Showing posts with label mulligan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mulligan. Show all posts

Friday, June 18, 2010

The Constitution: A Living Breathing Document

This post first appeared here at History Is Elementary in June, 2006. I’m currently attending a seminar on educational law, so it seems appropriate to re-run this today.

Enjoy.

Earlier this month we sidestepped another effort to amend our Constitution. That’s not surprising since there have been approximately 10,000 proposed amendments since 1789. Most of them never got out committee while some amendments, the Equal Rights Amendment, for example, gained great notoriety but expired while waiting on ratification.

If it’s possible to love a document then Elementaryhistoryteacher absolutely adores the United States Constitution. My American identity rests in the stability and continuity of the United States Constitution. I really get into teaching my government unit even though some of the more intricate workings of our government I’m required to cover in fourth grade are a bit too lofty for the students to grasp. However, I try. I lay seeds that I hope will sprout later.

I teach students that our Constitution was the first of its kind for a recognized nation. It is so important that it has been copied many times by other fledgling democracies. We spiral back in our content to recall events we studied earlier in the year that began a chain ending with the Constitutional Convention. We remember the Iroquois League, the Mayflower Compact, and the Fundamental Orders. I remind students the colonist were Europeans---men who had governmental roots based in monarchies---men whose ancestors were the majority yet lived at the pleasure of a few leaders or in most cases one decision maker. We remember the Declaration of Independence whose author had the audacity to give a divine monarch his comeuppance. The beauty of it, I tell students, is that our plan of government works. It worked during times of crisis like the Civil War, Watergate, and during the presidential election of 1876 when the voting results were disputed in three states.

We discuss the events during the actual Constitutional Convention including the various compromises, and we learn about the three branches of government. We discuss ratification. At this point I usually depart from my colleagues because I feel it is important to teach students how our Constitution provides for amendments, but they should understand that any effort to change one of our most previous documents should be approached soberly and gingerly.

We discuss the first ten amendments known as the Bill of Rights because they concern our individual rights and were necessary in order to obtain ratification of the document. Future amendments are not usually discussed at my grade level unless the time period is taught when the amendments were added. There is nothing wrong with this in my eyes but teachers are loosing a fantastic opportunity to give the amendment process the proper examination it requires. Teachers are usually required to teach citizenship responsibilities to contrast with the Bill of Rights. Lessons are presented that indicate certain rights citizens have contrasting activities citizens should engage in to keep the Republic healthy such as voting and educating ourselves regarding important issues. While we are teaching citizen responsibilities we should also focus on the appropriateness of amending the Constitution.

The originality of our government is that it gives something very precious to ‘we the people’---not entitlement programs, porkbelly special projects, or low interest student/home loans---but freedom. Citizens are given freedom of choice, freedom of action, and freedom to live as we wish as long as our freedom does not interfere with the freedom of someone else.

It should be remembered that the Constitution doesn’t hand rights over to us; our plan of government only guarantees them. The philosophy that many of our Forefathers operated under taught that citizens are born with certain rights and liberties. The Constitution simply secures these rights for the populace.

The framers of the Constitution were highly suspicious of government. They had just gotten rid of what they considered to be tyrannical control. They were all about protecting individual rights not restricting liberty. Amendments to the Constitution involving personal liberty should always grant liberty not take it away.

Whether I agree with the premise or not, a proposed Constitutional amendment should never be used to serve as a smokescreen for Congress in anticipation of midterm elections. Our nation faces major problems with illegal immigration and the war in Iraq, yet proposed amendments regarding flag burning and same-sex marriage have been discussed repeatedly. This has been a poor use of the amendment process and is a poor use of emotional issues to detour voters from the real issues at hand.

Some Americans are going to engage in behaviors that others will have a problem with . Does this mean we are going to propose amendments for what some perceive to be bad choices and bad behavior? If this is allowed I'm afraid we will be opening doors that will be very hard to close in the future.

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

A Tale of Two Summers

This post was written in June, 2006 and since Vacation Bible School season is fast upon us I thought I would re-run it.

Go back in time with me to the olden days when summer was June, July, and August, kids caught fire flies while the adults talked ‘big talk’ on the porch, and my sister and I would find ourselves in our pajamas at the Dairy Queen on the whim of our parents as dusk overtook the day.

Each summer morning I would awaken to an already fiery sun around nine a.m. I would lie there awake and listen to the sounds around me. Sometimes I would identify the sounds of the washing machine, the slam of our wooden screen door, or my mother speaking on the telephone. I never dressed immediately. Instead I would get up and wander about the house looking out the front door and then moving towards the back of the house to check out what was going on. I’d say good morning to mom and then fix my breakfast. Sometimes it would be cinnamon toast or my personal favorite back then….Saltines spread with just a hint of butter and placed under the broiler. “Not too long or they’ll burn,” my mother would remind me.

Breakfast would be served in front of television that would blare The Price is Right, The $25,000 Dollar Pyramid, and Match Game (cartoons only played on Saturday morning back then). By the end of Match Game I knew it was 10:30.

What?!?

You didn’t tell time by what was on television?

It was easier back then, you know. We only had three channels---four or five if the coat hanger with oddly formed clumps of aluminum foil attached to it was turned just right.

By 11:00 I was finally dressed and mounting my bike to survey my outside world to see if anything was amiss. My Dad ran a lumberyard and our house was positioned right in the middle of the grounds. I had a large wonderful world to play in, imagine in and with all that extra lumber lying around I could concoct some hellacious ramps to take jumps on. I popped a pretty mean wheelie, too, with my monkey handlebars, banana shaped bike seat (white with psychedelic flowers) and optional sissy bar.

By late afternoon it would be H---O---T, hot, and my Sheltie dog, Lady, and I would opt for porch play. The house I grew up in was built in 1929 and had a very wide front porch that spanned the length of the front of the house. It was a wonderful outside room we used when it rained. Sometimes we used it late into the evening on summer nights. I’d play ‘house’ or ‘school’ for hours with Lady dutifully playing the role of ‘the baby’ or ‘the student’. Sometimes Lady would want her belly rubbed, so I’d read aloud to her from books like Henry and Ribsey, Ramona Quimby, Stuart Little, or Homer Price. Lady would lay there sprawled out listening to me and occasionally she wagged her tail in amusement.

Then the week would finally arrive for Vacation Bible School. I’d spend each morning for one week with my Sunday people. You know, all the folks I usually only saw on Sundays---the preacher, the choir director, my Sunday school teachers, and all the other people who benefited from my hugs. I was a huge hugger as a child and I made my rounds every Sunday. Vacation Bible School meant more time for hugs.

Vacation Bible School also meant learning more about Jesus, singing songs like Deep and Wide and crafts. There would be lots of glue, Popsicle sticks, Bible verses and of course, pictures of Jesus that would be glued to construction paper, taken home, and placed on the fridge.

Well, things have changed though I’m not so sure for the better. It seems Vacation Bible School has become a frantic string of activities packed into four hours where kids are told, “Hurry up we need to get to devotional.” “You don’t have time to finish the craft----we’ll be late for music.”

Not only has education become scripted in many areas so has Vacation Bible School. There was a time when you could go to your home church and experience their Bible school during June and in July attend the bible school for the church down the road. It would be entirely different. Most churches today (at least the Baptist ones I am most familiar with) purchase their Vacation Bible School materials from one vendor such as Lifeway. The program is theme-based with terrific materials for volunteers but……

……wasn’t it working well the way it was?

Does Vacation Bible School need a theme?\

Isn’t the Bible the only script we need?

I'm not dissing the concept or the wonderful volunteers...just the PROGRESS.

Every year at the beginning of the school year I know who has attended Bible school. They wear their t-shirts proudly as well they should. This year the Lifeway theme is ‘Artic Edge’. The shirts are cute but in my day (and I’m borrowing from the movie “The Three Amigos” here) we didn’t need no stinkin’ t-shirts.”

I fear most of my students won’t have the same summer experiences I did. Most kids these days get up early, get dressed, and get carted off to daycare where they have no bikes to ride and play in an overused play yard surrounded by a fence. Imagination is almost non-existent and very few students return to school in August with a tan. Most can’t stand the heat. They beg to go in from recess after a full five minutes because, “It’s hot!” Most students are simply overwhelmed by too much technology and can’t quite figure out how to entertain each other when given the opportunity with the simple outdoors.

My daughter has been helping out along with other members of her youth group at Vacation Bible School this week. She reports her group of second graders is awfully clingy. They want to hug her all the time or constantly take up their time wanting to share little vignettes of their life. They move together as a group from activity to activity and are having problems staying together as a group. Each group has a banner that identifies their grade level that they carry around from station to station. It’s a cute idea but Daughter Dear says the kids fight over who gets to carry it. When someone is chosen the rest complain. I spoke to Daughter Dear about group management, but she told me that was left up to the group’s adult leader.

Yesterday the second grade group received two newbies. Yes, it seems even Vacation Bible School receives “transfers”. Anyway, these two newbies are apparently the Devil’s spawn. Daughter Dear reports one little Damien sd GD out loud for all to hear.
Second grade, mind you.

I reminded Daughter Dear that the type of behavior she described is the premier reason why I don’t volunteer to help with Vacation Bible School. I’d end up disciplining some fellow church member’s sweet cherub and cause some type of major incident.

I know my limitations.

Daughter Dear ended our conversation by properly surmising, “Well, if I was their mom I’d try to get away from them for four hours, too.... if I could. All I can do is try to love them while I have them.”

Well…apparently she does listen to me sometimes.

That’s all we can do……love them.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Balloon Bombs....a Reprise

This post first appeared here at History Is Elementary in May,2007.

Enjoy!

Look at my title.

Balloon.

Bomb.

Separated each word means something very different and the concepts they represent are on opposite ends of the desirable and undesirable spectrum depending on the situation.

Of course, when you place the words together the concept they represent (water balloons) can also reside on opposite ends of the desirable and undesirable spectrum. Having a balloon bomb fall on you when you least expect it is not a desirable situation. Watching a water balloon drench someone you are upset with can be a great thing. Playing with water balloons on a hot summer day is a very desirable situation for many, however, believe me when I state being appointed as the adult who gets the honor of filling 200 water balloons for a field day event is not a desirable situation

Today’s 13 list doesn’t deal with just bombs, or just balloons, or even balloon bombs filled with water. The balloon bombs that are my subject today were meant to be weapons of war.

1. Balloon bombs were also known as fire bombs and were weapons used by the Japanese during World War II.

2. The balloons were filled with hydrogen and launched from the east coast of the Japanese island of Honshu. Some records indicate over 9,000 balloons were launched.

3. It was hoped that air currents would carry the balloon bombs across the Pacific to North America.

4. The Japanese were not the only country to use balloon bombs. The British used them against Germany for a time.

5. The bombs were found all over the western United States including Arizona, Idaho, and Iowa. Some even found their way to Mexico.

6. A balloon bomb was located as late as 1955 and it was still combustible. In 1992, a balloon was located, but it was no longer able to explode.

7. America had no prior warning that balloon bombs had been launched against them. Citizens did begin to notice the balloons and explosions were heard from California to Alaska.

8. Eventually more and more evidence mounted that proved something was going on. People witnessed something strange sailing to the ground in Wyoming. When it exploded shrapnel was left behind.

9. Scraps of “Washi” paper (made from mulberry bushes) were found in Los Angeles and in other places. The paper was used to construct the balloons.

10. The U.S. Navy found a balloon floating in the ocean. Later, an Army fighter plane managed to push a balloon towards the ground where it landed intact. Finally, officials could examine what had been launched against us more closely.

11. The American public finally learned about the balloons. The Newsweek issue dated January 1, 1945 contained an article regarding the balloons which the Office of Censorship asked to be removed from public view. The government’s strategy was if there was no information in the press the Japanese would have no information regarding how successful their balloon launch had been.

12. Authorities were really concerned, however, and feared that more balloons might eventually reach American soil. There was some thought that the Japanese had been working on a biological weapon and officials were afraid the balloon bombs might be a first step towards a biological launch.

13. Te event which resulted in the balloon bombs being launched against the United States was the Jimmy Doolittle raid against Tokyo. Doolittle’s raid, of course, was in reaction to Pearl Harbor.

Sadly, a balloon bomb did kill four people. You can find the story here.

A great informational article can be found here.

Monday, May 17, 2010

End of the Year Goodbyes

This morning I noticed on Facebook (yes, Elementaryhistoryteacher has a profile, but it's under an assumed name) several of my former students were commenting they just had one more week of school. Fellow educators were also giddy at the thought the school year is almost over.

Can’t say that I blame them.

In May, 2006 I was posting concerning end of the year awards and a letter that ALL of my students receive at the end of the year. I provide the full text of the letter and encourage other teachers to use it if they so desire.


I finally managed to get our team awards done yesterday and gave them to my team members so they could verify signatures, etc. I typed up awards for all As all year in each academic area, and most improved in each homeroom. The front office prepared our certificates for all As all year, all As and Bs all year, and perfect attendance----the usual, you know. As a team we decided to give our awards tomorrow so if there is some sort of mistake it can be corrected in time to give a new certificate to a student. As of 3:30 p.m. we still did not have our certificates the office was going to prepare. I hope we get them tomorrow morning.

My plan is to give out awards, have students place them in their book bags, clean out desks, and take up textbooks. I’ll have the students help me clean out files, inventory and reorganize my classroom library, dust, sweep, and step-and-fetch. We clean in my classroom at least once every nine weeks and the little darlins’ love it. I wonder if they are this helpful at home? Never mind, I’m a mom. I know the answer.

One of the things I give out to all of my students is my final farewell letter to them. I’ve taught siblings of my students and invariably someone will say, “Oh, my sister still has her letter.” One young man told me last year that his mom keeps my letter in his older brother’s file with all of his awards.

The first year I taught I tried to hand the letter out and then read it aloud. I ended up crying, they ended up crying, and I don’t have to tell you how young people can become very dramatic. So I usually fold the letter in half and write their name on the paper. I hand them out and instruct everyone not to open their letter until everyone has theirs. Once everyone opens their letter together and begins to read I try to busy myself in a hurry. I put things away, I straighten papers, or I simply walk back and forth acting like I’m doing something. Invariably I catch a few girls and even boys wipe a tear away. Some of my strong, young men will put their heads down and wipe their eyes out of view. Luckily no one tries to hug me or I think I would just die.

As of this month several hundred students have received my letter. Here is what it says:

Dear Students:

At the end of my first year teaching I wanted to bring the year to a close by writing a note to my students. This letter has become a tradition---every student who has passed through my classroom has received this letter as my farewell. It is amazing to me that 380 students have received this letter so far. Please take the advice I give you to heart, and never forget that I care about your success.

The following is a poem written by Shel Silverstein---I thought it was appropriate for this point in your lives. Mr. Silverstein wrote:

All the woulda-coulda-shouldas
Layin’ in the Sun,
Talkin’ ‘bout the things-

They woulda-coulda-shoulda done…
But those woulda-coulda-shouldas
All ran away and hid
From one little did.

During your last year of elementary school followed by middle school and high school concentrate on doing things that will have a positive effect on your lives. Choose your friends wisely, listen to your parents and teachers, and do the very best you possibly can in everything you attempt.

On your final day of high school don’t look back on the things you would have done, could have done, or should have done. My hope is that you will look back on a fine, long list of accomplishments that happened because you aimed high, took chances, lived up to your potential, and most importantly you did something.

I will always consider myself to be your teacher. I hope you will stay in touch through the coming years to let me share in your success.

With fond memories of each of you, I remain,

Elementaryhistoryteacher

Ah, another year almost over.........

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Millard Fillmore was a Know Nothing

This article first appeared here in March, 2006.

I write the following sentence on the board: Millard Fillmore was a know nothing. I ask students to tell me what the sentence means.

“Well…..somebody isn’t too smart,” a student volunteers.

Another comment is added. “That guy, Mil-, Mil-. That Mil- guy doesn’t know nothing.” I ignore the grammatical error. At this point it will just confuse them.

I try to turn students in another direction. “What are nouns?”

Someone regurgitates “Words that name people, places, ideas, and things.”

I counter with, “What’s our strategy to find nouns?” Several seconds go by. I hold up my board marker and point to it. Several hands go up.

“We look for noun markers like the words a, an, and the.”

“Good, take a look at the sentence again. What do you see?”

“Know nothing is a noun. It has an “a” in front of it.”

“Yes. So is Millard Fillmore stupid?”

“No, somebody is calling him a name.”

“What else do you notice about the words “Know” and “Nothing”?

After several tries someone tells me that the words are capitalized. I counter with a “So what?”

A show of hands. I choose someone. “Know-Nothing is a name for something.”

“Yes, but a name for what?”

I end our little language arts episode by telling students that Millard Fillmore was our 13th president and he was a member of a group called the Know-Nothings. I tell students their goal during the lesson is to determine how Fillmore became a Know-Nothing and what the group represented.

Millard Fillmore was a fine example of the American Dream. He grew up on a farm in the Fingerlakes region of New York. He attended a one room schoolhouse. By fifteen he was apprenticed to a clothes dresser. He worked hard and by 1823 was admitted to the bar. He got involved in politics and worked his way up through the ranks by serving as a New York legislator and later became a member of Congress. He was elected vice president to serve with Zachary Taylor in 1848.

As vice president Fillmore presided over the Senate. He remained fairly closed mouth concerning his position on the Compromise of 1850 aka the Kansas-Nebraska Act, but privately told President Taylor that if the vote was tied he would vote in favor of the bill.

Taylor died unexpectedly and Fillmore became the thirteenth president. The new administration had conciliatory views concerning the main issue dividing the country at the time----slavery----which was a 180 degree turn from the previous administration.

Fillmore said, “God knows that I detest slavery, but it is an existing evil…and we must endure it and give it such protection as is guaranteed by the Constitution.”

Fillmore’s presidency resulted in five important bills:
*Admit California as a free state
*Settle the Texas boundary and compensate her
*Grant territorial status to New Mexico
*Place federal officers at the disposal of slaveholders seeking fugitives (Fugitive Slave Law)
*Abolish the slave trade in the District of Columbia

Northern Whigs were upset with the Fugitive Slave law. They broke with Fillmore and refused to nominate him as their party’s candidate in the election of 1852.

In 1856, Fillmore accepted the presidential nomination of the Know-Nothing or American Party. Per Wikipedia when a member of the party was asked about the group’s activities, he was supposed to reply, “I know nothing.” They were a Nativist group that feared Catholics would gain too much control of state and local governments and opposed their immigration. They wanted to use government power to push their agenda regarding a Protestant Anglo-Saxon society. They called for limits on immigration, wanted to limit political office to native-born Americans only, and called for a twenty-one year wait for immigrants to become citizens. Other extreme desires of the Know-Nothings were a limit on the sale of liquor, restrictions on public school teaching to Protestants only, and to have their version of the Protestant Bible read daily in classrooms. Though Fillmore did not win the election he did receive 22% of the vote and the Know-Nothings were eventually absorbed into the Republican Party.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

November Remembrance

This post first appeared here in November, 2006

Is it possible to love someone through another’s memory? To love and admire someone you never met, someone you will never be able to meet, someone who at the moment of their passing caused an incredible upheaval of grief and gouged an enormous chasm of longing for things that can never be, someone who a large number of people still speak of with reverence, awe, and thankfulness?

I believe it is possible.

I know it is possible.

I know it because I participate in this kind of love and admiration everyday for two vastly different Americans who left this Earth almost a year to the day from one another. My admiration for these two inviduals stems from my mother who shared her memories of them with me during my formative years where they became entertwined and linked indelibly in the murkiness where actual memory and grafted memories blend.

I was six months old on Saturday, November 24, 1962. Naturally I have no real memories of this day. What I know comes from Sister Dear who was six at the time. We had just celebrated Thanksgiving the previous Thursday. More than likely my parents had driven my sister and I to their shared hometown to visit with my Dad’s folks and then my Mom’s. Little did anyone know it would be the last time my Mom saw her mother alive. Sister Dear recollects the phone ringing that Saturday afternoon and nothing ever being the same again. She tells me now that Mother began wailing and flung herself across her bed. Sister Dear remembers simply standing and staring at Mother as she became a grieving, heaving mass of pain. When she remembers that moment she sees a collage of images of mother mixed with the piney hardwood floor of our hallway, the old radio that had been mothers as a teen now used as a phone table in the hallway, and how time seemed to stand still. Sister Dear was watching Mother’s agony as she had been told her mother had been found dead of a heart attack at the age of 62.

NovemberRemembrance

It was sudden. It was cruel. It was not what anyone would have expected. In writing that my Mother has left behind she states Nanny was tall and slender with broad shoulders. She had beautiful skin and dark, thick, course hair. She was a great cook and seamstress----most of the clothes my mother wore were handmade by my grandmother. She was always a cheerful person---smiling, laughing, and always hid any problems she might have---plus she always wanted to do something to help people who were less fortunate than herself.

Sister Dear speaks of our “Nanny” by describing her simply as FUN. She remembers having great times with Nanny. In every picture I have ever seen of my grandmother she is wearing a June Cleaver type dress…..shirtwaist, short sleeves, and full skirt. Sister Dear tells that Nanny would place her in the hem of her skirt and swing her back and forth. That had to be fun. Sister Dear tells of waking on warm mornings and gazing up on the wall where a picture hung of a little boy and a little girl. They were about to cross a bridge and an angel was hovering at their shoulders. She has told me this picture actually scared her. We were told as children that the boy and girl were on their way to Heaven. I remember the framed print too…….it scared me as well. Sister Dear has told me she would lie in bed the longest time and try NOT to feel sorry for the kids, but it was hard. As an adult I now understand the significance of that print. My grandmother had bore tragedy upon tragedy as young woman. Her first husband had been shot to death in front of her, and she had lost three children….one to sickness, one got ahold of some medicine that had been left out, and a baby boy had been born dead. The print that scared my sister and I so probably gave comfort to our grandmother and might have been the reason it hung in the spare bedroom.

Once up Sister Dear would walk into the front room and find a big bowl of blueberries on the floor between the screen door and door jam. She’d sit on the gritty floor and munch away. It always seemed, Sister Dear says, that Nanny would just know she was up and awake. She’d turn from her chores in the garden and give a hearty good mornin’ wave, and Sister Dear's day of fun would begin by building a playhouse out of tongue and groove planks and a cardtable Nanny would provide for her. I’ve always been told Nanny loved working with plants and apparently she could get anything to grow anywhere. Sister Dear remembers Nanny always smelled deliciously of outside, sunshine, and fresh turned earth. Things could be done at Nanny’s house that could not be done at home. Nanny always allowed Sister Dear to make mud pies on the porch not with water, but with real honest to goodness buttermilk.

Sister Dear remembers Daddy holding her as they stood in front of the casket set up in the front room of my grandparent’s home, and she remembers the funeral which took place at the one room wooden church with the obligatory outhouse in the back plopped in the piney woods where three generations of my mother’s family scratched the dirt. The land for the church had at one time been part of the family farm, but my great grandfather had donated it to the church folk. Nanny was laid to rest in dirt that was home to her. Sister Dear remembers a long service, our distraught mother who we now know had been given something to keep her calm and quiet, and the long row of our grandfather’s half-sisters who were actually more in line with our mother’s age than our grandfather’s. Each dear aunt took her turn holding Sister Dear in her lap….first Dee, then Blanche, then Claudine, then Nelle, and Elizabeth and then back to Nelle, then Claudine, then Blanche, and then Dee where the whole process started over again.

Mother grieved. Years later Mother spoke of grieving hard. She often said the knowledge that she had to take care of Sister Dear and I got her through, but there were days she didn’t know if she could make it. Our grandfather grieved hard as well. Sister Dear remembers his home being fun. I remember it as dark and dusty shrine much like the Haversham bedroom in Great Expectations. Many things were left exactly like they were the day Nanny left us even down to her pin cushion which always hung on a nail in the hallway with the pins in it just like they were the last time Nanny used it. As I grew older it remained hanging on its nail fading in color with the dust eventually caking over it until it was practically rotten.

The remainder of this post can be found at American Presidents Blog Here

Monday, May 03, 2010

Uncle Robert and the Timberwolves

This post first appeared here at History Is Elementary in November, 2006 as a tribute to my Uncle Robert West for Veteran’s Day. His war story like so many others was almost never told. Like so many men who fought during World War II they all did heroic things, but wanted to just merely fade into the background once they returned, but my Uncle Robert could never fade anywhere…

So….meet my Uncle Robert and then tell me what you think:

This post is probably my longest yet. Yes, I know…..many of my posts are rather wordy. I even thought about cutting this one down a bit or even making it two posts instead of one. I decided I wouldn’t. To delete any part of it would be a disservice to the men of the 104th and to my Uncle Robert. I don’t think Uncle Robert’s story can be told without sharing details about the Timberwolves and their brave contribution to our victory over the Nazis.

I remember my Uncle Robert as a quiet, sweet soul. For many years I spent at least one week….sometimes two…. every year at his house. I remember a regimented man who maintained a schedule of getting up, going to work, dinner, a little television, his Bible, and then off to bed. I never heard him raise his voice even though I know he was a firm yet loving disciplinarian with his children. There was just something about Uncle Robert that made you want to please him. You never wanted to let him down by allowing him see you talk in church or by doing anything else you knew he would disapprove of. I remember early on summer mornings I would wake up in his home and lay there and listen as I heard the hushed tones of Uncle Robert and Aunt Claudine while they shared a quick breakfast together before he was off to work. Their private time together made me feel safe and secure.

As I was growing up I knew he was in the Army during World War II but until the last few years I didn’t know to what extent he served. Through his children I learned as I was growing up a little about Uncle Robert’s service. He made sure his children knew that World War II was necessary and that soldiers had fought to keep America free. He told them interesting stories about the war and his participation in it. Some of the stories were good, many were sad, but all were heroic.

The West family sent four sons off to war at the same time though their paths never crossed while they were in Europe. Uncle Robert was a Staff Sergeant in G Company, 104th Division, 414th Infantry, of the United States Army that landed in Cherbourg, France on September 7, 1944. They were the first American division to arrive on French soil without having first stopped in England. The 104th travelled to Europe via the USS Lejeune, the USS George Washington, the SS Ocean Mail, and the USAT Cristobal.

Once on European shores it is possible Uncle Robert along with other members of the 104th participated in the ‘Red Ball Express’, a circular 24-hour-a-day truck supply route from the invasion beaches to the front which had been in operation for some time before their arrival. My research indicates the 104th filled a support role for a few days before taking up defensive positions in the vicinity of Wuustwezel, Belgium on October 23, 1944.

The 104th was to relieve the British 49th Division and join the First British Corps, First Canadian Army. They were the first regiment of the American Army to relieve an allied unit on the Western Front, as well as the first American Regiment to fight under the control of an Allied Army.

Fellow soldier, Bob Bilinsky recollects that “G Company moved onto a dirt lane and then into an open area which seemed to stretch forever towards what we assumed to be the German positions.” As the Scottish soldiers they were to replace hopped happily out of their foxholes the soldiers of G Company were to take their place. Bilinsky recounts many of the Americans were “amazed at the complete disdain [the Scotts] seemed to have for the fact they presented an easy target for Germans gunfire! Suddenly it happened! The silence was shattered! Not by gunfire but by the loud strains of the Scottish bagpiper as the unit marched away in a swaying but perfect cadence to the pulsating beat of the music.” Bilinsky advised that “more than a few of us smiled” and “perhaps members of G Company owe that bagpiper a ‘Thank You’ for helping [them] lose just a little of the nervous edge [they] had built up on [their] first assignment for front line duty.” I can just imagine how my uncle (a mere country boy from the North Georgia foothills) must have jumped as the Scottish bagpipes began their initial whining. I’m sure; however, he was ready to cheer along with the other men of G Company as the cadence became a dual anthem of the Scots’ relief at leaving the foxhole and one of breaking the tension of an untested pack of wolves.

The Timberwolves soon had no reason to doubt their abilities. Once in Holland Uncle Robert and the men of the 104th began a series of 195 days of continuous combat with the Battle of the Dikes through Holland. My uncle told his children tales about crawling on his stomach, probing the ground inch by inch with a knife in order to search for landmines. At one point during battle, he was separated from his company for three days and survived by scrounging what food he could wherever he could find it; but just before MIA papers were to be sent home, he was reunited with his group.

Once they were finished with Holland the Timberwolves began a march through Germany savagely attacking the enemy. Relief was given to the First Division and they joined up with the U.S. Seventh Corps, First U.S. Army near Aachen, Germany in November.

The Timberwolves gained a reputation of an unflinching and ceaseless barrage of night attacks that terrified the Germans. Stolberg was taken as well as Eschweiler on November 21st. As they crossed the Siegfried line and Inde River near Inden in early December, 1944, a German radio broadcast reported ‘the most terrible and ferocious battle in the history of all wars.’ Many Germans called the fighting of the 104th ‘unfair’. The December 6th issue of Stars and Stripes stated, “Inden---there we stuck it out for four days under the heaviest artillery concentration ever experienced by American troops [approximately sixty shells a minute].” On December 9, 1944 the Army Times stated, “Correspondents predict that the coming battle of the Roer will see the bloodiest fight yet experienced on the Western Front.”

I’m fairly certain that Uncle Robert received his Bronze Star for his actions along the Roer River area because the date it was awarded coincides with the 104th’s location at that time. The citation states, “for heroic achievement in connection with military operations in Germany on December 12, 1944 when, during a heavy enemy counter attack, he directed the fire of his weapons until the attack was repulsed and the enemy was driven off with heavy losses.”

He also received a Purple Heart for being wounded in battle. A bomb hit close by him, and a large piece of flat metal hit his leg. He was told that if it had hit edgeways, it would have cut off his leg. His knee swelled so badly that he couldn’t get his pant leg on. He was sent to a medical unit where he remained for four weeks, but then was sent back to the front line.

That’s what Timberwolves did. They didn’t give up. They were tough. Nothing in Hell can stop the Timberwolves was their battle cry, and they proved it day after day as they slogged through Europe.

It is no surprise the Timberwolves had a larger than life reputation. Their training in Oregon and other places comprised mostly of night attacks….something the Germans did not like to do. They trained in the rain and mud in order to overrun the enemy at night and mop up operations during the day. Uncle Robert would have been highly trained in night sounds so that split second decisions could be made regarding identification of the sound and reaction. Twenty-five mile night marches were common practices during training. “Battles were town by town and river by river,” said Harold Kennedy, a Timberwolf soldier. Another soldier remarked, “We surprised [the Germans] so many times.”

Timberwolf commander, Terry Allen, called the spirit of Timberwolf training as ‘Get smart and get tough’. He called their battle tactics ‘continuous pressure and aggressive night attacks.’

Lucherberg was held by the Timberwolves from enemy counterattacks and all strongholds west of the Roer River were captured by December 23rd. For the next two months through February 23, 1945 the 104th defended the area they had won around Duren and Merken. They also saw action taking Huchem-Stammeln, Birkesdorf, and North Duren. By March they were entering Cologne. Afterwards they crossed the Rhine at Hoffef on March 22, 1945.

An offensive began against the Ruhr Pocket which was an area where over 300,000 Germans were surrounded, and finally a 375-mile sweep into the Mulde River brought them to the heart of Germany. Timberwolf Tracks (page 346) states, “Since 25 March the (104th) Division had advanced 375 miles, had captured 19,152 prisoners, had played a vital role in trapping the 335,000 German troops in the Ruhr pocket, and another 65,000 Nazis in the Harz Mountains.” Yes, the 104th was taking care of business and living up to the expections of their leaders.

They finally met up with the Red Army at Pretzsch on April 26, 1945. When they lost contact with the enemy on May 5 the brave men of the 104th Division had completed 195 consecutive days of combat.

Uncle Robert and his fellow soldiers fought ate, slept in mud, snow, and hail. They watched buddies fall by the wayside. My uncle often told his children about seeing comrades throw down their weapons and stand in the line of fire as a way of committing suicide even though he begged them to get down. He became a Christian during his early tour of Europe and his family believes it was his relationship with God that kept him strong and able to withstand the horrible experiences he had to endure. Many of his memories were painful for him. I even remember my own mother telling me not to bring up the war, a favorite subject of mine, to Uncle Robert. If he wanted to talk about it he would do it on his own. I’m glad that he spoke of it with his children. Uncle Robert always stated you didn’t need to dwell on the bad times too much, but should always look to the future with God’s help.

One of the stories that was nearest and dearest to Uncle Robert’s heart was the one about a young private who was a very good soldier but when he learned he was to be sent on one particularly dangerous mission he begged Uncle Robert not to send him. Uncle Robert was the Staff Sergeant which meant he had control over the assignments. Can you imagine the pain he must have felt knowing he was sending men out to die? That has to have an effect on you as it happens over and over and over for 195 days without a break. The young private cried and begged desperately not to be sent. He said to my uncle, “I know if I go in today, I will not come out alive. If I go, I know I will die today.” For some reason that we will never know, that young soldier was more afraid on that day than any other. Uncle Robert had the authority to send someone else, but instead put his own name on the mission list.

Uncle Robert went in the young private’s place.

Many years later tears would form in Uncle Robert’s eyes as he told his children about the young soldier. Unfortunately the passage of time had clouded his mind and he could not remember the young soldier’s name. At some point the family decided to try and find the soldier. There had been a a letter near the end of the war that was sent to my uncle’s mother stating that Uncle Robert had saved the private’s life, but it had long since been misplaced. Contact was made with many of the members of G Company asking if anyone remembered the story, but not a soul did. Uncle Robert could recall lots of names, but the name of the private with whom he shared such a personal bond was lost.

One afternoon in 1997, Uncle Robert was telling war tales again. He repeated the story about the young private. Suddenly he said, “His name was ……,” he said calmly. Everyone looked at each other in disbelief. As easily as the boy’s name had slipped from Uncle Robert’s mind many years ago, it had just as easily slipped back in.

That very afternoon in the mailbox was a new G Company newsletter. My aunt anxiously opened it and began reading all the latest news from the men to my uncle. At the end of the letter was a simple note from the wife of the young private informing Company G members that he had passed away, “after having gone through some hard times with cancer.”

You cannot go through an experience like that with someone and not have a bond with them. Uncle Robert never saw the private again after the war, but he knew the private credited him with saving his life. Uncle Robert’s daughter, Rena, likes to think that all of that time Uncle Robert thought about the private the Lord was actually using her father’s thoughts and prayers to to help the private through his battle with cancer. It was NOT just a coincidence that Uncle Robert remembered the private’s name on the very day he discovered the private had died of cancer. The private was finally at peace and Uncle Robert was too….since he remembered the name that had long evaded him.

It would seem that even though it took a lifetime…..the private finally repaid his debt to my uncle.

Uncle Robert is gone now. His family keeps his memory and his military service alive by sending in information to the local paper and submitting items for the church bulletin. Many of the personal details in this piece are taken from a piece of writing my cousins wrote. I want to thank my Aunt Claudine and her children---Tony, Gail, and Rena for allowing me to share Uncle Robert’s story.

Many people including the remaining Timberwolves themselves attempt to keep the brave service to their county out in the forefront with books and websites. The main site for the Timberwolves can be found here. A book called Timberwolves: The Story of the 104th can be ordered here.

A picture of G Company can be found here along with a handwritten note indicating the placement of each man. If the notes are correct Uncle Robert is in the picture to the right and counting from right to left he is the sixth soldier in the second row. The private who Uncle Robert replaced in battle is also in the picture according to the handwritten notes.

You can find out why I’m reposting previous articles HERE.



Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Wearing Mother's Jewelry

I keep several little reminders of my past on my desk at school. I have three small clay bowls I made in elementary school that at one time or another I presented to my mother for Mother’s Day or her birthday. One of the bowls stayed on a table in our living room for years with a small dried flower arrangement in it. On a picture stand I have a small picture I drew when I was a child that was glued to a piece of ply board and then covered with a clear glaze. I have a mold of my tiny hand made in second grade painted shimmery gold. I remember my teacher, Mrs. Smith, telling us to make sure we had signed our names to the bottom so that they would be true works of art. Today when my students explore my room at the beginning of the year they oogle my relics and ask, “Did you really make this when you were little?” I point to my handprint and proudly tell them, “Yes, and if you don’t believe me look at the name on the bottom.”

In my home I have a coffee table that Mom and Dad had in their very first house. The table is featured in just about every picture taken of my family room growing up. My son has already claimed the table and, he swears he will keep it safe and pass it along when the time comes. Today the “s” in permanent marker is still on one end of the table where I wondered what would happen IF……

I’m sure you don’t need for me to tell you the rest of THAT story.

I have some of my mother’s jewelry. Mostly the pieces are very simple costume-type items, but they are pieces I remember rummaging through her drawer and then trying them on for size. Now I can wear them and no one tells me I can’t, but the joy of wearing Mom’s jewelry is bittersweet because the tradeoff is simply too empty to imagine.

Isn’t that the way with mothers and daughters? When you finally get to wear the “big girl” jewelry you are surprised to find out the one person you want to see you wear it isn’t there to help you enjoy it.

Notice this painting….

The painting is titled The First of May and shows Prince Albert and Queen Victoria holding Prince Arthur who would one day be the Duke of Connaught. Prince Arthur’s godfather, the Duke of Wellington, is presenting him with a jewel-studded gold box.

Notice the tiara Queen Victoria is wearing. It is the same one pictured in this post. It is known as the “King George III Fringe Tiara”. Sometimes it is referred to as the “Fringe Tiara”.

This tiara was actually made as a necklace in 1830 from diamonds once belonging to King George III, the British king during the French and Indian War and American Revolution my students are now exploring. The tiara can be worn as a collar type necklace or once mounted on a thin wire it can be worn as a tiara. It is reported that Queen Victoria first wore the tiara to the opera in 1837, and of course, she wore it as Winterhalter painted the image I posted above. Upon Queen Victoria’s death the tiara was willed to the Crown along with several other pieces of jewelry to be worn by all future Queens.

While I did not find any evidence of Queen Alexandra, Queen Victoria’s daughter-in-law, wearing the tiara I located a photograph from the wedding of the future King George V and Mary of Teck showing the daughter of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra, Princess Louise, wearing the tiara as a necklace. The photograph can be seen below…..



Notice Queen Alexandra on the right is wearing a similar tiara called the Kokoshnik Tiara. Princess Louise is on the left and around her neck is the same Fringe Tiara. On one website I was able to learn that the tiara had been given to Princess Louise as a wedding gift. I am doubting this. It may have been loaned to her for the occasion since it was included in items Queen Victoria willed to the Crown. Queen Mary would be the next to wear it after Queen Alexandra. Leslie Field’s excellent book, The Queen’s Jewels, traces the line of this tiara very well and does not mention it was given to Princess Louise. While I searched and searched for an image of Queen Mary wearing the tiara the only picture I have ever seen is in Leslie Field’s book.

In 1937, Queen Mary passed the tiara along to her daughter-in-law Queen Elizabeth. Here is a picture of her wearing the tiara.


In 1947, Queen Elizabeth loaned the tiara to her daughter Princess Elizabeth, today’s reigning monarch, to wear as her “something borrowed” at her wedding to Prince Phillip. There is a famous story about how the tiara wire broke as the Princess was dressing for the wedding. The court jeweler was standing by in case of any emergency and immediately took the tiara along with several court policemen to a side room to fix the tiara.


In 1973, Queen Elizabeth was then known as the Queen Mother. She loaned the fringe tiara to her granddaughter, Princess Anne, for her marriage to Captain Mark Phillips.


Every family has items that seem to flow from one generation to another. If we look at family pictures closely enough we can identify items that have stood the test of time.
Royal families are no different.

If you are wondering why I’m re-running prior postings see the article HERE.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Razzle Dazzle and All That Jazz...Again

Lesson Planning 101 teaches that students must be engaged in the lesson for learning to take place. Charlotte Danielson of the Educational Testing Service states students should not simply spend “time on task” but should be actively involved in the curriculum. She calls it “minds-on learning.” In fact many researchers have shown that teachers who are most successful develop activities with students’ basic psychological and intellectual needs in mind (Ames, Alderman & Midgley, and Strong, et. al.).

Those statements sound good to me. I agree with them, however, I often feel as if I am doing a frantic tap dance attempting to keep everyone focused and learning at the same time. Spinning plates is the best way I know how to describe delivering instruction in a classroom that has quite a menu of interruptions from loose teeth, unannounced visitors, and the ever squawking intercom.

From time to time the content I teach actually gives me aide and comfort and makes my tap dancing steps a little less difficult. World War I gives me many opportunties to catch my breath as I am able to present one interesting idea concerning the war after another that successfully engages students. The Georgia standard I’m most concerned during this time is SS5H4(a) which involves German attacks on U.S. shipping during the war in Europe and how it eventually led to our involvement in the war.

After we have discussed the causes of the war (another post for another time) we take a look at the German U-Boats and their attacks on merchant and passenger ships especially the British passenger liner, Lusitania, where several hundred Americans were killed. Students generally take a look at passenger recollections of the event at great websites like Lusitania: Lest We Forget. We debate the question if it was correct for the Germans to fire on the passenger liner and through a power point I've created we take a look at evidence ending in a 2006 underwater expedition that confirmed the Lusitania was carrying munitions.

Then we take a look at camouflage.

I show students an image of camouflage. “What’s this?” I ask.

Hands begin to wave frantically.

Of course most of my students know what I’m showing them. Many hunt with their fathers, even some of the girls. A lively conversation begins. Just like their daddies every young hunter has a story to tell. Other students are just as familiar with the military uses of camouflage.

I tell students military forces across the world haven’t always used camouflage. It wasn’t until the savagery of World War I that it began to be used extensively in many different nations including the United States. I show students images of the British Redcoats and Patriot soldiers during the American Revolution.

Nope, no camouflage there.

Then I show them images of Civil War soldiers wearing the blue and grey and the more colorful Zouves.

Again, we don’t find any camouflage.

The old notion was that bright and bold designs would intimidate an enemy, but even the British threw out that tradition in 1902.

The increased use of technology during World War I---namely the use of aerial photography for surveillance and the extensive use of trench warfare provided for the widespread use of camouflage and the need for a new type of military personnel---the camoufleurs. Their job was to devise camouflage schemes to make it difficult for the enemy to locate and destroy forces and equipment. Many of the camoufleurs were artists and designers during their civilian lives.The French established the first camofleur group in 1915. The British then picked up on the idea calling the camouflage Dazzle. Finally, the U.S. began to use it and referred to it as Razzle Dazzle.

So, as many students often say, just what the heck does Picasso and art have to do with a war?

Picasso said it best when he witnessed camouflaged tanks rolling down the streets of Paris----“It is we that have created that.”

It’s at this point I share a few facts about Cubisim with students. The style of painting is thought to have begun in France around 1907 continuing through at least 1914 and beyond. Pablo Picasso is one of the best known Cubists as seen here with his L’Accordeoniste completed in 1911. Painters like Picasso liked to take objects and break them up and then present them in abstract form.

Picasso was correct. Art and war fused. Camouflage is a type of Cubism.

Many painters that are well recognized today were camoufleurs in the U.S. military----Thomas Hart Benton, Charles Birchfield, and Grant Wood.

Eventually the “school of Dazzle” was created and it was used extensively. Dazzle was camouflage used on naval vessels and it was quite dramatic using bright colors. Students are generally amazed by dazzle pictures. They do seem sort of strange looking. It was impossible to hide a ship out on the open ocean simply because they cannot melt into the background of sea and sky. Cubism helped to break the ship up and made it hard for the U-Boats to determine a ship’s speed and course. Without those two vital pieces of information a direct hit by the U-Boats was very hard to accomplish.

Take a look at the Mahomet, seen here. How many bows could this ship have?

In the beginning camoufleurs gave each ship a different design, however, as the war trudged on they devised specific designs that worked the best and used them over and over. It wasn’t just military ships that bore the Razzle Dazzle designs. Merchant ships and passenger liners become very colorful as well.

There were no color photography at the time, however, a few people have used today’s technology to cover over old dazzle pictures so that we can get an idea of what it might have looked like. A terrific website that covers all aspects of dazzle painting is presented by Roy R. Behrens HERE.

The advent of technology brought on dazzle and since technology is so fluid it effectively ended dazzle painting as well. Once radar began to be used dazzle camouflage was unnecessary. The extensive use of airplanes during warfare after World War I also made Razzle Dazzle obsolete, however, after the Japanese air power was diminished in the Pacific the Americans used some dazzle painting during World War II.

After the war dazzle painting soon began to be seen in civilian life in drawings, paintings, cartoons, clothing, and even painting on vehicles. The Behrens site gives several examples of civilian dazzle painting and goes into detail concerning the British efforts with dazzle painting.

Getting back to student engagement....after students have drawn their own ships and created their own dazzle camouflage designs it is very hard for them to forget the reasons why the United States was dragged into World War I.

Journal References:
Ames, C. (1992) Classrooms: goals, structures, and student motivation. Journal of Educational Psychology, 84(3), 261-271.

Alderman, L.H. and Midgley, C. (1998). Motivation and middle school students [Eric Digest]. Champaign, Il., Eric Clearinghouse on Elementary and Early Childhood Education (ERIC Document Reproduction Service No. Ed 421 281).

Danielson, Charlotte. (1996). Enhancing professional practice: a framework for teaching. Alexandria, Va., Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development.

Strong, R. , Silver, H.F., and Robinson, A. (1995) What do students want? Educational Leadership, 53(1), pages 8-12.

This post originally posted in July, 2007. You can click through and read the comments left at that time.

I’m reposting certain articles through the month of May…..you can read about it HERE.

Thursday, April 08, 2010

A Typical Day

The following post first appeared here at History Is Elementary in September, 2006 and is titled A Typical Day. This particular post was picked up and printed in its entirety for a USA Today article regarding teachers who blog.

This post deals with testing and how testing weeks can turn a school upside down…..how a typical day can become anything but typical.

The picture posted here is my classroom as it appeared in 2006. Today, a lovely friend of mine has custody of MY room, and I’m glad she’s the one keeping watch over it.

So if you came to my classroom this week or next would you see a typical day in Elementaryhistoryteacher’s classroom?

Unfortunately you would miss out.

It simply wouldn’t happen. My school has entered the realm of CRAZY SCHOOL which is a parallel universe created by all of the education stakeholders across America. CRAZY SCHOOL is where you take a smooth running machine that has been in operation for some five weeks and throw it to the four winds. The result is a faculty and staff that are so incredibly flexible they can be described as Gumby look-alikes along with a slightly bewildered student body that from one day to the next has a completely different schedule.

It’s not normal for my nine year olds to sit still for three hours while they show me what they know or don’t know compared to other students across our fair nation. It’s not normal for me to be in my office, (yes, that’s how I think of it) for three hours as the designated time keeper and gopher for Kleenex, sharpened pencils, and plastic baggies for that stubborn tooth that decides to pop out between answer bubbles. The burden of test security and protocols alone is extremely daunting and psychologically exhausting to my colleagues and me.

Gee, one wrong move and I might as well tear up my certificate.

Once the testing period is over we begin an abbreviated schedule so that we can still have the majority of our day for academics.

Remember academics?

The reason why we’re there in the first place……In twenty-first century education, however, an abbreviated schedule for some 5-600 kids is easier said than done when a large majority of them have individual needs and requirements and are tracked more ways than Atlanta has Peachtree Streets. An abbreviated schedule means you’re going to end up with a few kids you aren’t supposed have that class period, you’re going to not have some kids you need, and somehow or another your personal potty break doesn’t happen until 4:30 p.m. You figure out it is lunch time but you don’t have the normal group you take to lunch so you take the group you’re with, but then someone forgets and picks up the group they always pick up which means a group gets left behind.

The result?

CRAZY SCHOOL!

Keep smiling, stay flexible and tread that water! Testing time is almost half over.

So, let’s pretend it’s not CRAZY SCHOOL time. Let’s pretend you have come to visit when it’s a normal, routine school day. What would you see? Well, first of all you would see students sitting in mixed gender and ability groups. Students would be busy completing several different planned activities based on content we would have gone over a day or two before.

Generally my fourth grade students receive new American History content through one to two days of teacher-directed instruction heavily infused with questioning strategies, opportunities for predictions, and discussion.

Yes, you CAN discuss history with a nine year old.

Since this is the first opportunity for most of my students to learn about American History and since they are still developing their non-fiction reading skills I rely on the text, teacher-prepared notes, short trade books, videos, and teacher-created power point presentations to deliver content. A few “oh-by-the-way” type stories don’t hurt either. During our study of World War I, my fifth graders always perked up when I discussed the nastiness of trench foot. Ick!

Once students have content in a holding pattern in their dear little heads I follow up with three to four days of intense individual and group work where students rotate through a series of activities to hone textbook skills locating and recalling information, reproducing diagrams and maps, and writing creatively. Students also create vocabulary flashcards with the definition on the front and an illustration on the back. Students keep their flashcards on a metal ring and consider it a symbol of honor when they can show off a full ring of cards at the end of the year. I guess you could call it a ring of history.

Student extend the content by reading a related set of Accelerated Reader titles, reviewing a list of web sites I have created, or a selection of Kids Discover magazines that I have grouped together for the unit. Groups also work on a reading skill for each text lesson and have opportunities to work with content through crossword puzzles, cloze activities, and various graphic organizers.

I generally move around the room from group to group checking for understanding, asking more questions, and observing any holes I might have in my instruction. I also identify core skill weaknesses students might have. The noise level can get out of hand and off task behavior is a risk, but I have found that by being among the children I can help students by re-directing them when necessary.

So that’s what you would see most days in my classroom, but not this week.

CRAZY SCHOOL is the norm for this week.

Yes, this is the season of the mulligan……a series of past posts I’m republishing for your reading pleasure……and explanation was posted HERE

Monday, April 05, 2010

It's THE Week for Golf in Georgia

Augusta, Georgia is front and center this week as the golf infamous and elite arrive to play the much heralded course at August National.

President Eisenhower loved August National…..this post relates a little about his experiences there, and there are a couple of links at the end to other posts I’ve written concerning the course.

David Eisenhower became a member of the August National Club in 1948. Prior to becoming president he managed to visit the course five different times.

Ike loved golf. Estimations go as high as 800 regarding the number of rounds of golf Eisenhower played during his eight years in office visiting various courses. Some of those rounds were played during the 29 visits he made to Augusta National. a Golf Digest article advises President Eisenhower loved golf so much he installed a putting green on the south lawn of the White House and during inclement weather he hit long irons into a net in the basement.

With the help of donations from club members a cabin was built for Eisenhower on the grounds of Augusta National in 1953 for a cost of $70,000. However, your idea of a cabin, my idea of a cabin, and Augusta National’s idea of cabin are totally different things. The Eisenhower cabin is a house as seen in the image here. The cabin was built to the specifications of the Secret Service and has an entire lower floor where agents resided when Eisenhower visited Augusta. The cabin served as the first real home President Eisenhower had known since graduating form West Point in 1915 and entering the army. When the President wasn’t visiting the cabin, it was used by other club members.

Accommodations were also made for the President to complete his business affairs----the business of the nation---in an office that was provided for him over the club’s pro shop. In fact, it has been reported that the “Eisenhower Doctrine,” where America announced it would use force in the Middle East, was announced within a fairway wood of the first tee. Today Eisenhower’s own cracker barrel sits in the Augusta National Pro Shop. The wood used for the barrel was once part of the White House roof.

Sadly it was impossible for President Eisenhower to attend a Masters Tournament while he was president. It would have been too disruptive. However, he would usually show up on the following Monday to play a round with the winner. The same Golf Digest article I referenced above states Arnold Palmer remembered Ike as “a regular guy on the golf course and a regular guy period.”

Palmer also remembered Ike was a fierce competitor who fought for a $1 nassau bet as if he were hitting a beach in France. “When somebody conceded him a putt,” Palmer recalls, “there was no discussion. He picked up his ball and moved on fast.”

At least once during the coverage for the Masters Tournament you will hear a reporter mention the Eisenhower Pine. The tree in question is a Loblolly Pine that stands 65 feet tall and is estimated to be at least 100 years old. It is located on the 17th hole, and is 210 yards from the Master’s tee.

The tree and Eisenhower had quite a contentious relationship. The pine had a bad habit of getting in the President’s way. At a 1956 club meeting Eisenhower addressed the members in attendance and suggested the tree should be cut down. The Augusta National Club website advises that club president, Clifford Roberts, adjourned the meeting immediately instead of offending the President by rejecting his request outright. Citing Roberts Rules the club president ruled the President of the United States out of order.

Some of the changes to the Augusta National property President Eisenhower proposed were more positive, however. At one point Eisenhower mentioned he had found a perfect place to build a dam in order to form a fish pond. Today the dam is exactly where the President suggested, and the pond is referred to as Ike’s Pond.

One of the best stories concerning President Eisenhower at Augusta National is the time when the press corps was allowed to follow him on a full round of the course. At Rae’s Creek Ike hit two balls into the water. The President of the United States immediately stripped of his shoes and went after the errant golf balls. The reporters had a very rare moment on their hands, unfortunately I have yet to find a photograph of this moment online.

This article first appeared at American Presidents Blog in April, 2008

Over at Georgia on My Mind I discuss Ike’s special church pew in Augusta and at History Is Elementary I discuss the history of the land where Augusta National is today.

Friday, April 02, 2010

A Sticky Easter Memory

This is a true story I wrote in 2006……while it deals with my memories about the death of my great-grandmother, it is also a humorous story regarding a very old-time southern funeral, the Easter Bunny, and what can happen to your gum on a very, very warm Spring day……

Enjoy!

I’m sure, dear reader, you are familiar with the definition of sticky as it refers to candy. Did you know that there is now a cyberspace definition for sticky? It has to do with how well your site attracts traffic. Sticky sites have high volumes of traffic, especially the returning kind.

Has your mind ever returned to a memory due to a sound you’ve heard, a smell, or even a particular holiday? I guess we could call those memories “sticky” because we keep returning to them.

Yesterday morning as I awoke I remembered that it was Easter Sunday. My mind instantly returned to a memory that is sticky in more ways than one. My father’s family buried his grandmother on Easter Sunday. She was 102; I was 6. Every Easter I recall this day because Granny should be remembered, and I got myself into a sticky mess at her funeral.

Granny, as her family and community called her, was born immediately following the War of Northern Aggression (her point of view). In Sunday school yesterday a friend of mine remarked that as we grow older we tend to stop following fashion trends and settle for the decade where we are most comfortable. What an apt description of my great-grandmother. Picture the little old lady from the Tweety and Sylvester cartoons and you have my great-grandmother. She was outspoken and feisty. Granny usually ruled the roost. She wore wire spectacles, her hair in a braid or bun, long dresses and black lace-up shoes with a heel. Her “everyday” bonnet always hung on a rocker by the fireplace that to this day we still call Granny’s rocker. My children who of course never met Granny even call this revered chair “Granny’s” rocker. I have one of her bonnets in my classroom that I pull out when we talk about the settlement of the West.

By the time I came along Granny was well known in the community due to the large number of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren she had. Huge parties were given from her 90’s as well as her 100th, 101st, and finally her 102nd birthday where large numbers of friends and family would descend upon my grandfather’s small farmhouse. The local radio station, WCHK, broadcasted interviews with her and she would receive birthday greetings from the governor.

How my great-grandmother lived and how I live today is separated by a gulf of technology. She would find most of my life a huge waste of good energy and would most certainly let me know that in a very pointed way. I, on the other hand, would find the life she led extremely difficult. She spent most of her time ensuring her family had something to eat each day by growing it, harvesting it, or killing it-----sometimes with her bare hands.

Granny passed away at home quietly on Good Friday, 1968. They brought her home as was the custom for persons from that generation and placed the coffin in the front bedroom where she had died.

Knowing that there would be no room for us in my grandfather’s house my father rented a pop-up camper for us to sleep in. The whole event was quite an adventure from my viewpoint. I did, however, worry about the Easter Bunny and how he would find me in that camper.

When we arrived at my grandfather’s my father ushered my sister and I into the front bedroom to pay our respects. He was intent on us doing the right thing. The cannonball bed that Granny slept in had been dismantled and the coffin filled the room. The funeral home had placed two large floor lamps on either side of the casket. They cast a golden hue over the room. The flowers folks had sent, mainly carnations, emitted a sickly, sweet smell that I associate with death to this day.

Daddy stood behind my sister holding her in place as their respects were paid. Daddy’s actions spoke volumes even in my young mind. He was teaching us how to handle ourselves even in the midst of his own grief. My sister looked as if she wanted to bolt from the room the minute Daddy removed his hands, and she did. Daddy immediately turned to me and scooped me up into his arms. He swung me up and over Granny’s coffin. I can close my eyes right now and experience that light-headed feeling as I went up into the air. My excitement turned to curiosity mixed with fear as my legs dangled over my great-grandmother’s body. I wondered if Daddy was going to drop me onto Granny’s body. I looked down and examined Granny’s serene form. She’s sleeping----just sleeping I remember thinking.

The next morning I discovered the Easter Bunny did know where I was. My over flowing basket was lying next to me when I woke up. I began my breakfast with assorted marshmallow eggs (the kind with the white fluff inside) and the ears from my chocolate bunny.

I rode to the funeral with my Aunt Boofie------yes, I know…one of those horribly strange family nicknames that no one ever thinks to ask about its origin until everyone that knows is gone. The funeral would be a country affair with several preachers, lots of hymn singing, and no air conditioning. It might have been Spring but it was h-o-t----hot. I was dressed as any six year old young lady would have been at the time---lots of chiffon, lacy, scratchy petticoats and underwear and white anklet socks with layer upon layer of lace. My white patent Maryjanes squeaked when I rubbed them together, so I did it often just to annoy my elders.

As we traveled down the road Aunt Boofie handed everyone in the car a couple of sticks of Juicy Fruit gum. Under normal circumstances gum would have been an appropriate thing to do but not when one has been indulging in Easter eggs and chocolate all morning. The combination was simply bad chemistry in my mouth. The gum immediately turned into a slimy substance with bits of crystallized sugar from the colored covering of the candy eggs. The gum still hung together but it was incredibly sticky and gooey. I certainly didn’t want it in my mouth so I simply did what any six year old would do….I took it out and held it. I reasoned that I would throw it away once I got to the church.

Upon arriving we waited forever out in the hot sun for everyone else to assemble. Then we had to wait on the pall bearers to form ranks and carry Granny into the church. By this time the gum had morphed itself into super glue. Not wanting my Mom to see it I pressed my hands together and intertwined my fingers together.

As we walked into the church everyone was commenting to Mom how cute I looked. One cousin remarked I sure did look sweet with my hands all folded like I was ready to commence prayer.

Once we were seated I attempted to get my hands apart. They wouldn’t budge. I tried and tried through three songs and two of the preachers. The mourners began filing past the open casket before it closed for all time and Mom and I watched as everyone left their pews and filed around by the casket and back up the aisle to their seats. My grandfather lingered the longest hovering over the casket saying things I could not hear. I was so mesmerized I momentarily forgot my hands were cemented together. Pa’s body shook with heavy sobs. It is definitely a pivotal moment in someone’s life when you see a security figure, a larger than life figure, collapse into a heaving, sobbing mess. It dawned on me at that moment that my grandfather was crying over his mother. He had a mommie----just like me. I began to cry. Have you ever tried to wipe tears away when your hands are cemented together?

Pa eventually sat down and it was getting closer and closer to mine and Mom’s time to go up. My thoughts turned back to my hands. I repeatedly tried to pry them apart, but they would only budge an inch or so. My thoughts were so intent on getting them apart that I forgot Mom was sitting right next to me. She glanced down to pinch me into stillness and saw my hands. Her gasp was so loud that the folks in front of us turned around. Mom was so embarrassed and flustered. She motioned for the rest of the pew to file out around us while we just sat. The longer that funeral went on the madder Mom got. She was so upset with me that she drug me to her car and took me straight back to my grandfather’s without going to the burial leaving the rest of the family to wonder what was wrong.

The rest of my Easter Sunday was spent with my hands alternately submerged in ice water or held out to my mom. She rubbed and scrubbed my hands until they both were raw.

Needless to say my Aunt Boofy never gave me a piece of gum or candy again. However, my Aunt Rachel did give me a Kentucky Fried chicken leg one time, but that’s another sticky memory entirely.

Monday, March 29, 2010

There's More to Samuel Adams Than Just Beer...

I wrote the following blog post in March, 2006. Enjoy!

Introducing American History to children isn’t always easy. I employ the “take two steps forward, one step back” method. I constantly review. I constantly connect old content to new content.

Over the last several days we have become knee deep into the American Revolution. During our review of taxes, taxes, and more taxes we were making a list of the different ways colonists protested the taxes. As they volunteered I wrote-----boycotts, smuggled goods, letters to Parliament, petitions, and violence. A young man volunteers, “The Sons of Liberty.” Immediately a girl speaks up and says, “Daughters,too----the Daughters of Liberty!” I make separate entries on the board to please the masses.

I say, “I think we have them all. What about important people who spoke out about the taxes?” Students rattle off the following names---James Otis, Mercy Otis Warren, and Patrick Henry. “There’s one more that we’ve talked about, so far,” I prompt.

A voice says hesitantly, “Samuel Adams?”

Another voice counters, “No, John Adams. Sam Adams is the name on my Dad’s beer.” The room erupts in laughter, shouts, and counter-shouts from all corners. I raise my hand----the Harry Wong ‘guaranteed to get them quiet’ way.

I ask the class to turn to the appropriate page in the book where Sam Adams is highlighted. I wait for everyone to come on board. You see, even opening textbooks and finding page numbers can create momentary chaos in a room full of nine and ten year olds.

“Ok,” I finally say. “Samuel Adams’ cousin, John, called Sam “a plain, simple, decent citizen of middling stature, dress, and manners. The Governor of Massachusetts, a loyalist, called him the most dangerous man in Massachusetts.”

Then I continued, “Boys and girls, Sam Adams IS the name of a beer.” Looks of ‘I told ya’ sos’ are flashed around the room. “Our job right this minute is to reread about Sam and figure out what he did to get a beer named after him.”

We learn that after graduating from Harvard in 1740 Samuel Adams studied law, and worked as a clerk and merchant. He managed a brewery before being elected tax collector.

That tidbit of knowledge causes some titters as the realize one of the most important tax protesters actually had collected taxes. We read on and learn more.

As more and more taxes were levied against the colonists Samuel Adams found out he was a good organizer and speaker. He helped to organize Boston’s chapter of the Sons of Liberty. Adams’ main talent was to bring together rich and poor alike. He wrote several pamphlets urging Americans to rebel against the British. One pamphlet called “The Rights of the Colonists” centered on three ideas: the rights of colonists as men, the rights of colonists as Christians (imagine that!), and the rights of colonists as subjects. These same rights are introduced into the founding documents of our nation---the rights of life, liberty, private property, and freedom of religion.

I stop our process of reading and tell students to remember this. I tell them in a few days we will talk about the Declaration of Independence, and I will ask them to remember Sam Adams’ pamphlet.

Samuel Adams played an important role in the first actual battle of the Revolution. The British soldiers began to move against Lexington and Concord because they had information that John Hancock and Sam were there with a store of weapons. Luckily they were warned.

We talk about what we just read and identify the qualifications that could get a beer named after you. We then discuss which is more important, having a beer named after a historical figure or the contributions of that person. We decide the contributions are more important, and we discuss why the beer company would want to have a famous name attached to it. Having completed our review I inform students it’s time to go.
Several hands appear in the air, and one young man asked, “Well, what happened at Lexington and Concord?”

“Oh, young grasshopper,” I say in my pitiful ‘Kung-Fu’ imitation, “that’s a story for another time.”

That’s the secret.

Leave ‘em wanting more.

If you are wondering why I’m republishing past postings see my explanation HERE.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Discovering Questions

The following post first appeared here at History Is Elementary on January 28, 2006. It involves a lesson where I used a series of questions to help students discover new material…..linking old knowledge to new ideas. Read on…..YOU might learn something interesting about history and what goes on in your child’s classroom.

Remember….this is the season of the mulligan here at History Is Elementary (see my explanation post HERE). I’m re-posting some past efforts for your enjoyment while I’m off working on other projects.

Questioning students of any age is a great way to assess and gauge your success, but I like to use questions to guide students to discover information on their own---information that I want and plan for them to discover.

Discovery is an important tool in the classroom. I can provide text pages, notes, and lecture to them all day. They might be able to regurgitate information back at me, but has transfer of knowledge really occurred? Discovery, on the other hand, gives a student ownership of the material and builds motivation because I don’t place the content in the student’s mind. The student logically analyzes information and arrives at a new idea with a group of peers. They own this new idea and discuss it in their own terms. This is true transference. Students take some background knowledge and build on it using logic.

Usually when I question students my goal is to review important bits of information, get them to think differently about a topic, and to lay groundwork for a future unit. Here’s an example of how questioning worked in my classroom this week. EHT refers to me while student refers to various students who joined in on the conversation.

EHT: Where were the Puritans from?
Student: England.
EHT: OK. Somebody else tell me one thing about England’s government.
Student: They have a king.
Student: They have something else too. A P…. A Par…..
EHT: Do you mean Parliament?
Student: Yes.
EHT: Let’s discuss the king for moment. How does the king become the king?

I survey a sea of thoughtful faces. Finally a hand goes up.

Student: The people vote?
EHT: Not quite, but thank you for participating. Do you remember me talking about Queen Elizabeth?

Heads begin to nod. Students begin to speak out without permission. They had enjoyed our discussion a few weeks ago about Elizabeth and how she became queen. I had told them about how she was “married” to England and would not marry Phillip of Spain. This was a good sidebar to the information in their text about the defeat of the Spanish Armada. They enjoyed the fact that Queen Elizabeth had toyed with Phillip and finally told him she would never marry him.

EHT: OK. How did Elizabeth become queen?
Student: She took over after her father died.
EHT: Right. Kings and queens inherit the throne. Does a citizen of England have a say regarding who is king or queen?
Student: No.
EHT: Good. Let’s see where we are so far. We’ve got Pilgrims and Puritans in North America. We have some people in Jamestown. They are English citizens, right?

I get a chorus of “RIGHT”

EHT: Who is our leader today in the United States?
Student: the President.
EHT: How does the President get his power?
Student: From we the people.
Student: People vote.
EHT: Did the Pilgrims, Puritans, or the people at Jamestown elect the king?
Students: NO.
EHT: Do you mean to tell me the English citizens didn’t get to vote for their leader?
Students: No.
EHT: OK. We have English citizens living in North America who have never voted for their leader. They have never experienced the freedom of voting.

I point to the board where I have written Fundamental Orders along with a definition.

Fundamental Orders was the first written plan for government in North America by the English. It detailed the plan of government for the colony of Connecticut. Reverend Thomas Hooker is generally given credit as the founder of Connecticut. He was a disgruntled pastor who found fault with the Puritan theocracy in Massachusetts. Hooker was also a proponent of allowing all white men to vote----not just the wealthy or well-connected.

The Fundamental Orders allowed voting.

As I point to the board I say, “Englishmen haven’t experienced the vote."

I continue, "So what? What’s the big deal?"

I perch on my stool and wait. We have a few false starts and then:

Student: Hooker wanted more freedom----he didn’t think it was fair that only certain people made decisions.

This student simply restated what I had on the board.

Student: People in Connecticut could vote like we do today.

EHT: Hmmmmm……..I wonder how the United States got the idea about voting?

Student: George Washington.
Student: Abraham Lincoln?
Student: There was a whole group of people.
EHT: I believe you are thinking about the “Founding Fathers.” We are going to be learning about them soon.
Student: Did George Washington and those people know about the Fundamental Orders?
EHT: Yes.
Student: They got the idea from Hooker. That’s why we vote.
EHT: Yes. The Founding Fathers did read the Fundamental Orders along with a great many other important documents in history. They studied the past to see what came before, they decided what had worked before and what didn’t, and then they used those bits and pieces to form our government.

I walk about over the board and tap where Fundamental Orders is written and say, “That boys and girls is the so what behind this vocabulary term. That is why it is important enough for you to spend your time learning about it.

Students have now taken the dry and stale vocabulary term, Fundamental Orders, connected it to information they already knew, and have arrived at a new and improved idea that I can draw on as we continue our studies.

In a few weeks when I begin to speak of the Constitutional Convention I will draw students attention back to this moment in order to question them even more.

HERE is the link to the original post…..you can see the comments that were posted at that time. Feel free to leave new comments below.

Tell me…..did YOU learn anything? :)