Blog #11 (Only 1075 to go!): Clichés to Live By!
This could make some of you sick with envy, but I must tell you that for 25 years, everyday I drove Frank Raispis to, and frequently from, school. I also have to tell you that it was all that you might imagine.
There was a lot of casual conversation, laughing as we relived old Jack Benny radio programs, reflected on events at school, and, not infrequently, I'd ask him about the classical derivations of words. For those of you who know Frank well, you’ll also recognize one of his habits. He will start an answer, then stop talking as he formulates the rest of his thoughts. For my part, I would pretty-much stop breathing until he started to talk again. More than once, I nearly drove off of the road, light-headed from lack of oxygen.
But I digress. One of the great joys of the experience for me was getting a better understanding of what Frank’s personal philosophy was. It was never presented as a formal tenet. He would simply state an opinion or respond to a question about how he felt on some issue, school related or just life in general.
On one occasion, he was reacting negatively about something, then suddenly stopped and scolded himself for failing to view another person's motive in a positive light. Over that time, as we chatted, I compiled a list of “Clichés to Live By”, a collection of principles that we thought would be good to follow. Frank would give me his assessment of some life's-lesson, and I would rephrase it and write it down.
Rule # 1: Assume the best motive behind each person's action.
I must admit that, while rule #1 is not as easy at it might seem, I do try to follow it. I also recognize its counter-part which says, "No matter how cynical I get (about society), I never seem to be able to keep up."
One more Frank story; one that I've told before: Many years ago, Fr. Meirose, Fr. Menke, and I were passing a place in northern Wisconsin where Frank was vacationing*. We stopped in to visit him for a few days. One of the mornings, I saw Frank picking berries for a dessert treat he was preparing for that evening. I asked him what he was thinking about as he went through that monotonous task. He said, as he picked each berry, he wondered whether that particular berry would be the best berry he'd pick that day. Then he'd move to the next berry with the same thought.
I was fascinated that a scholar and award-winning educator would be thinking about the quality of each individual berry as he picked them, but I set the thought aside as just "interesting". Upon further reflection, I realize how critical that "skill" is in Frank's make-up, and how hard it is for some people (me) to master. In theater, I think it's called "being in the moment". Again, not as easy as it seems.
*For those of you old enough, it was an island owned by Ernie Schmidt's family. Ernie was a math teacher at Ignatius from the mid-40's until he died
on the first day of school in 1966.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Father Menke
Blog #10--(Only 1066 to go!): Fr. Menke
After nearly fifty years of association with Saint Ignatius High School/College Prep, I have met, and enjoyed the friendship of many Jesuits, but none more so than Father George Menke, S.J. I was excited when I received an email from Mike Ulmer (’72), containing a newspaper article about Fr. Menke. Mike lives in Indianapolis and found this article in the Indianapolis Star.
The following is a brief summary of Mr./Fr. Menke‘s history at Saint Ignatius:
Mr. Menke, as he was called in 1967, came to Ignatius as a scholastic. He left in 1974 to complete his studies for the priesthood. After ordination, he returned in 1977 for 20 years before taking on his next assignment at Brebeuf in Indianapolis. Over those 30 years, he was the freshmen basketball team coach for one year, my assistant as athletic director for two years, and soccer coach for underclass boys and girls teams for many years, all the while teaching Spanish.
He was pure Cincinnati, saying, “Please?”, when he meant, “What?”, and hassling me about why the Cincinnati Reds were VASTLY superior to the Cubs. Our friendship grew rapidly when he was the freshmen basketball coach and as assistant athletic director. My years as AD were interesting. The school was low on funds. I had neither the training nor experience for the job, and I was suppose to be the “boss” of Dr. Malliard, Fr. “Moos” and Bob Gabric, among others. Each was a very successful coach, but very demanding. George, bless his soul, was there to back me up and, not infrequently, pick me up. It wasn’t pretty, but we survived...barely.
Over his years, there were many stories told...lovingly...about Father, but one of my favorites will probably have the most meaning if you knew him; it's an example of his spirit and loyalty. After "Mister" Menke stopped coaching the freshmen b-ball team, he became a permanent fixture at the scorer's table during the games. Terry Smyrniotis ('72) reminded me of how George would holler, "Judas Priest, Ref!" after a questionable call. Since George was sitting near the announcer's "mike", his dulcet tones would fill the gym "from on high", as if it were the Lord Himself speaking. When the assemblage finally realized what they had just heard, and they were able to get their heart rates below 150, there was a round of giggles and smiles from everyone but the refs.
In 1977, he returned as “Fr. Menke”, taught Spanish and became the soccer coach for the underclassmen, then went on to Brebeuf. According to the article, Fr. Menke has taken on an iconic status at Brebeuf High School.
It seems to be a part of the human condition that, when people's paths separate, they lose contact. Having read the article reminded of what a good friend Fr. George Menke was to me and to Ignatius, and I'm pretty sure that I never told him that while he was here. I think I'll write him a note and tell him.
(I’ve included the code for the attachment, but I doubt that it’s going to be enough to allow someone to pull up that article. Maybe those of you more versed in electronic technology will be able to find it.
http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2011102030340
After nearly fifty years of association with Saint Ignatius High School/College Prep, I have met, and enjoyed the friendship of many Jesuits, but none more so than Father George Menke, S.J. I was excited when I received an email from Mike Ulmer (’72), containing a newspaper article about Fr. Menke. Mike lives in Indianapolis and found this article in the Indianapolis Star.
The following is a brief summary of Mr./Fr. Menke‘s history at Saint Ignatius:
Mr. Menke, as he was called in 1967, came to Ignatius as a scholastic. He left in 1974 to complete his studies for the priesthood. After ordination, he returned in 1977 for 20 years before taking on his next assignment at Brebeuf in Indianapolis. Over those 30 years, he was the freshmen basketball team coach for one year, my assistant as athletic director for two years, and soccer coach for underclass boys and girls teams for many years, all the while teaching Spanish.
He was pure Cincinnati, saying, “Please?”, when he meant, “What?”, and hassling me about why the Cincinnati Reds were VASTLY superior to the Cubs. Our friendship grew rapidly when he was the freshmen basketball coach and as assistant athletic director. My years as AD were interesting. The school was low on funds. I had neither the training nor experience for the job, and I was suppose to be the “boss” of Dr. Malliard, Fr. “Moos” and Bob Gabric, among others. Each was a very successful coach, but very demanding. George, bless his soul, was there to back me up and, not infrequently, pick me up. It wasn’t pretty, but we survived...barely.
Over his years, there were many stories told...lovingly...about Father, but one of my favorites will probably have the most meaning if you knew him; it's an example of his spirit and loyalty. After "Mister" Menke stopped coaching the freshmen b-ball team, he became a permanent fixture at the scorer's table during the games. Terry Smyrniotis ('72) reminded me of how George would holler, "Judas Priest, Ref!" after a questionable call. Since George was sitting near the announcer's "mike", his dulcet tones would fill the gym "from on high", as if it were the Lord Himself speaking. When the assemblage finally realized what they had just heard, and they were able to get their heart rates below 150, there was a round of giggles and smiles from everyone but the refs.
In 1977, he returned as “Fr. Menke”, taught Spanish and became the soccer coach for the underclassmen, then went on to Brebeuf. According to the article, Fr. Menke has taken on an iconic status at Brebeuf High School.
It seems to be a part of the human condition that, when people's paths separate, they lose contact. Having read the article reminded of what a good friend Fr. George Menke was to me and to Ignatius, and I'm pretty sure that I never told him that while he was here. I think I'll write him a note and tell him.
(I’ve included the code for the attachment, but I doubt that it’s going to be enough to allow someone to pull up that article. Maybe those of you more versed in electronic technology will be able to find it.
http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2011102030340
Monday, January 31, 2011
Box The End
Reminiscence # 9-Only 1067 to go: "Box the End"
In the musical comedy The King And I , Anna sings:
"It's a very ancient saying,
But a true and honest thought,
That if you become a teacher,
By your pupils you'll be taught."
I've already admitted that I was the freshmen football coach in the fall of '62. I'm not sure of the wisdom of identifying a player as "favorite", but judging by the fact that he was elected class president in his senior year, apparently he was the favorite of many. I'm referring to John Rowan.
Forty-nine years have faded my memory about that freshmen team and season, but, if I recall correctly, John was a co-captain and the defensive left-end. This "reminiscence", however, is not about praising John. Rather, it's about an incident, and how I learned a little bit more about teaching.
The learning-point started at our best-be-forgotten game against Gordon Tech, at that time a real powerhouse in the Catholic League. A problem that we had...one of many...was that our opponents were picking up huge gains running around John's side of the field. Each time John came off the field, I would go up to John and say, "John, Box the end!" Each time John assured me that he was "boxing the end". For those who don't understand the terminology, boxing-the-end was a phrase used to describe the path that the defensive end should take after the ball was snapped. I don't know if the terminology or technique is still used. Anyway, we lost. (Never mind what the score was; it's not pertinent to the story.)
Toward the end of John's senior year, he and I were standing watching an Ignatius baseball game when we got to talking about the freshmen football season. John told me that each time I'd implore him to "box the end", he'd go back on to the field, and, at the snap of the ball, he'd run up to the opposing end and punch him. Finally, he asked one of the other players what boxing-the-end meant. In fairness to John, I really don't think that it would have had much of an impact on the outcome if he had known the true meaning at the beginning of the game. I do wonder what the opposing end thought each time this guy ran up to him and punched him.
Nonetheless, from that time on, I came to realize that "words" don't necessarily mean the same thing to everybody. Now, when I teach my summer school math class to in-coming freshmen, one of the first lessons is a vocabulary list of math terms. I don't want them "boxing the end."
In the musical comedy The King And I , Anna sings:
"It's a very ancient saying,
But a true and honest thought,
That if you become a teacher,
By your pupils you'll be taught."
I've already admitted that I was the freshmen football coach in the fall of '62. I'm not sure of the wisdom of identifying a player as "favorite", but judging by the fact that he was elected class president in his senior year, apparently he was the favorite of many. I'm referring to John Rowan.
Forty-nine years have faded my memory about that freshmen team and season, but, if I recall correctly, John was a co-captain and the defensive left-end. This "reminiscence", however, is not about praising John. Rather, it's about an incident, and how I learned a little bit more about teaching.
The learning-point started at our best-be-forgotten game against Gordon Tech, at that time a real powerhouse in the Catholic League. A problem that we had...one of many...was that our opponents were picking up huge gains running around John's side of the field. Each time John came off the field, I would go up to John and say, "John, Box the end!" Each time John assured me that he was "boxing the end". For those who don't understand the terminology, boxing-the-end was a phrase used to describe the path that the defensive end should take after the ball was snapped. I don't know if the terminology or technique is still used. Anyway, we lost. (Never mind what the score was; it's not pertinent to the story.)
Toward the end of John's senior year, he and I were standing watching an Ignatius baseball game when we got to talking about the freshmen football season. John told me that each time I'd implore him to "box the end", he'd go back on to the field, and, at the snap of the ball, he'd run up to the opposing end and punch him. Finally, he asked one of the other players what boxing-the-end meant. In fairness to John, I really don't think that it would have had much of an impact on the outcome if he had known the true meaning at the beginning of the game. I do wonder what the opposing end thought each time this guy ran up to him and punched him.
Nonetheless, from that time on, I came to realize that "words" don't necessarily mean the same thing to everybody. Now, when I teach my summer school math class to in-coming freshmen, one of the first lessons is a vocabulary list of math terms. I don't want them "boxing the end."
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Class of 1967
Blog #8--(Only 1068 to go!): The Class of '67
It's not uncommon for alumni to meet regularly with members of their graduating class, usually consisting of friends they had when they were students. There is one class that I find quite unique. From the title of this reflection, you'd probably guessed that it's the class of '67.
While they were students at Saint Ignatius, they had their share of successes and also “suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” like most other classes. What sets them apart, and makes them a favorite of mine, is what they’ve done in the last 15 years.
A sizeable subset (math speak) from the class of 1967 has regular gatherings, and the “guest list” is only limited only by class members whose email addresses or phone numbers they have. In February, 2010, they were the first alumni class to meet at the Fornelli Alumni Hall for a pizza dinner, followed by watching an Ignatius basketball game. They were so taken with the room that they decided to chip in for furniture and other accessories to make the room even nicer. To that end, they intend to have a BBQ cook-out in spring
Last year, they attended the Saint Ignatius Golf Outing as group, went to a White Sox baseball game, and saw racing at Hawthorne Race , during which the 7th race was named in their honor.
Besides planning to buy furniture for the alumni room, they sponsored one of their classmates, Gus Mauro, in a 30 mile bike ride, contributing $3000 to the school’s financial aid program. For the record, their purpose is not fund-raising. The main thrust is to get together, maintain their friendships and catch up with how each one is doing. Even class members who live far away, keep in touch via email (of course).
Not every idea works. Since each of the men turned "60" (Yikes!!!) a year ago, one idea was to have a group birthday party. I thought it was a great idea, but it didn’t get off the ground. That didn't dampen the spirit of these loyal Ignatians. While, more often than not, the idea for the gatherings starts with Joe "I've never had a thought that I haven't acted on." Fisher , that's not always the case, and everyone contributes to the success of the events with their attendance and ideas.
The "efficient cause" (Is that one of St. Thomas Aquinas' "causes"?) is Marc Petrone, who sends out the notices for each event via email (of course).
So, in closing, I say: Keep going, guys! You’re doing great.If there are any other members of the class of '67 that want to be a part of this group, let me or Sean Maccready know. We'll get your name to Marc.
It's not uncommon for alumni to meet regularly with members of their graduating class, usually consisting of friends they had when they were students. There is one class that I find quite unique. From the title of this reflection, you'd probably guessed that it's the class of '67.
While they were students at Saint Ignatius, they had their share of successes and also “suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” like most other classes. What sets them apart, and makes them a favorite of mine, is what they’ve done in the last 15 years.
A sizeable subset (math speak) from the class of 1967 has regular gatherings, and the “guest list” is only limited only by class members whose email addresses or phone numbers they have. In February, 2010, they were the first alumni class to meet at the Fornelli Alumni Hall for a pizza dinner, followed by watching an Ignatius basketball game. They were so taken with the room that they decided to chip in for furniture and other accessories to make the room even nicer. To that end, they intend to have a BBQ cook-out in spring
Last year, they attended the Saint Ignatius Golf Outing as group, went to a White Sox baseball game, and saw racing at Hawthorne Race , during which the 7th race was named in their honor.
Besides planning to buy furniture for the alumni room, they sponsored one of their classmates, Gus Mauro, in a 30 mile bike ride, contributing $3000 to the school’s financial aid program. For the record, their purpose is not fund-raising. The main thrust is to get together, maintain their friendships and catch up with how each one is doing. Even class members who live far away, keep in touch via email (of course).
Not every idea works. Since each of the men turned "60" (Yikes!!!) a year ago, one idea was to have a group birthday party. I thought it was a great idea, but it didn’t get off the ground. That didn't dampen the spirit of these loyal Ignatians. While, more often than not, the idea for the gatherings starts with Joe "I've never had a thought that I haven't acted on." Fisher , that's not always the case, and everyone contributes to the success of the events with their attendance and ideas.
The "efficient cause" (Is that one of St. Thomas Aquinas' "causes"?) is Marc Petrone, who sends out the notices for each event via email (of course).
So, in closing, I say: Keep going, guys! You’re doing great.If there are any other members of the class of '67 that want to be a part of this group, let me or Sean Maccready know. We'll get your name to Marc.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
My Good Fortune
Blog #7--(Only 1069 to go!): My Good Fortune This reflection is prompted by a very nice note that I received from a friend, who happens also to be the mother of a former student of mine. Her note reminded me of how fortunate I've been to spend my life teaching at Saint Ignatius.
The story of how I came to teach at Saint Ignatius High School (as it was known then) isn't particularly interesting to anyone except me, but I'd have to say that it was the result of many coincidences and much good fortune. I didn't even know that there was a Saint Ignatius High School until just before I signed the contract. Being a north-sider, the only "Saint Ignatius" that I was aware of was the parish near Devon and Sheridan.
I have often said that if you can't teach at Saint Ignatius, you can't teach. The truth is that I've never taught at any other high school, so that's just speculation on my part. More than a few teachers from other schools have chided me, making the point that anyone can teach "smart" kids. I KNOW!!! AIN'T IT GREAT?
But I digress (yet again). To me, what makes Ignatius a great place to work is the quality of the people with whom I have come in contact. This includes students, parents, colleagues, administrators and staff. My joy and satisfaction wasn’t tied to working with “smart kids”. It was linked to the support of those around me. At Ignatius, I received that support as well as assistance, friendship, counsel and even the "benefit of the doubt" when things didn‘t go as planned.
When Frank Raispis and I formulated a list of "clichés to live by”, rule #1 was, “View everyone’s actions in the best possible light.” Over my soon-to-be 50 year involvement with Saint Ignatius, the students have been respectful and the parents generally appreciative. Even when I fell short, most parents seemed to accept the fact that I was giving my best effort. In that time, I don’t think that I had even a dozen “uncom-fortable” encounters, and about half of those I felt were justified. It is true that not everyone has the same agenda, so, while I felt “innocent”, it was easy to understand the parent’s discontent. At parent conferences, I always felt that I was meeting with a friend; that’s a good feeling when you’re working with someone else’s child.
To sum up: Thank you, one-and-all.
The story of how I came to teach at Saint Ignatius High School (as it was known then) isn't particularly interesting to anyone except me, but I'd have to say that it was the result of many coincidences and much good fortune. I didn't even know that there was a Saint Ignatius High School until just before I signed the contract. Being a north-sider, the only "Saint Ignatius" that I was aware of was the parish near Devon and Sheridan.
I have often said that if you can't teach at Saint Ignatius, you can't teach. The truth is that I've never taught at any other high school, so that's just speculation on my part. More than a few teachers from other schools have chided me, making the point that anyone can teach "smart" kids. I KNOW!!! AIN'T IT GREAT?
But I digress (yet again). To me, what makes Ignatius a great place to work is the quality of the people with whom I have come in contact. This includes students, parents, colleagues, administrators and staff. My joy and satisfaction wasn’t tied to working with “smart kids”. It was linked to the support of those around me. At Ignatius, I received that support as well as assistance, friendship, counsel and even the "benefit of the doubt" when things didn‘t go as planned.
When Frank Raispis and I formulated a list of "clichés to live by”, rule #1 was, “View everyone’s actions in the best possible light.” Over my soon-to-be 50 year involvement with Saint Ignatius, the students have been respectful and the parents generally appreciative. Even when I fell short, most parents seemed to accept the fact that I was giving my best effort. In that time, I don’t think that I had even a dozen “uncom-fortable” encounters, and about half of those I felt were justified. It is true that not everyone has the same agenda, so, while I felt “innocent”, it was easy to understand the parent’s discontent. At parent conferences, I always felt that I was meeting with a friend; that’s a good feeling when you’re working with someone else’s child.
To sum up: Thank you, one-and-all.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
True Wealth
I love stories; I love hearing them and I love telling them. This story isn't about Christmas, but I think it's a part of what Jesus tried to tell us as He walked with us on Earth.
The Story: While a man of God was reciting his morning devotions near a small village, a poor peasant approached him. When the holy man saw him, he said, "Can I help you?"
The peasant said, "Father, where is it?"
The holy man asked, "Where is what?"
The peasant said, "Last night I had a dream that if I came here in the morning, you would give me a precious stone."
The holy man said, "Oh, yes". He reached into a cloth sack and pulled out the largest and most beautiful ruby any one had ever seen. He handed it to the peasant, and immediately went back to his prayers.
The peasant took the ruby and carried it home in hands with the same care as he might have had it been a small bird. When he got to his little hut, he placed it on his lone table and spent the rest of the day gazing upon it in adoration.
The next morning, when the holy man was deep in prayer, the peasant approached him again. When the holy man looked up, the peasant returned the ruby. The holy man asked him if something was wrong, and the peasant replied, "I want you to give me something more valuable than the ruby. I want you to tell me what it is that you know that made it so easy for you to give this gem to me."
True wealth is not determined by how much we have, but by how little we need.
I'm a big fan of Fr. Mark Link, and I recommend to you three of Fr. Link's books, Still Point, You, and The Merriest Christmas Book. The latter book is a wonderful source of stories and reflections on Christmas...very appropriate for this time of year. Have a very Merry Christmas and a great New Year.
Monday, November 29, 2010
K.I.S.S.
Blog #5 (Only 1071 to go!) K.I.S.S. Attention, class! (Sound of ruler hitting desk top to silence students). Today's lesson is about K.I.S.S...ing.
As an outsider looking in, I've been around many very smart people, and I've tried to discover their secret. How was Pat O'Mara so effective at controlling and teaching a class or Bob Gabric able to get so much from his players. How has Frank Raispis been so successful in virtually everything that he's attempted. Intelligence? yes! But there are many who could match their knowledge. However, I witnessed one common thread that that emerged with each of them...SIMPLICITY. They saw the simple solution.
At a tennis workshop quite a few years ago, I heard for the first time, but not the last, the expression "K.I.S.S." KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID encouraged coaches not to complicate their instructions or the strategies given to their players. Looking both forward and back from that point, I can see the wisdom in that short phrase as it applies to most of life.
My brother, an architect, helped me hang a sign on the outside of the Ignatius gym. I had figured that we’d have to drill holes into the wall and use huge bolts to secure it. John simply tied a rope to the top of the sign and weighted the rope down on top of the roof. It worked quite well. Then John suggested, “Always start with the simplest solution.”
A friend of mine, who was a high school all-state football player, and I were playing in a pick-up touch football game. Suddenly, a fight broke out between the players on the two teams. My friend was a pretty tough guy, but, when I looked up, I saw him walking away. I approached him, and told him that the other guys thought that he was "chickening out". He said, "I don't care. I came to play football. If they're not going to play, I'm going home." My friend had the ability to keep things simple.
Pat O'Mara, Bob Gabric, Frank Raispis. They all seemed to have that common component in their approach ...K.I.S.S. Was it their intelligence that allowed them to see the simple solution or on some intuitive level, they saw the simplest solution? Probably both.
When I look around at people who are dealing with some difficult situation in their lives, often...not always...it was the result of not abiding by that principle. K.I.S.S.
As an outsider looking in, I've been around many very smart people, and I've tried to discover their secret. How was Pat O'Mara so effective at controlling and teaching a class or Bob Gabric able to get so much from his players. How has Frank Raispis been so successful in virtually everything that he's attempted. Intelligence? yes! But there are many who could match their knowledge. However, I witnessed one common thread that that emerged with each of them...SIMPLICITY. They saw the simple solution.
At a tennis workshop quite a few years ago, I heard for the first time, but not the last, the expression "K.I.S.S." KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID encouraged coaches not to complicate their instructions or the strategies given to their players. Looking both forward and back from that point, I can see the wisdom in that short phrase as it applies to most of life.
My brother, an architect, helped me hang a sign on the outside of the Ignatius gym. I had figured that we’d have to drill holes into the wall and use huge bolts to secure it. John simply tied a rope to the top of the sign and weighted the rope down on top of the roof. It worked quite well. Then John suggested, “Always start with the simplest solution.”
A friend of mine, who was a high school all-state football player, and I were playing in a pick-up touch football game. Suddenly, a fight broke out between the players on the two teams. My friend was a pretty tough guy, but, when I looked up, I saw him walking away. I approached him, and told him that the other guys thought that he was "chickening out". He said, "I don't care. I came to play football. If they're not going to play, I'm going home." My friend had the ability to keep things simple.
Pat O'Mara, Bob Gabric, Frank Raispis. They all seemed to have that common component in their approach ...K.I.S.S. Was it their intelligence that allowed them to see the simple solution or on some intuitive level, they saw the simplest solution? Probably both.
When I look around at people who are dealing with some difficult situation in their lives, often...not always...it was the result of not abiding by that principle. K.I.S.S.
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