Category: Life in Cambridge

As we approach Thanksgiving in a year often offering more grief than joy, we can still all find things to be thankful for; one for me was the opportunity to play in the CCS band, especially when it was under the direction of Harwood Strobeck. Adult friends called Mr. Strobeck Woody, but kids didn’t, unless they wanted to make a normally easy going man mad, something I saw once during a drum lesson, and no, this time I wasn’t the one who crossed the line, but did witness the consequences.

I wonder how many people realize how difficult and time consuming it is to be a high school band director. In terms of required skills and effort, I can’t think of a more challenging position in any school situation. Instruction across the huge musical spectrum is a daunting task alone, and interacting with teenagers prone to all sorts of nonsense without alienating them creates a most trying job along an often emotional high wire. And believe me, Mr. Strobeck had more than a handful of volatile teen musicians to keep in line as he taught skills that went far beyond music. Continue reading “Woody and the Wrestler”

Maybe my misjudgment is off, but in reviewing physical contact with teachers, no action I experienced as a student was uncalled for, and all amounted to what a former Louisiana principal often said when disciplining a wayward student. “When you’re dumb, you pay” he’d explain before passing sentence, an axiom I find almost universal, except in politics.

While watching a shaky cell phone video on a TV news program, one supposedly showing a teacher’s inappropriate physical action I thought perfectly justified under the circumstances, it occurred to me that I’d been grabbed by the throat three different times by three different CCS teachers. Each one had more than ample justification. I don’t know if this is a record, but I’ll establish a baseline anyway just for future reference and welcome comparisons. Most seriously now and much more important, all of the following incidents imparted critically important lessons quickly and permanently for free, a real bargain any way I look at it today. Continue reading “Right by the Throat Education”

One thing any good teacher knows is that students never forget and still deeply appreciate the efforts made on their behalf, even when these efforts were made long ago. When it comes to Bob Cheney, this may be doubly true. My classmates and I were blessed with Mr. Cheney in his first year of teaching, and for many more after that. His presence was not just transformative for us, but for the entire school and Cambridge community.

Mr. Cheney swept into Cambridge on the winds of change with a young person’s energy and an obvious intent on making a difference. His classroom, to the untrained eye, might look a bit chaotic at times, but it was a functional, beneficial energy driven by numerous educational and social objectives. Of course, as dumb kids we didn’t know anything about this, we just enjoyed whatever happened to be on the day’s social studies menu, one that was as diverse as the teacher. Continue reading “Hanging with Mr. Cheney”

“Who was the best teacher you ever had?” is a most difficult question, not because I’ve had an excess of great teachers, but because the truly great ones I did have were so exceptionally talented and dedicated it’s very hard to pick just one individual. But if forced to make a single selection, it would be the late Tom Narkiewicz. He was incredibly gifted and had a heart few could match. He loved teaching, as much as he loved the kids he taught, even the jerks like me. I didn’t deserve a teacher half as good, but this made no difference to Mr. Narkiewicz.

We called him “Narkie” behind his back, but never to his face. None but the biggest of fools ever tried overt disrespect more than once in any class Narkie taught because the penalty was quick, absolutely inescapable, verbal execution. Continue reading “Narkie and the Regents Exam”

When the Eagles released “Desperado” in 1973 the record resonated deeply with misplaced ambition to become a famous outlaw. While priorities changed dramatically over the years, much of that album still hits home, especially the title cut. Unlike the Dalton gang the Eagles loosely chronicled, real life cowboy outlaws who wound up trussed and displayed after they were all shot dead, I picked the Queen of Hearts and not the Queen of Diamonds. I think this choice saved my life. You’ll need to listen to the album carefully for a more complete understanding. The many messages are sung far better than I can ever say in words, and I don’t want to wreck the powerful sentiment in translation.

What’s all this have to do with Cambridge? The answer for me is the song “Bitter Creek” and the warning it gives about wading too deep into it. I was once totally submerged, and had some understandable reasons. Continue reading “Drowning in Bitter Creek”