HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1981-06-24, Page 2Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association, Ontario
Weekly Newspaper Association and The Audit Bureau of
Circulation. Subscription rates:
Canada $12 a year (in advance)
outside Canada $25 a year (in advance)
Single copies - 30 cents each
Authorized as second class mail by Canada
Post Office. Registration Number 0562.
519-887-6641 Box 50,
Wessels, Ontario
NOG 1H0
4,,,,RFFR244„ NFfr
A R ERS ASS
1872
OBrussels Post
BR iI. SE4S
Established 1872 •
Serving Brussels and the surrounding community
Published at BRUSSELS, ONTARIO
every Wednesday morning
by McLean Bros. Publishers Limited
Andrew Y. McLean, Publisher
Evelyn. Kennedy, Editor
Y.' ilk 'it , Pit '74i . t`: "' '7, itP7 •71 ,4 4FISIre . I' •
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 24, 1981
Let's keep it up!
If you have walked down the main street of Brussels lately, you've
probably noticed some very definite improvements..
Businesses have been flking up, painting up and generally lending
themselves to the idea of the pretty village that Brussels is supposed to
be.
It's a good idea to make these improvements now with Morris
Township's 125th birthday coming up and since all the major celebrations
are to be held in Brussels.
Let those merchants who haven't made any improvements to their
store sit up and take notice of those who have and consider what they
might be doing to their own building to make it look more attractive.
After the Morris Township celebrations are over, Brussels should keep
up with the neat appearance, thereby deservedly earning the reputation
of the prettiest village in Ontario.
To the editor:
Book sale organizer
says thanks
On Saturday, June 6 the Blyth Centre for this year. Authors Penny Kemp and James
the Arts sponsored their annual used book Reaney gave readings of some of their
sale at Memorial Hall in Blyth. This year, material in the art gallery on the afternoon of
the response of the citizens of Huron County the sale, and a display of early children's
made this fund-raising event which provides book illustrations was loaned to us for this
revenue for the operating account of the occa sion by The Gallery, Stratford.
Blyth Summer Festival a total success.
A new dimension was added to this event
A bake sale and luncheon counter also
Please turn to page 3
- t*IOVU1,4$*1 ,k
.,,..01101•••
10.1$4***1.
Behind the scenes
by Keith Roulston
Strike season
Summer; the time when the flowers,
bikinis and the mosquitos come out...and of
course strikers.
Qur annual postal strike may start next
week unless God, Trudeau or san ity
intervene and since the last possibility
seems to be out we can only hope for one of
the first two to come to our rescue
The baseball players are already out on
strike. It didn't matter much to those of us
who could only watch on CB C television
anyway because NABET, the union of
technicians at C.B.C. had sabbotaged most
of the ball games so far this spring before
they finally walked out completely a month
or so ago.
All of us have our lives badly disrupted by
these endless strikes. For several years
when I was in the newspaper business we
had to annually figure out how to get
newspapers to people when there was a
postal strike. Now in the theatre business I
have to worry about how to sell thousands of
tickets to people without being able to use
the mails. Some people unfortunately are in
even worse position: their very mental
health is threatened by withdrawal symp-
toms from baseball addiction.
Rather than the disruption, the headaches
and ulcers that strikes cause, the thing that
bugs me most is the self-righteousness of
unionists and their political allies. Now I
have no doubt of the need for unions. I can
read by history books as well as anybody and
I know that bare ly a half century ago some
men were becoming millionaires, establish-
ing family fortunes,, by exploiting other
people. People were forced to work long
hours, often even had their lives endangered
by horrid safety conditions because making
the job safer would cut into the bosses
profits. I know that when workers tried to do
so mething about it they were told the boss
could always find a dozen more people who
were willing to work under those conditions.
I know that when they tried to form unions
the bosses often hired security guards to
beat them up.
I also know that there are still employers
with a streak of that kind of thing in them
today. The movie Norma Rae showed just
how tough the battle still is in some corners
of the U.S. where exploitive employers have
moved so they can relive the "good old—
days".
But, just b ecause things were t ough in
the past, and just because there are still a
few uncivilized employers left does not mean
that the unions are always on the side of
right0truth and motherhood as they and their
supporters would have us believe. The
unionists have listened so long to their own
rhetoric and history that they seem to
believe that in any conflict they are on the
side of justice and the employer is one of
Lucifer's, lieutenants,
Pardon me if I show my redneck, conserv-
ative background when I find it hard to feel
too much sense of grievance on behalf of
professional baseball players who earn an
everage $100,000 a year for six months work,
I'm sorry if Urn not right thinking enough
that I can feel the employer is some inhuman
clod because he won't give a $1.70 raise to
the poor, impoverished postal workers who
have a starting salary of only $9.30 an hour.
I am even wrong-headed enough to think
that the unions are in the wrong sometimes.
Take the case of the hit play Maggie and
Pierre which played in our area earlier this
spring. The opportunity camed for the play
to move into the Royal Alexandra Theatre in
Toronto, one of the largest theatres in the
city so one that is normally held only for
American touring shows naturally. The stay
was to be for only five performances. The
stage hands union insisted that since the
original set was built by non-union people
the set had to be rebuilt from scratch. An
offer was made to pay the stage hands for
the time they would have spenc building the
set but keep the old set to at least save the
cost of materials but the u'.uon wouldn't go
along with that. The result was an
expenditure of $11,000 for five performances
of the show.
Or take NABET, the CBC's union. NABET
isn't fighting over money in its fight with
CBC. It is instead fighting over the right to
decide programming at CBC. The network,
you see, wants to buy more programming
from independent producers across Canada.
It's a plan that makes sense,(that in itself in
a miracle coming from CBC) too much sense
for the union, Independent programming
producers would spread out the production
of programs, help cut down on the massive
bureaucracy 'at CBC, reduce the pressure on
CBC studios and facilities and the need to
build expensive new studios.. It would also
however, mean that the Union which
operates only at CBC would not have
jurisdiction over programming produced
outside the corporation. That of course is
impossible.
I mean surely we can see that the poor,
downtrodden workers must have justice.
Let's not forget about excellence
Sugar and spice
By Bill Smiley
In thirty plus years as an editor, a parent,
and a teacher, I hav,,'. been inundated
(though not quite drowned) by several waves
of self-styled "reform" of our educational
system, especially that of Ontario.
Each wave has washed away some of the
basic values in our system and left behind a
heap of detritus, from which teachers and
Students eventually emerge, gasping for a
breath of clean air.
Most of the "massive" reforms in our
system are borrowed from the U.S., after
thirty or forty years of testing there have
proven them dubious, if not worthless.
We have borrowed from the pragmatist,
John Dewey, an American, who had some
good ideas, but tried to put them into. mass
production, an endearing but not necessary
noble trait of our cousins below the border.
We have tried the ridiculous, "See, Jane
vomit," sort of thing which completely
ignores the child's demand for heroes and
Witches and shining maidens, and things
that go bump in the night.
We have tried "teaching the whole
child", a' process in which the teacher
becomes father/mother, uncle/aunt, grand-
father/grandma, psychiatrist, buddy, con-
fidant, and football to kick around, while the
kid does what he/she damn -well -pleases,
And we Wonder about teacher "binli-out,"
We have tried a system in which the
children choose froth a sort of Pandora's box
what subjects they Would like to take, and
giving them to a credit for each subject to
which they are "exposed", whether or not
they have learned anything in it.
That was a bit of a disaster. Kids, like
adults, chose the things that were '`fun",
that were "easy", that didn't have exanS.
that allowed them to express their indivi-
duality."'
New courses were introduced with the
rapidity of rabbits breeding. A' kid who was
confident that he would be a great brain
surgeon took everything from basket-
weaving to bird watching because.they were
fun.
And suddenly, at about the age of
seventeen, he/she discovered that it was
necessary to know some science, mathem,
rnaticS. Latin, History and English to
become a brain surgeon (or a novelist, or a
playwriter, or an engineer, etc.).
There are very few jobs open in basket-
weaving and bird-watching or World Relig-
ions or another couple of dozen I could
name, but won't for fear of being beaten to
death by a tizzy of teachers the day this
column appears.
The universities, those sacrosanct institu-
tions, where the truth shall make you free,
went along with the Great Deception, They
lowered their standards, in a desperate
scramble for live bodies. They Competed for
students With all the grace of merchants in
an Armenian bazaar.
Another swing of the pendulum. Parents
discovered that their kids knew something
about a lot of things, but not much about
anything. They got than.
The universities, a little red in the lade,
suddenly and virtuously announced that
many high school graduates were illiterate,
which was a lot of crap. They - were the
people who decided that a second language
was not necessary They were ' the people
who accepted studnets with a mark of 50-in,
English, which means the kid actually failed,
but his teacher gave him a credit.
Nobody, in the new system, really fa
L
led.
If they mastered just less than half the ork,
got a 48 per cent, they were raised to 50. If
they flunked every subject they took; they
were transferred to another "level," where
they could succeed, and even excell. -:.
The latest of these politieially-inspired,
slovenly-researched reforms in Ontario is
called SERF', and it Sounds just like, and is
just like NERD.
Reading its contents carefully, one comes
to the conclusion that if Serp is accepted, the
result will be a great leveller. Out of one side
of "its mouth it suggests that education be
compressed. by abandoning of Grade 13,
and out of the other side, that education be
expanded by adding a lot of new things to
the curriculum. Flow can you compress
something and expand it at the same' tithe?
Only a commission on edUcation could even
suggest Such a thing.
There will be lots of money for "Special -
Education" in the new plan. There'will be
less money for excellence. Special Education
is educational jargon for teaching stu.„pid
kids. Bright kids are looked down upon as
an "elite" group, and they should be put in
their place.
. The universities would enjoy seeing
Grade 13 • disappear. • That would mean
they'd have a warm body for four'years, at a
cost to the student of about $000 a year,
instead of three.
I'' ar!L not an old fogey', I am not a
reactionary. I believe in change. Anything
thafdaeS notchange becomes static or dies.
Ideas that refuse to change become des-
sicated.
I am not against spending lets of money to
teach stupid kids, or emotionally distiarbed
kids. But I atn squarely against any move
toward squelehing the brightest and best of
our youth, and sending off to university
people who are in that extremely Vulnerable
stage - of half-adolescent, half-adult, and
turfing them into clases of 206 or 300, where
they are no more than a cypher on the books
of a so-called hall of learning,
And I have the proof right before me, in
the form of several brilliant essays by Grade
13 students, better than anything I ever
wrote, who have had a chance to come to
terms with themselves and with life, in a
small class, with a teacher who knows, likes,
and encourages them, rather than a remote
figure at a podium.
Write a letter to.. the editor!