Tag Archives: faith

On the Binder

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19

Do you recall having loose leaf binders in school? I remember having a blue cloth loose leaf binder. I got my first one in 4th grade. I liked the different sections, the yellow dividers, and the inevitable reinforcements. However, what I liked most about having a loose leaf was that I could doodle on the cover. Whether its flowers and hearts or monsters and trucks, I think you can learn a lot about someone if you look at their doodles.

Well, if somehow my old loose leaf binders could be resurrected, they would confirm that I was a sports lunatic. I used to draw these rectangles which I envisioned as banners hanging from the rafters. This is where the elite athletes would have their names one day. However, the day came a little early for those I chose from among the stars of the Philadelphia teams of my youth – Clarke, Barber, Montgomery, Carmichael, Erving, Toney, Carlton, and Schmidt.

I put these players and many others on a pedestal. I looked up to them and imagined what it would be like to meet them. They were more than athletes I saw on television. I felt as if I knew them. I see my high school students do the same thing today. They are completely obsessed with particular players – Lebron James could have a thriving fan club just comprising the students I had last year.

In the years since my early ‘doodles’, I’ve realized that I did not know where to ‘draw the line’ – pun intended. Being a professional athlete means that an individual has been blessed with great skill which he or she has honed through hours upon hours of practice. It does not mean the athlete is a good person. It does not mean that I know the athlete because I have seen them perform their sport. I do not know them, and I have no true understanding of the type of person he/she is.

I want my boys to enjoy sports. Enjoying and partaking in sports is good exercise and a great way for children to bond. However, I do not want my boys to obsess over sports and blur the lines between a star on the field of play and a wonderful person in the game of life.

Respecting and admiring the athlete for his/her talents is fine. However, I also want my children to respect the policeman who puts his life on the line, the fireman who saves others, the military man who protects the country, the teacher who enables children, the entrepreneur who seeks to make things better, the scientist who tries to find a cure, the doctor who helps people to feel better, the religious figure who gives guidance, etc.

The point is everyone who works hard, shows care for others, strives to better himself/herself is deserving of respect. No one – particularly someone you don’t know – should be idolized. When it comes to worship, you should look above for inspiration and not around.

When my children get their first loose leaf binder, they will surely come to doodle on it at some point. As they consider what to doodle on their book, I hope that they will go beyond my options.

PS. I wrote a newspaper article about the Penn State situation that is related to this. Here’s the link: http://www.northjersey.com/news/opinions/163267936_What_to_do_when_idol_is_shown_to_have_feet_of_clay.html?page=all

Striving to See the Good

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I don’t believe in bad luck. I am a strong believer in fate. I believe everything from the big things – births, jobs, marriages — to the little things – the wind blowing, the amount of the electric bill, hair color — is meant to be. This belief stems from my belief in an all-encompassing G-d who is involved and does things for a reason that is ultimately good.  Despite that, there are times and events that can’t help but leave me wondering why, what is going on, where is the good? 

A week and a half ago a good friend of mine told me that his 11-year-old daughter has a brain tumor.  This girl has an amazing spirit.  She is a positive, sensitive, caring, and spiritual child who has not let any of the challenges she faced slow her down. Now, she and her family are faced with this incredible mountain.
A little boy who resides in my community recently underwent an umbilical cord blood stem cell transplant. His parents have been trying to find a stell cell match for some time. Unfortunately, a direct match was never found. So, now they find themselves trying this risky surgery and facing a long recovery (we can only hope and pray) process.
This afternoon, a friend of mine emailed and told me she is losing her job as of August 31st. The funding was cut and her position is being terminated. She is both scared and worried. With the economy as it is, this is certainly understandable.
Lastly, a friend of mine emailed me to let me know her oldest sister, just 49, passed away last week. She was suffering greatly from cirrhosis. The pain from the disease and other difficulties she was facing in her life became too much for her to bear. She chose her own way out.
The 11 year old has come through the first phase of her recovery well and the doctors are optimistic. The three year old continues to battle, and he has had some good days. My friend who was laid off is giving herself a day to mope and then vows to network like crazy (she is definitely the type).  My other friend and her family take some comfort that their sister/daughter is no longer suffering. 
As for me, I still believe in G-d. In fact, I am using these events and others to  inspire me to pray more. I pray for recovery, comfort, understanding, and for that which only G-d knows my friends and others need.  I pray to see the good and appreciate that in reality everything is just that.

Where’s the Flag?

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Memorial Day has come and passed. For many people, the day marks the unofficial beginning of Summer and is celebrated with outdoor activities galore. However, many of us know few details about the official reason for the holiday other than it is a day set aside to honor those who lost their lives in battle. According to the website www.usmemorialday.org, “Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery.” How many of us honored those who fell for our country?

I remember my parents – my father in particular who served in the Army during the Korean War (but was stationed in Germany) – used to always make sure he had a flag hanging from our house on those special days ie. Memorial Day, July 4th, etc.  Many of our neighbors did the same thing. I liked walking along and seeing all the flags up and felt a certain pride in my family and in the country. However, not only do I not put up a flag at my own house on those special days, I forgot we even had a flag in my house till my wife reminded me. My only celebration of the holiday that in any way hearkens to its original intention is to go to the parade in the small town my family and I reside in. The local fire company, policemen, etc. march along with the veterans. I clap out of respect when the veterans pass along the parade route.

I consider myself a patriotic person and feel proud to be an American. My background is right out of a history book and can be told to the tune of G-d Bless America in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty. Here is the short version: my maternal grandparents, along with their immediate families, escaped from their small shtetels in Russia and ultimately came to America for religious freedom and economic opportunity. For my father’s side, change grandparents to great-grandparents, and the rest is the same. Therefore, I have every reason to be grateful to this country and those who lost their lives while battling its wars.

SY and I were walking to synagogue just before Memorial Day. A funeral home is on our route and it was covered in American Flags. I asked my son what did he see and when he said the American Flag. I proceeded to ask him if he knew why there was so many. He did not know. Not surprising. I tried to explain a bit about Memorial Day and what it means to be patriotic.

In the high school where I teach, the pledge of allegiance is read aloud over the PA system. Prior to reading the pledge, the reader asks that everyone stand. In my nearly 9 full years of teaching, I have never seen any person get up other than a few freshmen who stop standing before it hits October. I, on the other hand, stop class, stand up and face the flag. The class which is made up of 100% minorities, many of whom are first or second-generation Americans, are completely disinterested. When President Obama, a man of a mixed racial background became President, I hoped that students would be inspired. They were for a few days – wearing buttons and proudly watching the inauguration. However, that enthusiasm has waned and the students have lost what little interest they had in the country they now call home.

So, I wonder about the drop off in patriotism. Will the next generation feel any pride in their country? If so, how will they express it? What can I do as a parent and a teacher to instill that pride? I hope at a minimum they will recognize the great sacrifices that some have made and continue to make for this country, so that they can express pride while they freely take all the benefits that are available to them.

What’s in a Memory?

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What’s your first memory? Your most recent memory? Too distracted to remember what you had for dinner last night (mac ‘n cheese here – a staple in my house). Are you so busy that you have to think twice to remember your name? I have been thinking lately about memory and why some moments stick and turn into memories and others fade away.

During a recent episode of Modern Family, the old man that the young boy Luke was friendly with died. Luke’s dad, Phil, is inspired to spend time with his daughter, Alex, so that she can have memories of him and of things they did together. They spend the day engaging in activities that he hopes will forge their bond. They end up at a restaurant, and their waitress appears ready to give birth at any moment. Phil goes through some outrageous hijinks, hoping to induce labor, and thus a memorable event. Ultimately, Alex comforts her dad saying that she will remember the day just because it was the day her dad tried so hard to make a memory for the two of them.

Last week, I watched the movie The Breakfast Club with my 10th grade class. It was in support of a book we are reading, The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. The book (sort of like a modern day Catcher in the Rye) and the movie are both set in high school. It got me to thinking about my own high school days. I didn’t get all that much out of my high school years. I was shy and awkward and was a bit of a wallflower myself. Ironically, I did not particularly like high school, and now, I am a high school teacher. Anyway, this book and movie make me wish I had gotten more out of high school and made more/better memories.

I recently read a blog talking about a pending move to the suburbs. The writer was partly excited and partly nervous. I can empathize. Next month will mark 5 years since my wife and I made our move to the suburbs. What do I remember about our apartment in the city? Many things actually – sitting there together only days before our wedding and dreaming all good things about our life together, coming home after our wedding, going to the hospital with my wife the night before our son was born and many more – some good and some not so good.

Last week, I saw my cousin who lives in Israel. I had not seen him in years; my first memories are when he was just a toddler. An innocuous memory I have of him popped into my head. I shared it with him, and he smiled politely, not knowing what to say and obviously not remembering the moment I was referring to.

My 8-year-old son (BR) is learning how to ride a bike. It’s proving particularly difficult – lack of balance? lack of patience? I remember when one of my older brothers taught me how to ride a bike. It was a sunny day. I remember feeling proud of myself and grateful to him. So, I am excited to see my son begin riding on his own and hope it will be meaningful to him. I watched BR next to my younger son (SJ). They were together and smiling. I stared happily at my children and tried to burn the vision onto my human CD drive/brain. Maybe it worked, and it will be part of my memory. I don’t know.

I still don’t know what makes a memory. I’m pretty sure it’s a lot of things that can’t be quantified. For now, I’ll listen to that Bon Jovi song, Make A Memory, and try to run through that CD of a brain of mine another time.