Legacy (Los Altos Town Crier, June 2016)
A few weeks ago I attended a couple of celebrations which set me thinking.
The first was a reunion of my high school alumni and faculty members from the ‘50’s, 60’s and 70’s , a picnic where students had a chance to tell some of their teachers as well as each other how things they had learned decades ago had affected their lives.
To Claire Pelton, English Teacher: “I went into tutoring students for AP exams because of your class. And I can still quote the witches’ spell from Macbeth.”
To Marilyn Young, French teacher: “Because of you I was an exchange student in France. You met with me and my mother to encourage both of us to travel to France. I’ve loved France ever since and am going back next month to celebrate my birthday.”
Of Betty Allen, Public Speaking teacher : “She forced me to get up and speak. “Impromptu or extemporaneous?” she would ask. And she allowed no mumbling. I can still hear her saying, “Diction,Gary, Diction!”
Of Principal “Dude” Angius: “He knew my name. He was the principal, and I was a snotty little kid, and he always called me by my name.”
Of Leonard Helton, American History teacher: “Those little pamphlets on American Problems – it was the first time I understood that there could be more than one view of history, more than one side to a question.”
Of Virginia Kurzweil, typing teacher: “She made me stick to the rules, and practice. She showed me if I worked hard I could get better, I could do well, not be a nothing. She changed my life.”
I used to be a teacher, and loved preparing lessons and lecturing, didn’t mind paper-reading, but was a washout at keeping order in the class. The more academically -inclined students and I had great learning experiences together, but the ones who were just serving chair time made me miserable. Eventually I was able to switch to another line of work where I got to prepare “lessons” and “lecture” only to interested “students”. The “lessons” were sales pitches, the “lectures” were sales presentations, the “students” were executives in large companies who needed to be educated on why they needed to purchase the high-end business software I was selling. I got to travel around the world and enjoyed almost every minute. The downside: I don’t think any of my customers is ever going to approach me years from now as I sit in my wheelchair and tell me how purchasing that software changed his life.
The second celebration was a presentation of awards in appreciation of people who had made a difference in their community after retirement.
One man had seen how the character of his town was changing as historic buildings in his town were being replaced by ever-bigger and ever-blander structures, and spear-headed the establishment of an Architectural Review Board to make sure that new buildings conformed to some aesthetic needs as well as engineering and functional ones.
One woman established a non-profit which began as a drive to put books into the hands of children who had few or none, and expanded to include literacy programs and tutoring for parents as well as children in her community.
One man became interested in the trees lining the streets of his town, and became a champion of the Urban Forest, planting and maintaining thousands of trees to refresh the air and eye.
One couple plunged into their community’s government, , serving on committees and taking leadership in local, and state politics, long before politics meant polarization.
Another couple began a scholarship fund to assist students who are just on the cusp of being able to afford college, enabling over 250 students to attend four-year schools.
All this after retirement from their first careers. I guess it’s not too late for me to leave a legacy. But I’d better get cracking.
Allyson Johnson 