Unwashed Education

COMMENTS ABOUT EDUCATION

Ever ask a high school student to name the original 13 colonies. or to divide 99 by 2, or to describe the function of a 'verb' in a sentence? Try asking. Chances are good the replies will hint that our public schools are not getting the job done. Too many students are passing from grade to grade regardless of merit. Way too many finish high school with an inadequate knowledge of history, science, or philosophy. In fact, many can barely spell their own names, carry on an intelligent conversation, or make change for a dollar. In a word, our public schools have become a national disaster.

In recent decades there has been a change of the traditional male and female roles in our society. The traditional unit, the family, has changed forever. Today family members sail through life on bogus educations, credit cards, security blankets, cell phones and dreadful music. Since the middle of the twentieth century parenting responsibilities, particularly those that influence the education of children, have shifted outside of the home. Traditional gender roles as outlined in the Holy Bible have been replaced. Think about it. Children today actually do not know that:

--Men once ruled with the consent of women.

--Men once worked to support the family.

--Women once worked at homemaking and raising children.

During World War II, women had to work to support the war effort. The ties to raising children were made loose. Most marriage partners worked away from the home and the parenting responsibility shifted from parents to our public schools, daycare centers, churches, and elsewhere. School teachers were soon overwhelmed. Disciplinary problems increased as learning decreased. Children were turned over to the schools for a large part of their parenting - and the schools were unable to cope.

Think about it. Mom and Dad used to expect their children to graduate from High School, work a few years, find a mate and marry. In those days:

A = EXCELLENT B = GOOD C = MINIMUM ACCEPTABLE D = BELOW GRADE LEVEL F = FAILED

"C" graduates went to a trade school or got a job. "B" students went to a junior or state college, and "A" students entered a college or university. All students had to meet academic and social standards before advancing. Merit was theoretically the only component of successful progress.

Today it has been replaced by "political correctness". Civilized behavior, ethics, traditional values, and reward for achievement all went out the window. Advancement now depends more on race, gender, and place of birth. Teachers are expected to teach students who are clearly not prepared for their class, students that arrive with no desire to learn, distorted morals, and crude manors. In a classroom they are difficult to manage and have almost no respect for authority. They know that it doesn't matter how they act or what they learn - because they will pass to the next grade regardless.

Our public school system will continue to fail until merit is again required for advancement at all grade levels, and parents resume the responsibility for parenting.

END

Mr. or Mrs. Superintendent,

You know that tax supported Public Schools, at least in the larger cities and suburbs, no longer educate young people. You also know any step you take to change the entrenched system will be bitterly challenged. Experts agree that starting in the 1st grade American children enter the school system based on their mental and emotional health. From that point forward It is no longer politically correct to challenge students with a curriculum encouraging real and measurable educational development. Our elementary schools have become an authority replacement for parents and psychologists.

The shift of parental responsibility to elementary school teachers has not been successful. One of the principal reasons is their inability to discipline underachieving and misbehaving students. Parents no longer tolerate classroom discipline and yet they demand that their child not be held back until he or she meets the required educational standards. The inevitable result is that the bad students hold back the good ones.

Political correctness demands that classes be designed to meet the needs of the students capable of the lowest achievement level. As long as this continues, high performing grades A, B & C students will not be challenged to achieve more. The progressive system is rigged to pass students to the next grade level regardless of academic achievement.

By the time students reach intermediate or junior high school, only a few are adequately prepared. Most begin floundering on their way toward high school, and increasing gap between capable students and those who have fallen behind. The failing students, the ones that have not successfully accomplished the prerequisites for grade level subjects, simply can not succeed. They have been passed forward with low grades, but insufficient knowledge.

From about grade 7 forward the MAJORITY of public school students face the frustration of continuing failure. If their non-achievement isn't turned around by the 9th grade, it is too late for most of them. If they finish high school at all, they are not prepared for college or university classes. They are usually not prepared to enter the adult work force either. So these young people find themselves at the lowest economic level. Many never recover to lead a decent, contributing life.

To sum up, scholastic achievement must be the gauge of success starting in the elementary grades.

No student should pass to the next grade without a satisfactory level of achievement. Intermediate schools are the last place where students with poor grades can raise them. By the time they reach high school it is too late.

The key to a good education is the student's performance in intermediate schools.

Achieving the most important prerequisites happens in those grades. It won't happen unless:

• School teachers and administrators hold students responsible for unacceptable conduct.
• Students conform to school and grade level standards or be held back until they do.

END

SIDNEY'S WALK

A nervous young man walked into the office and told his boss he was going to quit and move on. He thanked the old boy for the job, but then told him that it just wasn't for him. He left the buisiness and walked about four blocks to his ratty motel room where he packed a small bag, surveyed the dingy place for moment, and threw a few bucks on the bed to cover what was due. He closed the door behind him and walked past the motel office and strode on down the road. Sidney walked past about a dozen businesses until the town and the sidewalk ended. He kept going away from town walking on the edge of the two lane asphalt road. His reasons for leaving town are irrelevant. He was simply fed up with damn near everything; his job, the dirty motel room, the lousy food served at the diner, the lack of girls in town, and most important, there was no future here for him. He needed to get away, change something, or hit somebody. The system had won. The small Minnesota town he was leaving was surrounded by miles of rolling green hills and forested land separated by small but prosperous looking farms. The land in this area is thought by the local people to be the most beautiful part of the state - and it is.
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Once a mile or two out of town Sidney kept walking. Traffic was light. One or truck car every twenty minutes. When one drove by with a roar and a whoosh, he didn't even look up. None slowed or stopped. Soon he had walked into open farm country. The day was warm, the sky was blue, and in the distance there was just a hint of a light grey haze above the horizon. Not sign of rain he decided. Ahead he saw a dirt farm road leading off to the right. It had been plowed not long ago but rain the previous week had caused the dirt surface to washboard. He turned off the asphalt onto the dirt road.
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A bent and rusted roadside sign tacked to a telephone pole said "Double Deal Township - 12 Miles - Population 802. Sidney had never been there and never heard of it. He wondered if it was big enough to have a motel? The dirt road was just wide enough for two cars to pass. He figured that the main traffic must be tractors going from field to field and pickup trucks headed to town. Like most plowed dirt farm roads, there was a low berm on either side left by the plow.
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Sidney was relieved to be walking away from things that had bothered him for a long time. He was quietly at peace walking in the sun toward something new. The day was pleasant and the air with it's vague smell of mowed grasses was invigorating. No traffic. The road was deserted. He walked for about 3 hours and not one car, truck or tractor went by in either direction. A ways back he had seen a man working a tractor in a distant field off to the left, but no other person had crossed his sight. He was quite alone and enjoyed the feeling.
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A couple more hours went by and he was getting tired. His feet were beginning to hurt and his stomach was rumbling. Despite eating a Snickers candy bar a ways back, he was hungry. He thought he might be getting close to Double Deal but could see no evidence of it. The buzz of afternoon insects was noticeable. Damn horseflies wouldn't leave him alone.
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He'd have to think about the immediate future and what he should do when he reached the town? The sun was disappearing fast. It would be dark when he arrived. He'd have to look for a cheap motel first thing. If none was available how would he find out if there was a room to rent someplace? Maybe he could ask around at a cafe or something.
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A half hour later it was almost dark. Still no town. He picked up his pace a little. Then in the dim remaining light he noticed a small creek about 100 yards away and barely visible behind a stand of trees. A barbed wire fence was at the road side. On one fence post there was a battered old sign with several bullet holes in it that said "No Trespassing". He didn't hesitate spreading the wire and stepping through. He was sure that no one worried about trespassing around here. Besides, who was there to see him? He walked into the stand of trees stepping over and around the underbrush, a few stumps.
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The creek was low in it's banks and slow moving. It was about 12 or 14 feet wide and the water looked deep and cold. In the fading light he could look up and down the creek about 50 feet from where he stood. Looking back where he came from he couldn't see the road at all. He found a place where the creek was not so deep in it's banks, knelt down, cupped his hands and took a sip. It tasted cool and fresh - so he took a larger drink. Then he rose and began slowly looking with care at his surroundings. He studied the forest of trees and their green canopy. He carefully made himself aware of the tangled underbrush and uneven ground covered with tall grasses. Sidney knew instinctively that this would be as good a place as any to set up camp for the night. He would then enter Double Deal in the morning, get some real breakfast, and find a place to roost for a spell.
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He set about gathering grasses and tamping them in a small hollow under a sheltering bank about 20 feet from the stream. The natural fold in the earth and it's bank would make a good spot to sleep for the night. He' be just fine unless it rained, and it didn't look like it was going to. He was very hungry. What might he do for food? Knowing it would be difficult to find any kind of food in the dark, he accepted the idea of remaining hungry until the morning. He walked over to the creek bank and sat down on a dead log and idly sucked on a long piece of grass. He thought about the times he had gone fishing in the past".
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The water was moving but the surface was flat and undisturbed in the moonlight. He noted a quick flap sound about 50 feet downstream. He looked toward it and saw rings of wavelets moving away from the point of the sound. It confirmed there were fish in this creek. There, over there, another flap. Oh yes, there were fish. If he could catch one in the morning he would have something for breakfast. He began thinking about just how he would do it with no string, hook or net. He thought hard about the problem. What would the Indians have done? Spears. Of course, spears. Satisfied, he yawned and went to sleep under a blanket of leaves and grass he had gathered.
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He woke in the morning just before dawn. Opened his eyes to a peaceful scene as it became light. The creek looked crystal clear. The surrounding woods appeared green and sheltering. As he lay there he thought about the small knife in his pocket. The woods were filled with straight young saplings. He rose, shook off the leaves, stretched and walked a half dozen paces before he found just what he needed. Before long he had fashioned a fairly good fishing spear. The air beginning to warm. He stood over a pooling area at the side of the creek and watched in the morning light as several fish rose to the surface to catch insects riding the water. The fish were not very big, but big enough for breakfast. He counted his attempts. After 26 thrusts of the spear he began to lose confidence, but on the 27th he got a solid hit. The fish was about 12 inches long. He knew that after he cleaned it and cut off the head and tail he would have about 8 inches of edible fish left. It would do.
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He had only 4 little paper matches left. He'd have to be very careful not to waste any. He gutted the fish and cleaned the scales. Then he threaded the fish on a thin sapling skewer and held it and set it aside. Then he gathered dead grasses and a pile of dry twigs, lit the tinder. It flamed easily and with authority. Quickly he added some small branches. Within a few minutes he had a respectable cooking fire. He held the skewer over the fire and the fish soon turned slightly brown. When it looked a little burned at the edges he figured it was thoroughly cooked. He enjoyed every bite.

By the time he finished the sun was up and the air was warming fast. He rinsed his face in the creek, put out the fire and returned to the road.
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And that's when Sidney's story really begins.

WHEN IS A WAR OVER

Is any time the right time to walk away from a war? Americans are confused. If the idea is to pursue complete annihilation of the enemy that would be the end point. Complete annihilation is not humane nor is it practical. Victory is when the enemy can no longer defend it self or threaten others. The American withdrawal from Viet Nam was a disgrace. We had the ability to render the enemy helpless and declare victory. Instead, we allowed political correctness to prevail and the focus on Victory was lost. Our military forces did not lose the Viet Nam war. American far left liberal politicians did. Now we are engaged with another enemy in Iraq. Since it began our enemy has changed from an organized military directed by a criminal regime, to an unorganized, non-military collection of demented religious individuals who perform terrorism based atrocities in the name of Islam. We have learned to our horror that these religious murderers have no rules, no humanitarian feelings, no conscience and no shame. They are waging a war of terrorism directed at the entire non-Muslim world, and operate without a definable structure other than the banner of Islam. They will be defeated. The world will adjust to this despicable new menace and learn to answer their tactics.

America, Britain, Australia and the other allies have won the war in Iraq. The enemy there is no longer a threat, the criminal regime is no longer in power, and the brutal dictator is dead. Acts of terror continue. Terrorism has yet to be defeated. This threat is more of a guerrilla type war and requires that our military forces adjust to new defensive and offensive tactics. If America and it's allies pull out of Iraq before it establishes a government that can deal with the terrorism within, the Iraqi people will continue to suffer. America may be able to claim victory in the original war, but it can not claim Victory in the war on terrorism. END

THE POLYWOG WIGGLE

The President delivered his State of the Union address last night. It was dominated - as expected - by the war in Iraq. This bloody war has become an issue of politics rather than principles for too many people. This is not good. Everyone seems anxious to blame Mr. Bush for rushing to war and failing to finish it. Sadly, it is the left wing liberal wing of the Democratic Party that seems not to comprehend the danger this our terrorist enemy poses. They have been joined recently in their criticism by a few renegade (for shame) Republicans. Most of these critics constantly test the political wind instead of thinking clearly and doing the right thing. TERRORISM is a fact and I do not understand their reluctance to face reality.

Going to war in Iraq was overwhelmingly the right thing to do - yet support is now dwindling. Only Conservative and Moderate Republicans and a few Moderate Democrats really understand what is at stake. All Americans should stand squarely behind Mr. Bush. Depending on your politics he may not be perfect in all areas of governance, but he is easily the best man for leading our nation in a war that potentially could destroy us. The anti-war sentiment in America is wrong. Long ago someone said "the only time there will be no more war is when the last man is dead". Each person possesses the same elements of life yet remains quite different any other person. This is a proven natural fact that will never change. And each person also interprets life experiences differently. We all have a different level of energy, ambition, and characteristics of honesty. We all have within us some level of envy, jealousy, greed and so forth. Because of these differences between individuals, the world's population is in constant flux. Nations dealing with each other always experience stress and differences of opinion. War between people and nations is an extreme method of resolution. Humanity elevates society. Some form of government (democracy) that allows citizens to influence the management of their nation is preferable to government by a tyrant or military junta. If a government degrades the humanity of it's citizens or anyone else, and refuses to allow them fundamental freedoms guaranteed by their humanity, that government deserves censure. If it continues, that government must be put out of business.

At this time America is the only nation powerful enough to force compliance with the fundamental rules of humanity. The United Nations, who SHOULD be the enforcer, has become a corrupt and toothless shadow. Until the United Nations is changed, or replaced by another organization, America must do the job. If America were to back away from HUMANITARIAN PRINCIPLES, we would be throwing away the American heritage of goodness, belief in fundamental freedoms, and our responsibility to mankind.

MOTORCYCLE Thoughts

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When I was a kid British motorcycles and sports cars were on every boat from England. The big war (WW II)was just over and people were starting to looking ahead. The plug on restraint was removed. The pent up demand for manufactured goods took over in a rush. There was a sense that a future was possible after all.

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By this time Americans had discovered that British stuff was both interesting and different. Instead of big cars for great and wide highways, the British made small and economical cars for their narrow country lanes. British engines tended to be of small displacement and had to work hard to extract performance. Longivity was not their strong suit but they were made well, priced low, and fun to drive. British automobiles and motorcycles sold very well in America from about 1948 through 1968.

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The big motorcycle sales went to BSA, Triumph, Norton, Vincent, Ariel, and Royal Enfield. All made in Great Britain. There were a few bikes from continental Europe like Moto-Guzzi, Jawa, and Husquavara. they were good bikes but not as popular at the time.
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The cars that made a hit in America were the MG, Austin Healy, Triumph, Jaquar, Singer and Rover. All of these were sport-cars and quite unlike anything made at the time in America.

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In high school I used to look out the window. It's a wonder I passed. I would sit there and dream about motorcycles and cars. In 1949 I bought a Whizzer Motor-Bike. I rode that thing to death. It was basically a crudely engineered effort. It always had a mechanical problems and leaked oil as fast as you could put it in. On a good day, with the wind at my back and going down a steep hill I could hit about 50 mph. Since the brakes (New Departure or Bendix) overheated and burned out, they were completely ineffective. I managed to survive, but with a number of wounds. From the old Whizzer I graduated to real motorcycles. I can't remember the order but at various times I owned several.

• I was 14 when I bought a motorcycle that isn't often remembered today, an Indian Scout Verticle Twin 350cc metallic purple beauty. This was a great looking machine that really didn't have much ooomph but it both loud and reliable. I rode it nearly every day, rain or shine, to high school at John Muir Jr. College in Pasadena. The reverberations when crossing the old Devils Gate Dam Bridge were awesome.

• Somewhere along the line I acquired a Harley Davidson flat head, big bore, twin of 80 cubic inches and enough torque to climb trees. It had a tricky "dead man clutch" that was in or out and no inbetween. This monster was loud, wild and heavy. It leaked even more oil than the tiny Whizzer. I raced this thing at the Saugus Air Strip Drags several times and usually hit about 72 mph. I was obviously underage but had a great Drivers License I.D. (Name: Dudley Malcom SpitlerAge: 22) which got me past the entrants committee. Side note: There was a guy named Lou Baney who promoted the Saugus Drags and helped me go racing there. I'm afraid I don't remember much beyond his name. Wonder what happened to him?

• My next purchase was a thundering Ariel Square Four. This bike was an awkward pairing of two 500 cc vertical twins joined together with a common crankcase. It had been pretty well thrashed by the time I got it, but it was still a terrific ride. It was smooth as silk and sounded just like a 4 cylinder Offenhauser Indy engine. And it was fairly fast too. Full bore was about 90 mph as I recall. I remember doing about that going down Foothill Blvd. in La Canada in front of the Presbyterian Church at midnight. Ah, thoses were the days.

• Then for a brief time just before I went into the Air Force I owned a Triumph Bonneville 650cc Twin. This was an impressive motorcycle in it's day (around 1952-54) and was the easily the fastest and best I ever owned. They made a million of these and today they are very desireable classics. Wish sure wish I had kept mine.

All of my motorcycles were gone by the time I joined the Air Force in 1954. I returned (officially a Korean War Vet) in 1958 and went back to school on the Korean G.I. Bill at Glendale College and PCC at night. I worked at several jobs during that period including Seeley's Texaco Station, CEC Datatape Division, and Signature Marking Devices. Then in 1960 I got married. The die was cast. No more motorcycles for a while. And I never did get the MG TF or the Austin Healy I had wanted for so many years.

Until recently I rode only in my dreams. On turning 70 I (finally) bought a small Suzuki Thumper to horse around with. I quickly found out what I have been missing for over 50 years. What terrific fun . . . .

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Drat.