SCHOOL AND ILLNESS

Today we are babysitting our eight year old granddaughter, Grace, because she was ill and throwing up. I have had lots of experience with this issue having attended public school, ( known germ factories) having had both my sons attend public schools for 12 years each, and having taught in the public schools for 30 years.  

As a child, I lived in a very poorly constructed and poorly sealed home where there were many flies and other creatures abiding with us.  We could not afford great health care and , for the most part, health care in the 40's and 50's certainly was not what it is today.  Consequently many of us went to school with the "Sniffles."  Those sniffles were frequently accompanied by fever and coughing, a very bad combination.  We had lots of cold but my mother insisted in sending us off to school.  The fact that she was, what at the time was called, a housewife may have had something to do with it.  I was involved so much in sports that I wanted to go to school and to practice.  With the exception of football, I enjoyed practice very much.  So off I went to contaminate other little runny nosed brats.  

I suppose that it would behoove us all to keep our children out of school when they are ill to try not to spread the germs around.  Many doctors have told me that colds and flu are not caused by cold weather other than getting chilled and lowering our resistance. We get colds and flu primarily because we stay inside in sealed buildings with other people who have the viruses, etc and have close contact to the germs. 

Having said that, my older son never missed a day of school from the beginning of the fourth grade through the day he graduated from Male Traditional High school.  There were days when I suggested that he stay home but he insisted on going and so he did.  He was recognized on his graduation for the feat.  My second son was not so bull headed about this. He missed probably less than most students but certainly was not recognized for perfect attendance. 

Brian may have taken after me a little in going to school when maybe we should have not.  I hated missing days as a teacher because I had to leave very detailed lesson plans. In fact, I left two sets of lesson plans in case the substitute had some specific training in the subject and wanted to teach, (that happened once in 30 years) and another if he or she wanted to babysit.  Consequently I would give desk assignments and then need to grade the darn thing when I returned.  If I were off one day, I had 150 assignments to grade, plus having to deal with the school principal and his/her assistants about any discipline problems that had come up, or because of bad classroom management by the sub.  I always left a copy of the roll , but in almost every case the sub would have the students sign a sheet of paper.  You would not believe how many students I had named Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Minnie Mouse, and Daisy or Daffy Duck. The sub day student I had the most, however was the ubiquitous Ben Dover. He attended almost all of my classes on sub days.  

Another reason that I often came to school as a teacher is that of being cheap, I didn't want to use all my sick days because I knew I got a payback when I retired and it raised the rate of my retirement rate.  We were allowed 10 sick days a year that would be carried over each year until retirement.  When I retired in 2000, even with staying home with a sick kid a few times a year, I had accumulated almost 200 sick days, and that gave me a much better yearly salary in retirement.  I had student often ask if I ever missed school and was a bit hurt when they were disappointed when I answered no.  I got the impression that they didn't like me.

One day I came to school feeling just fine but by the end of first period I was beginning to feel very queezy and began to throw up but very little at a time.  I would leave the room and take my trash can and throw up into the trash can.  When I tied the plastic insert and put in the large trash can in the hall, I was pleased to find that there were a number of other plastic trash can liners folded in the bottom of the can.  During the first period class, Principal, John Locke, announced we had enough teacher absences that there were not enough subs to cover them and if any teacher would like to earn some extra money they could cover some of these for extra pay so I did not have the neave to tell him I needed to go home.  

I threw up about twice a class and finally a group of my students told Mr Locke about and he made me go home and covered my classes.  They ratted me out.  It was a great thing that they did because I no sooner entered my house but I hastened to the bathroom and spent most of the rest of the afternoon and early evening bowing to the porcelain throne.  The next morning I felt fine and thanked Mr Locke for making me go home, and, since we did not have to call a sub it did not count against me as a sick day.  Boy, how cheap am I?  

The most amazing thing to me was that in thirty years of teaching, I had only one student throw up in my class and Cindy only did a little as was befitting her very small frame. I was truly blessed.  I also had a student, on a very hot day, faint in her desk and lean her head against my hip because I was standing next to her.  I was almost relieved that the heat was the reason because I didn't want to deal with another reason for her to do that.  At Manual I sent a kid to the bathroom and after he did not come back for a while sent another boy to check on him and he had passed out on the bathroom floor.  A bit inglorious, for sure but boths students were fine.

All-in-all I had a remarkable career with the best students anyone could ask for.  

Thanks you, folks.

Selling Beer at the Derby

In the spring of 1975, my mother-in-law suggested that I take a job at the Derby, selling beer.  Apparently, a number of people where she worked had done so the year before and had made a bunch of money.  It seems that they sold 12 oz. beer for 65 cents and often got the rest of the dollar in tips. Being a man who has had over 50 jobs from the age of 14 until now, I decided that it would be pretty cool and maybe an adventure.  It wasn't cool but it was certainly an adventure. 

I was told to get in line for the infield with my work pass and that I had to be there by 7:00  AM.  Good, I thought, I am an early riser anyway and this way I would beat the crowd.  That was my first mistake.  I did not consider that this was the 100th anniversary of of the first running and they expected 100,000 people in the infield alone and the line was already six wide and 200 feet long when I arrived. Princess Margaret, of Great Britain, was going to be in attendance and there were all kinds of security including a number of blokes with british accents.  I was not carrying anything such as a bag and showed them my pass for the job of brew pourer and yet they searched me for booze and patted me down and asked me if I were bringing in any.  I laughed and reminded them that I was there to serve alcohol.  They didn't laugh.  Once in I finally found the tent where I was supposed to report, the man in charge said proudly that they had increased the size of the cups to 16 ounces and were now charging 95 cents per beer.  He said it was a service to the customer that they would not have to stand in long lines as often and the the increase in price was fair to all.  

I'll admit that 5.9 cents per ounce is not much worse than 5.4 cents per ounce but to me it looked like I would have less volume of customers and that the tips were going to be a whooping 5 cents per beer and I was sure that some would not even do that, especially the relative young ones.  I decided, at that point that I would require ID's from everyone who looked and acted like they were under 40, and I did.  That made the lines longer to no ones pleasure, except a little bit, mine.

This turned out to be the job from Hell.  Not only was I stuck all day in a beer booth pouring draft beer, but I had no way to get to the bathrooms.  My hand were sticky to the point of sticking together and the Sun was hot and uncomfortable. As predicted, there were more than 100,000 people in the infield with an average age of about 30, meaning that I ID'd a lot.  The bathrooms had line like the great wall of China and the women were using both men and women's facilities because the wait was hours for the women.  practically every inch of the ground was covered with human flesh, often doing what human flesh should have been doing in the privacy of ones bedroom.  I never ventured out of the booth after about 1PM and did not go to the bathroom until the races ended at about seven, I never saw a horse but I wagered early on the winning ticket which paid about 2-1.  I still have the ticket somewhere.   I was miserable all day long and had I been older and more secure, I would have quit and waded through the human refuge and gone home. But I had made a commitment, so, there I was. 

Other inconveniences include:

A weight lifter ordered a beer I reached for his dollar and he jerked it back and walked off through the crowd with the beer.  I'm not stupid and after that I took and tilled the money, first.  His fellow weight lifters were not so happy about that. Then they began hanging around the stand and after someone payed and got their beer, they would snatch it away and drink it.  One man complained to the security people, but when they saw the weight lifters, they dismissed it with "boys will be boys" and walked away.  That was an invitation for mischief and things got no better.  

A young man climbed the 40 foot flagpole and mooned the Princess and was handcuffed to my beer stand  until the could get a car ready to take him away. He could barely stand up, so I don't how he got up and down that flagpole. The biggest insult of all, one of my students, a tall blonde, scandinavian beauty named Lisa, sincerely thought that I would sell her a beer, knowing that she was 16 years old. I told her to try somewhere else At the end of the day, the final insult was a demand that I hand over all my tip money and they would send it back if the amount of beer I sold at my stand was correct for the money that I collected.  I then said that ,with what little tips I had, I was going to keep it and if things didn't turn out right to let me know I would sent them the money. YEAH, RIGHT. Believe it or not I got my pay in the mail.

I decided I just wanted to only teach.

The Senior-Faculty Softball Game

For a very long time, Seneca had a senior-faculty softball game, open to males and females near the end of each year.  Eventually, that duty fell to me to run it.  It was an opportunity to send them off with the memories of a good time and comradery with their former teachers.  It sounds all touchy-feely but it was always very serious on both sides.  I was always a bit taken aback by how much the teachers really wanted to win.  As it turned out, until the day that I transferred to Manual, the teachers never lost while I was organizing it.

Knowing that the students were younger, faster and with better reflexes, this seems, at least superficially, to be a strange thing.  But after analysis, maybe not.  Although the teachers are slower and maybe without all the athletic skills of their past, they are still stronger and many are coaches in some capacity.  We could for the most part hit the ball farther.  The other issues that favored the teachers is that we understood our handicaps and played smarter for that reason.  We always threw to the cutoff player, we did not play to be heroes but to win.  Three, we always played on the softball field with it's shorter fences.  and, four, Not all teacher wanted to play.  Those who did were usually former athletes and many of them softball and baseball player, some, including me, still playing in softball leagues around the city.

The seniors, on the other hand had 30-40 people sign up laboring under the illusion that they were ten feet tall and bulletproof.  They thought they could beat the world all in one softball game.  Consequently, the teachers were always had 15-16 competent players and the teams was passably good at all times.  We also had many large, strong men who could easily hit the ball over the fences, only two hundred feet away.  I placed them in the batting order every two or three hitters.  That way, we never had to run full out very often. There were a number of boys on the senior team that could do the same, but most were baseball player who had not played softball much.  There is a big difference in hitting a baseball and a softball pitched underhanded and with an arch of up to 12 feet.

There were a number of funny things happen in these games. but the two that comes to mind was a collision at home plate  and one that made a big splash.  We had a catcher who was a frequent substitute and thus considered by all to be a faculty member.  A dynamically sensuous and beautiful girl with adult female proportions was  on base and in an attempt to score she ran over the catcher and land on top of him.  After that he seemed to be in a daze the rest of the game and was not quite as good as he was before.

One year, we were playing on the "back" softball field that sat next to a branch of Beargrass Creek.  There was a young man at Seneca, who was considered a suave young man, always beautifully dressed with the best clothes he could buy.  His hair was always perfect and his manners always the best.  He was watching the game from behind the backstop when a ball was Fouled over the backstop heading for the creek.  The young man of note ran backwards and jumped to catch the ball.  The creek level was about 7-8 feet below the playing surface  From the third base position all I saw was him disappear over the edge and then a huge splash of water appeared.  He climbed out unhurt but very embarrassed and not looking quite so neat.

Even though the seniors never won, they were always good sports and each year the next class came in with the hope of defeating the always successful faculty.  I had a great job.

STICKS AND CLUBS

Teenagers can be very clever and quick witted.  I was walking through the cafeteria at Seneca after school one day and the field hockey team was meeting.  Being known a a big tease, I had to make a comment.  I asked them why no one had ever come up with a better name for the piece of equipment called a stick.  A girl looked up with a slight grin, knowing I was the golf coach, and asked, "And what is it they call that thing you hit golf balls with?"  The answer, as you know, is a club.  Great comback, I laughed out loud.

I had picked quite a few pounds over the years and a bit of a pot belly and jokingly said in class one day, I know there's a six pack under there somewhere.  A student retorted with, "Why do you need a six pack, you a have a perfectly good keg."

A fellow teacher was writing names of study hall student who would like to use the library and not wanting to admit that he could not remember a girls last names asked her to spell it.  With a straight face she, said "J-O-N-E-S.  the jig was up.

What a fun job.

Bubbleheads

There was a time in my career, before I transferred from Seneca to Manual, that I affectionately and, to a degree teasingly derisively, called my Advanced Program student bubbleheads.  If I remember correctly, there was no protest.  So I decided to do the same thing the next day with the same result.  As it turned out, they liked the tag and wore it like a badge of honor. That habit continued until 1987 when I transfered and died there. 

I asked a girl why no one reacted to the term and she said it was because it was me.  No one ever thought that it was said with anything but endearment.  Hmmm.  I probable teased the AP kids more than others.  They seemed to be more secure than others and were not threatened very much by my banter, which is exactly how I liked it.  

I will say one thing for bubbleheads, however.  They cheated more than any other group of students I ever taught.  I'm not exactly sure why but it may have something to do with the high expectations of parents, teachers and administrators.  Even friends got caught up in it.  Many of these kids were fighting and scrapping for scholarship money to college, they took every step they could, took every test possible such as PSAT,  AP tests, signing up for Governor's scholar positions, etc. that have possible scholarship money attached.  

My son Jeff got two full scholarships to U of Louisville because he was a Governor's scholar and a PSAT semi-finalist.  Fortunately GPA didn't count for this. Jeff was always around 3.0 just enough to stay in the AP program.  One of the smartest kids I have known. Both of my sons went to college on scholarships.  Both were on their respective high schools quick recall teams along with other highly motivated, and fiercely competitive kids.  My son, Brian, was the captain of his team at Male and a member of a very good Murray State University team.

All this competitiveness brought with it the desire to succeed at all cost and I think it included cheating.  Being caught, however had some serious consequences.  In my class, cheaters received a zero on the test and an "F" in conduct for the grading period, their parents got a phone call.  The students worried very little about the conduct grade because it did not affect their GPA.  Some parents made it important, however, and thus there was some stigma attached.

Even a cheating incident brought me to respect a kid very much.  One of my present Fb friends eventually told me a story that I did not remember at all.  He missed a day and consequently missed a quiz, which he could make up.  I told him that I would give it to him the next day.  He got with his cheating group and they furnished him with the correct multiple choice answers, sans the questions.  The young man took the quiz the next day and got a ten percent.  He realized then that I had changed the quiz.  I confronted him and said that I knew he had cheated and offered to give him another make-up the next day.  He held to his guns that he had not cheated because he did not want to lose my respect for him.  So I said OK and he got the bad grade.  He told me that it totally change his feelings on cheating and he never cheated again and actually lost a couple of friends because he would not abet in cheating.  You just never know what effect you have on people.  I wonder, sometimes, how many children I affected negatively.  I hope, not many.

Many of you who are Fb friends with me know that I have very strong political opinions and don't mind telling what they are.  I tried very hard to not let them be known in the classroom.  I felt that it would adulterate the issues we studied and possibly discourage some student from being open and honest.

One of my Fb friends, a former student definitely disagreed with me on many things but we were civil in our talks.  He wrote that he never knew what my political leanings were while he was in my class and he said it was a tribute to me.  Occasionally I had an opinion on other things.

In the process of discussing technology, really not my strong point and computers, also not my strong point, and this was in the early days were Bill Gates required sellers to load only Microsoft program on the machines.  I had read, and my son, a Computer systems engineer, told me that there were better products out there and Gates was stifling progress.  This met with a lot of resistance by all the PC users (most of them were) and it became a little heated and I became frustrated and said very loudly, "DAMN."  This caused an immediate and awkward silence and surprised and disappointed looks.  I was presenting the History Student of the Year award that same day at the Senior Ring Ceremony and when I was introduced I got a big applause that went on for some time.  I remarked that after second period class this morning, I'm surprised that some of you didn't walk out when I was introduced.  That got even a bigger applause.  Such forgiving souls.

MARY AND THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG

Wow, it has been a while.  It is not my policy to use people's last name in a blog, especially one which might make one feel uncomfortable and certainly with people I really like.  I have a funny, but, alas, a bit embarrassing story of a student report in which the last name is important to the humor.  So I messaged this woman and asked her if she would mind if I publish this story and she graciously consented.  Mary Heitz is a super  fine, lady and she was a fantastic student with great intelligence and caring.  I adored her in the class room.

As you may know, I did not like to teach the acts of war but preferred to deal with causes and effects and historical importance, but a lot of student like studying the Civil War and to make that OK for both sides I assigned battle reports for student to present to the class and I tried to tie the whole thing together in some coherent form.

I had the student chose three battles that they would be interested in and I would assign the battles first come, first serve.  I shuffled the papers and gave the student the battle first listed unless that battle had already been taken.  I then assigned the next one on the list.  As it turned out, by sheer coincidence (something it took me awhile to have Mary believe) Mary got assigned the Battle of Fredericksburg in Virginia.  unfortunately, there was a hill above the city named Marye's Heights, which ,at first glance, looks to be pronounced the same as Mary's name.  It is actually pronounced Marie's heights, but no one knew that at the time, including me.

In the course of reporting, Mary said something to the effect, The Confederate Army was on top of Marye's Heights and the Union Army assaulted Marye's Heights a number of( maybe 10, I don't remember) times.  I immediately picked up on the similarities in the names but hoped that no one else would.  Of course, some one did very quickly and began to laugh.  After all, it was a funny coincidence.  Mary, trying to concentrate on her presentation, did not realize the situation and heard the laughter and repeated the name of the hill a few time to try to figure out what was so funny.

Unfortunately I found myself in a position that dictated that a teacher should not laugh but I couldn't help it. The more Mary repeated the name, the funnier it got to me and the students in the class.  I was once in the church choir and the guy next to me said something funny and I started laughing and couldn't stop in front of the entire congregation and eventually ended up crawling out of the choir.  This was the same for me.

I laughed so hard that my sides began to ache, I got tears in my eyes, all the while feeling much remorse for my action and incredible sympathy for Mary.  It is an incident I deeply regret and Mary was a trooper.

It actually get worse, here.  After Mary graduated and I was pretty sure that none of my student knew her I began telling the story to my student and other teachers and the day came when I really was sorry for that, also. A few years down the road I was sitting in the first faculty meeting of the year at Seneca High School. and the Principal said, "I would like to introduce the new teachers this year,  first, someone many of you will remember, Mary Heitz."

Oh, my, this is not good.  After the meeting I caught Mary in the hall and awkwardly explained that I had been telling the story.  that is all the farther I got and she said you told people about the Battle of Fredericksburg.  I tried to soothe her by saying I never expected her to return but, she was rightly upset and I was, rightly, humbled and rueful.

Again, Mary was the better person and accepted the situation like an adult and accepted my apology.  Mary became a very successful educator and administrator and I do truly thank her for her consideration about this blog.  And, Mary, I really didn't set you up, I was just ignorant.  The laughing, that is another thing.  I have no excuses.  Bless you.

Samantha

There are so many examples of wonderful students, wonderful people who were my students and some time I get wonderful athletes that were wonderful people who were wonderful students. One of those is a young lady, first name, Samantha.  Because she is one of some local notoriety and since many of you know her personally, you will easily guess who she is but I will stick by my policies of only using first name.

I first got to know Samantha at Manual high school watching this tall thin freshman play basketball for the school.  At more than 6 feet tall she could have play forward or even center on some teams, but she was a guard and a superb on at that.  I never saw her show anger or disgust but she made her statement through her play and quiet competitiveness.  She never got in people faces or did anything to show off, but just did the job.

Later, she was one of my students in US History in her junior year.  By then she was well known among followers of girls athletics in Jefferson County and the state of Kentucky.  I found her to be humble, caring and congenial with all, respectful of her teachers and peers and never heard a bad word about her.  I was not sure if this was sincere but soon learned that it certainly was. I was watching her play one night and was sitting beside a female spectator and struck up a conversation.  While watching the game, I happen to say to her, do you see that player dribbling the ball, that is Samantha __________ and she is not only a great basketball player, but she is also a great person and student.  The woman turned to me and said, "Thank you, Samantha is my daughter."  We introduce ourselves and had a big laugh.  I told her that I needed to be the one thanking her for rearing such a great kid for the benefit of the world.  I think that may have embarrassed her.

Samantha went on to be an a star at Auburn, University in Alabama, and as far as I know, she still holds the school record for career three point shots made.  Samantha went into coaching and eventually made her way home and is now an assistant coach for Jeff Walz of the Louisville Cardinal women's basketball team.  A couple of years ago she had her number retired by Manual High School and I went to the game to see it.  I talked to her before the ceremony due to be done during half-time.  With her were a couple of players from the University of Louisville.  One was the now famous WNBA player and native-American ambassador, Shoni Schimmel.  Shoni found out that I was one of her teachers and asked me what Samantha was like in high school.  When I told her the truth, she asked me how much her coach had paid me to say that.  But that is how she is.  Samantha is one of the best.

This is the third time I have tried to post this entry.  The first time I left and forgot to the save it, the second, I tried to save it and failed.  this time I am not going to be interrupted and finally be able to just push publish and be done with it.

After joining Facebook and gathering a number of former students as friends, I began to realize that many of them no longer live in the community and many do not live in the city, the state or the country anymore.  I tried to go through my friends and count the one who were somewhere other than the US and with almost 900 friends, I became tired and gave up.

Some I can remember off the top of my head and I am sure I will not get them all.  Feel free to respond with others.

One of my students from quite a few years ago, is teaching ESL (I think) in  Thailand, and if you are following the news (or lack of it in today's egocentric press)  Things are not well there.  He is also very honest and out there in his Fb postings and I hope this does not cause him problems.

I have at least three students in England, one in Scotland and one that I know of in Ireland.  One is living in Italy and a couple live in South Africa.  So at this point I have covered three continents and except for North America, I don't of any other.  Australia is not covered, as far as I know, nor is South America  and I would love to know if anyone is living in Antarctica.   That would be cool. (Sorry)

One young lady lived in France and had her own baking business.  She has since returned to the Louisville area with her two beautiful daughters and we have lunch occasionally.

there are some in Canada and the last I heard, at least one in Mexico.  Let me also add Uzbekistan.

Some have moved often.  One of my earlier student first traveled with the Marines and after retiring, eventually found himself in Alaska.  From there, he and his wife moved to Hawaii, talk about your change in climate.  It wasn't long that the moved back to Alaska because of a better job offer and it is possible that they soon will be moving back to the Louisville area.  So, Tom, have you ever actually unpacked you suitcases over the years?  A student from a few years ago, at one time lived in Houston and now resides in Florida, as do many others; there are, at least two living in Washington State, two in Arizona, and a very large number in the states near Kentucky, particularly in Indian, Tennessee, and Ohio.  I know of one who is a teacher in Michigan,  and a number who live in New York City.  Many of those are actors and of those Lavon, a mother and actor, just finished a long stint in a big role on Broadway.

Other states and countries that I remember, would include, Missouri, Virginia, Both Carolinas, Georgia Louisiana, Colorado, California, and Montana.  At least no one has claimed North Dakota, which I contend does not exist.  Some other nations would be,  Germany, Poland, Denmark and, I think I remember Sweden.

If I have missed someone, please forgive me but do call me to task.

Much of this is a testament to  successful and adventurous lives and I am proud of so many of my former pupils who have made marks in life, those that have had successful unions, who have struck a blow for a better world by their actions and those have managed to survive and thrive during tough times and tragedies.  I have lost a number of them to death and many have had the lose of parents and other family members through the same.  I rejoice in their triumphs and cry in the dismay and mourning, and feel old in looking at pics of their children and, yes, grandchildren.

Many of the kids, will, by the fact that they live in non-English speaking nation, grow up bilingual and multilingual. Yes I realize, that bilingual is also multilingual, but, please pacify an old man. :) Those who do will have a great advantage. However, I never had trouble being understood by using a few words and sign language as I often did while living in Germany and the Czech Republic (Ceske)

I learned to speak one phrase in the Czech Republic with a perfect accent, jeste jedno pivo, prosem.  It means, I'll have another beer please.  You had to know I would get that one right. It is pronounced something  yestia yedno peevo proseem.)

To all of my student, I salute you in the things you have done and the lives you have touched.  Keep up the fight and know that there is someone who cares.

Just remembered another state, Alabama. Sorry Krishna.

One of my students, Jill, was winner of the Kentucky Junior Miss Pageant and qualified to represent the state in national competition. She was and, I assume is still, a wonderful singer and a great personality. She did not receive the national titles but we were very proud of her. a year of two later I was playing on a softball team that was mixed men and women and it was held at one of the local YMCA sites. While walking to the playing field for our first game with a friend who was also on the team, I saw a beautiful young woman running across the field and threw her arms around me and told me how nice it was to see me. It was Jill, who was now working at the "Y" between college years. We talked a while and my friend stood and watched with a strange look on his face. Later on the bench he kept nudging me and finally I asked him what he wanted. He asked who that stunning young lady was and why she was hugging me on a softball field. I simply replied that she was the former Kentucky Junior Miss. I later explained. I eventually quit that team because the men were batting natural and not opposite of the their natural side, left v right, and I found it to be dangerous for some of the less experienced women.

SHONI SCHIMMEL I understand that this blog is about teaching and students and there is a special feeling in my heart for all the former students I have had along the way. Today, I want to deviate just a bit. My, son, my wife and I have been U of L women's basketball season ticket holders going into our 8th year. Even though I actually seldom meet the young ladies that play on the team, I do, in a way, feel much the same about them as I do my former pupils and I also see many of my past charges at the games. Last night, July 19th, I watched one of the Cards grads set the court on fire in the WNBA All-Star game in Phoenix, Arizona. She put on an awesome display of basketball wizardry. Shoni Schimmel, a native American from Oregon and former reservation resident, put on a show that will not long be forgotten in a game that is often forgettable. Not only will this game be remembered, 125-124 in overtime, but Shoni will become legendary in the collective memory of the fans. Shoni scored 29 points, a record for an all-star game, including 7 three-pointers, had 8 assists, some due to amazing no-look passes, with some behind the back and behind the head executions. She also managed to get 5 rebounds. She was voted the games Most Valuable Player and was exceptionally gracious, staying and taking photos with her wonderful family, opponents, and fans for a very long time. What I like most about Shoni and her younger sister, Jude, a U of L senior in the approaching season, is that they have become icons among the native Americans, especially among those who feel trapped on Reservations across America. Both the Schimmel sister work tirelessly for the cause of the native-american population. Jude has done enough that a national magazine has named her one of the ten most remarkable college women in America. Her 3.8 something GPA didn't hurt either. Because of Shoni's fame, she has been the one most renowned and both the sisters take on that tiring roll with decorum and humility. I applaud them and I, too, look to them for inspiration as I do for many to my former students who have shown strength and resilience in difficult and tiring situation. I think we may be leaving this world in better hands than we ever anticipated. Here's to the youth.

MY STUDENTS TOOK CARE OF ME It never ceased to amaze me how my students took up for me in very subtle situations. In some of the less disciplined class I had, I would often need to stop instructions and reminds student that the real reason for being there was to learn, not socialize. Some days it was a serious battle. Those classes transformed into the most respectful and interested students when I was occasionally evaluated which each teacher is supposed to experience each year or two. On those occasions, the student looked at me (a rarity) raised their hands, asked questions and actually paid attention. After the administrator would leave I often asked them "Who are you and what have you done with my class?" On one occasion, I very vocally sent a student down with a referral that she was totally disrespectful of me, threw books across the classroom, cussed like a sailor and screamed at the top of her lungs. I slammed the door and turned around and faced my class and said with a smile, "I'm sorry you had to witness that." they applauded. The girl was suspended and after returning the counselor assigned her to another history teacher until the girl protested that she wanted to back in my class because she really liked me. The councelor called and asked if that
would be OK with me. Sure I said, if she acts like that with a teacher she likes, I can't imagine how she would act if she didn't like her new teacher. I accepted her with certain behavior requirements and she was an angel the rest of the year. Man, you never know.

THE LONGEST BLOG SO FAR, THE SLAVE GAME KIDNAPPING When teaching the Civil War I devised a simple question and answer competition with a twist. By lots, I divided the student into slaves and owners. Actually they worked as a team with the owner being in charge and the one who gave the official answers to questions. I made “slave money” of my own design and ran it off on an old steno machine. It was very detailed and haphazard in order to keep my student from counterfeiting. I dealt out an even amount of money for each team. Each team could wager as much as they wished on any question. There ways provided for the slave to become free and for owners benefit either by trying to deny the freedom of their slaves or for cooperating in their freedom. Those were situational issues. The number of questions answered, multiplied by the size of the wagers, determined the amount of dollars the the teams had and this was part of what determined their grade. Since these were honors and advanced student this often caused much stress. Considering that there were no limits on the wagers, the money amounts could become extensive and for that I had blank checks that I could sign. All kind of strategies came up spontaneously about thing I never considered, such as, “may I lease a slave to another group.” This happened when a slave was very well versed or wise. “May I trade slaves with another owner.” “May I sell a slave to another owner.” “May I refuse to cooperate if my owner is not treating me correctly.” I tried to make my answers as true to the actual slave customs of the pre-Civil War Southern society as I could. All these had to be dealt with within the game and each year, the game became more refined because of them. These were very sharp teens and thus, each year the game became much more complex and sophisticated and, for the most part, better. I tried to remain flexible as much as I could and I tried to keep the game as realistic as possible. The questions for the game were created by me. The first year I spend many, many hours finding and writing these questions, I estimate about 2000 of them. Some were easy, some were difficult and many were actually taken from our textbook and and other classroom supplemental material. Many were taken from the many specific books within my own library, thus some questions were very esoteric and some were quite general. When a question was missed I put it back into the stack and asked the same question at a different time or date. I always shuffled the 3X5 index card in which he questions were written. Occasionally we would have a bid on a question. As the game progressed I witnessed some sophisticate organizing I have ever seen student create. Some organized by subject, others by date, etc. With the internet and Google, this game would not work with the extensive ability to gather specific info, this game would no longer work under this format. Because these questions were so incredibly valuable to the students, I had to take great precautions that the answers did not get out. Would AP students's cheat. You must be kidding. They would cheat more than any other groups I taught. I believe that there is often so much pressure for grades from the level of student that many, not all, of them would take every edge they could get, even out and out cheating and with some of amazing strategy that have witnessed from teens. Even their cheating was impressive. And that statement leads me into one of the most incredible classroom situation I have ever participated in or I ever heard of. If you have not read my post about the “Stick,” you may want to read it now, because is about to become the focus object of an amazing story. Basically the stick was a custom altered window closer that I carried everywhere and held it while I was teaching. One year, during the Slave Game, I was delivered a note from the office during my planning period. It read something like, “Mr. McAdams, your stick has been kidnapped and if you ever want to see it alive again, please follow these instruction precisely and completely. I day later I was delivered a note to go to the Library and on shelf such and such pull the book that is fourth from the left and look on page so and so and find more instructions. This part I really like, the name of the book was Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.. How about that, sports fans? Things progressed quickly from there. I was subsequently instructed to bring, lets say, $12,000,000 in slave money and to place it in a particular locker in the locker well on the third floor and immediately walk away. I exactly followed the instructions with a couple of secret maneuvers that set the culprits up for detection and doom. I made more money with my initial template except for a couple of additional readable but ultimately subtle marks that one had to look for to find. I also arranged for the audio visual department to secretly tape the whole procedure from a class room across the hall with the classroom lights out and the shades drawn so they would not be detected. With that information secured the next day and with my stick being returned early that day. no worse for wear, I asked all the teams to let us count their money in order to see if I needed to make change of what money I had available and then confiscated the money of the team that had perpetrated the kidnapping “put them under arrest and announced that we would have a slave trial to determine guilt or innocence.” they did have the marked money and I had the taping in hand and proceeded to assign Lawyers, jurors, a bailiff, court recorder, and a judge (me) and the trial began. I managed to get a riser from the drama department and had my desk raised to a higher level from the floor. And I got a robe from the choir room for me to wear as the judge. The trial was not going well for the defendants and they were getting desperate considering their grade was on the line. I might note that no one was going to fail this game with the worse team receiving a “C.” they tried a plea bargain but the opposing attorney wisely turned them down because he/she had a strong case. They tried begging. Didn't work. They tried throwing themselves on the mercy of the court. There was none. a day or so into the trial a man showed up at my door with what looked like a big suitcase and shook my hand and said he was an operator for the company that conducted polygraph tests for the Louisville Police Department and when he saw my blank expression he said that is was his understanding that I had requested a demonstration; I had not. As it turned out, one of the defendants father worked with the police and she had arranged this to happen. She stood and proposed that I be put on the lie detector machine and be interrogated by her. What she planned to ask I do not know, but the guest assured her that they never put teachers on the machine but they would students. The student who had arranged this, Aileen, was thus given a lie detector test after the opposing lawyer gave the operator a list of questions he wanted asked. Aileen failed miserably. They were convicted and none of their money was returned. In fairness I extended the game a couple of days and they were able to borrow money from the bank less interest and was able to come back quite a bit ( it helped that they were very organized and sharp) and their grades were not disastrous. I feel that this event was unprecedented, even unique in the annuls of education. It was cleverly done and an amazing amount of fun was had by almost everyone. I can't believe how blessed I was in my career.

For a number of years I shared a ride to work and back with another teacher. At the time I was driving an F-100 pick-up truck without air bags and I don't remember if it had seat belts. It had a one barrel carburetor (does anyone remember those)that I actually rebuilt. One day, as we were leaving school, we were traveling down a neighborhood road and there was a squirrel in the road having a snack. I jokingly said, " hey let's see if I can hit this squirrel." I assumed that it would see a two-ton bright red, relatively loud vehicle approaching on a road with no other traffic. Bad calculation. I ran over the animal which was accompanied with two distinct thumps, one each from a front and a back wheel. I was upset and had some strong feelings of guilt. The other teacher, I think, believed that I actually was trying to kill the squirrel. I was, instead, just being stupid. It took me a few years to convince my friend that it was unintentional. I find that with age you make those types of decisions less often, but, in my case, never eliminate them.

One in a Million
About half way through my career as a teacher and coach, I was walking through what was called the Old Gym that also functions as an auditorium.  A few student were shooting baskets as was often the case after school.  Steve, who was a student of mine, challenged me to take a shot.  I was dressed in slacks, shirt and tie and, despite that, took the challenge.

My thought process went something like this.  If I shoot a lay-up that will impress no one and they will let me know just that.  If I shoot a 15 footer, they will figure it was luck and make me shoot another. but if I took a shot from the corner of the half court (about 50 feet) I wouldn't be expected to hit it and if I even came close, it would be a victory. So, that was my choice. You have to hedge your bets.

I set my feet at shoulder width apart, Got my elbow under the ball, remembered to finish with a good follow through, and heaved the ball as hard as I could toward what appeared to be a backboard the size of a textbook and cast my fate to the wind.  I wished to touch iron but would be satisfied with touching anything before the floor.  The ball traveled in an amazing arc, for what seemed to be about 5 minutes and dropped through, touching nothing but net, about the only way one can hit a shot from 50 feet.  I was in shock.  I don't hit those often.

There was, for an extended second, an amazing silence and then uproar with the kids falling down laughing.  They rushed over with high fives and congratulations and of course offered for me to do it again.  I declined and stated that I had already proven what I could do and I hustled out of the gym as fast as my feet could carry me.  Had I missed that shot, which I truly thought would happen, it would have been lost to all memories, but I didn't and those kids, and I, would remember the successful one.  That is the way my student were.  Great bunch of kids.  I really had a great job.

GETTING TO KNOW MY STUDENTS

Although many teachers would never admit it, each teenager he/she has ever had in class are complex and emotional and fragile human beings. Since I enjoyed being a bit more involved with my pupils than some other teachers, it took me longer to reach our level comfort and familiarity. I always needed to tread lightly at the beginning to know what each would accept. I don't want to tease a kid about being tall/short/ red haired, etc. If they are sensitive in that area. Some kids love teasing, others do not and I wanted to learn all those sensitivities first. Some students stay very quiet and care to remain less conspicuous and I honor that need.It does not mean that I don't call on them in class, but it certainly means that I don't draw undue attention to them.

 It is really important for future communications that one does not breach that trust. There were times when a student responded in class that I would joke about something he/she said. With others I would not. I discovered that macho males respected a show of force on occasion and in at least one time when I got up in a boys face in a somewhat threatening manner that student became much more respectful of me and almost defensive of me with others. If I saw a quite introverted student who seemed distressed or distracted, I might take a second after class and ask if everything was OK. The one thing I had trouble doing was to allow that person the privacy to say, “I don't want to talk about it.” that happened on occasion.

One girl fell up against my chest and started crying and told me that she thought she was pregnant and seemed to find solace in the fact that I was not going to judge her, just be a friend at that moment. It turned out that she was not pregnant. Another asked if she could come by just to talk. When she came by after school she began to tell me that she lived with her grandmother and that her granny was so old fashioned that she was not allowed to a lot of things that other teens were able to do. She had a twin brother and he was treated much more liberally than she was and she thought that that was not fair. For more than an hour she poured out her concerns to me and for the most part, I asked a few questions, consoled a bit  and asked her to consider her grandmother perspective. Other than that I did almost nothing but listen to her. When she was finally finished, she got up in the motion of leavings looked at me and said, “Thank you, Mr. McAdams, you have really helped a lot.” Sometime they just need someone to listen to them.

One Freshman asked me to beat up a senior for him. In discussing why, he told me that this guy had been a hero to him while growing up in their neighborhood and had treated him rather well. But when he became a Freshman in school, the senior would not even talk to him in the halls and lunchroom. I tried to explain as best I could that there was some pressure to be cool and that did not mean being friends with underclassmen. I suggested that he talk to him out of school and try to work things out. In this case I intervened a bit and told the senior how the Freshman felt. He was surprised that it had hurt him that much. It seems they worked things out.

Teens are such a maze of emotions to begin with and that time of their lives is such a traumatic one,  puberty and the accompanying body changes, need for popularity, degree and strengths of sexual desires they have never experienced, the looming separation anxiety of leaving home for college, the peer pressure to fit in is never stronger than in the teen years.  I think we make a big mistake by telling them that these are the best years of their lives and to enjoy it while they can. Nothing is farther from the truth. We adults have selective memories about our adolescence. Let them be anxious, let them fret and just be there for them when they think they can't deal with it alone. These are fascinating people with immature and mature problems and are in a learning process of how to handle it. It surprises me how well they handle such fears and angst.

Following the rules

I was perceived by many teachers as a troublemaker, because I brought up problem in our system within the school.  If a rule was instituted and I didn't like it, I said so and tried to discuss it.  It was then assumed that I would not follow that rule.  That would be wrong.  I was and am a chronic rules follower.  An example was the rule that if a student was tardy one time, mark them as tardy. second time assign additional work and the third time refer them to the front off where some asst. Principal would assign them some punishment.  I always followed that rule.  Ironically, I saw some of those same people who thought of me as a rebel allow student in and never mark them tardy at all.

One day, Becky, one of the nicest and best students I ever had and whose mother worked in the central office down stairs, was late and,being the fine person that she was, she was running to get to my class since she knew I would follow the rule.  As she approached the door the tone sounded and she was officially late.  Becky fell and slid into my door and hit her shin on it which, I am sure hurt a lot.  Since Becky was a softball players, I made the appropriate safe gesture moving my arms from center to the outside and calling, "safe." It was a bit mean but, later, Becky and I laughed about it. To add insult to injury, it was her third tardy.  I had to write her up and send her away.  Here is the type of family these people were.  They were.  Both Becky and her mother totally understanding and stood behind me.  I really had a great situation, for the most part.

Remembering some specific students

Today, at my eye exam, I was speaking with a lady who graduated from Seneca the year I started and she mentioned a number of students she knew who went there.  It was amazing how many names I remembered and for most, I could remember what they looked like, and in some instances, I even remembered something about them or, on some occurrences,  that the two of us were involved with.  It is really interesting how much effect my students had on my life.

It is also interesting how reinvolved some of them have become in my life.  Three of my former  Seneca students are owners of two Restaurants, both in Jeffersontown, and one former student is part owner in another.  I see them often.  Another was, for a while, my next door neighbor.  Another was a policeman that responded to an accident that I had witnessed.  Another Manual student lived for a while in France but we tried to  share lunch each time she came back for a visit.  She. now lives nearby.  An emergency room doctor at Baptist East was a student of mine and I see him during various visits there.

A surprisingly large number became fellow teachers with me.  I did the same with some of my teachers.  My former daughter-in-law and my son, met through a Seneca extra-curricular activity and she now teaches at my second school, Manual.  I have lost maybe 20 or 30 of them because of their deaths.  I am amazed how much that sorrowed me.  It was almost like they were my own kids and each year, when they graduated, I had some strong feelings of loss and stronger feelings of pride for them.  One senior girl, on the goodbye walk through the halls of Seneca, came over and planted a kiss right on my mouth.  I was a bit embarrassed but I certainly remember it well.  She is, as are many, a facebook friend.

for the most part, the vast majority of my student that I still know have become wonderful citizens and scholars, even if they did not attend college, They're good parent and, in many cases, grandparents, many with grandchildren much older than my own.

I just can't adequately expressed how my students, as a group, and some individual ones have blessed my life.

One December on the day before the last day of school before the winter holidays, I jokingly told one of my classes that the best Christmas present for me would that none of them show up for class tomorrow.  The next day I enter class to find only one student sitting there.  We were both very confused and I began to wonder if there was an assembly that I didn't know about or maybe I had missed a fire drill.  The lone student and I began to investigate.  We noticed there were students in other classrooms (not many considering what day it was)  I asked other teachers if they had seen my kids and the answer was no by all except one English teacher.  I looked in the window of the door of her classroom and there sat my class.  When I entered they all began to laugh as did the teacher who was in on the joke. The lone student who did show up was upset that he was not told about the caper. I really loved my students.