ADDICTION OF AN ELECTRONIC KIND

At times, one is mystified how quickly humans develop addiction to things and adopt life style habits to accommodate their insatiable craving. Electronic addiction began with Bell’s telephone, crept in slowly with radio in the early twenties, expanded to television, accelerated in the seventies with the arrival of video games, and exploded when personal computers arrived on the scene. Today—with the combining of several communication technologies—society faces a full-fledged electronic dependence of gigantic proportion.

With the advent of cell phones, things began to change—rapidly. Where as before, callers had restricted mobility governed by the length of cord attached to hard-wired phones, cell phones gave unlimited mobility and availability to anyone with access to wireless technology.

As technology advanced, several electronic inter-relationships were created. Telephones, television, video games, computers, calculators and a sundry of gadgets formed the Internet’s mosaic of electrons and silicon circuits. Soon, a tsunami of microwave frequencies covered nearly every nook and cranny of planet Earth. Everyone, it seems wanted to peek through Microsoft’s Windows or take a healthy bite of the newest computerized Apple.

With the acceleration of technology, everyone could be in touch—anywhere, anytime. Using the appropriate device, one can watch movies, read books, check email, play games, plan schedules, list appointments, listen to music, talk, or text. Should one be so inclined, pictures and photographs can be transmitted instantaneously recording the present, moments before it becomes the past. As long as power is available, one has command of the information world at their fingertips: via desktop, laptop, brief case or shirt pocket.

But these advances come with a price. There is a type of electronic isolation that is unsettling: chips and circuitry erode personal face-to-face contact. In the years BC (Before Computers) individuals would actually visit with each other—in person. As wonderful as the telephone is, most conversations were prelude to an actual get together where one could experience and exchange human interaction through body language, eye contact, touch as well as words. One received a sense of connection by processing the emotional immediacy of transmitted signals to the senses.

Radio, unlike telephones or television, gives one the freedom to listen and do other things. Housewives in the 30’s and 40’s listened to radio programs while completing domestic chores. Old time radio was user-friendly, hands-free imagination. Household duties continued uninterrupted while listening to one’s favorite broadcast. As radios became more portable, listeners could enjoy programs wherever they chose. The distraction or loss of focus while listening to the radio was minimal. Television—not so much. Ears are far superior for multi-tasking than are eyes.

With television, further changes entered the American scene. Dinner hour now had an additional guest at the table, or, in front of TV trays. Family conversation was curtailed as watching took priority over talking. Television required a “captive” audience. It didn’t take long for television to separate family members requiring additional TV sets within the house. Competition between phone and screen vied for attention. Both appliances encourage a degree of solitary privacy. Multi-task activities are not compatible with TV viewing. Nevertheless, America eagerly embraces members of the electronic family and their offspring.

In contemporary society, it seems too many people believe they can multi-task using their eyes and still stay focused on primary activities. How many drivers talk on the phone while driving and get so involved in conversation they lose concentration and jeopardize others in traffic? Countless people, with thumbs flashing across keypads, text as they drive, walk, cross the street or try to do other things. Is it not possible to dine out without answering the cell phone? And why is there such a need to share one’s conversation with the entire restaurant? Is it too much of a mental task to turn off one’s cell phone during church service? Is one so consumed with their own self-importance that they need to be wired so strangers can see their electronic devices and secretly envy them? In funeral homes during wake services, cell phones signal one’s insensitivity. Videos flood the Internet with “electronic addicts” who walk into walls, fall into fountains, and damage vehicles, while texting. At sporting events, social gatherings, shopping malls, stores, classrooms, hallways, automobiles, and even public restrooms--addiction to texting is rampant. Can anyone be this important—or this lonely?

In order to curb addiction of an electronic kind, there is need for higher degrees of self- discipline, better decision-making, and a willingness to use these devices responsibly.

January

January believes it has squatter’s rights to the calendar because it is first in line. With a full month of thirty-one days, the first holiday of the year--New Year’s Day, and its menu of weather-related entrees, who can argue with such chronoscopic arrogance? Named after Janus, a Roman god of beginnings and endings, openings and closings; Janus is always portrayed as having two faces, one looking forward, one backward. January is his month because it is the time when the sun starts to return. He is the doorkeeper who watches over the entrance or beginning of the year.

Part of January’s prominence is due to the ritual of formulating one’s personal intentions and plans for the New Year. Amid celebrations with noise makers, confetti, and renditions of Auld Lang Syne at the stroke of midnight, people across the globe usher in the latest allotment of days by making resolutions, commitments, and hopeful toasts for laughter, love, good health and good fortune. Party hats and glasses filled with libation complete a resume worthy of January’s namesake. Such frenzy at the start of a New Year, looking both forward and backward is enough to give a Roman god whiplash.

But January is more than just a party and pretty faces. It is a time when winter displays its full strength and control on all living things. Freezing temperatures, icy roads, cold gloomy days, crystal clear dark nights and occasional visits of bright sunshine fill this initial cluster of days. January is both predictable and unpredictable. As the earth continues to orbit around the sun, daylight lengthens—first by a stingy few minutes, then, toward the end of the month, more generously. But January exacts a price for this additional sunlight by delivering only brightness while holding back on warmth. And just to remind us of its adventurous nature, January whips up on a moments notice, icy soufflés, snow drifts, and pellets of freezing rain that cover cars, coats and roadways with an abundance of freezy skid-stuff which challenge both ambulatory and driving skills. January’s precocious behavior keeps insurance agents and body shops well supplied with patrons who literally meet by accident. All these fender benders make Janus smile. Rumor has it that January invented wind chill. This is one month that is forever trying to stay young, with its thermometer readings usually in the teens or twenties. At times it regresses to single digits and below zero in an attempt to display total disregard for maturity. And, every now and then, just for laughs—a blizzard! If January wants a little more respect, it should change its ways by offering an annual Tax Freeze—and forget about the ice and snow. Being the time when we receive our W-2’s doesn’t do much either. But for those of us who celebrate their birthday in January—either Capricorn or Aquarius--we wholeheartedly appreciate the antics of this month. It is difficult to explain, but January makes us smile.

To inhabitants who live at forty-two degrees North Latitude, January is add-an-extra-blanket month, turn up the thermostat time, put on layers of flannel and get dressed before going to bed. Cuddling and snuggling is mandatory nightly behavior. January is a steaming hot cup of coffee before dawn, hot soup at lunch, and suppers served on heated plates. January is scurry from store to warm car, store to warm car, store to warm house. January is when shoppers use extra gas searching for parking spaces closer to the mall’s entrance. January is watching wildlife enjoy the bounty at feeders you keep filled. January is when school kids return to classrooms and moms regain the sanity of daily routine. January is when everyone considers heating their garages. January is the time when landscapers offer discounts for mower tune-ups and lawn care service. January is finding the courage to face both darkness and cold fetching the morning paper, setting out trash and letting Fido do his business. It’s also a time when residents battle nasty conditions taking down outdoor Christmas decorations. January is chapped lips, dry skin, red noses, watery eyes, cold feet and chilled bodies. January holds mystery why kids are impervious to frigid temperatures, revel in snow, enjoy sliding on ice, and rarely have their scarf tied or jacket fully zipped; while seasoned human units hunker down, stooped shouldered shivering to keep warm. January is a geriatric obstacle course. January is wool hats, mittens and boots. January teases and taunts one to move to lower latitudes.

By the end of the first thirty-one days, January is pretty much spent and willingly turns things over to February. As daylight increases, January’s envious look knows there will never be a draft to serve another monthly term. January is my favorite month—enjoy.

The Power of Words

As children, we learn our ABC’s and readily sing the alphabet song on cue. At such a young age we treat the learning of the alphabet as a novelty and do not realize the importance or power of the letters we voice. Later on, as we add the ability to read and write to our inventory of skills, we begin to understand the value and significance of our ability to convey and decode the symbols of our language. As our communication improves we realize several factors are interrelated and interconnected which add to the effectiveness of words: volume, body language, vocal expression, word choice, and emotional mindset. It does not take long for human beings to capture the essence of language and the meaning of spoken words. Using sight and sound we interpret, catalogue, react, and respond to information delivered to us. Language is essential to meet daily basic needs.

In school, we spend the first three years of school learning how to read; from fourth grade on, we use reading to learn. In the United State of America the language is English. No other language offers such a choice or range of vocabulary, meanings, interpretation, versatility, application, inventiveness, adaptation, and changeableness. English is truly a living language. Each year, new words are added to the lexicon. Familiar terms are given added definition; Parts of Speech are reassigned to meet public usage, as we continually remodel the forty-two sounds of our alphabet, making them suitable to meet contemporary need and modern living. When I was a kid the word “party” was a noun: “I’m going to a party.” Today, it has become a verb: “Let’s party!”

Years ago, having a mouse in your house was met with panic and baited traps. Today, most desktop computers come with a “mouse” and it is handled with care and given its own pad. The list of such modifications is mind-boggling.

How powerful are words? Next to heartbeats and breathing, words are what give human beings life. In 1957, as a junior at Whiting High School struggling with English, my teacher, Mr. Ulrich, gave me a packet of alphabet cards. “What this?” I asked, “I know the alphabet.” He then taught me the greatest lesson about English. “If you learn to select the right letters, for the right words, at the right time, the world is yours” In a very succinct manner, Mr. Ulrich explained the power of words. Thank what words can do: they can make one happy, sad, cry, smile, laugh, joyful, disappointed, excited, anxious, pleased, and proud. Words can convey appreciation, value, importance, success, failure, accomplishment, recognition, praise, emotion, regret, struggle, trust, honor, affection and respect.

How many times have feelings been hurt because of unkind words? How often have we felt embarrassed, ashamed, rejected or lonely because of hurtful language? Regardless whether such words are written or spoken, the impact is profound.

In contrast, recall the exhilarating feeling when one is the recipient of caring, loving words; recognition for accomplishment, achievement, special occasions or appreciation of friendship. Conveyed electronically or delivered by mail; on fancy stationery, notebook paper, or in person—the heart swell with delicious feelings of goodness, appreciation, thoughtfulness, and love.

Of all the powerful words there are special, vitally important words that define us. As humans we are flawed and prone to make mistakes: most of the time these mistakes are minor, insignificant in nature that does not affect daily life. These periodic miscues are part of growing up, learning experiences, and general interaction with environment and people. Occasionally, however, we commit mistakes that cause pain, suffering, anxiety, stress, and long-lasting consequence. Whether unintentional or on purpose, by commission or omission, we know there is never an excuse not to be kind. Even so, we sometimes say and do unkind things. Once offensive words are conveyed—they remain. You cannot put toothpaste back in the tube. What, then, does one do to heal the wound of unkindness?

We have to make choices in the way we use words? We can use them for criticism, contempt, defensiveness, selfishness and meanness. The tongue and pen can be used to praise or curse, hate or cherish, despise or admire. But if we believe that communication—the power of words—serves to strengthen relationships and provide ways to reshape all persons for the better, we must willingly bestow the gift of forgiveness—to others and ourselves. For with forgiveness, there is love; and love enables us to see with our heart. Such is the power of words.

October's Glory

You’d think that any month holding title to eighth place and then unceremoniously moved down to number ten would be resentful, not October. In spite of the calendar shenanigans of Julius and Augustus Caesar, October accepted its new position in the solar line up in tenth spot, and embellished its allotment of thirty days with exuberance and enthusiasm.

As a full-fledged member of autumn’s sweet-sad season, October brims with delicacies left over from summer’s frivolity as well as presenting its special menu of prepared entrees. Teasing everyone and everything with occasional flashbacks of sun-drenched beach parties, October delivers hours of abundant sunshine and bright blue sky that make music for senses. Elevated temperatures, give vegetation encouragement to feast on nutrients causing lawns to thrive and mowers to mulch. Resident wildlife scurries with added opportunity to prepare stores for upcoming adverse weather conditions; and people display their approval by filling mall parking places, athletic fields, and partaking in activities that commune with nature.

October is also in charge of changing seasonal scenery from full to partial sun, earlier sunsets, morning fog, cool evenings, and drenching inhabitants with light from a harvest moon. Nighttime is no longer filled with a symphony of sound. Dark hours are now more muted and subdued as nocturnal activity is redirected to more pressing tasks. Leaves begin their dance with the sun and wind. Simultaneously changing hue and tint, they twist and turn with every gust of wind displaying an artistry of movement that dazzles the eye and engender envy in those who view themselves as athletic.

When October’s wind imitates November, leaves are separated from their branches and sail about, floating, spinning, displaying their aerodynamics abilities as they land on neighboring turf. Millions upon millions of leaves find rest on mother earth as their function of purpose is complete. Soon landscapes are carpeted with autumn leaves from every variety of tree, bush and shrub, awaiting young-at-heart feet to shuffle through piles of dried deciduous cornflakes as they crunch their way to and from, school and play. Only oak trees stubbornly hold their leaves fast to the branches throughout autumn. In winter, the chocolate-colored vegetation from these acorn makers will afford stark contrast to snow-covered latticed branches of leaf-bare trees.

When October realized it was being reassigned placement on the monthly annual it decided to be a full-service participant. There is something for everyone: sight, sound, scent, and touch. October is a sensory extravaganza. Throughout October’s thirty-one days, the moon will take time to play peek-a-boo with precocious clouds, shining full strength, then, like a bashful child, provide frosty luminous moonlight when hiding behind clouds as they float by. Weather will cooperate by allowing convertibles to travel top-down celebrating good times. Sweethearts of all ages will join hands and hearts as they journey through days, forming bonds, sharing moments of melancholy remembrance of times gone by and favorite memories. Each of us in our own way finds time to acknowledge, treasure, and appreciate October’s moments to remember. Saturday afternoons in the fall are like precious jewels. Sundays have a tranquil, easy peaceful feeling as the season of autumn beckons for a slower pace than the preceding hectic summer. This time of year is when nature willingly accepts October’s recycling materials as flowers, garden remnants and trees return their bounty to mother earth. Fringe benefits include the perfume of burning autumn leaves, the scent of early morning dampness as blankets of fog become gossamer droplets of dew by the warmth of early morning sun. Crystal clear October nights is delicious and crispy like fresh potato chips. Bathed in moonlight under a sky quilted with stars, romantics share hopes and dreams and wonder at the majesty of the universe. The sight of ducks and geese winging southward toward warmer climes, quacking and honking their exuberance in appreciation for the summer just past is a signal that change is coming. Early on, these fair weather creatures decided that rock salt and snow shovels are not for them. Permanent wildlife residents search out nooks and crannies in which to hunker down during the frigid cold and snowy winter weather. Human residents begin their preparation for seasonal change, too. Lawn mowers are replaced by snow blowers, furnaces take over from air-conditioners, and staying indoors become more attractive that being out-of-doors. Sweaters, windbreakers, blankets and hot cocoa are now more prevalent than tank tops, sandals, and ice tea.

October is the time of harvest as the bounty of one’s labors is displayed for all to see and enjoy. The glory of October is that it provides the means for all of us to taste the sweetness of autumn. October can be an attitude or an age. It can be a time for renewal or reflection, continuation or beginning. The fall of the year can bring forth memories or adventurous moments. Such is the glory of October.

Paperboy

My first paying job was that of paperboy in 1952. Previous employment was self-motivated, scavenging discarded soda bottles for the two-cent deposit from neighborhood alleys, and winter snow shoveling. My intent was to find a job with consistent cash flow to meet growing economic and social needs. Jobs were limited for an eleven year-old sixth-grader: too young to set pins at the Whiting Community, and lawn care jobs were sporadic. Money was scarce; I was more broke than the Ten Commandments.

Gathering my courage, I went to the Paper Store and applied. Most everyone in Whiting referred to the Whiting News Company as “The Paper Store.” Initially I met with the owner, Mr. Chrustowski and he outlined the scope of the job. Shortly thereafter, I met Mr. Serafin—everyone called him “Dutch.” He was in charge of the paperboys. Somehow, my application was accepted and I was assigned afternoon delivery for my street, Cleveland Avenue --Route 6B. The job paid $5.90 per week. Job responsibilities included delivery of The Chicago Daily News, Chicago Herald-American, and Hammond Times. In addition, we collected weekly bills, kept track of customer accounts, and kept current, the stops and starts of paper delivery. Cleveland Avenue, because of its number of customers was one of Whiting’s highest paid paper routes. All told, I had 162 afternoon papers to deliver Monday through Saturday.

During orientation, Mr. Chrustowski and Dutch emphasized the necessity of being on time, putting the paper on the porch, stoop, or steps. If delivered during inclement weather, it was our responsibility to protect the paper from adverse weather. In those days, there were no plastic bags and most porches were not enclosed. Often, the paperboy would walk up on the porch and place it in a container by the front door, or in an area where the customer could readily retrieve it. We were cautioned not to toss the paper in bushes, flowerbeds, or on porch roofs. Complaints about poor delivery or misbehavior by unhappy subscribers would be grounds for dismissal. Each paperboy was provided a canvas pouch with a large shoulder strap in which to carry papers. Fully loaded with afternoon editions and slung over one shoulder, a paperboy tilted Earth-like, about 23-1/2 degrees off plumb as he walked his route. A few of the guys had bicycles and they would balance their bag load of papers over the front fender. In a single motion, while steering the bike with one hand, they would pull a paper from the sack and accurately toss it on the porch. Because I did not own a bicycle, my main method of transporting the afternoon news was my wooden Red Flyer Wagon. Filled to capacity, I would pull the Times, Daily News, and Herald-American door-to-door. Some were two-paper clients, however, the majority of residents subscribed to just one.

As part of our “training” we reported to the back entrance of Whiting News and went downstairs. A number of tables held stacks of newspapers. Around 1:30 in the afternoon, a truck would park in front of the paper store and unload the afternoon dailies, sliding them down a chute accessed from 119th Street. Bundle after bundle slid down to the waiting arms of employees who sorted, counted and stacked papers for the various routes. When each route was prepared and marked, the paperboy would check out their allotment and take them for delivery. One of the most important tasks for every paperboy was to learn how to fold, roll, and twist the paper so it could be tossed on porches without coming apart. Dutch demonstrated the “paper boy fold”, and the older guys working the chute supervised until we had it down pat. If a paperboy chose not to pick up his papers at the paper store, they would be delivered to his house later in the afternoon. I preferred the paper store pick up because I could have my route done much sooner: usually by 3:00 pm. If I waited for the papers to be delivered to my house, I wouldn’t finish until 4:30 or so.

One fringe benefit of being paperboy is getting to know all the residents on the block. It didn’t take long for customers to greet you as you delivered their paper. Such friendliness paid dividends when collecting the weekly bill; many included a tip to help defray the cost of living. Their hometown friendliness continued, as I became an adult.

My tenure as a paperboy was short lived. When school started in September, studies, basketball and home chores took precedent. Route 6B went to another paperboy. But in that brief time, I took initial steps of independence and learned employment lessons that served me well. As boyhood gives way to adolescence; and adolescence to adulthood, additional responsibilities, commitment and priorities command attention. One develops strategies and coping skills to meet a variety of challenges: academic, social, economic and personal. Being a paperboy taught me organization, time management, responsibility, and respect. That’s pretty good for a job that paid $5.90 a week. To the Chrustowski family and Dutch Serafin—Thanks!

The Process

Throughout our life, we are “in the process” of one thing or another. At times we are in the process of growing up—going from a child to adolescent, teenager to adult. Other times we are in the process of going to school, serving in the military, working at a job, or getting settled. As the years accumulate one notices that so many “in the process” experiences have defined our days and provided us with a reservoir of events from which we draw upon, reflect, and savor as benchmarks of life.

Not all “in the process” episodes are pleasant or enjoyable. Each one is uniquely memorable, but the price paid, and the cost incurred is, in many cases, prohibitive in endurance, energy-draining, effort-taxing and less than rewarding. We spend so much time trying to do things we think will please other people—family, friends, co-workers, colleagues and people we don’t even know. “What will the neighbors think?” Is a phrase heard many times during one’s lifetime. Often, we set aside personal wants and desires in order to do things so others will approve. Hopes and dreams are shunted in order to fulfill perceived obligations; or assumed because of guilt or outside pressure.

Each one of us can look back and recall decisions made during times of anxiety, stress and less than relaxed conditions and think about how those incidents have affected our life. We can also review occasions when choices were made that enriched and enhanced our days beyond all expectation. Such is the process of life.

During the year important “in process” occasions are noted, celebrated, and commemorated with a variety of emotion and feeling. Solemn, prayerful, joyful or jubilant we embellish these times with banquet and bounty. Together with others or alone in one’s private reverie, the emotions engendered by their remembrance comforts the heart, sustain the spirit, and nourish the soul. Recall when little moments in life unexpectedly snuck up on you and you knew immediately they would be remembered all your days: such is the Process of life. The process of love:

Chance to Opportunity



Opportunity to Turning Point



Strangers to Acquaintance,



Acquaintance to Friends,



Friends to Relationship.



Relationship to Date



Date to Going Steady,



Going steady to Engagement



Engagement to Promises



Promises to Love



Love to Marriage.



Marriage to Togetherness,



Togetherness to Oneness.



Oneness to Soul Mate



Soul mate to Everything!



Everything! to Commitment



Commitment to Wishes



Wishes to Hopes



Hopes to Dreams



Dreams to Reality



Reality to Obligation



Obligations to Priorities



Priorities to Value



Value to Time



Time to Importance



Importance to Together



Together to Divide



Divide to Promises



Promises to Priorities



Priorities to Things



Things to Importance



Importance to Excuse



Excuse to Reason



Reason to Why



Why to Whatever!



Whatever!



Whatever!!



Whatever!! to What?



What? to the Elephant in the Room



What Room?



The room.



House to Home



Home to Family



Family to Children



Children to Adults



Adults to Apartment



Apartment to House



House to House



Full to Empty



Empty to Together



Together to Alone



Alone to Unimportance



Unimportance to Loneliness



Loneliness to Regrets



Regrets to Memories



Memories to Life



Life to Goodbye



Goodbye to Ashes



Ashes to Forever



Now is the time to drink the wine!



Now is the time to taste the sweetness!



Now is the time to enjoy the pleasures.



Now is the time to treasure the moments



Save the memories for winter days



One only does what is important to one



One only values what is valuable to one



One always lives and shares with others



One always dies alone



So



Pour the wine



Taste the Sweetness from the Vineyard



Feel the warmth of ones you love.



Savor the Nectar of Marriage



Spouse, Children, Grandchildren



Enjoy the Perfume of Love



Recall the Spring



Remember the Summer



Treasure the Bounty of Autumn



Accept the Winter



Fill each Day with Laughter



Always



There is Love



Love

Before the Chalk Dust Settles

At the close of this school year, I will retire and close out my teaching career. For the past twelve years, it has been my privilege and good fortune to teach Lake Central High School students both general education and those with Special Needs. With prior teaching experience in Illinois and southern Indiana, my tenure as a classroom teacher totals 43 years. Forty-three years? It seems like 43 minutes! Now, before the lights are turned off and the classroom door is closed for the last time I want to take a few moments and share some thoughts about teaching and the process of education.

We’ve all been around long enough to realize that life is a series of beginnings and goodbyes; and no matter the number of our years we never quite get used to it. Most of us enjoy beginnings; goodbyes are a different matter. Part of the parade of seasons is change and one has to deal with change and accompanying challenges as presented: but before the goodbye part, a return to the beginning. When I walked into a classroom for the first time as teacher in late August of 1967, I was unseasoned, minimally skilled, and uncertain as to my effectiveness. It did not take long to develop coping, methodology, and survival skills. After forty plus years in the “trenches” I am a fully seasoned, reality based, capable, effective, adaptable, tempered, well-educated, and confident pedagogical unit. Over the past four decades I’ve witnessed events, innovations, happenings, fads, policies, catch phrases, procedures and a sundry of educational instructional approaches allegedly designed to improve the process of education. Even so, I firmly believe that a good teacher is at the core of effective learning.

Over the years students have arrived in the classroom: prepared and unprepared, properly parented and woefully neglected, nurtured and un-nurtured, well-nourished and under-fed, behaved and mal-behaved, respectful and disrespectful, joyful and sad, happy and angry, eager and ambivalent, active and passive, energetic and tired, outgoing and shy, confident and timid. Many times I witnessed a weed become a rose when the spark of understanding took flame. Those moments are truly magic!

And there were times that challenged every ounce of my resolve, energy, and commitment in order to get through the day. Most of the 7200 plus school days have been flooded with sunshine. There were times, however, when shadows threatened the brightness and we drew upon Faith and prayerful intercession to help us through difficult times. To all my colleagues and co-worker who shared these moments and times—thank you for being there.

I have often been asked why I decided to become a teacher. It goes back to the words I wrote as a high school senior in 1958: “All I want is a chance to do better!” I promised that if such a chance were presented to me, I would do what I could to help others learn. All through my formative years, along with family, there were teachers, mentors, classmates and friends who helped me along the way. In summer school of 1948, Whiting Primary teacher, Miss Stewart accepted a struggling parochial second-grader and helped me control my stuttering so I could read aloud without embarrassment. As a teenager, the teachers at Whiting High School never gave up on me: Mr. Taylor, Mr. Ulrich, Mr. Faulkner, Mr. Burkholtz, Mr. Allen and Mr. McClure. Each one of these pedagogical apostles encouraged, guided and helped me to understand subject matter, teaching lessons of life, which have served me well. By their word, example and kindness they gave me confidence to risk unreachable dreams; and by doing so, gave me courage to achieve those dreams.

Classmates who became like family gave support and encouragement. Most of all they gave their friendship. At the forefront: The Class of 1958— Whiting High School ’s finest! Each time I enter a classroom I remember the goodness of all who have touched my life and provided me with the “chance to do better.”

We’ve all been around long enough to know that the journey should be as enjoyable as the destination. Each time I think about teaching, I recall the closing lines from my favorite poem by Robert Frost. He writes about a solitary traveler and how, along the way, pauses to watch woods fill with snow. The poem ends with words of commitment, duty, obligation, and responsibility. Like the traveler in Frost’s poem I, too, know…”The woods are lovely dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.” Whatever adventures lie beyond the classroom door will unfold as destined by the stars. They will be welcomed and pursued with energy, enthusiasm and laughter-filled excitement. Without question, I’ve had a great time! To teachers everywhere: keep up the good work; so many others want the chance to do better.