Update 8-10-04

Hi,

Something for everyone.

First, from Ira Mitzner: here's why I would have liked to get to know Mr. O'Connor better. I was terrible in physics. I had an excellent teacher in Mr. O'Connor, and the support of a trusty lab partner (Ellen Nudelman), but I was teetering on the brink of failure. I went to Mr. O'Connor after school and explained that I wanted to go to law school, would probably never take a science course again, and if I failed physics it would really hurt my chances of getting into my preferred colleges. He listened to me and gave me words of comfort (but not commitment) in his soothing New England accent. When the final grades arrived, I had passed physics -- by one point. (I will always wonder whether my plea swayed him.) When the yearbooks were distributed, we all took them around to our favorite teachers for signing. He seemed pleased that I approached him (understandably, given my poor showing). He took out his pen, and, when he returned the book to me, he had written, "Even lawyers need physics." This is a guy I should have gotten to know better.

Next, from Booker Gibson: Here are some thoughts on Alma Maters like "Valiant Falcons." I think the parody was a playful reaction to that "mean" music teacher who made all his classes memorize the original. In the past, I believe I mentioned that I went up to Potsdam, New York for Music-Ed. (By the way, that little community has about four synagogues now.) When we students first heard the Alma Mater "On The Banks Of Raquette River," we thought it was the corniest and dumbest song. Compared to it, "Valiant Falcons" is pretty sophisticated. Still, "On The Banks Of Raquette River" came to mean much more later on. Last February, there was an annual fundraiser for the college held in New York City in a huge church for an interdenominational crowd. Two of the hostesses and featured singers were Renee Fleming, a Potsdam grad, and another lady who was the star of Phantom of the Opera on the West and East coasts and also a Potsdam grad. At the very beginning of the concert, Renee asked everyone to stand, and we all sang "On The Banks Of Raquette River" -- in four part harmony. With four-thousand people singing, it was a very moving experience. If Hiram Rosov or I were still teaching, we could tell you how BIG Renee Fleming is!

[Rich -- even some of us who don't like opera probably know who Renee Fleming is. Honest. But thanks for the tutoring offer.]

Finally, an article Barnet Kellman forwarded from Newsday, written by a man who was a year-or-two behind us in school and is now a columnist and member of Newsday's editorial board:

One School Shows How Integration Serves Long Island Students Well
Newsday, Tuesday, April 6, 2004
By Lawrence C. Levy
My old neighborhood school never looked so good -- or so different. Early last fall, as an old friend and I drove to the Mill Brook section of Valley Stream for the building's 50th anniversary, the hedges were thicker and better groomed than when we swarms of little Baby Boomers bounced through them to go from house to welcoming house. And Forest Road School, our safe haven within a haven for refugees from New York City, looked as fresh and inviting as it did the day we entered kindergarten a year after it was built. But, as familiar as it all seemed, the school and neighborhood right on the Queens line had changed in ways that would have been unimaginable -- and, yes, frightening -- to my parents and playmates a generation ago. A dynamic demographic makeover has turned the school and neighborhood into a cornucopia of racial and ethnic diversity. And more: as an increasing number of Long Island communities see moving vans pull up with black-and brown-skinned families, this neighborhood has become a test case of character not only for many who now live there but for all of Long Island.
Do whites flee before the now unstoppable wave of new arrivals (whose parents were blocked from coming a generation ago), even if many are solidly middle class? Do whites run and hide in fewer and fewer enclaves of privilege, denying both white and black children a better chance (as I was denied) to prepare for living and working in a multicultural world? Do whites continue to consign minority children to schools that don't have the political support or money to deliver a quality education, even if it means producing a future workforce less able to help the region prosper? Or do they welcome the newcomers and make the inevitable changes work for everyone's selfish best interests? Right now, with test scores high and the neighborhood a gem, there really wouldn't be many good reasons for a white family with school-age kids to leave or not consider buying there. When we were growing up, the neighborhood was called Green Acres. The new split-levels and ranches were the first houses most of our parents ever lived in, much less owned. They were city kids themselves, raised in the crowded Jewish ghettos of New York City. It was a place of generational dreams. But even with the government loans earned against the armies of fascism and communism, the cost of buying there -- from $14,000 to $21,000 -- also made this a place of sacrifice. Now, at upwards of $400,000, this is still a neighborhood of sweat and striving for another wave of suburban settlers.
On the day of the school's silver anniversary celebration, I stood next to Booker T. Gibson, who had been the only black teacher in my high school for decades. And he was stunned. As he scanned the faces in the crowd of parents and students, he said sardonically, "I see an awful lot of 'blood' in this 'hood." And so there was. A school that had been all-white and nearly all-Jewish still had a prosperous, high-performing student population, but one that now was black and yellow and shades of brown -- and less than half white. Mill Brook has become that rarity of among rarities in America's most segregated suburb -- a truly integrated neighborhood with a great school and growing property values. It is at once a vivid snapshot of Long Island's past and its future.
Along with the elderly remnants of my parents' circle and young white families still moving here, the houses now are filled with families, many of them including professionals, from India, Pakistan, Korea, China, Jamaica, Guyana, El Salvador and dozens of other countries. This was proudly evident last month when I returned for the food and pageantry of the school's first international diversity fair. The younger the grade on stage, the fewer the whites. The little blond girl who sang a ballad, wearing a green dress covered with shamrocks, stood out like a minority child would have in my day -- had there had been any. Annette Miller, who is white, acknowledges that she and her husband thought of leaving. "So many of our friends just fled," she said. "But I've met people from so many other countries. I'm thrilled for myself and for my children. It's a wonderful way for them to grow up."
"I'm really hoping that it stays a mixed community," Dwight Edwards, a Jamaican-American, told me after he watched his son do an Israeli folk dance on the tiny stage. "My kids really enjoy the blend. But it's really up to the whites to decide if they want to stay and accept the change." That is an open question. For every long--time resident like Connie Schwartz, whose son Ira was my classmate and who says she loves the way the newcomers have livened up her block, there are others who leave or quietly express their displeasure. And it has turned Mill Brook into a challenge for the people who live there -- and who might live there -- to overcome racial, ethnic and social fears. "Lots and lots of play dates," said attorney and international night organizer Theodora Egeonu--Egbuchulam when I asked her how Mill Brook can preserve its racial balance. "A Jewish mom just sent her son to play at my home with my Nigerian--American son. Another mom had Greek, Filipino, and Nigerian kids over to make Chinese pencil dolls." No doubt it will take more than that. The authorities will have to ensure that realtors don't engage in blockbusting or racial steering. Police must see that the community remains safe, in reputation and reality. And school officials must make sure that the district continues to get a fair share of funding.
Understand this: there's no reason a school or community must have whites to be successful. But the reality is that minorities who attend integrated schools perform better than those in segregated ones. And that overwhelmingly minority communities tend to be poorer and less politically potent. In cases where a community is majority white but the school system is not, the old guard without children in the classroom often doesn't approve adequate funding. Then everything starts to fall apart. And that could be a disaster -- for all of Long Island. That's because more and more schools and neighborhoods will face the challenge of Forest Road as both poor and middle-class minorities pursue their dreams to Long Island in far greater numbers than whites. Putting aside the moral argument, if these schools lag for lack of resources that were plentiful when whites filled the desks and if the kids can't read, write and compute up to snuff, then who will do the high tech jobs to keep the economy thriving? The children of Forest Road must be made ready, just as they were -- as I was -- in a blissfully easier and more ignorant time.


Rich