I was in the seventh grade, focused on the French horn instrument. Overall I was in "adolescence." Unbelievable phase, adolescence can be. Life includes trauma at all stages, but we might think of adolescence as unique in this regard. We are trying to find ourselves. We might only think we're headed in the right direction. Then we back up, adjust, try something else or just recoil at bad things that are happening to us. We don't have the freedom to adjust in the ways that might be best.
Maybe public education is more accommodating today in the year 2022. Look at all the kids making the "honor rolls" today, 'A' and 'B'. Well, what's wrong with getting "C' grades? I learned once it means you're "average." Heavens, anyone ought to be satisfied with that. But as time passed, kids developed some aversion to the 'C' grade.
The 'C' students can be inspired by the background of President George W. Bush - apparently was comfortable with 'C' grades.
The same people who would today vote Republican were the war "hawks." The "doves" were war skeptics. We can be such inscrutable creatures, as the most fervent people who call themselves "conservative" today will support the president we had from 2016 to 2020, who became a voice for getting out of foreign wars. Bush gave us "Operation Iraqi Freedom" and other adventures. Afghanistan: the famous sinkhole for major powers.
I remember the news bulletin "We've taken Kabul." Sounded like a big deal, right? Then I learned that "taking Kabul" has never been a big deal.
My generation had its heart in the right place. We opposed war but that was hardly a genius proposition. So many of us got into drugs, left permanent stain in many cases. Drugs were part of a counterculture that was supposed to signal enlightenment on so many things. Fine, but there were weird tangents that dragged us down. Boys grew their hair long as some sort of statement. We dressed "grubby" as a statement. We thought our rock music had to be really loud to be cool. We'd damage our hearing. Boys walked with a slouched posture.
The people with authority seemed to like that mantle just for its own sake. They had to show they could control us. They justified their salary that way: they could claim their job was to keep order. Yes, in the way a prison warden might.
And then our parents, presumably, would feel thankful that our world wasn't just crumbling and our path to adulthood waylaid. If only they knew how we could be waylaid anyway. For the boys, fear of forced military service was absolutely paramount. In today's parlance, the matter was "existential" to us. (When I was in college, "existential" was considered a total "50-cent word" and it was hard to find anything like a cogent definition.)
To behave? Why?
Why be a "good boy," work hard at your "lessons," learn all the rules of our U.S. society, if at the age of 18 you'd be sent to some miserable jungle to "die for your country." You see, the young people of today, all those wonderful kids who make the "honor roll," cannot begin to relate to the U.S. life of the late 1960s. The conflict then was on a level they cannot comprehend. The little tribulations of their adolescent lives are so inconsequential.
In their own minds, definitely not. But they ought to feel glad that with a normal decent attitude about life, they can get on the "honor rolls." Teachers no longer act like they are "keeping prisoners in line." I have heard it said that today's kids "walk all over the teachers." In a sense I think this is real progress.
The genuine nightmare
The life-changing event for me was realizing in the ninth grade that I could not do algebra. I literally could not do it. Who on behalf of "the state" (i.e. government) decided that algebra was a course I had to take? What possible purpose might it serve? I'll tell you what purpose it served: to make certain education bureaucrats feel important. They sought the feeling of importance not with any desire to actually help young people. It was entirely self-serving. Their "grunts" were the teachers like Mr. Vodden at Morris junior high.
My parents were contacted about my troubles. I remember that both me and another kid in the ninth grade play cast were at risk of being removed from that activity. We couldn't do algebra. Looking back, I might have been better off just being thrown in with the "retards." The idea would be to just survive school and then get the hell out of it, to somehow "break out of prison."
Looking back, why should I have been so scared of getting to school late or getting to a class late? What if I just wanted to "sleep in" now and then? What if I got to class late because I needed some time to just get organized? But you'd be disciplined in such a severe manner. I wish I had just "talked back" now and then so I could vent my feelings. Might I be sent away as some incorrigible kid?
Yeah, as if I'd really hurt someone. My intent in life would be just the opposite: I just wanted a little freedom, a little elbow room and a little reasonableness from my elders. Such a low bar to set.
After high school I was amazed at how reasonable and pleasant people could be, as I circulated in the standard adult world. We could enjoy our interactions. The idea was to make tasks easy, not hard. Don't make tasks any harder than they needed to be. In school the requirements had seemed onerous, like it was "pain equals gain."
The system must have been set up that way for a reason. Maybe it was the dads of the baby boomers who ha been in "boot camp."
Take note of the program images with this blog post. Note the composer of the evening's final tune: "Born To Be Free." The composer of this "inspirational tune" was Ralph E. Williams, my father. He was on the UMM faculty. It was my cross to bear to be his son because people expected me to be special.
You'll see my name with the French horn. I was absolutely staggered at a certain point to realize that French horn was a girls instrument, at least in our school. Could not figure out why. Made no sense to me. So in the next couple years as I took up trumpet for marching band, I sought to gravitate to trumpet permanently. For sure the trumpet was a boys instrument. The gender expectations or stereotypes were much more pronounced back then. There was no serious sports for girls, none! Isn't that hard to believe? So many of us cannot even conceive of that.
Compare those days to the present.
You'll see the name Del Sarlette in the concert program for being in a trumpet duet. He joined with Terry Rice. Terry was an absolute virtuoso of the instrument.
If you're a lifelong Morris person you'll see many other familiar names in the program. Our band director was Bill Dohrn, who I always thought looked like the Egyptian leader Gamma Abdul Nasser. Vocal was handled by Christine Gruenes, who played in my father's UMM orchestra. The kids unfortunately did not take to her very well. I'm not blaming her, I'm blaming the kids. We developed such fixed impressions of our junior high teachers.
Bill Coombe was one of our teachers. The long-time football field was named for him. He liked to refer to himself in the third person!
All I can say about my junior high experience is that I survived. I must have gotten past my algebra hardship somehow. Maybe I was "mainstreamed." That's what teachers do when they decide to just let kids get by, to advance, no matter what. Get them through the system so they can finally reach the normal adult world, a far better place. Today I think we treat kids with a lot more kindness.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com
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