The Missing Link: Me!

Only I can tell this story:

Entirely by coincidence and chance, my elusive birth parents have been identified . . . and no one more than I is as surprised.

To understand this unveiling, I must first backtrack. In 1955, I was born in St. Ann's Hospital for Women in Columbus, Ohio, to a lady named Barbara Ann Fromm. (If interested in more specifics regarding my ultimate adoption and subsequent life, I refer readers to my February 13, 2014, blog entry entitled "A Revelation" found at michaelagunther.blogspot.com .) At a young age, I had discovered I was adopted when my parents informed my sister Carol (not biological) and me about our origins. Honestly, that news had little to no impact on my life, one of enjoyment, love, caring, and relative comfort. As the years passed into adulthood, I periodically was curious, but it was not until my wife and I chose to have children that understanding my health history made my biological history a bit more relevant. With assistance from the Ohio Bureau of Vital Statistics, I found my original birth certificate that listed only my mother's name and my health history was described as "Normal." From my perspective, that was enough--for the most part, my search and interest was pretty much done.

A few years ago, however, at the insistence of my children and my wife, I submitted my saliva to Ancestry.com with the hope of finding my heritage (Irish and Scottish). Once that question was answered, I went no further in reading or pursuing anything else about my heritage. Over the past few years, we have casually commented that Jake Fromm, the quarterback for the University of Georgia, was probably my nephew, but beyond that my biological family was a nonfactor in my life--I would be lying, though, if I completely overlooked that a curiosity did exist, but I accepted that I would never know, so the idea was pretty much buried.

Until May 6 of  this year . . .

Our youngest daughter, for her own reasons, decided to find out more about her own history, so she submitted her saliva to the 23&Me Program, triggering a connection to her biological second cousin named Jennifer Hodge (Fromm), a resident of Reno, Nevada. My daughter called me with that news, stirring my curiosity enough that I enlisted my LinkedIn account to see if a connection existed--none did. I followed that up by entering that name on Facebook, discovered a possible match, and then wrote an email via Messenger that I feared would be rejected as coming from a weird dude, maybe even a creepy sort of guy. Much to my surprise, however, within twenty minutes, I received a response that immediately made a positive connection: She was a blood relative! Her exact words were "OMG, I'm so happy you texted! I've seen your relationship on Ancestry and have been racking my brain trying to figure out the [connection]. I believe Barbara [my biological mother] is a sister to my grandfather . . . you're similar in age to my dad, Jeff Fromm . . . ." Much more was exchanged in that email, but it was not until the next day when I received another email from Jennifer that read "I found a relative that knows about you! Her name is Sue Hodges and she would be your cousin. Her mother told her the 'story' and she said she would love to chat with you." At that point, I was provided Sue's Facebook information, and we soon touched base via Messenger.

That evening I contacted Sue, a resident of Reynoldsburg, Ohio, who wrote, "I am so happy that you have found us. My late mother and I have wanted to find you for years!"

At that point, my biological life unfolded. At the risk of boring readers, I do find it pertinent to quote what I was told: 

          "Your mother worked at a variety store in Bexley, a very well-to-do suburb of Columbus. Your father's name was Walter Daugherty . . . he owned a bar in Columbus called The Camel Bell. I don't know whatever happened to him. After your birth, your mother left Columbus and moved to Lima, Ohio, where our family lived. She worked in the office at the electric company. In 1960, she married and became a farmer's wife. She never had any children. My grandparents had 13 children and around 35 grandchildren . . . As you can imagine, these things [out of wedlock births] were never discussed back in those days. My mom never told my dad [about a child] and she only told me when I was an adult. Your mother was my favorite aunt, and if she had a child, I wanted to know about him. Your mom had a sense of humor like no other. Sadly, she passed away from Leukemia on August 27, 1980. She lived close to Ada at the time of her death. She was about 5'2" and had very dark, naturally curly hair. She was a very sophisticated lady who wore beautiful clothes. However, when she married and lived on the farm, she did a complete about face. She had a garden, canned from her garden, learned to sew, but her personality never changed. We all LOVED her . . .I know she loved you and wanted you to have a life that she never could afford to give you. But everything was so hush hush back then. After my mother died in 2001, I tried to find you, but [the state of Ohio] is very strict. If I had been her sibling, I would have had better luck. My regret is that we didn't find you earlier. I know my mother always wanted to find you."

Additionally, I spoke with my mother's sole remaining sibling, a younger sister (by 12 years), Judy (a resident of Wapakoneta, Ohio), who recalled my mother as being extremely organized and one "who would give you the shirt off her back . . ."--certainly a pleasant thought. Much more was written and discussed, but that should be sufficient regarding my biological mom.

At this point, I contacted a name, Marilyn Moltz, a Chicago resident and an English teacher as am I, who appeared on my Ancestry.com page (which I had never looked at beyond discovering my heritage). There I found messages from Marilyn and a guy named Andy Tucker (who I discovered is also a first cousin like Marilyn), both who had been attempting to locate me. Past messages of "Merry Christmas, cuz" and "You might be my cousin!" greeted me. Thus, I contacted Marilyn, who was quite helpful, connecting me with a lady in Pickerington, Ohio, named Diane Malone, the niece of my biological father Walter. In short, my first cousin and I began to fill in the gaps. To best capture her response, I provide the following words from her emails:

     "I have a lot of information on him; my dad and he were very close and had several businesses together. I do need to apologize to you because I had no idea that uncle Walt had a son!"

Soon thereafter, Diane and I spoke by phone where I learned that my father never married, was a World War II vet who was stationed in Iran, was a heavy smoker, stood about 6'0", and owned a bar and a few carry-outs in the Columbus area. He was described as very quiet and easygoing with a warm personality who was quite caring toward others and was a homebody who declared after he returned from Iran that he was never leaving Ohio again. He was born in New Straightsville, Ohio, (near Logan) and is buried in St. Joseph's Cemetery on South High Street in Columbus. Interestingly, his full name was Walter Aloysius Benedict Daugherty--clearly Catholic by the name choices of "Aloysius" and "Benedict"--interestingly, I, too, am Catholic. He had no other children, clearly establishing that I have no biological brothers or sisters (as stated, my biological mother had no other children).

The best part, by far, is that pictures exist of my biological parents! I have been able to review them and certainly can see similarities in appearance...it is almost 65 years later, but whom I resemble has been partially answered.

When my kids have asked what learning all this has meant to me, my answer is quite simple: It fills in the blanks. While I feel no strong emotional attachments at this time, I am flattered to recognize that at least a few people in my biological tree did know that I existed. Being told that others had wanted to find me did humble me, without a doubt! On a negative note, I have now been made aware that both parents and most of their siblings died of various cancers--not exactly sure of the power of that discovery, but at least I know a little medical history. Regarding my new-found relatives, I look forward to meeting a few of them when the current pandemic disappears and am grateful for their courageously stepping forward when I made contact.

In a script resembling The Twilight Zone, one noted oddity exists: my biological mom lived at 634 East Main Street (Columbus), The Camel Bell Bar (biological father's business) was on East Main Street (Columbus), and I was born at St. Ann's Hospital for Women at 1634 East Main Street (Columbus).

The irony? I was raised at 638 East Main Street (Gnadenhutten) . . .  not knowing anything about my biological family. Karma, Coincidence, or Divine Intervention?


 

Views from the Hot Seat...: Split Among Friends

Views from the Hot Seat...: Split Among Friends: I am 64, my limited hair is going in all directions because of the virus's limitations, and I am not sure how to envision my future lif...

Split Among Friends

I am 64, my limited hair is going in all directions because of the virus's limitations, and I am not sure how to envision my future life. 

As I am prone to do, I revert to my past to understand what is going on around me. For whatever reason, I find solace in remembering how I have confronted and solved past issues, what has shaped my thinking, and what lessons I have learned in the process. Today's Covid-19 is forcing me to confront many conflicting ideas about life, finances, and the pillars of our society. If you would, please come with me on my observations about where we are today.

Having been born in 1955, I have learned (thankfully) that my thinking has evolved since that time. As a child and a teenager, the globe was spinning, but I was primarily worried only about me--did not have great interest in much other than family, friends, sports, and reading. Certainly, I was aware of life's events because of the newspaper's influence, but politics carried no power for me. Arriving at college, however, awakened something dormant . . . an awareness of life beyond my nose. Today, though, I am acutely aware of such divisiveness within our society, allowing me to examine other comparable moments in my lifetime.

Sitting here today, I can think of five life-altering historical events that have provided significant splits in American attitudes. Certainly, others could have made my list, but these seem to be the "biggies," listed in chronological order.

1. The Civil Rights Movement: I became aware of the racial inequality in junior high school and later in high school when I read any "Black" literature Indian Valley South's and Gnadenhutten's libraries could offer. Novels like The Contender, Black Boy, and Native Son fueled my interest, but having no practical experience interacting with people of color prevented me from having first-hand knowledge of the issues. I was certainly aware of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s prominence, but it was not until Cassius Clay/Muhammed Ali took his stand against the country's military obligations that I began to notice a rising national issue. To best understand, readers must recognize that this time period held limited barriers to racial names--the "n" bomb was not prevalent but it was present, "colored" was a term that I later determined was derogatory, and other deflating labels were also common. When I would hear my dad use those words, I just assumed that they were acceptable. Thus, my mind was certainly shaped by the culture in which I was raised. In time, my views took a 180, primarily because I had to overcome much immaturity and I had exposure to races other than white people like me. That combination forced me to overcome any bias that I had carried. I like to think that today I am far beyond that limited thinking. My point is simple: The Civil Rights issue divided people in our country--we only need to look at the history books to understand that. Each of us has his or her own story to tell regarding those times, attitudes, and biases, but I feel comfortable in saying that the race issue that struck a chord in the '50s and '60s caused so much disruption in our society that even today its ugly head still rises to the surface. As a point, I remain convinced that many--definitely not all--resented that a black man was elected as our President. It may seldom be admitted, but I sense that belief remains slightly beneath the surface. 

2. The Vietnam Conflict: A touchy subject even today for so many reasons, but the reality is that this war clearly divided our country by age, race, political beliefs, and activist reactions. I have studied this conflict extensively, and, along with my students, have written oral histories of so many veterans who will always be held in my highest esteem. From my knowledge, I conclude that time period resulted in the best we could offer while also hitting us with our worst. I need not elaborate to a great extent, but if we examine the May 4, 1970, Kent State Shootings, for example, we get a vivid picture of our country's unrest. Torn between either defending our country whether dedicated to the war effort or not or fighting what many felt was an unjust war, young people were faced with a confusing dilemma. As time wore on, the war's power grew old, ultimately leading to our departure from Vietnam in a way untypical of American war history. That war--unlike the others that Americans had fought--gradually undermined our confidence and trust in our country's leaders . . .seems to me that long-ago war still creates the roots of our unrest today. 

3. Roe vs. Wade: This extremely divisive court decision distinctly drew lines for many between life and death, morality versus immorality, and religious views versus women's rights. Today's current Conservative movement appears to be hell-bent on altering this abortion decision, thus partially explaining the major push to seat conservative-thinking judges, particularly in the nation's Supreme Court. Continuing to hold heavy weight, this issue remains a dividing element in our society. My barber, for example, tells me that he is not a "true Trump guy," but he is convinced that  Republicans "oppose abortion," so that is why he sides with the President. I have heard it from others as well that "women should not have the right to determine what they do with their own bodies--our country must legislate abortion to be illegal." Please understand that this remains a much-discussed issue in the Democrat versus Republican perceptions. Again, this issue divided back then, and it still is now.

4. Donald Trump: Never have I seen such a polarizing figure sit in the President's office. His strategies for unifying have been met with much despair and opposition while at the same time fueling a sometimes feverish devotion to his personality and his positions. Reasons for both sides vary, of course, but we are living through a time that has definitely polarized us. Conversations regarding him can easily deteriorate into heated arguments, only reaffirming the old saying that "we should never discuss politics at the dinner table." Whether his approach has been effective will be determined in the short term by the November election and in the long term by the way history regards him. Today, we have opinions, but the future will determine his true impact, just as it has with any other President. No matter how we cut that Trump pie, the man has created sharply divided sides that have certainly disrupted our society's advancement.

5. Covid-19: Living history, as the saying goes, is where we are. Lines in the sand are being drawn as I write this: 

        "The governor is incompetent" OR "The governor has been such a leader"; 

        "Dr. Acton is an un-elected person, so she needs to shut up" OR "Dr. Acton has been so impartial to politics that it's refreshing." 

Got the picture? The split is alive and well--where it ends remains to be seen. I do chuckle sometimes because I remember reading a saying once that made such sense to me: 

          "Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people"

I am afraid we are in such a quandry at the moment that we too frequently resort to attacking people first--perhaps that is a result of anger and frustration, but I strongly sense that our country's fragility is being exposed at this moment. We will see if this holds true.

A bit lengthy today, for sure, but I suggest that all five of these events hold much in common. All have led to splits, many of which are still simmering. Will we learn anything from where we are, or will our society take an abrupt turn into something none of us even want to envision?

A Little of This . . . and a Lotta That!

Monday afternoon, rainy, overcast, limited in activities . . . sound familiar? What I've found myself doing today is sitting in front of my computer, doing one of the activities I enjoy most: writing. Because I've caught up on a few miscellaneous projects, time is available to talk about what is on my mind today. Trust me, I didn't say what I know . . .just what is on my mind!

 

Lessons from The Covid

*As much as I despise--yet accept--the Covid-19's restrictions, I've further unveiled the gift of self-discovery, being reminded of how valuable interpersonal communication is to me. For those who know me, of course, I'm a talker. Being able to interact with others is--as I continue to recognize--a key to my happiness. Hearing stories makes me smile, and a variety of my friends can "spin a tale"--sometimes I even believe them! More often, however, I hear stories retold for the umpteenth time, yet I still laugh as heartily as I ever did. Seeing others smile, laugh, get ticked, agree, disagree is all part of the experience. Without those interactions, part of me is put on hold . . . would love to soon head to the Elks, the Tusky VFW, or Limby's and just listen to the talk!

 

*When I'm teaching students, my effectiveness suffers if I cannot look them in the eyes as I am trying to make my points. The teaching is still going on, but that face-to-face interaction is so difficult to replace. My teaching style is contingent upon constant interaction with my kids. Through the ever-present nonverbals, teachers can see understanding or lack thereof, frustration, anger, or whatever emotion surfaces--I miss that aspect. I'm fairly certain of this: If this mode of teaching persists into next fall, my teaching career will be at the end...don't like to say that, but this dog doesn't want to wade into those waters!

 

*Sports and its entertainment are quite crucial to my "balance." On a nightly basis, I typically would be watching an athletic activity, particularly this time of year. With basketball and baseball, specifically, on the shelf, I've been watching a bit too much television although I've discovered that binge watching makes me extremely lazy yet it makes for an enjoyable evening. After watching an episode of Cagney and Lacey during the first week of staying at home, I knew rock bottom was not far away, so I graduated to watching Tiger King and McMillions along with so many James Bond movies that I think I could be just like him . . . well, a nice thought anyway. Being the Tiger King, however, is way out of my wheelhouse!

 

*I'm glad I'm a reader because without that interest, my enthusiasm would be way down in the dumps. At our house, we subscribe to four weekly magazines and three monthly publications, so my interest is heightened when I pick up my daily mail. Additionally, I love books, but I stagger my reading with different genres so getting stale is not an option. Recently, I have read fiction (Delia Owens's Where the Crawdads Sing and Stephen Markley's Ohio--even Gnadenhutten is referenced!); history (Carlotta Walls LaNier's A Mighty Long Way--a story of the Little Rock 9 Civil Rights challenge); Politics (Tucker Carlson's Ship of Fools, Rick Wilson's Running Against the Devil, and Steven Hassan's The Cult of Trump); and Vietnam (Dave Lange's Virginity Lost in Vietnam). For many, of course, reading is not a desirable option; for me, it is my lifeline to understanding the world in which I live. Coupled with reading (and occasional skimming) of The Times-Reporter, The Canton Repository, and The Wall Street Journal (online), I like to think I'm fairly well informed. The truth is that I teach my students that "the sign of an intelligent person is one who views all sides of an issue before voicing an opinion"--I try to live that. I certainly have gone on record as saying that I'm not a Donald Trump fan--I did not say that I am opposed to pre-Trump Republican beliefs. However, my reading in-depth stories and reporting has convinced me that trusting Donald Trump is not part of my character . . .and I used to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I cannot do it anymore. I stress again why: I have read, observed, and listened to many sides of these political debates and many sides of Mr. Trump's character . . .just cannot do it   . . . to me, the dude is a huckster.

 

*My happy place is really simple: If I'm in my garage cleaning a vehicle or outside mowing grass, a good chance exists that I'm having a great day. For me, those activities are mindless, allowing me to concentrate on the task at hand yet let my mind wander to whatever place it wants to go. I love the satisfaction of beginning with one condition (dirty car or unkempt grass) and seeing it come out a finished product. Similar to a construction worker, I would think, where the builder begins with a piece of ground but at the end has created a permanent structure--have to believe that is one of the more rewarding professions out there!

 

*My emphasis on physical fitness has been put to the test in these past few weeks. Living by a routine is so much a part of my life. If I don't get busy working out on my basement equipment or running early in the morning, I'll find myself  looking for the chips, the peeps, the Chips Ahoy, or the Skinny Pops, and, as a result,  ol' Too Ton Tony will be emerging from his winter solace when this whole pandemic deal allows more freedom. I know I like to work out, but I also know that I like to eat even more . . . it's a delicate balance (as if I'm delivering breaking news)!

 

*Most of all, what I have learned is--even though it's a cliché--we need each other. Whether it be family, friends, or just acquaintances, a rhythm exists to our lives that cannot be displaced. We thrive on others' personalities even if it's someone we don't necessarily care for, someone we think the world of, or someone who falls in between--that is the human experience. That, my friends, is what I miss . . . and I need it . . . come on, God, please help free us. I have to think we will come out of this with a different perspective  . . . just hope we can sustain it beyond a month!

 

*Oh, one other lesson I've discovered about me: I really do miss having a certain female cocker spaniel around here!

Views from the Hot Seat...: Basketball: Loves & Bugs

Views from the Hot Seat...: Basketball: Loves & Bugs: The smell of the gym . . .the bounce, bounce, bounce of the ball . . .the soft sound of the swishing net . . .the cheering of the raucous c...

Basketball: Loves & Bugs

The smell of the gym . . .the bounce, bounce, bounce of the ball . . .the soft sound of the swishing net . . .the cheering of the raucous crowd . . . the drowning sound of the buzzer . . .the piercing referees' whistles . . .the crowd's second-guessing . . .the comparisons of yesterday's stars to today's heroes . . .the memories of so many games past . . .ah, what a life I have shared!

It's basketball season! As this one gradually grinds to a halt, I find myself recognizing just how much I love the game, the atmosphere, and the theatrics that make it my sport of choice. Having been involved with it for as long as I can even remember, that round ball is part of me . . .and I am so thankful for it. With each passing year, though, the game changes bit by bit, sometimes positively  but sometimes negatively. The view from my seat exposes what I love and what bugs me about today's high school, college, and professional games!

Loves

In addition to the opening paragraph, I thoroughly enjoy the coaching strategies on display throughout games. Defensive shifts, offensive sets, adjustments during time outs and half times, immediate plays after time outs, clock management, substitution patterns . . . all contribute to the thinking that influence games' outcomes. Of course, coaches try to be as unpredictable as possible, but so much of what they can do is reliant upon their players' basketball intellect. If the players are a bit limited in their understanding of in-game shifts, coaches are handcuffed and are left with limited options. What really impresses is when a team is comprised of high academically achieving kids--they tend to be much more receptive to adjustments that benefit the team, not necessarily the individual.

Hearing people bickering in the stands is something I welcome. Listening carefully, I can pretty much always hear the following yells: "Call 'em both ways!"  "Get 'em off of him!" "Over the back!" "Three seconds!" "Refs must be from [their school]!" "How can they miss that?" "Our coach doesn't know what the hell he's doing!" You get the drift? Fans are fans no matter where they come from. I strongly suspect none of them has ever donned the whistle or coached in a pressure game and truly seen how difficult it is to call or coach a game . . . but that's the beauty of it, I guess.

Watching the competitiveness of athletes never gets old. The give-and-take, back-and-forth  with crowds reacting to the action only heightens the crowd's enthusiasm. As games tighten and time heads toward expiration, the roaring of the crowds brings high school games toward an emotional climax that leaves all involved physically drained at the conclusion . . .who has not felt that exhilarating sensation? The old adage of "thrill of victory and agony of defeat" lives on . . ., but I think we can agree that the "thrill" sure as hell beats the agony!

Bugs

The Euromove--I remain unconvinced it is not a travel.

Today's game allows players to put their heads down and steamroll toward the basket, forcing the referees to dictate whether to call a foul or ignore it. The pressure has intensified for the officials because getting all the way to the basket is the primary thinking of many kids today--I have to think it has arisen because of the example setting from the NBA game.

"Palming the Ball"--it seems as if it is an accepted and overlooked way to dribble the ball.

The elbow jump shot seems to be more of an afterthought, directly related to the steamrolling drive. On rare occasions, I still see it, but I am convinced that the 15'-17' jump shot has fallen victim to the aforementioned drive and the beautiful allure of the 3-point shot . . . a slowly dying fundamental beauty of the game.

The "leave my feet and hope somebody is open so I can make a pass" offense--seems like the jump stop fundamental has ridden itself to the grave.

At the risk of sounding like an ol' codger chomping on about how "it was better in my day," I will cease with my "bugs." To stay current, we have to adapt to the new game . . . , but I didn't say I liked it.

Experiments

I thoroughly enjoy attending the Canton Charge games, and I would encourage anyone who likes basketball to attend a few games (although I just was informed that crowds are soon to be banned from Ohio sporting events because of the dreaded Coronavirus). Yes, if one is geared toward the walk-it-up pace of various high school games or wants a foul every time two players touch, then this league is not an attractive option. I occasionally get asked if those teams are any good, and my response is "Hell yes, they're good--players are one step above Division I and one step below the NBA." They put on a great show with outstanding talent--it's worth a few looks. I mention the Charge for a central reason: the G-League (of which they are a part) experiments with rules/alterations that the NBA is testing to see if they should implement at their level. This year's main tinker is with foul shots; in an attempt to speed the game somewhat, all foul shots until the last two minutes and overtime follow this format: one foul shot is taken: if it is a one-shot foul, the result is one point; if it is two-shot foul, the shooter takes one shot that counts as two points; likewise, if it is a three-shot foul, the shooter takes one shot that counts as three points. If the foul shot is missed, no points are awarded. After watching it for one season thus far, I really like this option. Traditionalists may challenge it, but the pressure is certainly on to make the shot!

That is enough for today...the long winter has dried me up a bit as for my writing. Many topics remain to be explored, but, at this moment, I have chosen to stay removed from the polarizing state of politics and other related issues that seem to represent at times the sorry state of our human minds.Thus, I have ventured into waters that make me happy . . . basketball is my elixir!

It's Time for the Sun!

I have hit the exhaustion point.

 

With the negativity surrounding this fall season, I find it easy to get bogged down and see the world through a dirty window rather than the clearness I typically experience. The never-ending Donald Trump nonsense, the naysayers who continuously berate area school systems, the currently beleaguered Cleveland Browns, . . . , I have hit the point where I am declaring "enough" . . . it's time to focus on positives that put smiles on my face rather than succumbing to the anger, disappointment, frustration, and hatred that I see encompassing so many of us.

 

To accomplish that, I am highlighting people of character--strong character, that is. My life has been influenced quite often by people who represent what I consider to be goodness. Seldom, however, do I spend much time thanking them face-to-face, but today I am zeroing in on a few who have made my world a much happier place merely by their role modeling without their even knowing it!

 

Dr. Paul McFadden has morphed into a dear friend, one I greatly admire for many reasons. Chief among those reasons is that I have never heard him speak negatively about anyone, regardless of whether we agree or disagree. A man of faith and impeccable wholesomeness, Paul devoted his professional life to being a medical doctor, one who treasured the interactions with his patients, who would repeatedly interrupt his personal life to address the medical needs of those who contacted him, and who to this day is never judgmental about others. You see, Paul is an old-school guy, one who values honesty and integrity. A product of an old-school Newcomerstown family, he and his siblings grew up having to work fulfilling the obligations that went with a working class family. Doing chores was second nature to him because that is what his parents expected; that work ethic shaped his life and his career allowing him to be a well-respected doctor but, more importantly, a well-respected man. When I see Paul these days, he makes me smile because I know he is going to tell me something funny or he is going to make an observation I had missed. Bottom line is simple: He has been such a role model not only because of the family he and his wife Linda have nurtured but because he is a humble man who proudly represents positivity and class. I know of no greater compliment to offer this fine man.

 

Mr. Jim Heller is a retired teacher and coach who served in many schools, most notably in Dover. A man's man in many ways, Jim makes sure when he encounters people that the focus is on the other individual, not him. As a man with a quick wit, he is unique, but his knowledge and interests are vast perhaps stemming from his lifelong passion for reading. The contributions he has made and continues to make only further cement my respect for him. In addition to his teaching, he was a long-time track coach and athletic director leaving his mark in many ways, but these days he is intent on honoring those people who have made a significant impact on the Dover High School athletic scene by--in conjunction with others--advancing the school's Hall of Fame. His role--exactly the way that he wants it--is truly "behind the scenes," but without his passion for preserving the past athletic accomplishments of our community, this Hall of Fame dies a slow death. Truly a man of faith, he and his wife Diane are such important figures who have always reflected positivity and can-do attitudes, as shown by Jim's devotion to being physically fit at age 80! When I visit with them, smiles prevail because they understand that the happiness in life needs to be shared. To me, both Jim and his wife have been role models for such a long time--positivity is contagious, and so is character. In short, they are in my Hall of Fame simply because of who they are and how they have lived their lives. What could be a more important legacy than that?

 

Mr. Jay Huston is as quiet and humble man as anyone would ever meet, but to me he is a testament as to how to overcome adversity and live a happy, joyous life centering on placing family first and himself last. To those who know Jay, they clearly understand my description, but for those who do not, Jay remains a mystery, so I must explain his story. Growing up in Port Washington in a family of four boys and caring, loving blue-collar parents, he was a typical small town kid: excelled in four sports as well as academics, involved in school activities, and married his hometown girlfriend, my sister, who shared the same criteria as Jay. Upon high school graduation, he enrolled at Marietta College where he graduated with a degree in petroleum engineering, launching a successful career in that field. As he was ascending the petroleum ladder, however, his life took an abrupt turn: His wife, Carol, was diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer, and from that point his life was never his again. Fighting a fourteen-month battle, Carol passed, and Jay, who had pretty much forfeited his career to take care of her, faced life with two small children in a market where the oil and gas industry was facing a downturn. Working several jobs that he knew he was not tailored for, he trudged forward until meeting a woman who ultimately would become his second wife . . . and what a jewel she is to this day. They eventually had another child, making their family complete, but Jay never again dove into the petroleum industry, instead focusing on a career in the steel mills. That's his story, but here is the real story of what makes Jay such an outstanding man, a role model I will love forever. The man never complained--he accepted his "lot in life," always moving forward, often working seventy-hour weeks to keep his family going. Surrounded by a loving family, his only "me time" was when he was able to go to the Tuscarawas River and fish with his best friend and cousin, Mike McCune. Unfortunately, Mike later died in a job-related accident, essentially depriving Jay of a treasured relationship. I am not writing this to say "Ah, poor Jay"--nothing like that whatsoever. No, this tribute is about his character, his perseverance, and his acceptance of what life deals him. Yes, he has experienced heartbreak, but in his mind, those negatives have only served to make him stronger. To this day, his most valued treasure is his family--children, in-laws, and grandkids. I say it again: I have never heard the man complain. He is a beacon of optimism, a guy whose charming smile makes me realize that when strong character dominates, life is truly grand. For me, his role modeling is contagious--I think the world of him because I know he is genuine, honest, and so grounded . . . my kind of man.

 

How else can I say it? People of character are often overlooked because they may blend in with everyday society rather than toot their own horns. Among us all are those who have made impacts, who have influenced us in ways we never realize until we begin to reflect. The individuals mentioned above fit the profile I admire in others; on days when I may find myself thinking a little too much about my needs and wants, I bring myself down to earth by thinking of my friends whom I consider to be much better than I. Their friendship is valued, but, most certainly, my hope is that we pause, get off the negativity that surrounds us, and truly appreciate what we have right here, right now, in our lives. Maybe that can put a smile on your faces as well as mine, reinforcing the old adage that sunshine is the best disinfectant!

Teaching College Freshman English . . .

"My kid has been accepted into college! I'm so happy!"

 

 . . .and you should be. Your child has begun a journey that is in many ways a reward, yet it is also one that can prove to be exciting, challenging, lonely, and, certainly, financially burdensome. My task today is to offer insight into what I see as a freshman English teacher at the university level to perhaps assist current high school students and parents as they head down this road.

 

After several dormant months of recharging the writing side of my brain, I am ready to "hit the ground running." When writing, of course, the writer must be knowledgeable, credible, and trustworthy. I never know if my reading audience could check all three of those boxes about me, but I am confident enough to throw my thoughts out there and, at the least, stir a few reactions, positive or negative. As I begin my seventh year of teaching college English, I have made many observations that have correlated with my thirty-five years of teaching high school English. To make my points most effectively, I have bulleted each section:

 

*Hoping I am not dampening too many spirits here, but I must begin with a downer: Getting accepted at a college/university is really not that difficult (with the exception of the so-called "prestigious" ones). Universities are in a competing numbers game; so many are trying to sell their programs while hoping to attract students. To keep the doors open and to maintain quality doctorate-prepared professors require student numbers. If those numbers fall short of expectations, consequences result such as elimination of programs (note: The University of Akron), release of professors, and decreased building of updated structures. In short, that is simple math: Keep the numbers up and the university thrives. If numbers drop, heads roll. To prevent the negativity, higher education schools are often willing to accept those students who academically may not be academically prepared (thus the high number of remedial classes offered to incoming freshmen because of numerous academic deficiencies). No, getting accepted to a university is not a major hurdle.

 

*The problem stemming from my previous point is this: Retention of students beyond the first year. Rearing its ugly head, students' lack of preparation places so many schools in a financial and academic quagmire. As stated, kids can get in to a university, but can they stay? As parents, we like to believe that we are talking about the "other" kids, certainly not ours. Unfortunately, often those "other" kids are our own. So many find that when they begin college, the maturity, the studying habits, the preparation, and the desire are lacking. As that slippery slope unravels, students frequently find at year's end that they have pretty much wasted a whole lot of time and money. Obviously, a disclaimer has to be inserted at this point: I am not referring to all students, by any means. However, I am referring to a common problem universities are facing: How do they get kids to recognize the seriousness of that freshmen year? National averages--including all universities--seem to indicate that approximately 75% of the first-year students come back for round two. On one hand, that number sounds about right. It is a "C" average in the academic classroom, so if 3 out of 4 kids make it back, that is impressive . . .unless you are the parent paying for the 1 who did not make it and now face paying an imposing loan of approximately $25,000 for one year with nothing to show for it except the debt!

 

*Given my two previous points, allow me to delve into what I frequently see in my freshman English writing classes, which I strongly suspect is not limited to only my classes. I am quite fortunate to have taught several motivated students who are outstanding writers before they ever enter my classroom. My contribution to their learning is usually finetuning their final products. They are mature, serious students who clearly are well read, well taught, and well nurtured in how to present their thoughts.

 

A second group is those who are not nearly as motivated or as prepared. Unfortunately, many of them have a lower threshold work ethic that limits their wanting to improve. I can deal with those kids quite easily because most of them are our typical kids who lack motivation for reading and writing. Indeed, their motivation may be sports, the hot girl/guy seated in front of them,  or just the desire to get a grade and get out of there--nothing unusual about that. The problem, though, is that quite often these kids' preparation is lacking. So many had enrolled in non-college preparatory English classes (as they have told me, "because I didn't want to take anything hard in high school"). Believe it or not, I encounter many students who have never written a research paper, have done limited reading, and have written so few papers that it is obvious that their high school background as well as their choices have not prepared them for the challenges they encounter. As the dated Midas Muffler marketing jingle expressed, "Pay me now or pay me later!" Later has a price tag. 

 

A third group consists of those kids who are there merely to play sports; yes, a large number envision themselves playing pro ball even though statistically the odds are stacked against that probability. In simple terms, these athletes are not overly concerned about being students. Many of them have been coddled in high school; I must admit I have been overly shocked by that. As an example, one student told me he had gotten "B's" in English throughout his high school years. I could quickly see that was a farce. When I asked him privately how that had happened, his response was that "I played football--they took care of me!" While I would like to think that is the exception, in this case, I think it was true. Of course, I am not implying that all athletes are ineffective students; no, I am saying that many enroll in school with sports being their only focus--that is a serious problem with serious financial implications!

 

Summarizing these three paragraphs is simple: If a kid is prepared academically, his college experience will likely be quite positive; if the kid is not prepared, the experience could be quite negative. 

 

*Advice to Students:

*Read, Think, and Write. To repeat: Read, Think, and Write.  

*Take challenging English classes in high school; if in a noncollege track but planning to attend higher education, switch to the college-prep track, one where a challenge is presented but is not overwhelming or self defeating.       

*Read the newspaper.

 *Read columnists' writing to stimulate thinking enough to formulate your own argument (so many kids have limited knowledge of state/national/world affairs . . . as a result, many have little if any opinions!).

*Read something enjoyable to you so that it does not feel like you have to do it (I began my love of reading via Sports Illustrated!).

*Recognize that you are preparing for what lies ahead--learn the grammatical basics and how to apply those basics to effective writing.

*Know topics well enough to be able to accept or challenge others' opinions--never forget that the sign of an intelligent person is one who views all sides of an issue before voicing an opinion.

 

Advice to Parents:

*Ditto to most of the above but add this: Monitor your students' English classes to ensure they are reading and writing on an ongoing basis. I am not suggesting being a helicopter or snowplow parent, but if you truly want your kids to succeed in their college experience, you need to know what preparation is being done AND that your offsprings are not simply "blowin' off" tasks they do not want to do.

 

 Bottom line, my friends, from my perspective, a large percentage of college freshmen are ill-prepared for the challenge they face in introductory mandatory  English classes. I pinpoint the reason to lack of preparation in meeting an academic challenge requiring reading, thinking, and writing. Yes, in most all cases, this can be prevented, but it requires a concerted, focused high school effort.

 

Think I'm exaggerating? If so, I'm just hoping your kid is not one of those who doesn't return for year 2 because of poor academic performance.

 

Just asking for a friend, who's paying back that $25,000?

Poisoning the Water

I hesitate to weigh in on this sensitive issue, but I am making the plunge: Dover City Schools.

Yes, we are  being confronted with an additional tax levy, one designed to compensate for the factual decline of finances from the state of Ohio. As we all certainly know, any increase in our taxes is invasive, unwelcomed, and sensitive--this second levy request certainly is charged with figurative dynamite. Coupled with the current taste in many mouths is the grade leveling proposal advocated by our school board and administration. At the risk of alienation, I am offering my three cents on three topics:   

1. Board of Education

2. Grade Leveling

3. Levy Request

In so doing, I am quite aware that these topics are on the minds of many . . .perhaps it is time for my voice to be heard.

 

Dover City Schools' Board of Education: I have an ongoing respect for all who choose to serve their community, particularly those who are in elected positions. Having observed many boards in action throughout my life, I know that the best boards are those that do not have a personal "ax to grind," those who sincerely put the schools' well being, financial concerns, and community needs ahead of their own. Granted, these positions are not always popular, but neither is leadership. I would assume that most individuals reading this blog have disagreed with any boss they have had--that is a given, but that responsibility of decision making goes with the territory of leadership. When decisions are made with schools, however, we all have opinions about how insensitive the members are, how unqualified they are, or how they simply do not understand. I get it, but I do not agree at all. I have read and listened to terms describing the Dover School Board as "stupid," "clowns," and "ridiculous." Trust me when I say that this is so completely removed from the five who represent us. I know these board members, I have worked for them, and I trust them. Never have I seen them be dishonest, self-serving, or unprofessional. No, I have not always fully agreed with their decisions, but, truthfully, that is irrelevant. Bottom line is this: These are people of integrity, and any attempt to deface them is a sorry attempt at looking for an excuse or a scapegoat. 

 

Grade Leveling: Before I offer my thoughts, I must stress that I admire the committee that was formed to combat the Board's leveling plan. I was so pleased that these parents cared enough to put their names and their reputations on the line as opposed to those who hid behind an anonymous Times Reporter "30 Seconds" soundoff or a vindictive and cowardly Facebook post. Demonstrating an affection for the community, their elementary buildings, and their children, they stepped forth in public meetings and voiced their concerns--they have earned my respect. Like so many proposals, however, their plan was not accepted. Believe me, I have had many proposals rejected by my bosses over the years--I do not like it when it happens, but I realize that is always a possibility. However, I disagree with the idea that the Board did not even consider the proposal. My instincts tell me that the issue was studied, but agreement was not to be found. For whatever reason, I do not know, but I seriously doubt the accusation that the proposal was not even considered--disagreeing does not always equate with out-and-out rejection.

 

My next observation is based on conversations with administrators from three school districts in Ohio that have undergone grade leveling; additionally, I have spoken with teachers who have undergone the same transition in two districts. I have also met with a Walsh University Education professor who offered her views and directed me to numerous research articles that address this issue. What I have learned is that for the benefit of education and for economic stability--once the initial shock of having students in different buildings expires--grade leveling presents a dynamic opportunity to experience growth in so many areas.

 

Quoting an administrator from one of these schools: "The good teachers became great teachers and the great teachers became outstanding teacher leaders--it is awesome to be part of. I don't think I could find a teacher on staff who would tell you they would go back to the community buildings."

 

Additionally, I was told this: "How exciting to be a true Dover kid from the start . . . not a South, East, or Dover Avenue kid and then a Dover kid . . .building a community from Day 1."

 

Finally, these words resonate with me: "I recognize and respect the emotions involved with this change, but I cannot support the 'reaching' concerns or hide my excitement for Dover and what this will really do for the schools as well as the community. A move like this could send Dover off the charts as far as achievement and instruction."

 

My point is simple: Change is going to occur whether we like it or not. In this community, for a variety of reasons, we are tradition bound and married to our buildings. However, that phase of the community will soon be in the rearview mirror. I sense that--like a distant memory--we will move on and what we once lived through and for will gradually become foggy. . . a time we do not want to forget yet one that is gone. I like the leveling idea, but its success or failure lies in the hands of the teachers, the administrators, and the parents. From my research and conversations, I am convinced that it will be a boon to our schools!

 

Levy Request: I probably am "stepping on toes" when I write this, but so be it. For those who were shocked by the levy request many months ago, I would say this: Had you been reading the literature put out by the district for the past several years? Had you read the articles in the Times Reporter about this levy? I am pretty confident that what I will hear is "Hell no--I don't read that rag of a paper or any of that other junk the school sends us--it's a waste of money!" Well, if we plead ignorance, I argue that we did it by choice--we chose not to be informed.  I knew the levy request was coming because we had been told for years that the levy in question had exceeded its financial timeline--the cuts had been ongoing for many years. Before I retired, I was teaching at the high school, and we underwent numerous cuts to save the district money. No, I did not like it, but its purpose was to extend the finances. . .and it worked. That levy was stretched five years longer than its intent. Believe it if you choose, but I know it for a fact: The stretching delayed the inevitable. Yes, the prevailing levy request for a new high school building complicated the picture, but I seriously doubt we will have many detractors when that building is done. Progress must be paid for--we know that. We are getting a new building, and we are in a financial quagmire, but the only people who can prevent further cuts are Dover taxpayers. I know I am voting for the levy because I trust the process of advancement. I do not think I am overstating when I say that I have always loved living, teaching, and coaching in Dover; if I have to pay more to sustain that excellence, I will, regardless the cost. Our schools are the hub of this community. Even for those who say too much emphasis is placed on sports, music, or whatever, the schools are ours, and I am proud of that acknowledgement.

 

The crossroad we are staring at is simple: We are either moving forward or we are moving backward--unfortunately, school financing in this state does not provide a "stay where we are" option. It is our call.

 

To bring this lengthy blog to a halt, allow me to explore what will prevent us from remaining on an upward trend: ourselves. We are blessed with a great opportunity to continue our progress if . . .

 

*our elementary teachers are as excellent as I believe they are, they will rise to the occasion and will continue to excel in their craft without feeling sorry for themselves because the "neighborhood connection" is disappearing--their excellence will be facing a new challenge!

*our parents and relatives can be great encouragers as opposed to continually bemoaning that the grade leveling is a negative and our schools are being run by incompetent people--they will be contributing to a positive culture rather than one of anger and resentment.

*our administrators and Board of Education can continue to lead and make the tough decisions with concern, intelligence, and foresight, we can accept the role of leadership and its impact on moving our schools forward.

 

It is our turn once again to display a strong voice in our future. Please, my friends, do not poison the water by allowing the perceived negatives and disgruntling attitudes to control the flow toward a positive future. We need this cooperative community to set certain frustrations aside so we can continue to move forward.

 

Only we can prevent the negatives from poisoning our schools' future. . .it's in our hands . . .and know that our kids are going to follow our vibes.



Views from the Hot Seat...: Difficult Times Ahead?

Views from the Hot Seat...: Difficult Times Ahead?: How do we plug the drain?   I am not referencing plumbing or politics. Instead, I am referring to two key areas, both of which cannot l...

Difficult Times Ahead?

How do we plug the drain?

 

I am not referencing plumbing or politics. Instead, I am referring to two key areas, both of which cannot live without the other: middle/high school sports and officials. Both appear to be suffering, and I fear that unless the problems are soon rectified, interscholastic athletics as we know them today will be drastically altered in the near future. Trust me, I am not enjoying my commentary on these matters because I hold school competition quite dear to my heart. After spending pretty much a lifetime being involved as either a player, coach, or a referee, I find it quite difficult to turn my back and take a nonchalant attitude toward what I see brewing. Here is the two-pronged dilemma:

 

#1: Decreasing Youth Participation and #2 Decreasing numbers of officials.

 

#1: I am increasingly concerned as I view basketball box scores and talk with coaches about numbers of students unwilling to continue their participation in competitive school athletics. What began alarming me a few years ago was when I noticed that various schools could no longer field girls' junior varsity teams. This past fall I was further incensed when one local school district was not certain if it would have enough kids to even present a boys' varsity team; fortunately, a team was gathered and is competing this winter. Like many, though, my question is Why? How can an area like our Valley, one that is rich in basketball tradition and success, be faced with this lack of interest? Allow me to theorize possible causes:

     A. The standard line, of course, is that kids are different today, not willing to accept a commitment and live by it. Definitely, that plays a role but certainly is not the only reason. Kids dedicate themselves to so many different activities, so the commitment argument has merit, but much more contributes to this issue.

     B.  Travel teams and youth organized sports definitely play roles. For whatever reason, the brainwashing that kids must participate on organized teams as young as possible has been allowed to grow . . .and fester. While I suppose if I were a parent of a kid whom I envisioned was going to be a star, I would probably want him/her to continue to improve. However, the racket of travel teams has typically evolved into a cash cow for the organizers, regardless of the sport. In fact, this weekend over 4000 youths participated in Canton, Ohio, for the World Youth Football Championships . . .chi ching . . .I hear the cash registers from here! However, recognize that the kids who dominate most travel teams are the ones whose parents can afford it, with occasional exceptions. The downside, of course, is if kids are in organized, coached sports at a young age, the risk increases that the kids simply tire of sports, coaches, and competition as they often realize that their skill levels frequently equate to "average" as they grow. Additionally, kids who simply had not physically developed at young ages face an almost hidden rejection, thus losing interest. Again, this is not the whole issue, but it has to be part of it.

     C.  Parental pressure on both kids and coaches can destroy kids' enthusiasm for school sports. If parents continue to  criticize kids' performances and coaches' perceived slights, most kids will not want to subject themselves to that personal embarrassment. Parents may rationalize it by claiming that they are merely trying to encourage their kids, but I seriously doubt if most kids see it the same way.

     D.  Coaches' increasing demands in multiple sports put kids in awkward situations; for example, if the coach in one sport demands increased off-season time while another coach is doing the same, kids frequently say their lives will be easier if not trying to balance those two or three sports. Believe me, I understand why coaches do that--to be successful in an environment where the competition is getting better requires other coaches to do the same. However, every now and then kids will say they are quitting one sport to focus on another. Coupled with the number of "skills academies" that continuously surface, kids often envision glimpses of themselves as standout collegiate and even professional players--whether it is legit or not. Perhaps another part of the equation is that coaches themselves put pressure on kids and may not appreciate that they are even doing it.
     E.  Pay-to-Play is often cited as a major deterrent to kids' participation; I have trouble buying that school of thought in this era where we buy kids expensive cell phones, pay elevated prices for AAU, JO, and private instruction--seems like an excuse to me, yet it may also play a limited role in lack of numbers.

     F.  Losing is contagious, and, frequently, if kids have been exposed to much losing, a heightened awareness that sports = losing may begin to override the fun and benefits of being on a middle/high school team. If losing becomes the norm, it takes a special kid and a special coach to override that equation. To best understand, refer above to letter A--accepting that commitment may go against many kids' determination to overcome such an obstacle.

 

Here's the deal: several schools in our valley today are struggling to get kids to remain involved. What must be attacked is the reason why. In solving any problem, of course, we seldom look in the mirror. Perhaps piecing together a puzzle of the causes may help lead to a solution. While this may have already happened (I hope so), perhaps affected schools could begin a collaboration with parents to seek input on what can be done to alleviate the problem. If not, I fear that schools will be dropping various sports in the near future . . . so get ready for the screams to begin then!

 

#2: The average age of officials in all sports in Ohio athletics today is 52, an alarming number. Typical officiating classes for incoming officials in our area have fewer than 5 participants, and that is in a good year. Bottom line is that individuals do not want to officiate. Reasons why are certainly varied, but I am convinced that most adults find it easier to be critical of officials than to make themselves get involved in the game. Running the risk of "back in the day" stories, I make my point. When I was in college, I took a coaching basketball class as a freshman; included in that curriculum was a presentation by an official who laid out the process for becoming a referee. I was interested in it, pursued it, and soon became a rookie official. Arriving at that destination was not easy, however, because I had to study the rule book "inside and out," learn the rules, and master--as much as possible--the details associated with officiating. Simply stated, it was not an easy task, but what I truly learned was how much about the game that I did not know or had not even considered. It was a humbling experience, believe me, but as the years went by, I found my confidence increasing, my understanding growing, and my enjoyment surpassing any expectations I had. In short, I loved it--the camaraderie with fellow officials, coaches, and players only re-enforced that I wanted to be involved with kids and sports for my career. Also, the money was not over-the-top, but I rarely felt I was underpaid; for me, the benefits far outweighed the negatives.

 

My point in telling my story is that I was not afraid to accept a new challenge, even one that put me in the firing line of coaches and fans. The truth is those experiences helped me when I did become a coach . . .no regrets. Using my experience as my litmus test, I struggle with why young people--specifically former athletes--will not accept the challenge of contributing to the preservation of youth sports. Maybe it is because they are reluctant to endure the antics of fans and coaches, maybe it is because they feel it is an infringement on their time, maybe they do not think the money is worth their time, or maybe they just feel they are above it. Regardless of the reasoning, middle/high school sports are at a critical juncture: if new officials do not emerge and "pay their dues," we should not be alarmed when games are cancelled due to no officials being available or only one official does the game because no one else is available. While the problem is growing, I am convinced most fans either disregard it or are not even aware of its severity. My appeal is to those former high school athletes who still have an interest in sports: you need money, you like competition, you want to stay in shape, you want a challenge--Get Involved! Without your taking the plunge, the future is looking quite murky.

 

High school sports are a key lifeline of a community--we cannot take them for granted. Periodically, I hear people talking about how so many others just don't care about a variety of issues, such as reading a newspaper or taking the initiative to vote; perhaps, though, if our beloved sports begin getting impacted, our attention may be slapped, and we may appreciate the beauty of middle/high school athletics!

 

I Plead Ignorance

I am a bit perplexed today as I continue my quest to fully understand the political maneuverings of the times. As we all know, after much partisanship posturing, a new Supreme Court Justice has been seated . . . hooray. Like so many, I have no definitive knowledge whether the Democrats staged a last-minute sabotage or the Republicans pulled a fast one--I know what I read and what I hear. I suppose that is the beauty of not being affiliated with either party because my vision is not warped by party allegiance, so I can attempt to view issues through a clear glass . . . sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. On Sunday evening's 60 Minutes, as I watched Senators Susan Collins and Heidi Heitkamp explain their respective votes for and against the nominee in question, I was convinced that both clearly, intelligently, and logically explained their reasoning--both had definitely done their homework and voted their conscience. I applauded both for their careful consideration and, from my seat, relatively unbiased choices. Regardless of which way the overall vote went, chaos was going and will continue to emerge . . . the can of worms has been opened.

 

With all that said, though, I am not sure that I understand a term that has been debated for and argued against. Until I have a clear understanding of this powerful word, I will remain skeptical of just exactly what is motivating this fight among political opponents:

 

                                                                     What is a Conservative?

 

 Constantly, I have been bombarded with this term. Statements such as "Finally we are guaranteed a Conservative Supreme Court for many years," "No more of these damn liberal rulings," . . . are two personal ones I have heard in the last four days. However, when I asked a Conservative friend to tell me what a Conservative is, the response was "I don't know, but I am one." My counter response was "What the hell do you mean?" The conversation ended.

 

Allow me to think aloud for a few moments: Does being a Conservative mean that our country is perhaps headed to "a return to the good ol' days" where lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and transgenders no longer will have equal rights? Where attempts to balance racial equality will revert to yesteryear's standards? Where immigration will take a turn to "how it should be"? I am asking these questions--as stated in my title--because I am seriously ignorant of what "Conservative" means. My friends, I await clarification--please educate me.

 

On another political observation, we adults really have a way of screwing up situations, but I am not sure that we even know it. Because of my involvement with young people for a lifetime, I certainly would love to see the younger generation become immersed in knowledge and understanding of the political process. However, my observations are that so many just surrender and truly do not care. When they see a political establishment dominated primarily by seasoned politicians who are somewhat "long in the tooth," we would hope that the younger generation would recognize the respect those people deserve due to their longevity and devotion to the American cause. Unfortunately, what I suspect the young folks see is a bunch of decrepit old people--primarily white men--who ooze power and control and need to retire to the comfort of their home districts. In short, the constant bickering, accusations, and beat downs have done nothing to advance arguments; rather, they simply have turned off younger people, and, I suspect, many of the "not so young," as well.

 

Let's not kid ourselves: The more divided we are, the more divided we will remain. Waiting for a Wonder Woman or Superman candidate is getting harder with each passing day. As we continue to place blame on "the other side," the gap widens. As that fissure hardens, so many Americans of all ages are becoming less interested. For several years, I have advocated that the formation of a third political party holds the key for advancement, not merely survival of the political process.

 

I suppose it is a mute point: The younger generation doesn't really care . . . and it's our fault.

Our Voice Is Gone

The voice of the valley is gone . . . and I have lost another buddy.

 

Part of Tuesday evening, I attended calling hours at Dover's Toland-Herzig Funeral Home paying respects to the family of a good friend, Dick Farrell, who had lost his battle with Father Time. A sad occasion, of course, yet a celebration of a man who lived life his way, pedal to the metal with a soft underbelly that he was not afraid to show . . . if one knew him well.

 

In many ways, he was a man's man, a stereotypical ol' newspaper man who could smoke and drink with the best of  'em. He cherished interacting with others, loved conversation, held strong beliefs, possessed a humility allowing him "to agree to disagree" without affecting friendships, and remained loyal to his friends. Of course, he loved the newspaper business, but he recognized long ago that its future ran contrary to its past . . . to survive required a technological wizardry, and he was astute enough to plunge head on into learning the computer world.  

 

Saddened by the changing journalistic era, he understood--and reflected upon--how the world as he knew it was changing. Ultimately, he left the paid world of journalism and began writing his blogs, visible on Facebook and Twitter. While many of his generation despised those social media outlets, he embraced them, permitting him to offer his perspective of the world through a newer medium  . . . and for that so many of us are so grateful.

 

With that background now provided, allow me to describe the Dick Farrell I will remember:

 

I am pretty much a journalistic junkie who reads various papers and columnists. To this day, my favorite columnist is the long gone Southern humorist Lewis Grizzard. A weekly syndicated columnist, Lewis knew how to touch the common man. Often, he would make me laugh by writing a serious message while injecting Southern euphemisms into his work. I often told Dick that he was the Tuscarawas valley's version of Lewis. That would always force a smile and a laugh because Dick knew exactly what I meant: He was OUR voice of reason, common sense, and insight. Always aware that a newspaper's first job was to sell papers, he knew how to touch nerves with people. I suspect--in fact, I know--that he would play devil's advocate at times just to irritate people. His logic was that if they were irritated, at least they were reading his material. Translated, they were buying the paper!

 

Dick loved controversy because in his business that is what sells. I have to think that of all his columns--I should interject that I would love to see a publication produced that contained all his editorials over the years--he was most proud of his annual advice to parents of Little Leaguers. Every spring he would print it as his editorial, forcing parents to face their flaws in their ever-present attempt to make their kids stars . . . he humbled us all. Much to my pleasure, that exact column was framed and displayed in the funeral home. To me, it brought a tear because that was Dick, a guy who was getting his final say on the way out.

 

While I could share many stories, two will suffice to capture his charisma. A mutual friend and occasional golf partner, Max Nedele, shared this with me two years ago. Max made it clear that before he actually had met Dick, he had pretty much despised him because Dick used "to piss him off" with his editorials. A typical Tuscarawas County man, Max holds strong beliefs--where he got them is his business, but he rarely agreed with Dick. Upon meeting, working, and golfing with Dick for several years while both were in retirement, Max and his opinions gradually underwent a change. In short, he began to see a bigger picture, one that allowed him to understand a different perspective. As Dick's illnesses began to intensify, Max sat with me one afternoon on the Zoar Golf Club patio and shared that he loved Dick, that he was one of his best friends, and that he just could not stand to see Dick suffering the way that he was. If Dick were to hear that, of course, he would say, "Shut the hell up, Max, and quit whining around," and I feel certain that he would then wink at me. Their manly banter aside, the two cared for each other deeply, finding a friendship that was so meaningful to each . . . although they would never admit it to each other . . . man-code, you know.

 

My second story involves a recent summer evening I spent in the summer room of Dick and his wife Suzanne's home, visiting with the two of them. I was told later how much he enjoyed our interaction, but it was I who will cherish that memory. Our conversation was certainly friendly, humorous, and insightful as we discussed our lives, his family, his oxygen-deprived state, sports, golf, Max, politics, the newspaper business, and his distrust of Donald Trump. We laughed, commiserated, and griped--through our lives, the two of us certainly had a mutual respect for one another, although it was one that we simply never verbalized . . . man-code, you know. Bottom line, however, was that we both knew but did not want to admit that his time on earth was fading. When I prepared to leave, he walked to the garage with me, switching from his in-house oxygen tubes to his garage tubes, where we bid our farewells by shaking hands. My take was to tell him "to keep hanging in there" (a statement that seems so weak as I write today), and his words were his signature "God love ya." My truth is that when I drove away, I thought that might be the last time I would ever see him.  A few weeks thereafter, he was admitted to the Cleveland Clinic where he fought his battle until his demise. I never saw him again.

 

So, today, he is gone. I write this with absolutely no intent to provoke sympathy--my heavens, no. Rather, I write this as a tribute to a man I enjoyed tremendously, a writing voice I loved to read, and a personality that reflected his way, whether others agreed with him or not. I am going to miss him, but believe me when I think of Dick Farrell, a smile will cross my face. What better compliment could a man offer another . . . man-code, you know.

 

 

 



Making Sense of This Cluster

Language shapes our interpretation of messages.

 

If I call a person a freak, weirdo, or idiot, I have created an unflattering picture with negative connotations. Contrasting that, if I call that same person different, unique, or eccentric, I have created a picture that characterizes but does not necessarily belittle the individual. Regardless of what words I use, I am somehow influencing the message that is received.

 

I mention the above because I--like most of us in this country--am still trying to understand just what the hell is going on with the current immigration debate. Any time I am perplexed about an issue, I typically revert to my knowledge of fundamentals. While I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer, I am quite confident in my ability to break down issues  to their barest form, the fundamentals. Thus, as I try to make sense of what has occurred in the past few months, I find myself  reviewing what I teach in my Walsh University English 102 classes: the basics of rhetoric. Having said that, please come along with me for a quick reminder of the fundamentals of persuasion as I lead into my mindset of trying to understand this significant immigration issue!

 

First, it is always essential to understand the simplest definitions of key terms; in this case, the following must be understood:

*Rhetoric (Rhetorical Situations): Language (verbal and nonverbal) that is being used to persuade;

*Logos: Logic, strategies, and evidence that are being used to shape an argument;

*Pathos: Emotion that is being used to help influence an argument;

*Ethos: Credibility and trustworthiness of the person(s) presenting the argument.

 

Here is the situation, as most anyone who follows the news understands:

 

We have a serious immigration issue in our country; this cannot be disputed, regardless of whether various news reports downplay its severity or heighten its intensity. The problem exists. One needs to look no further than this summer's ICE arrests in our neighboring Stark County to recognize that illegal immigration is affecting Ohio. Even closer, one look at the Dover City Schools will attest that the school system is currently seeking answers--both academic and financial--of how to effectively manage the blending of ESL (English as a Second Language) students into the system without disrupting the quality of education and the taxpayers' pocketbooks. Make no mistake: the problem is here and apparently appears to be growing significantly by the month.

 

Nearly two months ago, a zero tolerance policy preventing parents (or guardians) from bringing their children into the United States was implemented by the President Trump administration (although the semantics of whether it was a law or a policy, begun by President Obama or President Trump remain subject of discussion for many). From that implementation, a significant citizen pushback ultimately led to a reversal of that zero policy (although many dispute that the pushback was the true reason for the reversal). So, as it stands today, families are painstakingly being reunited--somewhat successfully--as both parents and children are methodically being traced so reunification can occur. However, despite whatever has occurred, the problem of illegal immigration into our country remains. Little has been solved.

 

Understanding  this predicament is heartwrenching, of that we cannot argue. However, looking at the situation from a rhetorical perspective, perhaps we can have a more solid understanding of why I have labeled the immigration issue a "cluster."

 

Logos: This is the heart and soul of any argument--what logic, evidence, statistics, personal anecdotes, case history, . . . can be provided to support the persuaders' points? While I have clearly stated that I am not an ardent supporter of our President's character (to be explored under Ethos), I must admire him for having the tenacity to attack this problem. Despite many people's anger toward the family separation, I am still eagerly awaiting a feasible solution to the problem. What can we do to stop the overrunning influence of illegal immigrants? Yes, our country needs immigration; so many of the immigrants/refugees are hardworking, productive people who simply want to make a living and escape the dread their previous lives have presented. So, the argument of painting all of them "with the same brush" is foolish and is merely an example of hyperbole (exaggeration for effect) designed to stir the masses with anger and agreement with our country's leader. That exaggeration is simply ignored by me. I am confident that Case Farms, for example, would cease to be the business that it is without the immigrant labor. Of course, we like to think that such businesses are taking the jobs of homegrown Americans . . . truly laughable to me. So many of our American unemployed are that way because they simply have chosen not to work; therefore, this immigration argument must also present the side that immigration labor is essential to so much of our country, of which I have provided only a snapshot. However, the economic truth is that our country cannot afford the escalating costs of maintaining unfettered immigration. Simply put, our country's claim of welcoming diversity is being put to the test--something must be done because without a reasonable and fair alternative, our country as we know it could be bankrupted beyond our current beliefs. The logic clearly indicates that something must be done and done soon; without a fix, we are in deep trouble.

 

Pathos: The images that were presented on our nightly news, on our newspapers' front pages, on our magazines' covers, and on our social media websites are the reason the zero tolerance policy(?) was stopped. Any opportunity to tug at the heartstrings of people is an effective rhetorical device. Seeing and hearing small children and infants influence us, oftentimes in a way that allows us to forget the logic and focus on the emotion. As other examples, why do telethons invariably highlight a child confined to a wheelchair, news programs feature crying mothers sobbing over the loss of their children, or charity events call for increased financial contributions because "after all, it is for the kids"? All are designed to use emotion and vivid imagery to provoke a desired reaction. I clearly understand the power of visuals to persuade an argument, but the strength of an argument is not found in those strategies if the audience recognizes that the power of an argument is in the logic, not the emotion. On a simpler note, parents should imagine if we responded only to the pathos presented by our kids' logic rather than our more mature logic--the kids would get whatever they want whenever they want. Repeating my point, I am convinced that--in the public's eyes--the zero tolerance issue was tossed due to pathos, not necessarily logos.

 

Ethos: This point is central to any argument: if the person delivering the message cannot be trusted, is not seen as reliable and honorable, and has a track history of lying and bullying, why should we buy into the message? Of course, I can assume that most readers will understand that I am referencing our current President. As stated in a previous blog, I despise his character. Thus, his message gets garbled with me. Yes, I get the logic and I understand pathos's role, but the persistent changing of the President's mind, the documented history of lying, and the general lack of trust I have in him undermines his credibility. When he makes a statement, I simply cannot buy in--like the boy who cries wolf, the President has dragged me this direction before only to disappoint me (need I provide examples?). This is the crux of my dilemma: I recognize we are facing a serious problem, but I simply am shaken by the man leading the crusade. Please forget the Democratic vs. Republican drama that many fight . . . I am not involved in that catfight. This issue supersedes any of that nonsense--this drama is about solving a problem, one that presents a serious threat to our economy on so many levels. Allow me to go a step further; our media--many sources of which I do trust--have also done their share of undermining progress by choosing words such as "ripped the child from the mom's arms" instead of saying "removed the child from the mom's arms." Please recognize that certain agendas are being advanced depending on which source is being referenced. Again, the news source's credibility can be shaken by the implied bias that often surfaces--was the child ripped or removed from the mom? Yes, the word choice does make a difference, the source that reports it  makes a significant difference, but nothing is as influential as the person delivering the message.

 

One other point I must address in this lengthy blog today is a fallacy known as confirmation bias--reading and believing only that information supporting one's points of view. Most of us--including me--are guilty of this to a certain degree. As I have stated many times in previous blogs, to see a situation rationally requires us to look beyond our own perspectives and biases and attempt to develop an understanding of both sides of an issue. If all we see is our perspective, we are pigeonholing ourselves, and any open mindness is gone. Recently, I read a book recommended to me by a longtime friend. Through the book Secret Empires, I was challenged to see the Presidency and our country's legislators from the perspective of persistent corruption. I mention this only to make a point: I need to continually be exposed to thinking that forces me to develop a more thorough understanding.

 

Put it all together, my friends, and here is what I am seeing from my seat: To understand persuasion at any level and in any form, we must understand how language works and how arguments are manipulated. Merely listening to a loud voice is seldom an indicator of open-minded thinking; if we force ourselves to rationalize, to understand others' perspectives, and to recognize the power of language, we can intelligently understand what a sound argument looks like. Understanding divisive situations such as immigration demands that we educate ourselves beyond the simplistic.

 

Without close reading, listening, and thinking, we can often fall for anything.

Previous blog entries can be found at michaelagunther.blogspot.com.

Views from the Hot Seat...: Forever Young

Views from the Hot Seat...: Forever Young: "Why don't you write more frequently?" is a question I have been asked many times since I began writing this blog five years ...

Forever Young

"Why don't you write more frequently?" is a question I have been asked many times since I began writing this blog five years ago. My response is quite typical: I write when something moves me to do so. Oftentimes, I have no idea why certain thoughts infiltrate my thinking--today is one of those days.

 

For whatever reason, I miss my sister.

 

It's no special occasion such as a birthday, an anniversary, or a family event. I would assume it is related to something spiritual, perhaps, but I truly have no idea what that would be. Bottom line is that on this day, her image continues to appear in my mind. Because I best express myself through the written word, allow me a trip down memory lane where maybe I can make sense of my thoughts.

 

As I look back, my life has been a series of mostly positive events with a few negatives dropped in just to add a bit of flavor to my experiences. I find it easy to say that my upbringing was solid with strong parenting and loyal friends. However, having a sister who died at 32 in the prime of her life (with a family consisting of a son, a daughter, and a husband) was one of those moments that I guess I have never truly "come to grips with." Even today I sometimes find my voice cracking and tears forming when a conversation includes her name. Strangely, it does not hurt to talk of her; actually, I feel proud when I do so, but I still emotionally feel that connection. Even more odd is that we were not truly "blood" siblings; she was adopted as was I, both from different parents. However, that oddity is certainly irrelative when it comes to our emotional bond.

 

From the beginning, my sister Carol was better than I. She was a smarter student, a more quality person, and a more engaging personality. Filled with a freckled face, her smile was infectious, and her charm was so obvious. I suppose somewhere out there she had those who did not like her, but I seriously doubt that many exist. From her days of attending Dennison St. Mary's Elementary School to her time as a student at Indian Valley South and Akron University, she was a disciplined, dedicated student and friend. From a religious perspective, she was so devoted to the teachings of the Catholic Church from the time she was young. I, on the other hand, was not necessarily the opposite, but I was a bit more of a renegade than she. School for me consisted of being a smart ass, wishing I was outside playing sports rather than sitting in a classroom listening to a nun lecture me about why I needed to know this or that. Carol liked church; I did not. Having to sit still for an hour with neatly combed hair, a quiet mouth, and a rambunctious spirit did not add up to a pleasant experience. Getting my butt dragged out of church by my dad and getting spanked was pretty predictable; Carol, of course, did all the kneeling and praying as demanded by the old-school church. No, she was not the chosen one, but my orneriness certainly raised her status within the family. I am smiling as I write this--she was so good.

 

As her life unfolded, she did all the typical moves to ensure a level of popularity: cheerleader, band member (days I was subjected to her practicing her flute, which came after her clanging the cymbals!), track participant, student council representative, class officer, . . .--the picture is clear. Of course, she seemed to attract boyfriends, which I thought was pretty cool because they were athletes I looked up to. As high school wrapped up, she moved on to what was then Akron University. Naturally, she excelled, receiving a 4.0 practically every semester. In time, she married her high school sweetheart, Jay Huston, a man I admired then and still do today. In short, they were a perfect couple, although for the first few years of their married life they lived in Marietta as her husband completed his petroleum engineering degree while she worked as a secretary, often surviving on popcorn and water while they struggled to "make ends meet" in their rented trailer. Soon thereafter, though, they began a family, moving to a small plot of land outside Port Washington, Ohio, having a son, Jayson, and a few years later a daughter, Samantha. In short, the storybook small town love affair was well underway.

 

In time, her husband began climbing the oil/gas hierarchy leading them for a period of time to relocate to Texas where he assumed a significant leadership role within the Halliburton Company. Soon, though, they missed their roots and returned to Tuscarawas County, residing in Bolivar and then building their dream home on the outskirts of Dover. While here, she was a teacher at New Philadelphia High School as well as an adjunct professor at KSU Tuscarawas. Within this period, though, the dream bubble began to take on a different slant. During this return stretch to our county, she was diagnosed with esophageal cancer, one that ultimately took her life within fourteen months, leaving her husband with two kids, ages three and five. Sparing the details of those fourteen months is certainly deliberate; my point is not to invoke sympathy but to compliment her bravery, strength, and devotion.

 

You see, I learned so much from her that still influences me today. As I matured in my behavior and in my thinking, I realized what a special gift she was, While she was sick, I do not recall her complaining as we watched her body deteriorate. Instead, she was upbeat despite her fatal prognosis. Her children were always first, her thoughts of others exceeding her failing health. Like so many cancer victims, she had brief stretches where it appeared all was in remission only to be humbled by its dreaded return. Through it all, she demonstrated such courage that I so admired. In truth, at that point in life, I could not understand where that courage was coming from. She was fighting a battle we all strongly suspected she could not win, but she continued the fight. What mattered to her, I suspect, was that she was going to give it hell until the end . . . and that she did.

 

As so many of us know, when someone near to us passes away--particularly someone young--we are shellshocked, having little clue how to resume our normal lives. However, we also know that we do ultimately compose ourselves and return to an event-filled, new life. When Carol passed, I vividly remember my brother-in-law Jay comforting me by saying, "We don't have to understand life; we just have to live it." Simple words, of course, but they remain so reassuring to this day, and I oftentimes find myself repeating them to others when they, too, experience the passing of a loved one. Additionally, borrowing the words of Edgar Allan Poe, "No one ever dies as long as there is someone to remember," I have been blessed to confront deaths of friends and other family members with whatever strength is required, and I relate it to those two sayings.

 

Today, I miss my sister. In my mind's eye, she is still that curly-haired girl with freckles, a grin, and a motivation to be somebody special. Truly, she left her own legacy, spawning a beautiful daughter who looks so much like her, a son who loves adventure, and a husband who regrouped his life and married a charming, wonderful woman who met the challenge of raising Carol's two children and treating them as her own, an accomplishment I will never forget.

 

In a nutshell, I benefited so much from Carol's life, and, fortunately, I matured into someone who still is nowhere near her grace and class yet someone who was smart enough to learn from those better than I. So special she was, and she, of course, will always remain forever young (as my man Bob Dylan echoed) to me.