Author Archives: dcreamer

By Roger Barbee

            This past weekend Mary Ann and I were in my hometown to visit my elderly mother, and I was to give a short speech for my high school wrestling coach who (unknown to him) was receiving North Carolina’s highest civilian award: The Order of the Long-Leaf Pine. Well over two hundred people showed to honor Coach Bob Mauldin for his years of community service, teaching and coaching in the public schools, active in his church, serving as a principal, and wrestling official. In prior years, Coach Mauldin had been honored as principal of the year in Kannapolis, inducted into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame,  and now this, the highest award North Carolina  could bestow on a civilian. After the speeches lauding him and the presentation of the award, Coach Mauldin spoke. He shared a great deal with us, thanking us all, but one story he told I had not known—he failed the 7^th grade and had to repeat it. Coach Mauldin had flunked.

            David Halberstram, in his classic study of the Vietnam War, The Best and the Brightest, writes a great deal concerning the “boy wonders” who were an influential part of the Kennedy cabinet. The young men that President Kennedy brought to Washington had impeccable academic credentials, training,  and academic backgrounds. They were, as the title suggests, the best and the brightest.  Halberstram writes honestly of them and their obvious talents, but he concludes that their collective lack of real life experience, especially in the political area, was  one reason for our involvement in Vietnam and its deep cost to our nation.  Recounting the origins of that costly war, Halberstram observes that what these well-meaning “boy wonders” lacked was “true wisdom..the product of hard-won, often bitter experience.”

            One of the requirements for Coach Mauldin’s 7^th grade English class with Mrs. Howard was an oral book report. Up to his 7^th grade year, Coach Mauldin had received a pin for perfect attendance each year, but in the 7^th grade, in order to “dodge” giving that oral book report, Coach Mauldin missed some days. As he explained it to his gathered admirers, he was too shy to get up in front of the class and talk. He dodged the dates until he finally ran out of days, so he failed English, thus the 7^th grade. One more school year with Mrs. Howard.

            Now, I understand that not everything concerning public education in “the good ol’ days” was good or even policy that we should be following. For instance, in the time that Coach Mauldin failed Mrs. Howard’s class, a student could be paddled—that, in my mind, is a policy that needed to be gotten rid of. However, there is a dimension of a student failing a grade that is worthy of consideration. It seems to this writer that in some degree we have gone too far the other way in  many facets of modern day life and how we educate our children. For instance, in Shenandoah County, the lowest numerical grade a student can receive in the first marking period of a new semester is a 60 no matter how little work was done or how poorly the work was done.. This policy was instituted so that a student will not be discouraged and quit working over the course of a semester and eventually pass the course. That is a noble thought, but I question its value.

            It seems to me that we have given our children the idea that life is like a railroad track. We lead them to believe that they can get on the track of life and pick a destination. The trip will be without obstacles such as steep hills, sharp turns, and the crossing of any troubled waters will be made easier and safer by a sturdy bridge. Instead of letting our children make their way, often by trial and error, we have leveled the trip and removed all obstacles. In our desire for their succeeding, we have done too much for them. We have removed failure from their lives.

            I can imagine the difficulties a teacher would encounter today if he or she wanted to hold a student back. If the issue were an oral book report as in Coach Mauldin’s case, the teacher may be asked to alter the requirement in some way to make it more conducive to the student’s learning style. Perhaps an administrator would point out that the student needed to pass because of class size, or that in failing the grade his or her self esteem would be damaged.

            A child knows whether she or he has made an honest effort to do required work. Any child knows when she or he has not met a reasonable expectation. When we allow less than the best from each child in our schools, we cheat that child and our society. Failure can be a great teacher.

By Roger Barbee

            This morning, the last one of November 2013 was extremely cold when I took the hound out for his morning ramble. The sun’s rays had not yet cleared Short Mountain, but they gave the few hovering clouds a warm, pink hue. However, that was the only warmth we had, so the trip was quickly finished when the necessary duties were accomplished. Yes, I thought as we passed the new garden just planted in the fall, earth is in her winter mode, at rest. Her seasonal nap was evidenced by the heavy frost on dead grass, the browned, bent stems of the mums, the limp hostas, and the frozen water in the small bird bowl. It was so cold that not even crows or blue jays had emerged for the day.

            The Ancient Greeks explained this change in weather by the myth of Persephone who was kidnapped and made to wed Hades. Her mother, Demeter, was furious and demanded her fair daughter’s return to earth. But because Persephone had eaten some seeds in the underworld, she could not live all the time on earth. Thus, when she came to earth her arrival was marked by new growth of plants in the spring, but when she returned to spend time with her husband, the earth’s plants turned the brown and lifeless of winter. Not a scientific explanation of earth’s tilt on its axis, but a colorful one that has entertained people across the ages.

            As I scurried into the house with the hound, I was thinking of how dull everything was, even with the sheen of heavy frost reflecting light and making small diamonds on the grass and leaves. Settling in at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee and Mary Ann, I watched this last morning of November 2013 unfold into one I had not anticipated.

            Naps. I had not thought of naps in a long time, but as I watched the morning come in the dead cold of November, I saw our few acres as napping.  I can still recall as a child fighting to keep from taking a nap, doing anything to keep off that quilt pallet on the living room floor or if in the summer, spread on the cool grass under the shade of a maple tree. I recall wanting to stay awake for those few afternoon minutes because I did not want to miss anything that may happen. Now, as an adult, I take a nap at the first chance, even in some late mornings. And that is what our land is doing now—taking a nap, getting some rest, re-charging batteries, or whatever you want to call it. Yet it seems that in our modern world we have lost touch with naps and the beneficial rest they give us.

            We seem so intent on doing in our modern lives. We seem to value each day by what we have done, not by how we have done. Thinking that way, we are always doing something whether it adds value or not to our lives. We have, it seems to me, to have become a culture of doers always busy with some task. Yes, being productive is good, but a time of rest is as important as a time of work. Each compliments the other when balanced together.

            This past week at school I had a conversation with another teacher about a mutual student who was scheduled to be two places and in two activities at the same time. The other teacher asked if there was some way we could help the student do both. I explained that, in my mind, life was about choices and that the student could choose what activity to do after discussing options with his parents. It was his choice to make, but I wanted nothing to do with helping him believe that he, or any one of us, could do all we wanted. We agreed to let him choose and to support his choice. However, too often I see parents and other adults helping youngsters “do it all” by over planning each day that has no nap time.

            Often at school, I see students scurry to the cafeteria, get a tray, and rush to a classroom to do some academic work while they munch on their food. I question the quality of the work being done, and certainly the quality of the time set aside for eating. It should be a time of rest, but it has, too often, become a time to get more done.

            As I began my second cup of coffee, I considered these things. We are so busy with doing it, it seems, that we do not see the thrill of life in front of us. We rush from one thing to the other in the belief that we are accomplishing some great achievement. But I wonder.

            Maybe if we each took some time in each day to rest and reflect, we might get more done. I am re-reading the collected letters of John Keats, the poet, and marvel at the number of letters he wrote to family and friends. And he did this with a quill and little paper. Yet, we have computers and all of their technology, but do we accomplish what Keats did? It seems that we are so busy doing that we do not do.

            Take a nap. Just sit. Stop and be still. Listen to your inner self. Reflect. Perhaps you will, in the end, get more done and be better for it.