Of Legacy and Forests

As a distance runner in high school, I have many fond memories of my school and athletic facilities, especially, of course, the track. When that place was the center of my life, I assumed that the school and the track would always be there. Yet, years later, my high school sold the property and moved to a new building a couple of towns west. Because of some political wrangling, and I guess for financial reasons, the old school stood for years, empty and decaying. Visiting the old school years later when I happened to be home for a visit, I discovered that there is something sad about a boarded up school that once teemed with promise of bright futures. But it was down at the track that I first started to think about the idea of legacy.

The infield of the track, which alternated as a football and soccer field when I went to the school, was completely covered with trees; a forest had reclaimed this territory! The track resembled a lost beach road, covered in sand and aimlessly winding in circles. It seemed that everything that happened there was lost. Years after that, the school property was finally sold and today is the home of a neighborhood of upscale houses. Who will remember?

Those who were impacted by being in this place.

And that’s the point of legacy. I don’t think a plaque on a wall for one’s efforts or a name on a stadium is really a legacy. I think that a true legacy is about the long lasting impact one has had on others. In recent weeks, two of our technology leaders here at Lower Merion announced their retirements. I don’t know if there will be plaques or even a retirement dinner or two, but for me, their respective legacies will be very powerful.

Ginny DiMedio, who headed our technology efforts in the district, took a department from nothing to a powerful force in our students’ lives. She is a woman who dared to enter the halls of boys who stamp their feet, and her disinterest in power made all of the boys who embraced power a little uneasy. She supported anyone who had an idea that would improve our students’ chances of becoming critical thinkers. Surprising at it might seem because everyone in education gives lip service to the idea of getting our students to think critically, few, in my experience, have the ability or even the desire to create programs that improve such; most seem content with the “data-driven” management styles that seem to keep everyone obedient and under control. Ginny the courage to be the opposite. And she was strong enough to allow other professionals to run with ideas that brought hope to students’ lives.

Bill Dolton headed the educational integration efforts in our district. Through his creativity and desire to put technology in the hands of students in a way that meant the improvement of educational programs, Bill brought a wealth of knowledge, energy, and caring to all of the students in this district. Bill created a professional development program that put into the hands of teachers the responsibility to mentor other teachers. He asked his mentor teachers to grow professionally and provided the means for that growth; then he asked those same teachers to share with other teachers and again provided the means for that to happen. It is a unique program that other districts have copied. And as Bill retires, that program has been cut in our district.

I suspect that there will be few plaques noting the contributions of two people who thought way outside the box. That forest of power will reclaim its ground as soon as possible. And just as my old school is now a tract of McMansions, their programs might or might not survive. But one thing is for sure, many professionals will never forget, and will be forever indebted, to both Ginny and Bill. Even more powerful, thousands of students, whether they know it or not, have had their lives improved because of the efforts of these two special people. And that is the truest legacy that anyone can leave.

Good luck Ginny and Bill. Even though you did not shoot for this, you have the admiration and respect of so many people. Even though the forest might reclaim some territory, what has happened in this place will continue to live and grow well into the future.

Johnny Appleseed (Day)

I remember when I was in elementary school and we celebrated days like Johnny Appleseed Day. This day was, for us, a special day on which we remembered the good earth, a kind of fertility celebration. Well, today is Johnny Appleseed Day and I still think of it as a fertility celebration, although today I want to make it a political (and spiritual) point. It takes an entire nation of workers to build a country. It takes the greed of only a few to tear it down. I think it is worth remembering that as we struggle with our economy, and in many cases, struggle to support ourselves and our families.

Talking Fear with My Brothers

Last night, I had the pleasure of discussing fear. Pleasure, you say? Yup. It was an honest discussion with a group of men who meet once a month in an effort to find a deeper spirituality in our lives. We come up with topics and share our experiences, worldly as well as spiritual, as it relates to the topic. And last night it was all about fear.

It got me thinking that one of the addictive elements in my own life is the addiction to a reward/punishment system. It’s easy to become addicted: I create a world in which if I am a good boy, I will be rewarded: work hard, and I will get rich; do good deeds and I will go to heaven, study hard and I will get good grades. Worse, be lazy and I will live in poverty; do bad deeds and I go to hell, neglect my own studies and I will be a failure.

If I could just look at life as a gift, then I think the reward/punishment model would die. Yet I seem so intent on accumulating; accumulating things, grades, successes, and anything that can be accumulated. The more things that I can accumulate, the more evidence I have of the rewards!

Last night I envisioned a world with nothing: no money, no house, no family. It was frightening. But in a strange way, it was liberating. It just went to show me how I had materialized all of those things so that I could control and accumulate. All of that is designed to keep the fear away; yet as with all addictions, the relief is temporary and very false.

I think that was what last weeks’ Christian readings were about. Christ is led into the dessert to be tempted by Satan. If I look at it from the punishment/reward model, I simply say that Jesus has won against temptation, and I now have a model of how to get to heaven (reward). Slip up, and I become the property of Satan (punishment). Yet, if I look at it from the life-as-a-gift model, I realize that the three temptations—temptation to accumulate worldly goods; temptation to accumulate power; temptation to accumulate esteem—are all about the things that will only do one thing: lead me into a life of fear and a life of never being fully satisfied by that last fix of accumulated stuff.

I like thinking about fear because I like exposing it for what it is. Thanks, bothers, for a wonderful discussion last night!

March!

I really love March, ten inches of snow on the ground from a late winter snow storm notwithstanding. It is a time of hope, you know, with all of that springtime and rebirth stuff. But I have to go on record as saying that with March comes longer days and shorter shadows. I can never discount the power of a sun that rises higher in the sky than during December, January, and February. I feel like a solar panel, suddenly energized because energy stores from last fall are almost gone. March is the time of year where I feel the hope, feel the longer days coming, and feel happier. Yes, winter is over whether the calendar says so or not. If the same snow storm that we had yesterday hit in January, the residue would be around for months, until the middle of March. The residue from yesterday’s storm will be gone in a week or so. March is like that: it may hit hard, but quickly turns to apologize and cleans up that mess. Yup. March is ok in my book.

Twitter, Tweets, and a Snow Day

Well, I’ve done it. I’ve jumped into Twitter. I will go on record as saying that I did not do it because a bunch of politicians could not sit still during the President’s speech last week and began to tweet all over the place. I did it because it seems that those in education who want to remain connected seem to be doing it.

Twitter is great because the people who I follow, send reading recommendations, and I can really keep up with what my fellow professionals are thinking. Yet, I wonder about tweets that say, “I’m at the airport,” or “I cleaned the house today.” This seems to me to be a bit too much information. But I guess that’s the price we pay to be connected.

Which brings me to my fear. Do we always have to be connected in so overt a way? Those who have read my blog know that I care to be connected to my fellow human beings in a deep and spiritual way. But when that connection becomes so obvious and overt, then our connections might boil down to simple logistics and gossip. I think we can do better than that.

So here I am, entering yet another phase of our technological world. Can I live a life that can stand to be out of touch for a bit? Today is a snow day here in eastern Pennsylvania. With a day off from work, I rose this morning at my usual hour, I read a little Thomas Keating, read a little Acts of the Apostles, did a few Sudoku puzzles, had an extra cup of coffee, and then signed onto my computer to check news, tweets, and blogs, and to write in my own blog. I wonder what this says about me. Is there such a thing as a quiet day, a whole day, without technological connectivity? Now I’m not even sure what I am really afraid of: technology taking over my life, or my letting it. Shouldn’t I be out sledding or something?