A Most Extraordinary Woman

14469587_10154575770011967_2241016345344877148_n-1We worry as a society because there seems to be a noticeable lack of ethical behavior in today’s world. We’ve seen our fellow citizens gloss over lies when convenient and often make excuses for acts that might have been deemed unacceptable in the past. When individuals have the courage to speak up for their principles too often people chastise them for not going with the flow of modern day thinking. It is more and more difficult for someone to demonstrate moral courage because in doing so they may become the butt of insulting tweets or Facebook posts that demean them rather than celebrate them as the noble people that they are.

Joanna Rodriguez is my own personal hero. I watched this quiet and unassuming young woman become a warrior for justice at a moment in time when few of her peers were willing to step forward to do the right thing. There was an incident at the high school where I was the Dean of Faculty in which a group of students were caught attempting to make copies of an exam that had been stolen from one of the teachers. The principal gathered the members of the class together hoping that someone who had information on the culprits might acknowledge the truth. Instead there was a deadly conspiratorial silence in the room as the teacher emotionally urged his students to speak the truth.

Suddenly Joanna emerged from the back of the room and stood defiantly in front of her classmates. She spoke eloquently of the importance of providing information on anyone who may have been involved in the cheating. She was so moved in her search for the truth that her voice broke and she seemed to be on the verge of tears. Her classmates stared incredulously at her and for a time nobody spoke but they had indeed heard her words. Not long afterward several other highly respected members of the class secretly revealed who had been involved in the scandal.

I was in awe of Joanna Rodriguez for the depth of her character and for the bravery that she had exhibited. It was not in her nature to be the center of attention but it was very much like her to be a champion for what is right and just. I knew back then that our world was going to be a better place because it would have young people like her moving into positions of leadership in the future. Now Joanna is ready to assume the full mantle of adulthood as a graduate of the University of Houston Downtown with a degree in education.

Joanna has worked long and hard to reach this moment and she is more than prepared to become a teacher at KIPP Voyage Girls Academy this spring. She excelled in her classes and did an outstanding job as a student teacher. Little wonder that she was recruited by more than one school district. She has chosen to return to her roots in the KIPP Charter system to pay forward the lessons that she learned when she was young as well as those that she mastered in college.

Joanna will be an exceptional role model for the young ladies of KIPP Voyage. She carries herself with the kind of dignity and confidence that they need to see. She is bright and creative and most of all incredibly loving. I have little doubt that she will be successful at building lasting relationships with her students and that she will show them how to find their own paths to and through life. She is living proof that working hard and being nice pay huge dividends. 

Joanna Rodriguez and young women like her represent the best of our future. She has become exactly the kind of person that we hoped she and her classmates would one day be. She is the culmination of efforts from many dedicated people and now she will accept the mantle of responsibility to continue those efforts in guiding a new generation of students. She is so real and so ready to embark on the most important work that anyone might ever do.

Joanna has had an exhilarating couple of months. In addition to completing her university requirements and practicing her craft as a student teacher, she became engaged to a very fine young man. I suspect that the two of them will eventually build a family as strong and loving as the one in which she grew in her own wisdom and grace. Her parents worked in tandem with those of us who were her educators and demonstrated their devotion to raising her well. She has enjoyed a very fine example of parenting that will serve her both in the classroom with her students and later if she decides to have children of her own.

I feel a certain sense of pride that Joanna has chosen to be a teacher. It is one of the most noble professions but it is also difficult. Sadly our society does not always celebrate the importance of educating the young. It sometimes takes true grit to expend the long hours and to endure the criticisms of a society that is willing to pay college football coaches millions while neglecting to honor the men and women who toil unsung in our schools. If there is anyone who has what it takes to rise above the clamor and realize the joy and importance of teaching, it is Joanna Rodriguez.

I hope that she finds as much fulfillment in her career as I did and that she has the pleasure of meeting many young people like herself. I wish for her to find the daily pleasure that is the reward of working with our young. I wish her well as she begins a journey that will be filled with many adventures and blessings. Most of all I thank her for including me in the climb to the top of her mountain. From where I stand the view is beautiful and I see a most wonderful future for her.

Gleeful Sounds

music-notes-clip-art-png-139835101453My mother had so many natural talents, among them was an incredible ear for music. She had no idea what the notes on a sheet meant but she was able to clearly hear the nuances of melodies and harmonies. When she taught a group of fifth graders she became well known for the beautiful sounds of singing that wafted from her classroom. Other teachers would ask her to provide them with the music for her creations but she had no idea how to do so. She was untrained in the intricacies of composing but she had the ability to note even the tiniest change in the sounds that comprised the lovely arrangements of the musicians that she admired. Thus her choral direction lead her students to perform as beautifully as the Vienna Boys Choir.

Mama had a lovely alto voice and she knew the words to hundreds of songs. She and my father shared a love of music but he tended to favor only classical pieces whereas she was up to speed with all of the latest pop tunes as well. She rocked to the sounds of The Rolling Stones with as much enthusiasm as to the symphonies of Beethoven. She almost seemed to feel the music in some extraordinary way that traveled all the way through her body down to her feet. In addition to having a sixth sense about how to put voices together in perfect harmony she was an exceptional dancer who seemed to literally float above the floor when she performed her routines. When people complimented her grace and style and wondered where she had learned such skills she admitted that she was self trained. She carefully watched the best dancers of her era and imitated their moves.

My brothers and I liked to entertain ourselves and our neighborhood friends by putting on shows in the summertime. Our mother was our choreographer, teaching us how to tap dance in unison with our singing. As a vocal coach she designed intricate harmonies for us so that our performances seemed almost professional. While we loved the limelight when the audience of friends whooped and hollered in appreciation for our efforts what was most fun were the rehearsals with our mom. We were in awe of her ability to create such lovely renditions of the songs that we so loved. She made our little efforts seem so important and all of us recall those times with her with such joy.

Eventually we grew up and began families of our own. All of us had a definite love of music that felt as natural as the traits caused by our DNA. One brother tended toward my father’s way of thinking and preferred mostly classical pieces but he has a particular passion for popular female singers as well. The other brother went all the way with country songs, even developing a wonderful talent for two stepping in time with the tunes. My own interests in music run the gamut and I find myself discovering and enjoying new genres and artists even to this day.

When my children were young I encouraged them to appreciate music and dance as much as my mother did but I also went out of my way to provide them with formal lessons to help them along. I didn’t seem to have the talents that my mother did so I was of little use in providing them with guidance at home with one exception. Each Christmas I showed them how to sing White Christmas in four part harmony with me and my husband Mike. It worked out well because each of us had a different singing range. Mike took the baritone part, our eldest daughter was the alto, I did a low soprano and the youngest had a knack for hitting the high notes. We would sing our way to all of the Christmas Eve and Christmas day events with Bing Crosby crooning in the background. It became a tradition and for a time we were certain that if a talent scout were to hear our enchanting sounds we would immediately become super stars. Mostly though it was a fun time that bonded us with laughter and glee. It became as much a part of our holiday routine as finding oranges and nuts in our stockings. Somehow our rendition was especially spectacular in those years when the weather was rather frightful. It had the power to warm our hearts.

My grandchildren have all learned to play instruments and read music. They are quite good and appear to have a bit of the innate talent that my mother displayed. Jack has mastered the piano, guitar and French horn in addition to singing in musicals. Ian plays the cello like an angel. Eli took up the oboe like his mother did when she was his age and emits a sweet and haunting tone. Andrew did quite well with tenor saxophone but set it aside to study engineering. Abigail has an angelic voice but most enjoys creating lovely sounds with the clarinet. Ben plays the tuba with gusto and William makes the violin sing. They all have enjoyed the advantage of having well trained teachers to develop their talents and take them to ever more complex levels for learning the intricacies of music.

There is still something quite charming about the simple ditties that my brothers and I sang with the help of our mom. It was homespun fun of the kind that our ancestors probably enjoyed long ago when entertainment was beholden to imagination. After long days of work families were lucky to have anything more than the creativity that lived inside their heads to pass away the hours. The folk songs and handmade instruments that kept time with the tunes were all that they had and yet somehow in all cultures there were those who seemed to naturally understand how to use what they had to make music. Song and dance are part of our make up as human beings. It is something that we are drawn to do and enjoy.

These days my family choir has been reduced to just me and Mike. We still like to sing along with Bing and recall those times with our girls. It’s funny how we can’t remember all of the gifts that we have received for Christmas over the years but we do enjoy the fondest memories of our family choir. My brothers and I feel the same way about those show tunes and dances that we learned from our mother. They are bright spots in our minds that are more precious than possessions. There is something quite heartwarming about the simplicity of shared experiences that make us laugh and love together. Somehow they always seem to matter the most. 

  

Lessons From The Gang

ourgang4_xlargeBack when I was a child most of the local television stations filled the programming hours in the afternoon with old black and white movies usually of the B variety. I never saw many A listers in those films but some of them were surprisingly good and memorable. I grew to have a particular affection for the short Our Gang flicks featuring an adorably talented group of children known as The Little Rascals. I didn’t realize back then that the beloved characters and stories that I watched so eagerly were filmed back in the 1920’s and 30’s. Those kids were long grown up by the time that I was laughing at their antics. They represented life during very hard times for the world and overriding all of their mischief there was always a moral for how to live life to the fullest. Their tales and the lessons they taught were universal enough to the human experience that I still think about how much they influenced me.

For some reason one of the episodes of that long ago time has stuck in my mind throughout my lifetime. It featured a family of children trying desperately to find an extraordinary gift for their mother. The little ones did odd jobs to earn money but even when they put all of their savings together they were still shy of having enough to purchase the kinds of presents that they so desperately wanted to give her. Their prayers appeared to be answered when they encountered a big sale at their local department store. Even though there were limited styles and sizes being offered at the low prices they managed to find an entire outfit of clothing for their mom, including a hat and shoes. It was with great fanfare and joy that they presented their gift of love to her.

The final scene shows the elated mother walking proudly down the street ignoring the gaping stares and whispers as she greets her friends and neighbors with her head held high. The dress from her little ones is quite obviously several sizes too large and hangs dangerously from her shoulders ready to drop to the ground if she does not walk very carefully. The shoes are little better and the hat is quite ridiculous. Still the pride with which she carries herself and the smile on her face insures her children that she is enchanted by the outfit that they worked so hard to buy her. Her selflessness and gratitude radiates and the smiles on the kids’ faces tell a story all its own.

In this season of giving we have at times become all too expectant in our wants and desires. Madison Avenue has somehow convinced us that this should be a time for receiving a new car or very expensive jewelry or electronics. The spaces underneath our Christmas trees are often crammed with gifts that may or may not satisfy us or those to whom we give our offerings. Most of us would be unlikely to demonstrate the kind of appreciation for a misfit gift that the mom in that old production showed to her children. Instead of simply enjoying the thoughts behind the many gifts that we receive we all too often obsess over whatever may have been lacking.

My mother loved visiting friends and family at Christmastime. It was quite fun going from one house to another and viewing the Christmas decorations and presents under the trees. One lady that Mama knew always received professionally wrapped gifts from her husband. They were so lovely that I would have had a difficult time tearing the paper and bows apart to find out what was inside. There always seemed to be mountains of boxes just for her. I remember thinking how wonderful it would be if my widowed mom had someone to be so extravagant and thoughtful to her. She had to be satisfied with the small homemade things that my brothers and I gave her but her friend seemed to be feted like a queen. Ironically instead of being happy she complained every single year about how she would no doubt have to take everything back because her man had such poor taste. She insisted that it was a trial for her to even think of opening the presents because she was convinced that she would dislike them all. Somehow it never occurred to her how hard he was trying to please her. The attitude that she proclaimed seemed so wrong to me and I wanted to fuss at her but I was just a child and such lectures would have been wrong. Instead I told myself that I would never ever be so selfish.

A gift is far more than just the item inside a package. It is an outward sign that someone cares and has taken the time and the resources to show love. Regardless of how small, a present should never be taken for granted. Instead we should treasure the idea behind the offering. Someone in the busyness of the day has thought to make us happy. If we consider how powerful such an act is then we realize that it really is the thought that counts. 

My father read so many fairytales to me but the one that seemed to resonate the most was about a fisherman who caught a magic flounder. He was granted a wish if he agreed to throw the hapless fish back into the water. Knowing that his wife was saddened by the deplorable condition of the shanty in which they lived he asked that he receive a nice little home. When he returned from work that evening his wife was beaming as she emerged from a small but tidy cabin. When he told her how the miracle had come to pass she frowned and upbraided him for making such a small request. Instead of being satisfied by her improved condition she longed for more.

As luck would have it the fisherman once again caught the magical creature who offered yet another wish. This time he was more specific in requesting a mansion with lots of money to match the splendor of the house. By this time his wife was on to the game and she met him at the door railing that he still had not requested enough. She fretted that he might have done so much better and became ever more unhappy even in the midst of splendor. Of course as the tale proceeds the fisherman catches the fish again and again asking for more and more audacious gifts with each new opportunity. In the end the flounder decides to give the man what he needs rather than what he thinks he should have. The hapless fisherman returns home to find his wife standing in front of the shanty that had originally been their home.

In this season we would all do well to keep our desires within reason and teach our children to do the same. Learning how to appreciate the blessings that we have is crucial to finding the happiness that we all seek. The baby for whom the holiday was named was not a king or a man of power but a humble soul. We would all do well to follow His example and to remember the moral of the story of mankind that is repeated over and over again. It is in giving that we truly receive. It is in loving that we find the greatest joy.      

We the Women

img_1698A reporter from a local newspaper visited the Texas state robotics championship last Saturday and happened upon a group of middle school girls who were checking the equipment just before putting the robot through its paces in their round. The newswoman began talking with them and learned that one of them had been part of the primary design and engineering team, another had helped to author the Process Engineering Notebook and others had performed various tasks in marketing and driving all of which led to a second place finish in an earlier regional competition. She was fascinated to see so many females working with such precision and confidence and decided to feature them in an article. These young ladies are among the many who are blazing new trails in a world that places fewer and fewer limits on individuals because of their sex.

Women are forging ahead with abandon these days. America’s universities now enroll more females than males on a regular basis. Women are assuming leadership positions in virtually every walk of life. While there is some disappointment that we do not yet have a woman President of the United States, I am confident that it will happen before long. Glass ceilings are shattering everywhere.

There was a time when young girls were treated as though they were somehow unworthy of higher education or even an opportunity to learn the basics. Neither of my grandmothers had enough schooling to even know how to read. In just a few decades the trend of keeping the girls at home to take care of the cleaning, the cooking and the children no longer happens in the families of their descendants. One of the young ladies that I mentioned above is their great great granddaughter. She can’t even comprehend being held back like they were. I suspect that my grandmothers would be quite proud of her accomplishments and her confidence. She has no doubt that she will be able to achieve whatever she wishes. Her only problem at this point is in deciding which of many different talents she will ultimately use.

I was among the first generation of women who began working outside of the home en masse. I chose a traditional career as a mathematics teacher chiefly because I enjoy working with people. I had little desire to be an engineer or work with numbers in a more solitary environment. Teaching tapped into my social and creative talents and made me happy which is what I believe should be the case for everyone in determining a career. I was free to choose my own destiny and it felt freeing and natural.

My sister-in-law became a highly respected engineer and was in the highest levels of management by the time that she finally retired. She worked for a NASA contractor and played a big part in working with Russia and the International Space Station. She says that she rarely encountered any forms of sexism. She was highly respected for the excellence of her work. All that her coworkers and bosses wanted from her was competence and she had an abundance of that. Like me she enjoyed her work and only reluctantly left for a quieter life spending time with her grandchildren and traveling around the world.

Me and my peers literally blazed trails in one occupation after another until it became commonplace for mayors, police officers, CEOs and scientists to be women. We smashed the traditions of long ago when females often had to work in the background in certain fields. History is replete with stories and questions about how much women may have contributed to the genius of men like Galileo, Shakespeare and Einstein but we will never know the full truth because they had to work in the shadows. It was rare for the female half of society to venture outside of the home in most cases and almost unheard of for them to be consulted for their points of view.

We hear of trendsetters like Abigail Adams who was well read and had definite opinions about how things should have been. She did her best to get husband John to remember the women when drawing up the Constitution. Much to her dismay all thought of giving women the vote was dismissed and it took far too long for our ancestors to finally be given a right that should have been theirs from the beginning. With determination and courage brave souls worked until it finally happened about the time that my grandmothers were coming of age.

The days of pushing women aside are long gone. Within my family the female descendants of those grandmothers are doing extraordinarily well. There are accountants, Ph.D.s, a medical doctor, nurses, teachers, school administrators, artists, communications specialists, managers, social workers, championship golfers, and a group of up and coming little girls who promise to set the world on fire. There seem to be no limits to what we are willing to try, including climbing mountains, writing books and making movies. We simply don’t hesitate to make our dreams reality.

I attend the graduations of any former students who invite me to their commencements. If I were making tick marks to keep track of how many women and how many men are earning college degrees, the ladies would be far ahead. They are working hard and making names for themselves in law, scientific research, medicine, education, business, public health, psychology and a host of incredible careers. They have no fear when it comes to educating themselves and moving forward at a rapid pace. They leave me breathless with their accomplishments.

I presently wear a nail polish called “We the Women.” I find it fitting to do so since I have spent my life encouraging both young men and women to follow their dreams and never look back. I like to believe that I have played a small role in encouraging the young women that I have known to be courageous in deciding their own fates. There is no stopping them any longer. They are ready to accept all of the challenges of a future that looks quite bright for them. It’s going to be fun to sit back and watch them roar.

Where Are The Heroes?

john-glenn-6.jpgIt was 1962, and I was in the final semester of eighth grade. When we walked into Mrs. Colby’s science class she had a television perched on top of a tall cart. It’s black and white picture was tuned to one of the three major broadcasting stations. She quickly explained that we were going to have the privilege of seeing history unfold. We were to watch the first man who would orbit the earth, John Glenn. I felt breathlessly excited. My city of Houston was the site of NASA’s Manned Spacecraft Center, a place where the seven original astronauts lived and trained. I knew that I was witnessing something incredible that I would never forget.

John Glenn was encapsulated in a bell shaped vehicle called Liberty 7. He would circle the earth while in space. He had been told of the potential danger of such a feat. The entire world watched nervously as he orbited once, twice, three times. He was to have made seven passes but there was a fear that his capsule was heating up and that he might not make it back alive if the journey continued. He reentered the earth’s atmosphere landing in the ocean and was rescued by crew members of an awaiting ship. When he emerged from his spacecraft he seemed larger than life, a hero for the ages. He would become an iconic American figure and one of my all time favorite people.

John Glenn was a midwesterner through and through. He was born in Ohio in 1921, and proved to be an exemplary student and adventurous spirit. He attended Ohio State University, leaving when World War II broke out. He joined the Marines and became a fighter pilot whose wingman, Ted Williams, would ultimately be one of the best baseball players in the country. He later married his high school sweetheart and decided to follow a career in the military. He became one of the most daring aviators of his era and it only seemed natural to recruit him for the first astronaut corps. He competed with hundreds of applicants to become one of the elite seven who had the right stuff. After his history making flight in 1962, he was one of the most famous and highly regarded of the astronauts and his name would be forever linked with those pioneering days that so inspired me when I was still a very young girl.

John Glenn had retired from the military by 1965. He became a successful businessman and eventually a respected Senator from Ohio. At one point he was even considered as a possible running mate for Jimmy Carter. He made one final foray into space with the intent of determining what the effect of space travel might be on the elderly. He was physically fit and still flew his own plane until 2013. An amazing man even as he entered his ninth decade, he died last week at the age of ninety five.

John Glenn was a true American legend. He was courageous and loyal, dedicated and ethical. In many ways he represented an idealized version of what we hope all Americans to be. He certainly had his imperfections but he strove to overcome them again and again. He was ever faithful to his profession and his family. He showed all of us how to take important risks for the sake of of humanity. There was nothing insignificant about the way that he chose to live his life.

The early years of America’s exploration of space inspired my entire generation. We saw the beginnings of a rapidly changing way of doing things and embraced the future. We had dashing heroes like Glenn and our young President Kennedy. It seemed as though there was nothing that we could not accomplish if only we set our sights on our goals. Ours was known as the golden age of education in America. We were led by teachers like Mrs. Colby who introduced us to the exciting possibilities that lay ahead. She and other educators would open our minds and fill them with new ideas. Learning was an exciting prospect in our brave new world.

We had little idea then of the turmoil that would follow our euphoria. One of the original seven astronauts, Gus Grissom, would die inside his space capsule. John Kennedy would be assassinated. Many of my contemporaries would be sent to a winless war in Vietnam. The world would explode with anger and violence and it would seem as though we were on the verge of apocalypse. Instead of the fantastical world of our imaginations we would face bitter realities that tested our endurance. It would be memories of heroes like John Glenn that would inspire us to do the right thing and be unafraid.

The world unfolded in the most remarkable ways with much of the inventiveness that we now take for granted tracing its roots back to those early days of space explorations. The laptop computer on which I type my blogs is more powerful than the ones used to track John Glenn’s progress around the world. We have robots in our homes and phones that we carry in our purses that connect us to any place on the globe. Private companies now carry people into space and for the most part the journeys are far more safe than ever. We have lost our sense of awe for the accomplishments of our scientists, researchers, and astronauts. They have become commonplace in our eyes. There are no doubt young people who wonder why we care so much about an old astronaut who died. They simply do not understand the breathtaking nature of his feats in those early days when we made our first ventures into the unknown landscape of space.

I often wonder who will have the right stuff to lead us into the future. Who will be the teachers exciting a new generation of students by introducing them to people and ideas that will inspire them? From where will the heroes come and how will they show us the best of ourselves. What inventions will young scientists bring to us? How will the world change before our very eyes? These are questions to consider because there are still young men and women dreaming like I did back in Mrs. Colby’s class. They will be the leaders, the builders, the innovators. One day we will be celebrating them just as we did John Glenn.

John Glenn is gone but he will never be forgotten. His was a life well lived. May he rest in peace.