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Cambridge Christmas Memories

The snowflakes were big and soft, gently caressing our faces as we walked from school after the annual Christmas concert, two drummers heading to an after-concert band party at Bobbi Boeker’s house on the road to Center Cambridge. It must have been a time neither of us had cars or licenses to drive them, otherwise we wouldn’t have been walking. Oddly, I remember nothing about the party or what we talked about on the long walk, but can recall the precise route we took through the village, the slippery surface of hard packed snow beneath our feet, the swirl of snowflakes and the Christmas decorations all over town, especially those along Main Street.

By Cambridge winter standards, the night was warm. I was most comfortable in my hooded jacket and ebullient mood produced by many factors, one of them knowing we had a long vacation ahead and lots of good times on the horizon, about as happy as I ever was as a teenager. There are many times I miss living so far from home, the Christmas season definitely one of them.

It’s challenging to find Christmas scenery any better than we had, straight off a Norman Rockwell print but even better in three dimensions and with all the senses stimulated too, the smell of pine, hardwood smoke, apple cider and hot chocolate mixed with laughter and Christmas carols. Powerfully emotive stuff for sure. Continue reading “Cambridge Christmas Memories”

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Hanging with Mr. Cheney

One thing any good teacher knows is that students never forget and still deeply appreciate the efforts made on their behalf, even when these efforts were made long ago. When it comes to Bob Cheney, this may be doubly true. My classmates and I were blessed with Mr. Cheney in his first year of teaching, and for many more after that. His presence was not just transformative for us, but for the entire school and Cambridge community.

Mr. Cheney swept into Cambridge on the winds of change with a young person’s energy and an obvious intent on making a difference. His classroom, to the untrained eye, might look a bit chaotic at times, but it was a functional, beneficial energy driven by numerous educational and social objectives. Of course, as dumb kids we didn’t know anything about this, we just enjoyed whatever happened to be on the day’s social studies menu, one that was as diverse as the teacher. Continue reading “Hanging with Mr. Cheney”

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Narkie and the Regents Exam

“Who was the best teacher you ever had?” is a most difficult question, not because I’ve had an excess of great teachers, but because the truly great ones I did have were so exceptionally talented and dedicated it’s very hard to pick just one individual. But if forced to make a single selection, it would be the late Tom Narkiewicz. He was incredibly gifted and had a heart few could match. He loved teaching, as much as he loved the kids he taught, even the jerks like me. I didn’t deserve a teacher half as good, but this made no difference to Mr. Narkiewicz.

We called him “Narkie” behind his back, but never to his face. None but the biggest of fools ever tried overt disrespect more than once in any class Narkie taught because the penalty was quick, absolutely inescapable, verbal execution. Continue reading “Narkie and the Regents Exam”

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Drowning in Bitter Creek

When the Eagles released “Desperado” in 1973 the record resonated deeply with misplaced ambition to become a famous outlaw. While priorities changed dramatically over the years, much of that album still hits home, especially the title cut. Unlike the Dalton gang the Eagles loosely chronicled, real life cowboy outlaws who wound up trussed and displayed after they were all shot dead, I picked the Queen of Hearts and not the Queen of Diamonds. I think this choice saved my life. You’ll need to listen to the album carefully for a more complete understanding. The many messages are sung far better than I can ever say in words, and I don’t want to wreck the powerful sentiment in translation.

What’s all this have to do with Cambridge? The answer for me is the song “Bitter Creek” and the warning it gives about wading too deep into it. I was once totally submerged, and had some understandable reasons. Continue reading “Drowning in Bitter Creek”

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The Day I Almost Brought a Gun to School (Part 2 of 2 )

Steven’s “I’m gonna get you man,” and his demented eyes resurfaced as I walked back to my classroom after meeting with the principal and police officer. I thought he was disturbed enough to follow through on his threat of another student and also knew he was now armed with a handgun and roaming free. In my entire career, I’ve never been more frightened of the possible future and never endured a longer work day, every hour seeming like ten.

I always parked my truck right across the street from the building I worked in, and instead of entering it, I walked to my truck. As I crossed the street I pictured Steven slipping by our police officer who could not guard three different buildings at once. I visualized Steven shooting out the window of the outer door in my building, opening it, and then shattering the glass in my classroom door so that he could have a little target practice. This all could have happened in under a minute. Jack Nicholson’s role in “The Shining” never seemed more real. Continue reading “The Day I Almost Brought a Gun to School (Part 2 of 2 )”

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The Day I Almost Brought a Gun to School (Part 1 of 2)

Before I dive into my next diatribe, I do want to make it clear I’m far from anti-gun and actually own lots of them, rifles, handguns and at least one firearm, a 30 cal. M1 semiautomatic with a 30 shot clip, which would have to be considered an assault rifle. I’m not about to jump on the ban the guns bandwagon for reasons I’ll leave for some other time. However, a most recent movement to arm teachers serves only one good, and that’s demonstrating how ignorant and out of touch legislators are when it comes to issues regarding education and schools. Teachers packing heat? Good God, how wrong can this idea be? Continue reading “The Day I Almost Brought a Gun to School (Part 1 of 2)”

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We’re Nuts for You Class of ’92

I once worked for a publisher who fished a cigarette butt out of the men’s room urinal and then like Diogenes seeking an honest man went to every male in the newspaper plant, over 20 different guys, asking each as he held the soggy cancer stub in a wet paper towel, “Is this yours?”

“It sure is,” I wanted to respond. “Got a match?” I wasn’t quite that stupid, though, and knew with absolute certainty such a crack would have me fired on the spot. I’d already grown to believe my old boss viewed us all like a plantation owner did his field hands. Although he never said it directly, the message the Louisiana publisher and newspaper owner wanted to convey was that he would spare no indignity to find anyone who dared soil a urinal he owned. “Thou shall not disrespect my property” was clearly intended, and this definitely included the normally foul smelling, deeply stained WWII era plumbing fixture.

With that story in mind I pose a question: Who was easier on the mind to work for, the Louisiana slave driver or a compassionate, caring high school principal when the major task at hand was producing a good newspaper and quality student journalists? Hands down, boys and girls, the relationship with the publisher was far easier because the mission was well defined. When I taught journalism and sponsored a high school newspaper, it commonly seemed that doing a really good job often made my boss uncomfortable, and by then I’d long ago stopped throwing cigarettes into urinals. This is not to say I worked for bad administrators; they were quality people. Continue reading “We’re Nuts for You Class of ’92”

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Facebook Pardons a Sinner

Facebook in its divine benevolence apparently just pardoned a poor digital sinner who for the past five years has been barred from the hallowed halls of electronic chitchat. I relate this because it’s an interesting story from one who really does not get social media. Maybe this is age talking and maybe it’s more a case of fearing an invisible chain where every move is monitored and recorded today, I really don’t know, but I do know I made the great Facebook god mad a few years ago and now he (or she?) has apparently forgiven my great transgression, or more likely, just forgotten about it when rolling over a new data bank to monetize. Continue reading “Facebook Pardons a Sinner”

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How School “Reform” Impacts Teacher Training and Retention

One might suppose upon superficial analysis of my various rants that I’m of the mind that a school cannot be improved without a change in the community it serves. This is inaccurate and I’ve personally experienced the opposite several times. A school can most definitely improve greatly irrespective of its student population and surrounding circumstances; I just fervently argue that the improvement in impoverished communities will still fall short of what can be accomplished in mostly middle and upper class environments, and have considerable hard and irrefutable evidence to support such thinking beyond my own experiences. This disadvantage is not due to some sort of natural inferiority of the people in poorer communities, but directly the product of the many more challenges poor people face in life just trying to survive. There’s no money for tutors when it’s hard to pay the rent each month. Basic survival will always come first. However, I do commonly call “school reform” an illusion and most definitely believe this to be true more times than it is not. Continue reading “How School “Reform” Impacts Teacher Training and Retention”

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Confessions of a Serial Book Report Criminal

I gave the same book report for three consecutive years without ever reading the book in question. My sins ultimately led to a great life lesson in the hallowed halls of CCS, one I used hundreds of times myself as a teacher, a lesson both academic and moral, perhaps the most important kind. I can thank two great Cambridge educators for the learning, Mary Lee Weeks and Richard Burdsall, librarian and English teacher, respectively. Continue reading “Confessions of a Serial Book Report Criminal”