Category: Education

Sticks and Stones

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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The English language has the power of being beautifully expressive, poetic. At the same time it can be curt, crass, hurtful. Changing the order of words or punctuation sometimes drastically alters the meaning of a sentence. When phrases are uttered nuances in intonation transform them into vocal images. Throughout history there have been individuals with astonishing capabilities for using words to clarify, inspire, affect. These have been the authors, poets, teachers, speakers who have used their facility with language as art, education, and political persuasion. The best among them leave legacies that are studied and revered from age to age. The variety and elegance of language makes it an instrument of profound possibilities. Unfortunately when words are in the hands of someone who does not know how to use them as they were intended they become vehicles of confusion and even hurt.

I have a major in English, but became a mathematics teacher. I believe that my adequate abilities in connection with my native language helped me to explain and demystify concepts using words that my students were able to understand. I consider my facility with expression to be well suited for most of the tasks in which we must convey our thoughts. Nonetheless there have been multiple occasions in which what I was attempting to communicate was totally misunderstood. This generally happened when I was addressing a large group or in those moments when I chose to write down my ideas. Without body language, facial expressions, and opportunities for clarification it is more likely than not that confusion will occur. Because I realize that such possibilities exist I try to carefully analyze and measure my words before making them public so that I will not damage feelings or foment anger. In spite of my efforts I am almost certain that the sentences that I craft may not always be taken in the ways that I intended, and so I do not ever feel personally attacked if a reader or listener finds fault.

A source of great pride for my mother was that she was masterful with the English language. I suppose that it stemmed from the fact that her parents were immigrants whose facility with English was either lacking or nonexistent. Her father demanded that she and her siblings speak in the national tongue and develop comfort with it. By the time she was in high school she was lauded by her teachers for having an imposing command of vocabulary, grammar, usage and punctuation. She had the eye of an editor and the ear of a college professor when it came to finding mistakes in sentence construction, spelling and pronunciation. I suppose that she passed this affinity for language down to me and my brothers because I never found it difficult to write and speak properly. I’d already had one of the best instructors at home.

We are accustomed to witnessing a certain level of refinement in both the orations and essays of our presidents. Thomas Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence is remarkable in its brilliance and the brevity with which it illuminates the rights of mankind. Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address is both moving and inspiring. We still quote John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan’s speech to the nation after the Challenger explosion was exactly the message that we needed to hear.  So it is with a certain level of consternation that we realize that President Donald Trump struggles with expressing himself in a coherent and intelligent manner. As long as he is reading a prepared document he is fine, but as soon as he is speaking off the cuff his deficiencies become all to apparent.

If I were attempting to help President Trump to improve his writing and speaking abilities I would first address his lack of an extensive vocabulary. We all overuse certain words and phrases but his limited stable of words is dramatic. He struggles to move beyond descriptors such as “big, biggly, huge, fantastic, really good, the best” and so on. His statements lose impact because he is so often at a loss for more edifying vocabulary.

The other problem that is perhaps the president’s major flaw is that he does not elaborate enough to clarify his remarks. He leaves so many ideas to be inferred that the imagination goes to notions that he probably never intended. Because of my background as a teacher I often find myself filling in the blanks of his utterances. I translate what he has actually said into what I believe that he has said. I suspect that I’m rather good at doing that because even when he is misunderstood and has to back track to explain himself I have usually been correct in my original assessment. The trouble is that not everyone takes the time to give President Trump the benefit of the doubt by attempting to discern what he may have meant, and so he finds himself causing a stir again and again. Usually he becomes so frustrated that he eventually hurls insults at those who have questioned him and his good intentions blow up in his face.

Another terrible habit that the president has is exaggeration. It goes to those favorite words of his and speaks loudly of his personality. He has to win, be the best, come out on top. Every oration becomes a power play reminding me of the child in the classroom who needs constant attention and adulation. Because President Trump demands to be the center of the universe he will even resort to lies at times just to appear to be more grandiose. I don’t understand how he thinks that we won’t recall what he has said in the heat of the moment. Like a child boasting on the playground he will resort to insult  if necessary just to be in control of the discussion. He uses words like weapons rather than healing agents. His art of the deal always seems to come down to an insistence on a “my way or the highway” kind of negotiation.

While some may find his ways of expressing himself refreshingly honest I see his mauling of language as an embarrassment. He is in such a powerful position that every word matters, and as of now he appears to be making far more enemies than friends. It may take years for the nation to recover from the trauma that he dispenses on a daily basis. Most of the damage he is inflicting need not happen if only he were to develop a more diplomatic tone, especially when attempting to comfort a Gold Star widow or when dealing with an allied nation.  He really does need to forget the chip on his shoulder and remember that none of what he does is about him. It should instead be about addressing all of us in a more honorable and selfless tone.

I wasn’t born yesterday. I know when someone is pressuring me to accept his/her point of view. Sadly each time President Trump speaks I feel as though I am in the presence of someone who is desperately attempting to sell me a bill of goods. My brain almost instantly turns off when he becomes abusive or combative. What he says does not touch either my heart or my head and yet I have suspected for some time that somewhere inside the mangled thoughts that he professes there is actually a very good heart. I have seen flashes of his compassion and desire to please us, but until he sets aside his own needs for those of the country he will continue to stir controversy over utterances and tweets rather than actually getting things done. He somehow doesn’t realize or just doesn’t care that some of us want him to be successful, but simply can’t abide by the vindictive sound of his interactions with those with whom he does not agree.

I know that my advice to our president will fall on deaf ears. He is who he is, but I think he might be better. Other men and women have risen to the challenges of their moments in history and guided people with eloquence. Winston Churchill comes to mind when I think of someone who changed himself and saved a nation. His words became a buttress against tyrants. He momentarily set aside his own needs to become the voice of freedom and steadiness in a world gone mad. How I wish that President Trump would take a page from Churchill’s life and use his words to inspire rather than hurt. I don’t suppose that I will ever see that, but I can wish.

Imperfectly Perfect

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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My husband had a saying that he often used whenever one of our children was struggling in some capacity, particularly at times when they had really made some major mistakes that appeared to be threatening their futures. He would invariably tell them, “You can’t be a failure at age (insert some number here)…” His wisdom became a kind of family mantra because no matter how old our girls became he would dust them off after they had mucked up plans and remind them that they were far too young to believe that they were irretrievably doomed because of questionable choices. As the digits marking their ages changed and grew into ever larger indicators of life on this earth he reminded them again and again that they still had opportunities to recover from decisions and actions that had not worked out so well. When one of them finally asked him to define the age at which it really was possible to be deemed a failure he winked and said that would probably be the day after never. In other words there is always a new moment for finding success, a time when the sun rises and we have the possibility of setting our courses aright once again.

We all have dreams. Sometimes through little fault of our own those visions change or even become impossible. Beating ourselves up because we finally realize that something in our lives that once seemed to be a holy grail is in reality a source of grave unhappiness is a form of personal self abuse. We should never feel trapped in a situation that quite simply isn’t working out as we had once expected. We’ve all been to beautiful weddings that were dripping with love and good intentions only to hear a few years later that the couple is getting a divorce. We have witnessed young students choosing college majors at the age of eighteen that seemed so right at the time, but developed into living nightmares along the way. We know of individuals who became so stressed by what they saw as their floundering lives that they turned to alcohol or drugs to mask their pain. Many of the social crises that we see in today’s world stem from honest mistakes that have grown so big in an individual’s mind that there appears to be no way out without shame and sorrow. In our embarrassment we withdraw deeper and deeper into ourselves and shun truths that are staring us in our faces.

I’ll admit that we are often a harsh and judgmental society that likes winners and tosses those we deem to be losers aside, but we still love a good story of salvaging a life gone astray. We admire the people able to stand up and redirect their futures. The phoenix is still a potent symbol for the act of rising from the ashes. We love Robert Downey Jr. because he managed to overcome life threatening addictions and reemerge as a popular and compassionate cultural icon. We adore President Jimmy Carter for openly admitting to his personal flaws and forgiving those who have trespassed against him. Each of us knows countless individuals who stumbled and fell only to eventually succeed beyond their wildest imaginations. Most of the time all we need do is gaze in the mirror to see such a person.

It is in our natures as humans to make mistakes, and so more often than not life becomes a serpentine journey filled with pitfalls, potholes and poor choices. It is actually quite rare to find someone whose entire existence has been fault free. Few roads are straight and narrow. Even St. Mother Teresa had moments of darkness in which she questioned her very faith in God and humanity. The key to her sanctity was not in living a trouble free existence but in being able to forgive both herself and the rest of mankind for being imperfect.

I am a great fan of the television program This Is Us. The writers have tapped into the realization that each of us is imperfectly perfect. We spend most of our lifetimes chasing after ideals rather than happiness. It often takes us a long long time to understand that all we need to feel really good is to accept ourselves with our warts and all, to realize that every person is wonderful and beautiful. Once we are able to be the individual that we believe we were meant to be the good feelings that we have inside spill over into everyone that we meet. Our confidence and abilities grow and grow and we become ever stronger and better versions of ourselves. Doing this takes forgiveness and a willingness to avoid the tendency of thinking that our inevitable mistakes have made us failures.

Of course we have to live amongst other people, many of whom have been so abused either by others or by themselves that they project their own feelings of inadequacy on us. We sometimes fall into the trap of believing them when they tell us that we are at fault or that we are somehow unworthy. They want us to be as miserable as they are, but we never have to loathe ourselves or stay in their orbits. It is not just okay but actually necessary that we leave such situations behind no matter how painful the extrication may be. Mostly we must remember that other people’s transgressions are not our own no matter how many times they attempt to blame us for their misery. One of the most difficult situations that we will ever encounter is the realization that we cannot save everyone that we meet, and that evil exists. The key is to leave behind relationships that hurt and demoralize without feeling that we have somehow failed.

As we journey through our lives we will falter again and again. Bad days will turn in excruciating weeks. Instead of beating ourselves up we only need to step back just long enough to chart a new course. We must learn how to ally ourselves with people who support us when we make hard but wise choices and don’t abandon us when we manage to muck things up.

We have a dearth of role models these days. We have a president who is prone to blaming everyone but himself for his troubles. We have watched a candidate for that same presidency fumble to find the answers as to why she failed to land the prize. Both of them are loathe to look inside their souls where the truth most certainly lies. They are unwilling to admit that they perhaps don’t possess all of the answers. They are as flawed as any of us, imperfectly perfect. Both are searching for confirmation of their worth in all the wrong places when what they need is the simple admission that they have sometimes been wrong. Those who learn to admit their flaws and love themselves nonetheless literally glow from the experience. It is a truly freeing experience.

The moral of the story is that we can’t be failures at any age as long as we keep trying. The reality is that there will be thousands upon thousands of “tries” in each life. We all must learn how to get back up again after our falls. It is one of the most important lessons that ever need to know. Once we grasp it everything changes. We know that we will encounter countless challenges along the road and we won’t always deal with them in the best possible ways. We will make messes. It is what we do. The key to the happiness we seek is to just keep moving no matter how many times we find ourselves climbing out of a pit once again. Soon enough each of us will a way to be imperfectly perfect.

The Horrors of War

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

WWII U.S. INVASION LEYTE ISLAND

I’m a believer in the idea that learning should never end. I try to keep an open mind and gain new knowledge on a continuous basis. One of my favorite pastimes is attending continuing education courses at Rice University. This semester I allowed my husband Mike to choose the class that we would attend since he recently had a stroke and our social life has been somewhat restricted for the past three months. We haven’t been able to go on camping trips, and we had to forego our plans to travel to Colorado and Wyoming to view the total eclipse. I’ve tried to fill our time with local attractions and the Rice classes seemed to be just the ticket for us. Imagine my surprise when Mike decided that we needed to enroll in an offering that would address the war in the Pacific with Japan.

I have to admit that I was quietly disappointed that we would spend eight weeks gaining information on battles that had never been of much interest to me. Much like most people I had focused on the European theater of World War II rather than those fought on faraway islands and continents of which I knew very little. Since my main purpose was to keep Mike active, I nonetheless quietly agreed to sign on. I’ve been surprised at how interesting this course has turned out to be.

War is hell in any situation, but the one fought in the Pacific was particularly so. After the attack on Pearl Harbor the United States was in a tizzy. The nation had initially ignored the conflict raging in Europe and on the mainland of China and in the Pacific regions. Citizens tended to believe that that our best choice would be to remain neutral and isolated. The Japanese forced the issue with their attack and our situation was further exacerbated when Germany declared war on the United States. Whether we wanted involvement or not we were suddenly up to our necks in a need to react, and we were hardly ready for what lay ahead, especially in our early encounters with Japan.

We had a military primarily composed of officers who had fought in World War I. Our troops had to be hastily trained for an environment which most had never encountered. We were initially outmanned and outmaneuvered. The places where battles were fought were often tropical hell holes where disease created more casualties than warfare. Our soldiers battled malaria and dinghy fever in addition to Japanese soldiers willing to fight to the death for their emperor and their country. Our first forays were most often unsuccessful and peppered with defeat. It must have been truly horrifying to families far away in little towns in the center of the United Sates to try to understand what their sons and husbands and brothers were doing in those places that were so unknown to them.

Viewing a map of the Pacific during that time has helped me to understand what Japan was attempting to accomplish as well as illuminating the fear that must have been quite intense in places like the Philippines, Hawaii, Guam, Alaska and the westernmost coastal states. I had often wondered why one of my uncles had been stationed in Alaska and now I know. I had heard of some of the terrible battles in the Pacific and had not understood their purpose, but now I do. Mostly I have a visceral sense of what had no doubt been the fears of people around the world during that era.

My mom often spoke of a man with whom she had been engaged before she met my father. She had loved him very much and she recalled her fears when he was sent to fight in the Pacific. He was killed in a battle on Saipan. It was apparent from the faraway look that she would get in her eyes that she never quite got over losing him. She often told me that nobody who was not alive at the time would ever be able to imagine the emotions that they had. It seemed as though everyone knew somebody who had died and virtually all of the young men had enlisted and were gone. It was a time of great struggle and sacrifice and uncertainty. It didn’t help when news arrived of the death of a loved one.

The Japanese were particularly fierce fighters in the tradition of the Samurai soldiers. They had already been battle tested before the United States entered the fray. They had planned to overtake a ring of fortifications in the Pacific to insure their dominance of the region. Their planes and their naval fleet were far better suited for the forays than ours initially were. But for a few tactical errors in the beginnings of the war they might of ended the conflict quickly. Luckily we had enough time to adapt to the conditions and ultimately learn how to fight in such foreign environments. We developed medications for our troops and improved the logistics for delivering supplies and reinforcements. Nonetheless the young men who were sent over there had to exist in the most horrific of situations. It is a wonder that they survived and eventually became victorious.

The lecturer delivering this series is a military man who was living with his parents in the Philippines when that country was invaded by the Japanese. As a child he was a prisoner of war. He eventually became a military historian and teacher at West Point. He saw much of what was happening in the Pacific up close and early on learned the importance of the Pacific and the intricacies of its many islands and territories. I suspect that the tensions of that time have only slightly eased as the modern day countries vie to protect their borders. A look at a map of the area vividly demonstrates the potential for dominance by a tyrant nation. It is in the interest of the entire world to keep the peace, because without it many would most certainly be in danger.

I knew men who fought in World War II and I mostly took their heroism and sacrifice for granted. It never really registered to me how horrible it must have been for my mother’s fiancee when he battled with a the Japanese in Saipan. In hearing the descriptions of such melees I have come to realize just how terrible they were. My interest in knowing more is now heightened. I don’t suppose that I will watch movies like Unbroken or Hacksaw Ridge with quite the same detachment again.

I don’t think that any of us take enough time to really learn about the intricacies of the battlefield. We tend to see such incidents as having little to do with our own existences. Perhaps if we were willing to face the horrors of the details we might be more inclined to find ways of bridging our differences rather than resorting to the violence of war. Through this class I have come to realize what it may have meant to be fighting for months just to hold onto a significant patch of ground that appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. I have learned of the continual bombardments and the illnesses that fettered the attempts to protect places that may not have seemed particularly important, but were in fact key to turning back the aggressions of the enemy. I have to applaud the American people who stayed the course even when it appeared to be futile and gave of the treasure of their young men’s lives in a cause that did not always make sense.

I hate war in all of its forms but this class has shown me that sometimes we have no other course of action than to defend ourselves and our allies. For whatever reasons tyrants and those intent on evil seem to rise up again and again. Luckily we have heroes who push them back. It’s important that we learn as much about what they have done so that we might always honor them for their service.

Satisfaction

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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Last year my high school Class of 1966 had its fiftieth reunion. It was fun seeing people who had dropped out of my life for so long. Since then I’ve tried to stay in touch with many of them via Facebook and the occasional lunches and such that our class leaders schedule. I’ve attended a few funerals as well where I have encountered the most faithful among us. Mostly those sad occasions have been for the parents of my school pals, but now and again we gather for one of our own. I have written blogs about many of those people in an effort to honor their memories and to thank them for the impact they had on my life. It’s particularly sad to see peers losing battles with disease. It is a reminder that all of us are headed in one direction, so we need to be certain that we are getting the most out of life while we have the opportunity.

Last week we received notification that yet another among us is now gone. Harry Butler did not attend our reunion which was rather in keeping with his general personality, but I often thought of him even though I never saw him again after our graduation day. Harry was in the same honors class in which I was. Since the school chose to send us from class to class as a group we were rather constant companions for four years, but I still didn’t know him as well as some of the others. Nonetheless I was fascinated with Harry because he was one of those individuals who insisted on marching to his own drumbeat. There was always something quite interesting about him. I always believed that he would have an exciting life.

It did not take long for all of us to realize that Harry was a gifted writer with an imagination and wit that was intriguing. As someone who longed to be a journalist or a story teller I watched Harry with great interest because I believed that I would learn much from him. It became sadly apparent to me that I would never be able to equal his talent. He had a way with words that set him apart from those of us who labored away at composing. He was an artist who painted stunning pictures with his sentences and paragraphs. He was able to make us all howl with uncontrollable laughter with his essays and newspaper articles. When he created much of the script for our annual Junior/Senior banquet one year the whole class saw how remarkable he truly was.

Harry went to St. Thomas University in Houston, Texas after graduation form high school and majored in English. I lost track of him except through friends who would encounter him from time to time. I learned that he eventually went to Los Angeles to try his hand at screenwriting. I heard rumors that he had actually done well out there and I often found myself scanning film and television credits to see if his name popped up. I really did expect to see him at an awards ceremony one day because I felt that he was that good at his craft. Of course I never saw such a thing but I never really forgot about him. When I traveled to that part of the country I found myself wondering where he lived and how he was doing. I tried to imagine whether or not he had worked with famous people and what scripts he may have created.

I learned from his obituary that he had been sick since January of this year. He had developed an infection of unknown origin that caused an embolism in his brain. This is how he died and it made me so very sad because he possessed a truly remarkable brain. I hoped and prayed that his final days and weeks had not been too painful and that he had been able to read the books that he always enjoyed and listen to the music that enchanted him.

Harry’s father had been a record distributor when we were in high school. Because of that Harry always seemed to have advance knowledge of what new music would be coming our way. He enjoyed regaling us with his insider information and I delighted in being privy to it.. Harry was a character in every sense of the word and his musical insights only added to an air of mystery that always seemed to surround him.

Harry was an exceptional debater, another talent of which I was a tiny bit jealous because Lord knows that I tried so very hard to master that skill. No matter how hard I worked at it I was unable to come close to being as exceptional as he was. Harry was quite simply one of those people who thought on his feet and was able to come up with just the right retorts at just the right moments. He and his debate partner and friend had quite a run as superstars. I often thought that he might become a lawyer but I suspect that such a career was just a bit too tame for him. Harry was out of the ordinary and we all seemed to sense that.

I learned that Harry spent his work life in Los Angeles but returned to Texas after he retired. He chose to settle in Galveston where he loved reading and listening to music. He brought a former ballerina with them and the two of them enjoyed a quiet life near the sea. Even in his final days Harry managed to seem a bit exotic and to have done things on his own terms.

It’s amazing how we never quite forget the people with whom we spend our teenage years. I regret that I never really got to know Harry just a bit better or to tell him how much I admired him. I suspect that I was too much in awe of his remarkable talent in areas in which I so wanted to succeed in my own right. It was as though I saw myself as little more than a hack whenever I compared my abilities with his. Eventually I found the confidence that I had lacked back then and realized that Harry and I had very different styles. I became content to have watched him from afar and to know that maybe just maybe he had found some magic out in Hollywood. At least I certainly hope that is true. I’d like to believe that he lived the kind of life of which he had dreamed so long ago.

Harry’s death signals the passing of another extraordinary member of our class. I feel confident that he is now resting in peace with the angels and cracking them up with his razor sharp sense of humor just as he shared his gift with us so long ago. I remember a time when he proclaimed that the Rolling Stones were the best rock group ever. I argued with him at the time and lost of course, but I always thought of him over the years as that group became my favorite as well. Upon hearing of his death I heard the strains of Satisfaction in my brain and thought of his grin and sarcastic humor that always made us laugh. Thank you, Harry, for some really good times.

Glorious Lives

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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The most remarkable people in history have always been those who based their lives on principles. In the pursuit of integrity, generosity, courage they often found themselves standing all alone, but in the end they found success not so much because they were honored by others, but because they honored the ideas that existed in their hearts. Men and women like Abraham Lincoln, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Gandhi, and Mother Teresa were guided by the overwhelming belief that what they were doing was right and just. The focus of their lives was not easy or popular but they persisted in following the voice that whispered inside their souls.

It often appears difficult to find such imminent people in today’s world in which most people find comfort and shelter in joining a crowd. So many fear speaking out lest they lose their power or positions. They base their actions on polls and contests of purported admiration. They so want to be liked that they set aside the very essence of who they are for the fleeting elixir of feeling loved or appreciated. It’s difficult for us to teach our children of the dangers of such behavior when the messages and examples they see tell them that winning is more important than living for a set of values. How can we show them how to be moral when they see so much immorality being accepted in the name of seizing power? It is not so easy in a world that rewards winning and turns its back on those perceived as losers. Life becomes a constant game of striving to be number one, and unfortunately as adults we consciously or unconsciously tell our young again and again that there is no place for those who simply try.

I’m quite impressed by a young man who once played football for the University of Houston. Case Keenum was a good college quarterback but everyone seemed to agree that he was too small and that his skills were too average to make it in the heady world of professional football. Case was a nice guy, but it seemed unlikely that he would ever have much of a career in the NFL. Amazingly somebody forgot to send that message to Case. He was never willing to give up even when it appeared that he had reached the end of his dreams of making a career out of football. He worked for the Houston Texans for a time but once that team found a better substitute he was once again looking for a job. This year he is currently having a winning season with the Minnesota Vikings. I suspect that he is doing as well as he is because he was guided by a persistence that would not allow him to give up. and his willingness to make the team better has made him a good person to have around. Case is one of those people who has much to teach kids who are looking for an amazing role model.

As adults we need to be constantly on the lookout for individuals who have done things that will show our children how truly great individuals behave. Whether we agree with all of his political beliefs, everyone of us should be able to admit that John McCain is one of those people who has been guided by a moral compass founded on unbelievable courage. Whether as a prisoner of war or a leader he consistently does what he believes to be good for his country. He has often found himself being harassed either by Vietcong captors or his fellow lawmakers, but he has the fortitude to ignore the sound and fury and endure the pain all for the sake of doing what he believes is correct. We should all admire him even if we don’t agree with him. We should also use him as an example for our young who often face situations in which they must stand apart from the taunts of their peers.

When I was young I read a series of books that told the stories of individuals who faced defining moments and chose to take the high road rather than turning away from their own principles. I loved all of those profiles of remarkable people and I attempted to model my own life around their characteristics even though I understood that they were exceptional and I was a bit more ordinary. Whenever I faced difficult decisions I dod my best to truly stand for something rather than following the status quo. I learned to judge myself not so much on rewards or the opinions of others, but on how well I had adhered to my core beliefs.

Winning and being popular can be a fleeting thing. The very people who love someone one moment may turn on them the next. Opinions are fickle and when a life is based on them it can be as unsteady as shifting sands. Most of our big disappointments all too often come from the realization that someone whom we wanted to impress has moved on to the next big thing. If we are less concerned with how others rank us and more with how well we have followed our principles, we will feel personal success which is far more satisfying.

When we are working with our children it is important to help them to find the basic principles that are most important to them. Competition is not an inherently bad thing but it is far more powerful to compete with oneself than to constantly be worried about how one is doing vis a vis everyone else. Aim for a few more points on the next essay. Try to shave some time off of that one mile run. Determine to help someone in need on a given day. Remember to be honest and steadfast. Developing good habits is powerful and leads to becoming a better person bit by bit until the moral values become an integral part of our natures.

There are heroic acts happening all around us. Talk with your children about them. Help them to define what makes certain people seem so outstanding. They will soon realize that what differentiates J.J. Watt as an amazing person is his effort and his generosity of spirit. We love Mattress Mack because he has a kind heart which also happens to make him a very successful businessman. A favorite teacher is usually a person who has put forth a bit more inspiration and sensitivity than the average educator. That neighbor who always seems to be helping everyone else is special because he/she has taken the time to be so. Greatness doesn’t just happen. It takes hard work and a steadfast adherence to fundamental truths.

We owe it to our young to help them to be their very best. Winning prizes is glorious, but sometimes the real hero is the person who ran the race even though he was in pain. The person who refuses to give up is a rockstar win, lose or draw. Someone who faces the wrath of a group to adhere to truths is as mighty as the greatest heroes of all time. Teach your children these glorious ideas and theirs will be glorious lives.