Read Across America at RCS

The Cat in the Hat strikes again. The annual Read Across America celebration took place, by Presidential proclamation no less, on March 2, 2011. Sponsored by the National Education Association (NEA), 45 million readers across the United States celebrated the birthday of Dr. Seuss (Theodor Seuss Geisel) with a day of reading and Cat in the Hat inspired activities.

Ripley Central School students, grade Pre-K through 6, started their day with a Seuss style breakfast of green eggs and ham and birthday cake for dessert at lunch. Throughout the day community members as well as teachers and staff visited the various classrooms to read favorite books or stories to the students. “What a wonderful way to spend a day celebrating and promoting reading!” exclaimed Mrs. Sue Hinman, RCS teacher and co-chair of the event. “Studies have shown that children who are readers to have a higher success rate in school and in life,” Hinman continued. “In addition, children who read frequently develop stronger reading skills. We practice to get better at sports and video games. Reading is the same; you have to practice to get to the highest level.”

“Motivating children to read is an important factor in student achievement and creating lifelong successful readers,” states the NEA. “Research has shown that children who are motivated and spend more time reading do better in school.”



Justin Akin, 5th grade teacher at Ripley Central, visited each elementary classroom with guitar in hand, sharing stories through song. “I have a lot more respect for rock stars now,” he quipped. “This is hard work!” While entertaining the Kindergartners, Akin encouraged the class to get up and move to the music. With book versions in hand, he sang Down by the Bay, Seals on the Bus (a beastly version of People on the Bus), and Alligator Jump to get the wiggles and giggles out of the youngsters in short order. Upon completing his final song, Green Grass Grew All Around, young Edwin Henderson raised his hand and exclaimed, “You sing better than ME!” It seems Edwin has his own guitar at age 5 and is an accomplished singer in his own right.

In addition to the variety of reading activities the students enjoyed, each of them received a book of their choice, a bookmark and a pencil to commemorate the day. “This is the sixth year the students have designed our bookmarks,” said Debbie McKillip, teaching assistant and event co-chair. “Each year we can’t wait to see what they’ll come up with next.” The bookmark designers and their themes were: Conner McFeely, Make a goal with reading; Isabelle Reid, Read what U love…love what U read!; Kimmi Kolibar, Grow into reading; and Jacob Fisher, Reading Rocks!!!

Remember what Dr. Seuss said: “You’re never too old, too wacky, too wild; to pick up a book and read with a child.”

What’s Love Got to do With It Reprised

A few weeks back I wrote a column called What’s Love Got to do With It and it opened with a reference to Tina Turner’s hit song. A film was made in the early 90s about how Tina rose to stardom with her abusive husband Ike Turner, and how she gained the courage to break free.

I have several young friends on Facebook and I see a disturbing trend. I have heard several comments in the last few weeks lamenting that he always has to be right; that he or she tries and tries but can’t seem to make the other happy; that he comes home drunk or high and hits her; and what can she/he do to make him/her happy.

I know there is physical abuse in some of these situations. I know there is mental and emotional abuse in all these situations. This is my plea to those of you in any kind of abusive situation. Get out before it’s too late.

We cannot change another person to any great extent. Many of us marry thinking we’ll change those bad habits or personality traits our spouse has that annoy us. People do change – if they want to. We can encourage and support the changes we would like to see, but we can’t MAKE someone change.

These young women, and in one case a young man, have yet to learn that. But worse, they have such low self-esteem that they think they deserve to be treated badly. How many times have we heard an abused person say they deserved to be hit, they provoked the fight; or their spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend hurt them because they didn’t do what that person wanted them to do? But they can’t leave that abusive person because they loooove them.

Please, please understand my young friends, this isn’t love. Men don’t hit women. Period. Whether the abuser is male or female, hurting someone and then apologizing, saying they’ll never do it again isn’t an expression of love and remorse. It is the plea of a controller to maintain control. And believe me, this is a control issue, not a love issue.

I understand that not all relationships are perfect. There is disagreement in any marriage or long term arrangement. People argue and say things they often shouldn’t. But love has no place for physically pushing, punching or hitting. Love also has no place for verbally tearing you down over and over again, telling you you’re no good and you’re worthless.

Victims of abuse have a very difficult time leaving their abusers. There are many psychological reasons behind this and I am certainly not qualified to discuss them. But I have seen women who have come to work with broken arms and black eyes and still deny there is anything wrong. I knew one woman who steadfastly supported her abusive husband; until he killed her.

To my young Facebook friends, and anyone else out there in an abusive relationship, leave before it is too late. If you need someone to talk to and can’t afford a counselor, talk to your parents, an older friend, your social worker or a minister or priest. If you are afraid to leave for fear of being hurt, call the police or social services. If young children are involved, get help before the cycle of abuse reaches them. Love shouldn’t hurt.

For those of you locally, you may find this of interest. For the rest of you, well, just some useless information.

Month of the Arts

March is a transitional month here in Western New York. We can as easily expect snow storms as balmy spring days. One of the nicest things about March however, is the Month of the Arts program at the Ripley Free Library.

If you came to any of the special nights last year or participated in them, you’ll remember we have quite a few talented people in our little town. This year the library welcomes not only poets but artists as well to share their unique talents with us.

Poetry Night will take place on Tuesday, March 8th at 7 p.m. Last year there were several homegrown writers who shared their original poetry with the group attending, ranging from senior citizens to a number of our young people still in school. This year the library is inviting not only original poems but encourages people to come read a selection from their favorite poet. I’ll be there, reading a lifelong favorite of mine, “The House with Nobody in It” by Joyce Kilmer.

When I was very small, maybe two or three years old, my mother would rock me in an oversized wicker rocker and recite The House with Nobody in It. It didn’t take long before I could recite the poem by myself, even at that young age. Soon my siblings started arriving, and the tradition continued, two or three or four of us piling on Mom’s lap, crying as she got to the sad parts. In that one poem, my mother taught us compassion and empathy, and a love for poetry. So in honor of her, I’ll try to get through the poem without choking up.

Works of classical art will be on display at the library during March, and a new addition to the Month of the Arts will be a local art show. Artists and photographers are encouraged to display their paintings or photographs at the library from March 15th through the 31st. Samples of all types of paintings and creative photography are encouraged. I can’t wait to see what local works of art are out there. If you have paintings or matted photos of your own you would like to share, let Nancy McIntosh at the library know and you can be entered into the show.

I’m told a Talent Show is being planned, if enough talented people can be found. So all you jugglers and singers, actors and magicians dust off your hidden talents and entertain us. That should be a lot of fun!

All event nights begin at 7 p.m. and refreshments will be served. I’m really hoping to see a lot of you there. We need new faces at the library. The library knocks itself out to bring fun and informative programs to our small community and most of them are free. Start thinking about what you can contribute and call the library, 736-3913, for more information.

The Perfect Age

Bette Davis once said, “Old age ain’t no place for sissies.”

I awoke in the middle of the night recently, and as happens in the wee hours, odd things pop into your head. I could not remember how old I was, and I hadn’t the capacity at that hour to subtract the years in my head. So I counted on my fingers: 1951 to 61 to 71, etc. When I realized I was going to be sixty this year it shocked me! “Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what the heck happened,” said Cora Harvey Armstrong. Boy ain’t it the truth.

I don’t feel as if I’ve been around long enough to claim sixty years of experience. Age is a relative thing, isn’t it? In your teens, you think someone in their thirties is old. By the time you’re twenty, forty or fifty seems old. At fifty, seventy still seems young. Coming up on sixty, I look at eighty-somethings and see the youth still in them.

I do not think of myself as old. How could I? I am only sixty. There is a place card on my dresser that states, “Each age has its own special joys and experiences. I am always the perfect age for where I am in life.” This is so true. I hear people say they wish they were twenty again, or forty, or any age than what they are. There is no age I would go back to; each stage of my life has brought me new awareness and new rewards.

I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for fewer gray hairs or a flatter belly. Old age is a gift. I am becoming the person I have always wanted to be. As I’ve aged I’ve become more kind to myself and less critical. I’ve learned to forgive myself for my failings, and learn from my mistakes. I have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray and to have my laughter forever etched into the lines on my face. And although I fight against those signs of aging, I am blessed. So many have never laughed and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

I sometimes despair over my body; the wrinkles, the sagging butt and the extra pounds. But I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body and dive into the waves with joy, despite the disapproving glances from the bikini set. They will get old too if they are lucky.

I like being older. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I will not spend my time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what might be. I will try to find the joy in each day, the freedom to be had in each passing year. As I once read, “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, champagne in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming ‘Woohoo, what a ride!”

A Breath of Spring

A heartfelt thank you to those of you who sent cards and emails to cheer me out of my winter blahs a couple weeks ago. I especially want to thank my very good friend, Juliet, for the “sunshine from Minnesota” bouquet she sent.

Two weeks ago we were experiencing a frigidly cold spell with single digit temperatures. One day that week I had been out most of the day and when I came home there was a box propped up by my garage door. On it was 1-800-FLOWERS and I was quite confused as to why I would be getting flowers when it wasn’t my birthday, or Valentine’s Day (yet), or any other special occasion I could think of. I took the box in and opened a bouquet of dead flowers. I don’t know how long UPS left it outside, but the poor flowers had frozen.

So I called 1-800-FLOWERS and explained what had happened. They were most solicitous and offered to send another bouquet the next day. No, I said, no one will be here, send them on Wednesday. Of course, they could do that, no problem. I got home on Tuesday and sure enough, there sat another box of flowers in the snow.

Evidently UPS had made their delivery only a little while before the box was found, and I now have a beautiful arrangement of alstroemeria, or Peruvian lilies as they are sometimes called. As unlikely as it seemed, I put the first dead-looking bunch in water and several of those “came back to life,” so I have a large vase and a small vase of springtime. Thank you my friend, it was just what I needed.

I did manage to renew my spirit a bit more with a trip to the Botanical Gardens in Buffalo with my very Significant Other on Valentine’s weekend. We were regulars at the Como Conservatory in St. Paul, but this was our first visit to the Buffalo gardens. What a breath of fresh air!

From the tropical rainforest to the desert cacti, from the Florida Everglades to a Victorian ivy garden, the Botanical Gardens have it all. There is a room devoted to orchids, but they adorn almost every room in some way. As I was strolling along I got a whiff of chocolate in the air and I thought how quaint for Valentine’s weekend, they’ve got chocolate somewhere. Turns out, the aroma was coming from the chocolate orchid (oncidium sharry baby). Oh what a sensory delight! If they weren’t so difficult to grow I’d have a house full of those luscious calorie free blossoms.

Finding topiaries of dinosaurs and alligators in several rooms was a delightful surprise, but you must look closely since their camouflage is close to perfect. The amaryllis show is just winding up, with only this weekend to go, and sadly many of those tall stately flowers were wilting or stalks had fallen over from the sheer weight of the multiple flowers it held.

The gardens are only an hour or so away, so next time I get into a winter funk, I’ll pack up and drive to the tropics; unless of course the roads are impassable with ice and snow and blowing wind. Ah, winter, gotta love it. Think Spring everybody.

What’s Love Got To Do With It

Tina Turner posed the question. What’s love got to do with it? Love is a second hand emotion, brought on by physical response, so the song would have us believe. Oh Tina, there is so much more to do with it.

Do you love someone? Why? Just because is the best answer I can think of. Love does not have a reason, it just is. Maybe it started with a physical response, but that certainly doesn’t last. Love has no strings attached. Love does not demand you be or act a certain way. True love is freely given without expectation.

I’m not prone to quoting Scripture, but the best description of love I know is in I Corinthians 13. Translations differ between versions of the Bible, but they mean the same thing. Love is patience and kindness. Patience does not come easily to some people, or as the adage goes, “Lord give me patience, but give it to me NOW.” Practice patience with those you love. Kindness will follow. Loving someone is a quiet, private thing – not a selfish me, me, me attitude. Love is not jealous or boastful, proud or rude. Love is about the one you love, not about you. Loving someone should be done without keeping a record of wrong doings. It isn’t a competition of how many things you did or did not do for each other.

Love rejoices in the successes and accomplishments of the one you love. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes and always perseveres. Three things will last forever, the passage says; faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is love.

Just think what we could do if the entire population of the world knew love. Prejudices of color, race, sexual preference, religion, and nationality would end. Abuse and slavery would end. Hunger and deprivation would no longer be tolerated. Petty squabbles and wars would cease to exist. I am pretty sure this isn’t going to happen in my lifetime, but I keep on trying to spread the love around where I can.

What's love got to do with it, Tina? Everything.

Every Silver Lining has Its Cloud

I am depressed; in a blue funk; melancholy; down in the dumps. I am tired of cloudy days. I look out my window and I see white snow and gray skies. I can see Lake Erie from my window, and even it is now frozen over in striated shades of white and gray. The world is awash in shades of gray. It’s depressing. I want it to go away.

A tiny bit of research assured me that I am not imaging that we live in the cloudiest place in America. Cleveland, Ohio is near the top the list of the cloudiest cities with two hundred ninety nine days with cloud cover of some sort. Buffalo comes in with three hundred eleven days of cloudiness. Being nestled in between these cities on the lake, we are bound to have just as many dismal days. A mere fifty four days of total sunshine grace our area each year! No wonder I’m depressed! How do we live like this?

Unsurprisingly, Phoenix is the sunniest place around. Unfortunately it isn’t around here. The closest “sunny” city to us is Oklahoma City, and folks I want to tell you, that’s over twelve hundred miles away. I am in serious need of some sunshine. I don’t even care if it’s cold and snowy; I just want some blue sky and sun.

I am not fortunate enough to be able to go to Florida or Arizona or some other sunny, warm clime in the dead of winter. I am stuck here in the white-washed world of western New York. So it becomes necessary to play mind games, trying to convince myself that it isn’t as bad as it seems. Before the lake froze over I could look out and see strips of blue and I reveled in the aliveness of it. It was a touch of intense color in an otherwise dull world. Now, in the depths of winter, I look out and try to imagine the world as one big silver cloud. I peer up and imagine a damask tablecloth with flat weaves of tree branches on it and I gaze at the stand of evergreen trees covered in snow as if they were gowns all dressed up with silver glitter. Every cloud has a silver lining they say. My world is all silver for the moment.

I really do try to appreciate each season for what it brings, but this white world we live in is feeling a bit like a padded cell right about now. Did Punxsutawney Phil see his shadow this week? I’m in dire need of spring.