the author drew from real life, have been used by many other writers and inspirational speakers over the years. In fact, copies of her story were sent to every teacher in the state of Colorado in 1998, and later that year, Paul Harvey read it on-air as a piece of news. When interviewed in 2001, the author, now named Elizabeth Ungar, expressed disappointment that her piece of creative writing continues to be passed around, both on and off the Internet... without her name attached... as though it were a true story.

Okay, so it isn't a 100% true story, and there was no real Teddy, as portrayed in the story, and there was no real Mrs. Thompson, as portrayed in the story, but other children... and adults... with problems do exist, and the genuine compassion of real teachers... and other real people... most definitely does make a difference. Those real truths contained within Ms. Ungar's story explain its longevity, and the fact that it continues to resonate and inspire. We want to believe.

Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle. [author unknown]

So, with a nod and a tip of the hat to Ms. Ungar, are you ready for a Swiderski-ized version of her tale? Here goes...

[morguefile]

As she stood in front of her fifth grade class on the first day of school, Mrs. Thompson couldn't help but notice Teddy, the slovenly boy slumped in the back row, and she silently resigned herself to the fact that he was going to be a royal pain in her sizable keister all year long. According to his fourth grade teacher, he didn't work or play well with others, he dressed like a slob, and was constantly in need of a bath. In a nutshell, the boy had an uncanny knack for being a trouble-maker.

[image by Gianne Rensen V. Antonio]

As the weeks went by, the boy turned out to be exactly what she'd expected. Everything she'd been told about him was true.

[morguefile]

Each year, she reviewed the past records of all her students, and for whatever reason, she looked at Teddy's records last. When she did, she was mortified. His first grade teacher wrote, Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly, and has good manners... he is a joy to be around. His second grade teacher wrote, Teddy is an excellent student, well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled, because his mother has a terminal illness, and life at home must be a struggle. His third grade teacher wrote, His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest, and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken. And his fourth grade teacher added, Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends, and he sometimes sleeps in class. 

[morguefile]

 Mrs. Thompson was ashamed of herself, and felt even worse in December, when her students brought her Christmas presents. All of them were wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper... except for Teddy's. His was clumsily wrapped in a brown paper bag.  Inside was a rhinestone bracelet with missing stones, and a nearly-empty bottle of perfume. When she opened it, some of the children started to laugh at first, but she quickly quieted them when she exclaimed about how pretty the bracelet was, and put it on. Then she dabbed a bit of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Today you smelled just like my Mom used to."

After all the children left, she cried, and that was the day she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic, and began to teach children... and she paid particular attention to Teddy every day.  As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had blossomed into one of the smartest children in her class.

[morguefile]

A year later, she found a note from him under the door to her classroom, telling her she was the best teacher he'd ever had.

 Six years after that, she got a letter from him. He told her he'd finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he'd ever had.

Four years later, she got a second letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He told her yet again that she was still the best and favorite teacher he'd ever had.

The third letter came four years later. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had, but now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.

The story doesn't end there. Mrs. Thompson heard from Teddy again, telling her he'd met a girl, and was planning to get married. He said his father had died a couple years earlier, and he wanted to know if Mrs. Thompson would be willing to come to his wedding, and to sit in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.

[morguefile]

She, of course, went to the wedding, and she humbly sat in the mother-of-the-groom seat.  And she proudly wore the bracelet and perfume he'd given her so many years before.

When they hugged each other, he whispered in her ear, "Thank you so much for believing in me. You made me feel important, and showed me that I could make a difference." 

With tears in her eyes, Mrs. Thompson whispered back to him, "You've got it all wrong, Teddy. You're the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

                                   *****

It's a great story, isn't it? And one of the greatest things about it is that it speaks to all of us. Teachers carry a huge burden of trying to make a positive difference in the lives of the children in their classrooms, but each of us can make a difference, too. We may not make a living standing in front of a classroom, but we do interact with people every day. Our attitude towards them can make a difference. A kind word, a smile... they can both make a difference. Every day, each of us has the potential to be the bright spot in someone else's day. A kind word of encouragement from us has the potential to give someone the strength to continue. Quite a responsibility, eh? But we can do it. Our name may not be Mrs. Thompson... but I'm very confident that we can be just as compassionate.

                                        Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirits. [Albert Schweitzer]

Hell! Why not aim to BE one of those people who rekindle inner spirits? [me]

Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud.  [Maya Angelou]

One kind word can warm three winters. [Japanese proverb]

Appreciation can make a day, even change a life. Your willingness to put it into words is all that is necessary.  [Margaret Cousins]

Be careful of your words. Once they are said, they can only be forgiven, not forgotten. [author unknown]

I had a friend who believed in me, and I didn't have the heart to let him down.[Abraham Lincoln]

[morguefile]

CLASS DISMISSED!!!

Digging for Treasure

Thought for the day:  Learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere. [Chinese proverb]

There's all kinds of treasures in this world. Learning is definitely one of them, and one that I value highly, but when you were a kid, did you ever dig for buried treasure? Only things I ever found were pretty rocks and fat wiggly worms, which inevitably led to a different kind of quest... for fish.

Well how about if I tell you about someone else's tenacity in solving a mystery, and his successful search for buried treasure that led to a whole new world of learning?

The roots for this story were set before the Civil War, when steamboats were a vital part of America's economy, moving goods and people up and down her mighty rivers. This picture, sent to me by a friend, is a rendition of the steamship Arabia, who happens to be the star of our tale.

On September 5, 1856, this steamboat, on a voyage to deliver two hundred tons of cargo and one hundred and thirty passengers to sixteen different frontier towns, hit a submerged tree, ripped a hole in its hull, and in a matter of minutes, sank to the muddy bottom of the Missouri River. All human passengers survived; the sole fatality was a hapless mule.

The boat, like other steamboats that had met the same fate, was believed to be lost forever.


A river is more than an amenity; it is a treasure. [Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.]

[picture by David Hawley]

In this case, as the years went by, the treasured Missouri River wasn't the one hiding the Arabia. 

A local amateur treasure hunter named Bob Hawley was particularly intrigued by this missing steamboat and the mysterious cargo she held.  He knew the course of the river had shifted decidedly eastward over the years, and based on extensive research, he and his sons surmised in 1987 that the missing Arabia might be located in the middle of a Kansas City cornfield. The farmer graciously agreed to let them search and dig in his field... as long as they were done in time for spring planting. They were. After Hawley's metal detector pinged the boat's boilers, with the use of heavy equipment, he, his sons, and some other family members and friends, uncovered the missing boat four months later... forty-five feet down, and a half mile from the current riverbanks. In the course of their work, they removed twenty thousand gallons of water from the site.

The location of the boat isn't the most amazing part. The most amazing part is the condition of its contents. Buried under the mud for over 130 years, the goods were beautifully preserved, serving as a time capsule from the past, and showing us more about the needs of day-to-day living in frontier American than any history book alone could ever do. The remarkably preserved contents of this boat included clothing, tools, guns, food products, dishes, jewelry, wine, window glass, French perfume, lumber, a couple of prefab houses, a sawmill, and a case of cognac.

The past is a treasure chest filled with learning opportunities for our present and future, but only if we look inside. [Kevin Eikenberry]

Great idea! Shall we...?

This fine china was still preserved in its original yellow packing straw.

[wikipedia]

And not just a FEW dishes were found, either. LOTS of dishes were found, as you can see from this picture taken inside of the Steamboat Arabia museum in Kansas City.

Here's a glimpse at some of the recovered clothing.

You probably know that calico was a very popular fabric for making dresses back then, but most of the calico dresses didn't fare too well during their time spent in the mud. However, these porcelain buttons, printed to match the dresses they adorned, survived beautifully.

Many guns and knives were recovered.

Check out this spiffy-looking rubber shoe.

And a beaver-skin hat. Naturally waterproof!

The world's oldest pickles? Because there was no air reaching the foodstuffs, it was surmised that the jars of food were still edible. To test that theory, one brave escavator ate one of the pickles. According to him, the 130+ year old pickle still tasted fresh. 

These signs hang inside of the Steamboat Arabia museum in Kansas City. Alas, most of us will never have the opportunity to visit that museum in person, but rather than me posting more pictures, how about something much better?









                                                          A video taken inside the museum!

What an amazing story, and what an amazing place to visit... even if only vicariously.

                            Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
   

Time to go digging for some more fun facts.

A Captured Moment

Thought for the day:  Racism isn't born, folks, it's taught. I have a two-year-old son. You know what he hates? Naps! End of list. [Denis Leary]

The Atlanta Journal ran a photograph last month, a photograph that was taken more than twenty years ago, but has been recently drawing renewed attention. A photograph I want YOU to see.

Before showing it to you, a little background information. The photographer, Todd Robertson, graduated from the University of Georgia School of Journalism in 1991, and in September of the following year, attended a Ku Klux Klan rally as a freelance photographer, in hopes of capturing some pictures for the Gainesville Times, a small local newspaper. Sixty-six KKK members showed up in Gainesville for that rally, and they were all outsiders. No locals. And there were approximately three times as many law enforcement officers on hand to keep the peace. Some notable civil rights leaders were also there, and the whole rally and peaceful counter-protest march even got some coverage on the Oprah Winfrey Show. 

                                                        Get the picture?

I think that hate is a feeling that can only exist where there is no understanding.  [Tennessee Williams]


                                                 Then, you're ready to SEE the picture.

                                 

The now-retired trooper, Allen Campbell, says he wasn't even thinking about race relations that day. To him, it was just another day on the job, and he was thinking more about the Labor Day cook-out he was missing. Then, this little fella approached to marvel at his reflection in the riot shield, and the photographer happened to be right there to capture the moment. To capture the expression on Campbell's face. And a moment is all he got... because the mother, seen at the right of the picture, quickly snatched the boy and brought him back to the stroller, where an even younger child sat, also dressed in mini-KKK garb.

Josh, the little boy in the picture, was only three years old at the time. Most people who see this picture want to know what became of him. But Campbell and Robertson, who abandoned photography shortly after taking this picture, don't know.

In light of this photograph's recent resurrection, the Gainesville Times recently interviewed Campbell and Robertson. You can see that short video here

Anybody remember the poem Children Learn What They Live [by Dorothy Law Nolte, 1972]

                        Here it is:

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.
***


                           So, what happens when a child is taught to hate?

I will permit no man to narrow and degrade my soul by making me hate him.  [Booker T. Washington]

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love.  [St. Francis of Assisi]

Do you remember this song? It isn't a perfect match for this post, but it's insinuated itself into my mind, and insists that it's ... close enough.

So, what do YOU think of that old photograph? What do you see in it? In the expression on the trooper's face?

                                   Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope.  [Martin Luther King, Jr.]

Lighting an Educational Fire

Thought for the day:  Enthusiasm is even more contagious than influenza.

[THEME: Amateur radio]

Have you ever had an instructor who was so good ... so bubbling with enthusiasm about the subject matter ... that you enjoyed that course and learned far more than you ever expected? Maybe so much so that the class actually influenced what you ended up pursuing as a career?

If you're a teacher ...  have you ever been so enthusiastic about a subject you were teaching that your enthusiasm spilled over and infected your students? Inspired them to want to learn more?

The TEACHERS INSTITUTE is designed to instill just that kind of enthusiasm, both in teachers and their students. Specifically, it is about teaching wireless technology, and about providing teachers from elementary to university level with the tools they need to excite students about things like basic electronics, radio, space technology, satellite communications, weather sciences, microprocessors, and basic robotics.

This intense four-day seminar is sponsored by the American Radio Relay League, our national association for amateur radio, and thanks to grants, most participant expenses are covered ... transportation, hotel, and a modest per diem for food ... PLUS teachers take home a wealth of materials and books.

Think this program might benefit you or a teacher you know? This year's seminars will be held in California and Connecticut, and the deadline for application is May 15. Go to the ARRL's website and if you do a website search on teachers institute 2012, you'll find all the nitty gritty details.

Here's a short video showing the robots teachers put together during one of these seminars:

Sounds to me like those teachers were having FUN!

[I've been having a blast with our friends since last Friday, and will be back to the ol' grindstone computer tomorrow. And depending on how far behind I am on responding to comments, I may catch up by 2013. But hey! Don't let that stop you! I LOVE your comments, and will get back to you asap.]

Remember?

Thought for the day;  Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.

second grade school picture

Looking back, I was a pretty melodramatic kid. I took everything to heart, cried easily, thought in superlatives, and laughed quickly. (Come to think of it, I haven't changed all that much.)

Anyhow, I'd like to tell you a story about something that happened when I was in first grade. Sorry about using the later picture here, but my first grade pic is plastered (for eternity) in a montage my mother made years ago. Too bad, because I actually looked melodramatic in that picture. Very serious, and much more fitting for this post.

[ By the way, notice the pin I'm wearing? It was my treasured Davy Crockett pin. That, and a little green Heinz pickle were my favorites. Weird kid.]

Anyway, back to the story. It was December 7, just like today, and when I came home from school, I was still brooding about something my teacher had told my class that day. After dinner, the family took a ride to my grandmother's house, and while standing in the back of the old car with my cheek resting on the back of my mother's seat, I sighed deeply, and said, "Poor Paul." My mother, naturally, wanted to know what I was talking about. "Paul Harbor," I said very knowingly, with tears in my eyes. " Japan hit him on the head with a bomb today."

Okay, so gimme a break. I was only five years old.

The point is, even though we were only first graders, our teacher tried to tell us what the day meant, and every student in our elementary school stood with head bowed for a moment of silence that day. No matter how limited our understanding, we knew the day was important. We knew someone died. We understood the concept of bombs. And each year after that, as we were reminded by our teachers every December, and stood for that moment of silence, we better understood the significance of the day.

Early Sunday morning, seventy years ago today, Japanese bombers attacked Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, and destroyed most of our country's destroyers. Caught us unaware. Killed far too many of our sailors and soldiers. And precipitated our country's entrance into World War II.

Most of the survivors of that attack are no longer with us. Most World War II vets are gone. But we should never forget. Schoolchildren no longer stand for a moment of silence. They're no longer taught to remember, respect and appreciate the significance of days like Pearl Harbor Day and of the veterans who lost their lives that day. More's the pity.

So WE must remember. And WE should teach them.

 wrecked destroyers

                                                                             

plane in flames

U.S.S. Arizona in flames

In 1942, this poster, created by Allen Saalburg, was issued by the Office of War Information:

To mark the thirtieth anniversary, the following montage poster was issued:

                                     

                                    And along withe the poster, this poem by JO3 Jim Deken, USN:

                                                          In the darkest of moments

                                                          a nation is wounded,

                                                          rights herself

                                                          and pushes on.

                                                          Her wounds give her strength

                                                          and urge her on to victory.

                                                          Time passes,

                                                          the wound heals

                                                          but leaves a mark.

                                                          The mark is her reminder

                                                          of what has been and could be again.

                                                           She does not forget.

U.S.S. Arizona Memorial, Pearl Harbor

  [Except for that last picture, all the Pearl Harbor shots are courtesy of the National Archives.]

Interested in seeing some additional pictures, which evoke an uncanny you-are-there feeling? Please go here

to see an excellent collection of photographs compiled by the Boston Globe last year for the 69th anniversary of Pearl Harbor Day.

To complete today's history reminder, how about FDR's speech about the date that will live in infamy?

                  Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. And ...  if only for a moment ... please remember all the Pauls.

American History and an Unlikely Hero

Thought for the day:  The moon is always full, even if you only see a sliver.

Not to sound like an old poop, but what kind of education are our children getting these days? It's no secret that American students have been lagging students in other countries in subjects like mathematics and science for a number of years, but according to data released yesterday by the U.S. Education Department, their grasp of  history is circling the drain, too.

I will grant you that young people today easily use and evidently understand a plethora of hi-tech devices and gadgets that weren't even in existence when I was in school, but isn't it troubling that in a recent test,  only 12% of high school seniors demonstrated proficiency in American history? And what' s even more discouraging is that this is approximately the same sorry level of proficiency shown by high school seniors when the test was last administered five years ago. In addition, fourth-graders and eighth-graders also did poorly, showing proficiency rates of 20% and 17%, respectively. Sure, I'll also grant you that there was (ahem) a helluva lot less history to learn when I was in school, but achieving a basic understanding of history, not to mention geography, math, literature and science, SHOULD be a given in our public schools. And it concerns me that it isn't.

Let me add a caveat here after the fact. I am in no way intending offense to any teachers, parents, or students. I am merely passing comment on the latest results of the National Assessment of Educational Progress testing. The percentage of students who passed these tests is appallingly low. I'm not passing judgement as to why that's the case, only that it is the case. 

Although today's teens may know more about the latest American Idol than they do about our American presidents, I'll betcha they all know something about a certain Representative Anthony Weiner. Unfortunately, we ALL know much more about America's latest "folk hero" than we ever wanted to know. For those of you who live beyond American soil, this foolish man rocketed into our collective consciousness when pictures he took of himself and then sent to a number of young ladies came to light. When the first round of photos became public, he tried to tell us he "couldn't say with a certitude" that it was his underwear in those pictures, and that someone had obviously "hacked his twitter account". Not an easy position to maintain, however, when the next round of pics came out, because unfortunately for him, they showed his face. Not to mention other anatomical parts. Got the (ahem) picture?

Now, I wasn't planning to write anything about him. I really wasn't. I mean, what can you say about a politician whose current claim to fame is wiggling his (ahem) weiner at young women via twitter and facebook? But after reading this morning's newspaper, I simply cannot resist.

                                     Would you believe there is now an action figure in his likeness?

That's right, people. Called Little Anthony, the figure is offered by the Connecticut-based online company HeroBuilders.com and is available in two different versions. One, which can be posed in all kinds of possible photo op positions, is going for $39.95, but for a mere ten dollars more, you can purchase the more anatomically correct "adult" version. (One can only speculate as to what kind of "action" this model demonstrates.) Both versions are clad in underwear, with the words Tweet this emblazoned on the shorts.

Not into dolls, you say? Fear not. Everybody wears tee shirts. Now, you too can own your very own Weiner tee shirt. Here you can find shirts with such unforgettable logos as

• Tweet your meat, lose your seat! 
• A bigger weiner than Dick Nixon
• Don't tweet your meat

and, to be a little different, 

• Junk mail

And here you can find shirts with such logos as

• Try not to trip over my weiner   and
• I can't say with certitude that this is my shirt

I mean, you've gotta love the enterprising spirit of America, don't ya? It seems that no matter what happens, somebody in this great country comes up with a tee shirt to mark the occasion. So we've pretty much come to expect the tasteless tee shirts, but how about some genuine Weiner condoms??? I kid you not. About these only-available-for-a-limited-time condoms, the webpage says, Sure to last longer than his marriage.

I'm sorry.

It isn't very kind to pick on someone when he's down. After all, Weiner claims to be going into treatment, so perhaps I should show a little more charity and compassion toward him than our late night comedians have shown. But I ask you, exactly what kind of treatment is available for what ails this man? The best I can tell, his only remorse is over getting caught, and I suspect he rather likes the notion of an action figure in his image. 

For our students of today, there is always opportunity to further their education. For politicians like Weiner, all I can say is, You can't fix stupid.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.