HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1980-06-25, Page 2WEDNESDAY, JUNE 18, 1980
Serving BrUssels and the surrounding conimunity.
Published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario
By McLean Bros. Publishers Limited'
Evelyn'Kennedy - Editor Pat Langlois - Advertising
Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and
Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association,
Subscriptions (in advance) Canada $10.00 a Yea.
Others $20.00 a Year. Single Copies 2S cents:each.
410M,Pmpik.,
Nitiotioei`
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By Bill Smiley.
The: -$Chool.
Let's say thanks
Events, in the community are booming. When summer hits Brussels,
it seems like there's an organization out there every weekend,
sponsoring an event.
Brussels is even busy during the week with, events like church
suppers. Just during this past week alone', there was a church supper,
a. variety concert, an antique car show and flea market and Decoration
Day services.
It's good that a small place like Brussels has many o.rganizations to
sponsor events for the enjoyment of the community.
Probably the organizations are rarely thanked for the efforts they
have put into those events. It's up to the community in general to show
its appreciation to the people who sponsor activities for everyone.
Often people send letters to the editor of the weekly paper indicating
how much they enjoyed a certain event in the community. Rarely does
the Brussels Post receive such letters, with the exception, maybe, of
those. who attended the Centennial in .1972.
The Post would enjoy printing such letters and no doubt, the letters
would be appreciated by the organizations involved.
To the editor: • Teacher appreciated. .
The school my children go to, is losing a
teacher, that I feel has contributed a lot of
talent and hard work, not only to the school
but also to the community.
He has given of himself to help make
concerts etc. for the school and also the
home and school he has put hours of his own
time into these things to make them more
entertaining.
He is also a teacher who can keep order in
his classroom without losing self control.
But this teacher is leaving and I feel he
should be let know how much we appreciate
what he has done for our children the school
the home and school and also the parents.
I am now led to believe that the home and
school has been told not to do anything
special for him, as it would not be fair to
other teachers who have and will be
sometimes leaving the school.
' But I feel, and am sure that others do too,
that if a person puts a lot more into a job
than is called fothe should be let know it was
appreciated.
And cutting into the grade eight's
graduation night was not the time to show
appreciation. This night is for them not the
Teachers Myself I feel Principals and also
Teachers should not be allowed to stay for
too many years in one school, of course this
is my opinion.
How many parents agree with me?
Signed a concerned parent and-taxpayer
I'd like to be able to say that the end of
year for a teacher is, fraught with sadness, as -
the delicate flowers you have nurtured
'during the year (and most of whom have
turned to weeds,) leave you.
Not so., Rather is it a lifting of several
stones from a man who is being "pressed"
to confess. The pressing was an old-fashion:
ed method in which ever-heavier stones
were placed on a man's chest until he said
"uncle", or "Yeah, !said God didn't exist,"
or, "Yup, I know where the jewels are."
Not so. On the last day of school a teacher
walks out of the shoe factory, which most
schools resemble, and is beholden to no ,
man.
Except his wife, kids, dog, car, boat, bank
manager, garden. But it's better than being
beholden to a lot of gobbling young turkeys
whose chief aim in life is to destroy your
emotional equilibrium, and a gaggle of
administrators whose chief aims in life are
discipline, attendance, dress, drugs, and the
entire mid-Victorian world that is crumbling
around them.
Things have changed quite a bit in the
twenty years I've been teaching. In my first
year, my home form gave me a present at
Christmas and another at the end of the
year.
This went on for some time. They may
have: thought I was a dull old tool, but we
parted with mutual respect and good wishes
for a happy summer. There was always a
gift: one year a bottle of wine and three golf
balls, another year a table lighter that didn't
work; another year"a-pen and pencil set with
thermometer that still works.
By golly, in those first years, there was a
little sadness. Joe had turned from a gorilla
into a decent lad, hiding his better instincts
behind a mop of hair. Bridget had turned
from a four-eyed eager beaver into a bra-less
sex symbol. I wished them well, unreserved-
ly.
Nowadays, if my home form gave me a
present on the last day, the first thing I
would do would be to send it to the local
bomb squad. If they cleared it, I would open
it with tweezers and a mask, wondering
which it contained: dog or cat excrement.
Ah, shoot, that's not true either. They
might put an ice-pick in my tires, set a
thumbtack on my chair when I wasn't
looking, write the odd obscenity in their
textbooks, two words, with my last name the
second one, but they wouldn't really do
anything obnoxious.
Just because I thumped Barney three
times this year with my arthritic right fist
doesn't . mean that we both believe in
corporal punishment. We're buddies, and
I'm going to keep an eye on my cat this
summer in case it's strangled.
And little Michelle doesn't really hate my
guts, even though she deliberately stabbed
herself in the wrist with a pen on the last day
of school, came up to my desk,. •looked me
straight in the eye, sprinkled blood all over
my desk and pants, and asked, "Are you
sure I have to write the final exam?"
I'm kidding, of course: ThuSe kids in my
home form look on -me as a father. .Not
exactly as a father confessor, mind you, or a
kindly old father. More the type of father
whom you put the boots to when he comes
home drunk and falls at your,eager feet.
In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they give .
me a present on our last day. Perhaps a
cane; possibly a hearing aid. Presented by
Robin, an angelic-looking little blonde who
kicks Steve, just ahead of her, right behind
the knee-caps in the middle of the 'national
anthem, and makes him fall forward;kicking
backward.
The' more I think of them the more
nostalgic 'I get for 'the year we've spent
together. At least, I am spent. They're not
They haven't invested anything, so there's
nothing to spend.
On second thought, 'I'm not a father figure
to them. I'm 'a grandfather figure. In the last
few weeks of school, before it was decided
who would be recommended, and who would
have to write the final, I noticed a definite
increase in'solicitude and kindness.
If I dropped my book from senile, hands,
they would pick it up, and instead of
throwing it out the window, would hand it to .
me gravely.
And they became nicer to each other,
probably out of consideration for my
increasing sensibility. Instead of tripping the
girls as they, went to their seats, the huge
boys would pick them up and carry them.
Instead of throwing a pen like a dart when
someone wanted to borrow one, they would
take off their boot, put the pen in it, and
throw the boot, so the pen wouldn't be lost in
the .souffle.
And speaking of scuffles, there have been
very few of late. Oh, the other day, there was
a little one, when Tami, five-feet-minus,
grabbed Todd, six-feet-plus, and shoved him-
out the window, second-storey: No harm
done. He was able to grasp the sill, and
when she stomped on his fingers, managed
to land on his feet, some distance below, in
the middle of a spruce tree. -
Maybe it's all been worth it. They haven't
learned much, but I have, and that's what
education is all about.
Three years from now, I'll meet them
somewhere, on the street, in a pub, in jail.
The boys will have lost their 14 year old
ebullience and the girls will be pregnant,
and we'll smile and love each other.
Behind the scenes
by Keith Roulston
There's no free lunch. It , was an expres-
sion to warn us that we couldn't expect to get
something for nothing and was overused
back in the days when people thought
government could solve all our problems.
It's a phrase that can apply to so many
areas of life though. For everything there is
a price, though the price is often not in
monetary terms. Every time we try to
improve our lives we also lose something.
We have for the last century set ourselves
on a course to give us less work, more
security and greater comfort and more
freedom. We have achieved it all, and yet we
are not happy. We have replaced the old
worries with new ones.
Look at the results of some of the battles.
We have gained comfort and leisure times
through industry. We have all kinds of
gadgets to make our lives easier, to
mechanize our tasks at work and at home
and leave us more time for the things we
enjoy. But say that leisure time would be
filled with fishing and take a look at the cost
of the leisure-producing industry. One after
another the lakes filled with fish that proved
a northern mecca are dying, the result of
acid rain, mercury poisoning or some other
by-product of industry.
We love the freedom the automobile gives
es to take of to those northern resorts any
time we want, or zip down to the city for
some shopping. But we pay a price for that
freedom. Every year thousands die in the
province because of the car. If the death toll
was as high from some disease, we would be
in a panic and have all the powers of medical
research at work on a cure, but with the
'automobile we accept the cost. As if the
deaths weren't enough we also put up with
pollution of our air and the growing amount
of our precious soil used up by highways and
parking lots and other necessary accouter-
ments to the automobile society.
Some people want to live in the city
because they can't stand to do without all the
services the city provides: good shopping,
excellent social and Cultural life. But they
pay the cost in quality of life another way:
polluted air, overcrowding, high-cost hous-
ing. Some of us prefer the country way of life
but pay for it with a lack 'of variety in job
opportunities, and poorer choice in shopping
or entertainment possibilities.
But those are all quite evident tradeoffs.
We have many other, less visible costs. We
have tried for hundreds of years to put more
justice into our society but that too has had
its cost. For many years workers • were
exploited by industrial bosses whose main
concern was making the best profit possible.
Working conditions were often dangerous
because the owner of the business cared
more about profit than the lives of the
workers. Wages were low. Hours were long.
Life was miserable. The answer came when
the workers began to work together, to form
unions so the boss couldn't play them off one
against another. The unions fought bloody
battles against the companies for their right
to a better life. Often governments took the
part of the boss and police got invo":41
battling the strikers.
Today those battles seem to have been
centuries ago, not decades. A great deal of
justice has been won and all people, whether
members of unions or not, have benefitted.
But not without cost. Today it isn't just the
bosses who are hurt when a union decides it
has to strike to win what it considers justice
for its members. Postal strikes, airline
strikes, railway strikes, even police and
firemen's strikes, they all affect every
person in society. We are all held up to
ransom to get justice for 'the workers. But
what about justice to us?
We wallow in red tape today and curse the
men who made the laws that caused the red
tape. But we often forget that for just about
every law on the books ther was a demand
for that law made by ordinary citizens. On
one hand we hear people angry because the
government• doesn't move foot enough to
right some wrong in society but on theother
hand we hear the same people screaming
about big government, bureaucracy and red
tape. The red tape is the cost we pay for the
legislation we wanted to protect us from this
or that threat. We wanted protection from
unemployment, and bought it with bureau-
cracy. We wanted security from unforeseen
medical problems and, bought it with high
taxes and big government. We wanted
protection from unscrupulous manufacturers
who made cheap merchandise, often dan-
gerous to our health and a drain on our
pocketbooks; we paid for it in an increasing
amount of red tape in the making of things
and thus greater costs to all in order to
eliminate the cheaters.
We want freedom from being robbed,
murdered or raped in the streets. We must
pay for that freedom by loss of certain
freedoms to the state through its, police. We
want instead greater individual freedom?
Then we must be prepared to sacrifice , some
of the personal safety we are given by police
and security forces.
For' everything there is a price. Life is a
scale that is always balanced. If we want
something more in one side of the scale we
must put something in the other as I
balance. We should remember it the next
time we want sonsething. •