The year was 1951...I think!

   If my memory serves me correctly, it was September 1951. It was my first day of school, of kindergarten. I don't remember much about that day. In fact, I don't remember anything. It was a long time ago. I am not even sure I remember the name of the school, although I'll take a guess at Roseland Elementary School in Roseland, New Jersey.

   With that day, it was the beginning of 13 years of classes in grades K-12, then college, graduate school and even more graduate school. But over the years the nature and delivery of education has changed tremendously. OK. I'll say it. Today's classroom is not your grandfather's classroom any more.

   What I do remember of the early days was the playground, school lunches, and neatly arranged chairs and desks in five rows with seven chairs in each row, each classroom exactly the same. We all went to the boys room and girls room at the same time, even if we didn't have to go and if someone in class misbehaved, we all stayed inside at recess time.

   And then there was the little red-haired girl who  always sat in front of me in class. We always sat in alphabetical order. But that's a story for another day.

   In the early years if we had a question we raised our hand and, when called upon, we stood up to ask the teacher or were called up to the teacher's desk.

   Back in the day, there were black boards, white chalk and erasers that needed to be cleaned (clapped) almost daily. We always clapped them against the red brick wall of the school building, right near the front door, right next to the window of the principal's office.
   The black boards were washed each day and washing the black board for the teacher was either a reward for good behavior or a punishment for bad. (For the record, I did my share of washing! Your guess as to which reason.)  

   Above the black board, tacked to a strip of bulletin board, were green cards with the letters of the alphabet. In K-3, they were block letters and after grade three, they were the cursive letters of the alphabet for handwriting lessons.

   It was the No 2 yellow pencils for writing, plain 'off white' paper for math and blue lined composition paper for writing. On occasion we used pens instead of pencils and I am still trying to remember if this was a time when the ball point pen was taking the place of a 'fountain pen'. But, we were never allowed to use a pen for math. What would happen if you made a mistake? Ink didn't erase!

   Let's see now...there were the robins, the blue jays, and the turtles, the poor turtles and poor Joey P, who was a turtle most of his years in school. These were often the names given to the reading groups.

   Remember reading groups? While one group gathered in a circle for reading instruction, the rest of the class was busy at their desks, supposedly doing either map work or doing extra math problems. Nothing to do? How about practicing the alphabet, both the capital and lower case letters. I mean, how many times can you write the alphabet? The teacher called it guided practice time. We called it 'busy' work.

   The worst time of the week... music class. Once a week, the music teacher would come into the classroom and attempt to 'teach' us to sing. She would take out her pitch pipe, pick a note and start to sing ”The itsy-bitsy spider. Every day, year after year.  In grade 1 or 2 it was probably OK.  But in the 6^th grade.....please.

   We called her the old maid. She wore the same gray sweater with big leather button and always had the smell of mothballs Along with the sweater she wore the same blue plaid skirt. On her feet she wore thick stockings and black shoes that laced up the front. When she walked around the room she often sounded like a small horse, the heels of her shoes hitting the wooden classroom floor. It was always the longest 25 minutes of the week and sometime a good time to get sent to the office to see the principal.

   The truth is, I must have found some comfort and pleasure in the classroom. After high school, I went on to college and, after spending a year or so in business administration classes and along with tutoring high school kids at several local high schools in some very rural sections of West Virginia in my free time, I decided to become a teacher and school counselor. Those of you who know me know that I spent the next 35+ years at various levels of public education before retiring.

   Those early years, both as a student - and I was not always the best student for sure - and as a beginning teacher, taught me the importance and value of a good education and what could be accomplished with just a little hard work

   Schools have changed a great deal since 1951. From the robins, blue jays and turtle reading groups, to trading in the yellow No 2 pencil for today's latest computers or tablets, today's schools offer opportunities we never dreamed 65 years ago. But one thing has remained the same...the importance of studying hard and getting the best education possible.

   And about that music teacher that drove many of us crazy in class for 25 minutes each week, perhaps she was attempting to teach us more about life than how to sing back then. The good news? We at least all started the song on the same note. 

Silencing a long standing tradition....

   An article in the local paper this past week caught my attention. At first it caused me to chuckle a bit. Why would people get so upset because the town manager decided to silence the town's fire horn, especially after receiving several noise complaints from town citizens. But what he may have failed to realize was it's long standing tradition within the community.

   North of Bangor, tucked away in the woods is the town of Millinocket, once a community with thriving paper mills, busy main streets lined with shops and businesses and championship high school athletic teams every so often.

   Since the early 1950 the fire horn has been an important part of everyday life in the Millinocket community, blasting twice each day, first at 8:00 announcing the start of school and then again to 9:00 pm, reminding folks of the town's 9:00 curfew. The curfew had been eliminated many years ago, but the practice of sounding the horn at 9:00 pm continued until.... August 18, 2015.

   In protest to the decision to silence the fire horn, community members have taken to their cars and at 9:00 pm drive up and down the main streets of the town, honking their car horns, in an attempt to keep alive a long standing community tradition. But there may be a bit more to this story.

   For many years the backbone of the Maine economy has been it's 'world known' pulp and paper industry. But in recent years the industry has fallen on hard times and many of the mills have either moved away or shut down. The mills in  Millinocket closed about two years ago creating financial and personal hardships on many families in the area. And as recently as yesterday, another mill in western Maine announced the layoff of over three hundred of its workforce. Another blow to the Maine economy. But is this a surprise?

   Even back in the mid to late 1980's, the paper companies began to send a message that the industry was changing. In the future it would be very difficult for young people to graduate from high school and transition into what were generally considered well paying jobs at the local mills. The jobs would not be there. And that warning has now proven to be a reality.

   But old traditions don't give up easily. The mills are gone, the jobs are no longer available. Young people are migrating to more populated areas in search of jobs and a new way of life. The once busy mill towns are now only a skeleton of what they were in the past. No smoke spews from the deteriorating smoke stacks.

   But the people in the area are working hard to create, develop, and establish a new future, with new traditions.

   But until such time, for those who remain in the area ...is there really anything wrong with continuing to sound the fire horn twice a day, just for a few seconds, keeping one small tradition as a reminder there are new and exciting things to come to the region?

   Perhaps even as early as 1964, who would have known that a folk singer by the name of Bob Dylan would have been able to see the future...

 

                                   " Come gather 'round people

                                    Wherever you roam  
                                    And admit that the waters  
                                    Around you have grown                                    
                                    And accept it that soon                                   
                                    You'll be drenched to the bone                                   
                                    If your time to you                                    
                                   Is worth savin'                                    
                                  Then you better start swimmin'                                    
                                  Or you'll sink like a stone                                    
                                  For the times they are a-changin'."

   Maybe Dylan was right. But please don't let this be the fire horn's last blast.


                       

'These ones' and other nightmares of a retired English teacher..

   As the surgeon prepared to make the final cuts to remove the growth from the patient’s brain, he asks those assisting him to prepare to clamp off several arteries that supplied blood to the area.

   “No, no. no. Not those ones,” he shouts. “These ones! These ones! Over here.”

   Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately, the words and language we select and use reflects who we are, the level of education we have achieved and even, perhaps, our social standing. Words are important. But as times change, as we become more reliant on computers, on spell check, as we read, write and speak less, as we depend more on getting our entertainment from ipads and social media, the quality of our vocabulary changes as well. OMG!

   I studied English, grammar and literature in high school and, admittedly, I was not the best student. I taught English for a number of years to high school students and I can honestly confess to myself that I did not do a very good job. I was not always the best role model.

   Looking back, I should have had students write more, learn at least one new word each day, read more and have them do more public speaking ('like' and 'um ya know', etc.). Oh, and yes, I should have and should continue to practice what I preached, even to this day, regardless of how old I am.

   So...what are some common words but often misused or misunderstood today?

   Most people refer to a 'travesty' as a tragic event, when the correct use of the word implies an event as a parody or...to make fun of something. My Life, The Travesty!

   If I 'peruse' the newspaper each morning, one may understand it to mean that I have skimmed over or glanced at the daily news. The correct use of the word means “to carefully review.” Now, at 6:30 in the morning, I am in no mood to carefully review the Bangor Daily News, checking the accuracy of its reporting of local events or to check for spelling errors. Don't they have spell check?

   There are many who may agree that what I write about is 'redundant', meaning it is often repetitive. OK. Some of the things I write about and say...could be cut out. Hmm. Sounds like many parts of the campaign speeches we have been listening to.

   My 'redundant' point is simple. These are words commonly used today but over time their meanings have changed, depending upon the context in which they were used.

   I have always believed that it is easy to sit back and criticize. But with criticism comes a responsibility to make positive suggestions. I had proposed that students learn at least one new word each day, so here are several suggestions for this week.

   'Fulminate' means to loudly attack or denounce. The political candidates used the recent debate time to fulminate against some of their rivals. Now doesn't that sound better than saying “the other candidates really  suck!”

   If there is an enthusiasm and a willingness to achieve or accomplish something good, it often shows a degree 'alacrity'. An attempt to bring about world peace in some of the countries involved in war shows a high level of alacrity on the part of the U.S. How about within some of our own cities?

   A word often used to mean to 'make unnecessary' is the word 'obviate'. This word is actually being  used a bit more these days. It has absolutely nothing to do with getting pregnant.  (Can't figure that one out! You may want to call Donald Trump on that one.)
   Wouldn't it be great if we were able to obviate most of the meaningless and time wasting commercials on television? But then, how would we know about the sales and special prices offered by the local Honda car dealership just down the road? (My favorite would be to obviate junk mail, both in my postal mailbox and on my cell phone.)

   My goal for this  week is to use the word 'fulminate' at least three times when speaking to others. That shouldn't be too difficult.There is enough  out there to have an extreme opinion or two,

   I really do try not to abuse the English language too much. I worry about the future generations however. Cursive writing is not taught in many classrooms any more. (I'd like to get some of those green cards with the letters that were posted above the blackboard. Oops. Is blackboard politically correct these days?) The spelling bee is becoming a dinosaur. As the little girl said to her mother in the store the other day. “Mom...we don't have spelling tests any more. I have spell check on my tablet now.”
   And as for the doctor and “these ones,” I think I might look for a second opinion before going too much further with this particular doctor.

Some of these are down right weird....

   The older I get, the more I think about the meaning of one's life, the experiences and  lessons learned from those experiences and how one builds personal character. But the real question for me has been not what we learned but  how and when we learned it. In many cases, we know life's lessons are learned on  playgrounds or  athletic fields, in the classroom or at the dinner table.
   Perhaps the lessons are learned from television shows (I have referred to the early days of the Andy Griffith Show in  past blogs) or possibly by the stories we hear or the books we read. Or maybe we learned them from those “morally charged” or “value laden ” rhymes and jingles we have come to know and often memorized as a child.

   At a recent antique auction we purchased some older kids' books. Part of the package included a teaching series of children's literature, one entitled Rhyme and Jingle Reader, copyright 1912. Bored by the recent reporting of the political candidates debates on television, I decided to refresh my memory with the all time favorites. (Where did some of these ever come from?)

   Who doesn't remember sitting on Grandma's knee and listen as she told the sad tale Jack and Jill.........

                                        Jack and Jill went up the hill
                                         To fetch a pail of water;
                                         Jack fell down and broke his crown,
                                         And Jill came tumbling after.

   Poor Jack! And she would always end  it by gently dropping me on the floor.

   And then there is the famous story of a crazy egg sitting on a wall.

                                           Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

                                            Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;
                                            All the King’s horses, all the King’s men
                                            Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

   This little rhyme always cracked me up. Can you picture an egg sitting on a wall and then all of a sudden.......splat!

    And who didn't have a friend called Georgey..................

                                             Georgey-porgey, pudding and pie,
                                             Kissed the girls and made them cry.
                                             When the boys came out to play,
                                             Georgey-porgey ran away.

   Now I have never seen a cat play a fiddle or a cow jumping over the moon, although I have seen a few cows 'mooning'. And much to my surprise, after looking at the local newspaper, there is a rock band made up of cats coming to Maine in the next week or two. Who would have guessed that in 1912 someone would have predicted the future of rock music and the important roll cats play.....

                                                Hey, diddle, diddle!
                                                The cat and the fiddle,
                                                The cow jumped over the moon;
                                                The little dog laughed
                                                To see such sport,

                                                And the dish ran away with the spoon.

   Dish? Spoon? Running off together? Where did that come from?

   Back in the day, I am sure many of these nursery rhymes were designed to teach good values and life lessons. Some were even used to teach math. For example...

                                                 Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,
                                                 A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.
                                                 If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,
                                                Where is the peck of peppers Peter Piper picked?

   The first question is...how many pickled peppers are in a peck and then, what did he do with peck? If he ate them, he was probably a pretty sick boy. And if he decided to sell them and keep the money, would he have been a young Donald Trump?

   Along with Peter, there was Simon, Simple Simon, and his first encounter with what has now become known as the 'mobile food cart' in some towns and villages. And like many today, Simple had a problem,  no money...

                                               Simple Simon met a pieman,
                                               Going to the fair;
                                               Says Simple Simon to the Pieman,
                                                          “Let me taste your ware.”
                                               Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
                                                          “Show me first your penny.”
                                               Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
                                                          “Indeed, I have not any

   Poor Simple. He had no money and was probably hungry. Maybe he was one of the first illegal immigrants seeking to sneak  into  a new country.

   The Rhyme and Jingle Reader is filled with rhymes and stories, many of which are familiar, but there are a few even new to me. But, if these rhymes and poems were used as lessons, for life, it explains a great deal about the attitudes and fears of that generation.

                                            Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,

                                             Upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown,
                                             Rapping at the window, crying through the lock,
                                            “Are the children in their beds, for now it’s 
                                              eight o’clock?”

   Today, if Wee Willie were an actual person, he would probably be arrested.

   But, back to my grandmother's knee for just a moment. The following was one of her favorites. I am not sure why I remember that and please don't ask me  because I just don't know...

                                                    Trit-trot, trit-trot,
                                                    To buy a penny cake;
                                                    Home again, home again,
                                                    I met a black-snake.
                                                           I  picked up a stone
                                                   And breaky backy-bone
                                                   Trit-trot, trit-trot
                                                   All the way home

   ???  Perhaps she  wanted to own a horse or just liked to say "trit-trot:!! And the answer to the 'how much is in a  peck?” Sixteen dry pints!!!  I said some of these were down right weird.