Heroes who never had the chance to age gracefully

My father’s picture hangs in the living room of my mother’s house. The American flag that draped his coffin is folded and put away. He was a veteran.

On Memorial Day, this is a column I wrote when I worked in print media. I try to run it every year. As someone who lost their parent long before they should have, I am sure many of you can understand. Please remember what this holiday is all about.  (This was first published on May 27, 2001)

Vietnam was not a popular war, but it was a war just the same. Soldiers fought and died as they have in this country since our Revolution. They did not do it for glory or recognition, but because they were asked to by their country.

My father was born in Alabama, the first of six children. His love affair with the military began when he was a little boy. He would watch the World War II soldiers from Fort Rucker march down the road beside his grandfather’s farm. His grandfather would pump water from the well for the soldiers.

One day, the sergeant asked his grandfather not to give his troops any extra water, because they must learn to drink only the ration given them. His grandfather reply: It was his pump, his water, and as long as those boys were marching for his country, he would stand outside and pump water for them all day. This made quite an impression on Daddy, and I never heard him express any desire to be anything but a soldier.

He became a soldier in 1950, when he lied about his age (he was 14, no proof of age was required) and joined the National Guard. In 1953, after high school graduation, he went in the regular army. More specifically, the field artillery. He was 17. His basic training was a Fort Polk, La., and he retired from active duty at Fort Rucker, Al., in June of 1973.

In between, he moved his family, which came to include a wife, three kids an a dog, all over the world: Fort Riley, Kansas; Fort Benning, Georgia; Schwabisch Hall, Germany; and Fort Sill, Oklahoma. All the important years and dates in my life are tied in to Daddy’s military service an where we were stationed. Daddy missed a lot of birthdays and special occasions. This came with the territory.

By 1964, the rumblings of American involvement in Vietnam were sounding through the military grapevine. Daddy figured the artillery would be among the first to go, so he switched his MOS to the Signal Corp. Guess who went first? The Signal Corp.

In 1965, the orders arrived. That’s when the picture was made. It was for my mother in case he didn’t come home.

From Vietnam he wrote letters about the people and scenery, along with little stories about funny things that happened, but not about his job. He set up radio teletype communication systems in DaNang, NaTrang, Long Bien and Saigon. He flew around in choppers from place to place, with big radios and a little-known herbicide to drop on the vegetation, Agent Orange.

He served his tour and came home. My mother never doubted he would. The picture remained on the living room wall. He began teaching communication at the signal school at Fort Gordon, Georgia where the Signal Corps is based.

It was also the largest orthopedic center for the veterans coming home from Vietnam. In 1968, I was 11 and the wounded veterans would line up in the hospital hallways. No arms, one leg, missing hands. They made an impression. I asked questions. What happened to them and why? They made the war very real to me. Daddy tried to explain. He always said they were the heroes. Most were young, just a little older than me. Most were draftees. They sacrificed even though it was not their choice. Daddy didn’t understand the animosity toward these kids. They were soldiers doing what was asked of them.

Daddy retired in 1973. He got a regular job working in the Post Office and went back to civilian life.

In 1990, the phone call came. I was at work. He had been feeling pretty bad and the doctor ran some tests. Cancer, several kinds, in fact, and the prognosis was not good. Renal-cell carcinoma, Non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, foreign-sounding names for devastating diseases. Trips to kidney doctors and oncologists and the VA. One hundred percent disability.

After years of denying that Agent Orange caused many of the symptoms the veterans were experiencing, the government had finally acknowledged three different cancers directly related to exposure. Daddy had two of those cancers.

He did not become bitter. He always kept his spirits up. He never wanted to be anything but a soldier. He died 18 months later and the flag that draped is coffin was put away. He was 56.

Memorial Day is not just a three-day weekend for some of us. It is a day to honor our dead. Even those from an unpopular war.

Fiction versus reality

 

I try very hard not to be one of those people who say how great things were back when I was young. The truth is, as the song, "Memories" states so clearly. "Can it be that it was all so simple then, or has time rewritten every line?"

I struggle sometimes, with why the students I teach seem to gravitate towards conspiracy theories and "reality" television where people's most intimate secrets are revealed and biggest fears are brought to life. What changed between generations? 

There is not one thing that I can think of except the explosion of "reality" television, which isn't real at all. One of the staples of my teenage years was the show, "All in the Family." It is a show that today would probably never find an audience. It was fiction; there was no Archie Bunker but we all somehow knew one. Edith came to life under Jean Stapleton's wonderful portrayal and I wanted to grow up and be Gloria. My older brother fit the part of Meathead although I think he was smarter. 

All in the Family showed how terribly messed up we were towards many things still being fought today. Civil Rights, Women's Rights, prejudice, bigotry and all the freedoms addressed in the First Amendment of the Constitution. It spawned two major spinoffs, "The Jeffersons" and "Maude". In my family, we watched all three. 

These television shows presented many social issues being faced in the country today, but in a way that cause me to think, to question, but to laugh. Norman Lear and his writers were genius in that way. 

That all changed with these shows that were billed as reality shows but in truth, were staged people, doing what a director and producer wanted them to do. The first show most writers feel comes close to what I mean was actually done buy PBS in a show called "An American Family" in 1973. The genre really took off with shows like CBS's "Big Brother" and MTV's "The Real World." Included in my mind are also what I call the daytime screaming shows like Jerry Springer or Maury. 

All this stuff is scripted and directed and yet, the young people seem to believe it is real. This has carried on to shows like "Gold Rush" and "Alaskan Bush People or "House Hunters" and "Pawn Stars." Young people today seem to like shows like this but believe they are real. Even movies which show the line, "based on a true story" lean towards what will sell, not what is real. 

I am not sure why this is something which makes my mind go in to overdrive, but it does. Especially on a night when I am watching reruns of "Mad Men".

We Don't Scare That Easily

 

Tomorrow is the last Monday of the final week of school. If I had to name the year which was the toughest for me in this career, it would be this one. Now, before you begin dissing on teachers and how they know what they are getting into or any other negative comments, just scroll on to another story because at this point in the year, I really don't want to read it. 

Covid 19 threw a big wrench in most teachers year. Although I am only discussing me, I, as always, have a few thoughts on why I admire teachers and the work they do. 

Last year, when teachers were asked to remake their whole teaching strategy, we did it. Teachers did whatever was necessary to make sure our students had the opportunity to continue to learn. Given that many of my students had no computer or wifi access, and either no parents at home to help them or parents who did not have the knowledge of whatever subject their kids were having problems with. We called and emailed, had Zoom meetings and touch base Wednesdays. Some teachers printed out packets of information to send home and the parents could pick it up at the school from their cars. We had parents who we never heard from; parents who we heard from on a daily basis; students who continued to flourish and ones that fell behind. We did not stop trying to continue their education.

When this year began, it was a new experience for most of us. I, thank God, am very well versed in computers due to my previous employment in print media. I did not struggle to get lesson plans up, communicate with students and parents and in that area, my job was easy.

The hard part came with the students, many who were used to doing what they wanted while at home. No accountability on the parents part. Want to play video games on your phone? Go ahead. Want to continue talking over the teacher? Sure, no problem. The issue with missing the last quarter of school was what little respect we had as teachers went out the window. So on top of teaching lessons, we had to teach classroom respect again. 

We dealt with cleaning and wearing masks so we were not exposed to the virus. We had to struggle with overcrowded classrooms and still try to keep the students apart. In my case, I changed from desks to tables because they were easier to space apart. We had no computers for our classes because they were checked out by online students. Our computers in the library and computer labs were in constant use by testing, which although cancelled in the spring, all had to be done this year. (they didn't forget about them) I had kids who came to school with masks that were so dirty, they looked like they had been laying in a garden. I had kids who fought wearing masks because they are teenagers. I had kids miss 14 straight days because of exposure, not once but several times. Many kids were consistent in asking for food. They were hungry. Add that to the ones who were constantly interrupting the class to go wash their hands or get water and teaching falls short.

I tried. I used every teaching tool I am equipped with. We had gallery walks and video clips. (more on that later) Classroom discussion where not one child had an independent thought, which means no discussion. I had students who refused to read, refused to work, simply wanted to be on their phones. 

I wrote students up, one who told me to go F*** myself after I had woken him up for the third time because he was snoring so loudly. I had one who informed me that he didn't have to do his work because I knew he was the smartest kid in class and he really was only going to school because his parents made him. (he was listed as gifted, but we know what that means)

Add to the mixture no way to play any video clips that are not included in the online textbook unless it has been pre-approved. Which sounds great except I use a huge number of video clips when discussing WWI and WWII, the Holocaust, the Renaissance and numerous other periods of history. I cannot stream a movie, even one which has an inspiring message because my district has blocked all that. I must write every clip or video down, give it to my principal and if he approves, he will send it on to the district. So this almost broke me this year. It didn't and I am figuring out workarounds, but talk about stupid. Don't our district people have more to worry about than whether I am streaming Amazon to show The Freedom Writers' Diaries?

So with all that on a consistent basis, I am tired. I am ready for this year to end with the hope that next year may be more normal. I am also lucky. I live by myself and my dogs are easily pleased. I don't have to worry about kids or a spouse or any of that. So I worry about my kids.

This year my kids have been challenging but I have had so many bright spots. The first time one of my ESE students who is non-verbal, participated in a gallery walk and completed the questions. An email from a student who consistently makes great grades but never says a word, which read in part, "I would just like to tell you that I really appreciate the subjects that you teach us and how much effort you put into the lessons, I look forward to going to your class everyday as it is one of my favorite classes, Thank You." A sign one of my students who takes Spanish placed in my classroom which reads, "Please stop talking so the teacher can teach." Finally, a student who really struggles in school who told me I was her favorite teacher. 

So now I am getting ready. Ready for at least two weeks after the end of school where I can sleep in, lounge in the pool and hang out with the dogs. Then I will begin again.  I will check the first month of lesson plans and try and find all my old journalism things because that is a new class I will be teaching next year. See if I can raise print money because I believe in print newspapers for students first, before we tackle online. Make sure my dates are noted for the online professional development I do each summer to keep up with my history classes. 

You tried this year. You started by telling us what a great job we were doing but ended by going back to the same old crap. We don't scare that easily. You threw the worst at us and your kids did okay. Most of us love teaching and the students. I can't think of anything you could do that would make me leave. Except the videos. Can you do something about that?

High School Dress Codes still anger young women

 

The above photo was taken right after I graduated high school and cut all my hair off to show I was now grown up. I posted it to show you what the style of sun dress was in the 1970s. They have not changed that much and I still wear them in the summer. Florida is quite warm. We were not allowed to wear them to school even though the schools had no air conditioning. Heck, we weren't even allowed to wear shorts. We had a dress code that had to have been from the 1950s and I fought it at every turn.

My first run in was a patch on my jeans. Unlike today, our jeans were not ripped at the factory. It was not the style to have our skin hanging out through skin tight jeans. They were tight, we made sure of that, but if they developed any kind of hole, we put a patch over it and kept going which resulted in my first trip to the office for being out of dress code.  I placed a patch, seen below, on my jeans where there was a hole.

The problem was the hole was on the rear of  the jeans, right across my butt cheek and the administration at Lakeland High School thought it inappropriate so I was sent home to put on a more respectable (their term, not mine) pair. 

The second time I had a run in about dress code was a little more serious. In our student handbook the rule for female students was  the wearing of brassieres. This was in print and demanded that all female students wear one. Now, not that much has changed in the past 47 years. Who the heck is in charge of checking on girls underwear?

In my case, it was my driver's education teacher, a man, also a coach, who demanded as I entered the classroom that I go to the office immediately for not having a bra on. First I asked him why on earth he was looking at my chest so intently that he would notice a bra or not. Then I informed him that he was mistaken, I did have on a bra, and I was not breaking any rules. 

He sent me to the office anyway. When I arrived, the Dean of Women, whose name shall remain undisclosed because I still dislike her, wanted to know why I was back in the office and what on earth had I done now?  I was already guilty, even though I had not even had a chance to explain.

Now, girls' sports bras in 1974 were thin, stretchy, with no support whatsoever, but I wore one. I also had on a western shirt with snap buttons and when the dean continued to argue with me, I pulled those snaps open so quickly she didn't have time to react. 

Of course, then she saw I had on a sports bra and had to send me back to class and not suspend me.  I have never forgotten those incidents and how they made me feel. I never tried to intentionally break the rules but somehow, whatever I wore angered someone. 

Of course, I thought those rules were stupid and still do although I better understand why they have them. The issue today is how geared they are against young women. Boys can wear tank tops in gym and even remove their shirts. Girls can't wear anything even resembling a tank top and camisoles with thin straps, even with built in bras, are a total no no. 

Girls who play volleyball can wear shorts on the court that show their butt cheeks and outlines of their private parts, but no shoulders in school. These look more like bathing suit bottoms to me, but who I am to judge? 

The problem is in all schools where some kind of uniform is not worn. It says a lot for going to khaki pants or skirts and collared shirts. This happened in Pasco County and the school board is supposedly looking in to dress codes. 

This happened at another school in Florida and if I was one of those parents, I would be screaming.

As it is, I am a parent of a boy who is grown. I am a teacher who watches these young women struggle with their identity and sympathize with that struggle. I don't have the answers. I wish I did. 

Keeping current of past history

My students asked my plans for summer last week. They are always curious about what teachers do when school ends. The truth is, I keep working for them. I have been called many things for this and I am sure the first two weeks will be spent on just me, but by the third week, I will be planning for next year. 

For many summers, I have done professional development through organizations that offer great, informational weeks spent learning the history of different periods in the United States, or individual states and people. Most of these offer a partial stipend to help offset costs of travel and lodging and some are close enough to drive from home. 

I have been to Mississippi to study the culture of the Mississippi Delta to Washington, D.C to immerse myself in Civic Education. I was able to study one of Florida's most famous women, Zora Neal Hurston and learn about Florida's role in the Civil War. 

When I first began teaching, I was lucky enough to take part in several different professional developments which delved in to the Florida history that most people never see. From Fernandina Beach and St. Augustine to Bartow and Clewiston with a little Ft. Myers thrown in, the Florida Humanities Council had a program called Teaching Florida. 

Most of these activities were for Florida teachers. They were about 4 days long and relatively inexpensive because the Council offset the cost. I miss this program. 

I listen to teachers today speak about Florida in modern terms but they have no idea of the rich history of our state. My family has been here for eight generations and I hate the ignorance of so many who do not realize how we evolved and changed. 

I belong to the Florida Humanities Council, the Florida Council on History Education, the National Council on History Education and believe that our students should be able to study the history of our state and there should be teachers versed in that history. In most areas, that history is limited to what the students can learn when it is embedded in World or United States History. 

Although the Department of Education demands we educate our students in our state's history, they give us very few tools to do it with. So it gets overlooked. 

With the demise of Teaching Florida, I contacted the CEO of the Florida Humanities Council to express my sorrow and dismay. His response stated that the Council must be available to a wide array of citizens and the history was available for schools to do field trips etc. These have become memories in many school districts due to cost. 

How great would it be if the new Executive Director would revisit the Teaching Florida program. 176,567 school teachers in Florida would love to learn about Zora, like I did, through an NEH program in conjunction with the Florida branch. Or how about Olustee? Do you know that name? Do you know Koreshan  State Park or have you been to the largest organic herb farm in the world or the sweetest city?

It seems as more and more people want to rewrite history, organizations would be trying to do more and more to educate those who are responsible for our school children. That's the way I see it. Is anyone listening?
 

Curious?

 

One of the most important questions which people don't ask any longer is why. 

There seems to be a distinct difference in those who ask why or question everything and those who believe everything they hear from one source. As a teacher, I face this issue on a daily basis. 

We try and teach students to question and then research to find answers. The problems we face are either students are lazy and don't want to do the work or they are so ingrained with being perfect and untouchable, they refuse to look at the why question.

It is not just students who do this but many adults I see every day.

Students mimic adults. They won't admit to this and believe their thoughts are their own but they do. There is no greater feeling for me than when a student questions something in class and then brings evidence to prove their point, even when it contradicts mine. 

The problem is the number of students who actually do this. There are not many. In many ways, they simply mimic the adults around them. It is correct because I say it is correct. I don't need evidence to prove differently.

I had a student announce to one of my classes last week the Covid-19 vaccine actually killed people. so she was not going to get the shot because she didn't want to die. When I tried to find out where on earth she had heard this, she couldn't remember and then corrected herself and said the news. When I tried to find out which news or what exactly was said, she couldn't remember. 

I then explained to the class about the different vaccines, what they had found with the Johnson vaccine and why it was important that people have vaccines from the beginning. I told them about the vaccines that were required when they entered school and how I even had to go back and get an MMR shot when I was in college because I had no proof I had ever had measles, mumps or Rubella. I had all three but in order to stay at college, I had to get the shot. 

It was then my class informed me they didn't have to do anything they didn't want to. They wouldn't get a shot because they were required to. They thought the rule was stupid and they would not suffer any if they contracted Covid because they were young and someone, somewhere told them it wouldn't kill kids. 

How do I battle that? They aren't asking why. They have all been told since birth they didn't have to do anything asked of them because they were so special. If I have heard once, I have heard it a million times, "My momma or daddy says I don't have to just because it is required. It is my right to do whatever I want, speak however I want, with no consequences."

Every day I keep trying. Many will not learn until life jumps up and smacks them in the face. Many will take something a teacher said and learn from it. They will develop a curiosity about why. They will want to learn everything they can about how the world actually works. Some will never learn.

I hope teachers keep trying. I hope their natural curiosity will win out before life turns them in to people I don't want to know. Everything in life is cyclical. I hope we get back to the why of things..   

Celebrate the little things

 

Being a teacher is the hardest job I have ever worked at. Although we worked extremely hard many nights while I was employed by a newspaper, working with teenagers offers a different set of challenges. Many of those challenges are simply tied in to society today. There are bright spots which make the down times seem like minor smudges in the big picture. 

I had several bright spots this week. One, which I won't go in to with much detail because it is still being formulated, is the news that I may produce another school newspaper next year. I have found such satisfaction with teaching my students newspaper. They learn layout, writing headlines, writing stories, editing, deadline, teamwork, and many other aspects which may not be noticeable during their time in my class, but pay off  when they continue in their educational journey.

I saw almost 15 students who had been part of a journalism class in my first teaching position graduate with their AA degrees last week  before they walked across the stage for their high school diploma. Many were in the top ten of their class. Although my journalism class cannot take all the credit, I am sure some of the skills they learned in class carried them a little further. 

The bright spot I am really celebrating this week is a student who requested a book. Now this may not seem like a big deal to people who read, but in today's world, with kids who have phones glued to their hands and air pods permanently implanted in their ears, it is a big deal. 

When you walk in my classroom you see reading material. Books upon books, magazines, newspapers and written copies of everything you can imagine. I always invite my students to read, borrow or take home anything they would like and although I did have one student pick up a book, she put it back when the other students began kidding her about it. 

The district asked each class in the month of April to use a standard for their class each Tuesday in the month.  I called this "Teaching the Standard Tuesday" or TST. The standard was R.L 2.6 Point of View and we were to select a passage from different books written by authors who are from outside the United States. This was not a hard lesson for me to do until I came to the final week. 

I finally found a book for young adults written by an African author from Nigeria. My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite was perfect. After I read the excerpt I found, I posted it, made copies for my students and decided I had to buy the book for myself because it sounded so interesting. We completed the lesson and I was a little disappointed in the student reaction although I knew my students were not avid readers. 

Yesterday, in my last period class, a student came up to my desk and asked me if I had gotten a copy of the book and had I finished reading it. I explained I was almost finished and found it very interesting and an easy read. She then asked would I bring it to her so she could read it. 

ABSOLUTELY! My heart was happy after an extremely rough day which included a lockdown for a time and students who are done with school at this point with interest that could be held on a gnat's wing. 

Thank you Oyinkan Braithwaite. Your book passed the teenage test.