The creature that is called Thaddeus Fonck

I loved school at first. I loved my teachers too. Then there came a time that school mostly bored me and teachers were to be avoided. I had a couple teachers that frankly, left me cold and outside. Literally, one teacher said I could be her Outstanding Student that year. She meant Out Standing in the Hall. I didn’t write the book, Thirteen Ways To Sink a Sub, but after that, I could have written the forward. Now, I would love to go back and be a student again. I never dreamed I’d be a teacher. That was the furthest thing from my mind. Now, a lot of my friends think I ‘d make a pretty good teacher. How do you go from disliking school to being a pretty good teacher? I can attribute this to several things.

I’l mention just a few. For starters, I had some very good teachers; Mr. Robinson, Mr. Mickelson, Mr. Venner, Mr. Smith (the Grouch), Mrs. Zahaki, Mr. Schuetzle. These were not good teachers because they were good at teaching Math, Latin, Government, English etc… They were good teachers because they taught me about me. They taught me how to understand myself. I remember Mickelson teaching me how to take tests. (I then remember his head shaking as I did very well taking a test by flipping a coin.) I think most importantly, they taught me how to learn about me. I learned to recognize my strengths and weaknesses. I learned how to study others, see myself in them and then get better.

I eventually married a teacher, an English teacher. English was my worst subject. It’s interesting how life happens.  To this day, I’ve never said, “God, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t send me to Africa.” I’ve learned better. I’ve seen other people end up in Africa, metaphorically speaking. As a student, I hated reading and writing. Now, I read and write for a living. Because I have to? Nope. Because I am doing what I love. I’m not saying that I love reading and I love writing. No, I’m only slightly above neutral towards these disciplines.

I made a concerted effort to become learned. Why? Because knowledge is power. Who doesn’t want power?!? Even before watching He-Man  say, “I HAVE THE POWER.”  I wanted the power.  The power to control my life. To control what I did and when I did it. I wanted to go where I wanted and do what I wanted. Is it any wonder that one of my latest ventures is titled To Do In This Town? I discovered early on that it took the combination of Time and Money to create that kind of power. I saw that knowledge could lead to money. It was later that I heard words put to the idea that if you have enough money you can buy back your time.

First I learned good study habits. Then someone pointed me to a book about learning styles. The Way They Learn by Cynthia Ulrich Tobias. It was in this book that I started to actually put myself together. Cynthia taught me to understand how my mind works, how to order information so that my mind would best be able to take it in and process it. It was here that the door to education was first opened to me. By understanding how people learned, myself included, I began to learn how to communicate better with people. I combined this with another book that moved me substantially forward,  The Language of Love by Gary Smalley and John Trent. Now I was a communicating fool. Emphasis on fool.

In recent years another group of teachers reached into my life and pointed the way to the next milestone in my journey to becoming a teacher.  These teachers are John, Jack and David. These are very common names, but they are certainly not common men. This group of teachers  turned me inward as well. John taught me the gift of using story to give vision and inspiration. Jack has taught me many things, I think they could all be surmised as discipline. Were I to surmise what David has taught me, in a word, Love.

Some of us learn quickly. Sadly some do not. I’ve come to the conclusion that we all have the ability to learn. We all have different styles of learning. Some by reading and some by doing. Some of us learn in a classroom. Some of us learn best at the School of Hard Knocks. Me? I’ve had to go to school in all these ways and places. It depends on what I’m learning. I am learning how to learn better every day. The interesting thing is that the more I learn how to learn, the better I get at teaching.

As I reflect on this 1200 word ‘piece of work” (insert Sarc mark here), I find it interesting that my list of heroes, some of the worlds greatest leaders, can in some way all be considered teachers. I heard John tell a story of how he plants trees. He gives each tree a name, the name of one of his students. He talks about how each tree is different. Each tree has different needs. Each tree grows or dies. Some grow with his help, some grow inspite of it. When John told this story, I think he was making a different point. But as I recall and reflect on the story, the point I take from it today is that good teachers don’t really teach. They may help you remember certain facts or rules or whatever. They may even be very good at it. But what good teachers do, is not teach students, but grow people.

Over the last several years I’ve found myself surround by teachers. It seems that of all the people I’m around on a regular basis, they either are a teacher, were a teacher or are married to a teacher. I kind of feel like the odd-duck Irish in-law that married into a large family of Italian immigrants. Everyone around me talks this strange language. They all know that I’m standing there slack jawed and wide eyed with not a clue what they are talking about. At least there is a lot of love and good food.

It’s not likely that I’ll ever be a teacher with a classroom. I won’t use the word never, because in fact, I’ve taught in several classrooms. I’ve taught close to 100 students. Not for very long, and I’ve not taught them very much. I guess it’s hard to be around so many teachers and not start to look and act like one. I’m beginning to get the language down. I’m beginning to understand that these people are ‘called’ to their profession. More importantly, I think I’m catching the spirit. The spirit of growing and building people. The spirit that says I’m best at teaching, helping and growing others, when I focus on making me better. I guess I’ve learned to love helping others grow.

Earlier I said that I was doing what I loved and that it wasn’t reading and writing. Then I proceeded to WRITE about several books that I’ve READ. So what gives? This is what gives. I love growing and helping others grow. Now that you’ve READ this, I hope you’ll WRITE a comment that about how you’ve been helped in some way.

I wonder where I fit in on this whole Immigration thing. I am a HUGE fan of Immigrants. They work harder than most Americans. They still believe in the American Dream. Many of them are very successful. I’d like to know how many Americans work for Immigrants (in jobs created by someone born in another nation).

I think one of the best solutions to the ‘Illegal Immigrant Problem’ is to increase the quotas, so more can come to America Legally. (to be honest, other than logistics, I’m not sure why we have quotas) You can’t call it a jobs issue. Most people I know who don’t have jobs, won’t work the jobs most known illegals take. On the other hand, for those of you without a job, quit looking and create your own job. Then find some other people to work for you. Put another way, Quit looking for a job and start creating them. Yet another way, Quit depending on someone else and start letting others depend on you.

Personally I think of many immigrants as Heroes. It takes a lot of courage to take your family someplace where you don’t speak the language. You don’t know anyone. The culture is very different than yours. The laws are so different, you never know if you are breaking them. You don’t know what your “rights” are. There is a lot that we take for granted that make life very difficult for an immigrant. It’s simple things like going to the doctor. Enrolling your kids in school. Driving a car when you can’t read the street signs. Have you gotten insurance lately? What do you suppose it is like to have to get car, home or health insurance, when there is no such thing as insurance in your home country. It’s a truly foreign concept. Then try to understand all the ins and outs and options of insurance policies. To put yourself and your family through that, just for the Hope (no guarantee) that you can create a better life for your family. In my book that makes you a HERO.

I would ask yourself what you can do to help. Americans should start putting out the ‘Welcome Mat’ for immigrants. By that I mean a couple of different things. 1)Volunteer to help them learn English. Stop saying that They” should speak English and start teaching them. 2) Learn another language yourself. That way while they are learning English you can still communicate with them. 3) Just be neighborly. Say “Hi” to them. Take them some cookies when they move into the neighborhood. One of my best friends is an immigrant. When he and I met, because I volunteered to teach English, he couldn’t understand a word I said. Now he speaks pretty good English. He is looked at as a leader in the company where he works. His wife is about to complete her degree from a major university. He will be starting toward a degree soon. Our kids are best friends. All this, and when we met, we couldn’t even communicate because of the language barrier.

Where do I stand on Immigration. I am Completely and Entirely for it. I understand that everyone needs to be ‘documented’. I really struggle with the idea of just documenting those that are here unlawfully. It’s not right or fair to reward someone for breaking the law. I can’t say that I am for Amnesty. I also can’t say that I’m for sending them all home and never letting them back into the country. They’re here. They are managing to obtain food, shelter and the other necessities of life. So obviously our economy can sustain them. I see know reason that they shouldn’t be here except that the immigration quotas are not large enough for them all to come in to America as legal and documented. I say, “Set an extra place at the table and invite them in.”

The best option I can come up with that takes into account the logistics is to ‘drastically’ increase the quotas from the countries where the ‘Illegals’ are from. Maybe for a year or two. Make them file for immigration, work visas etc. from within their own country. This would hopefully encourage many of them to leave and return in a Legal manner. Let companies who have illegals currently working for them create a policy that would give theses people time off to go home, come back legally and still have their job when they get back. Then the company would not have to pay to retrain a good employee.

These are some of my thoughts on Immigration. Let me know if you agree or disagree, and then what politician or party feels the same way.

I have heard it said that a true friend is someone who tells you the truth no matter what. I certainly value this in a friendship. If your friends can’t be honest with you, then who can? I think a better definition of a friend is someone who brings out the best in you. Someone who reaches deep down inside of you and stirs that something in your soul that makes you yearn to be better, to take on the challenge, to stand against the wind, to strap on, load up and set out.

I’ve read C.S. Lewis’ Four Loves and understand the difference between intimacy and strangers. I have come to the realization that some of my best friends are strangers. I recently met one such stranger while out on the prairie. Interestingly enough, this stranger on the prairie gave me a book about a river. Not just any river. A book about the Mighty Mo. This is a river that so embodies Momentum that one rarely uses the name and the word together.

I’ve read many books in my life. The far majority in the last 20 years. I have books to fill shelf after shelf. It is not often that a book grabs me not so much by it’s content, or how it is written, but because of it’s mastery. This book catches me because the grandeur with which it is written seems to match the grandeur of it’s content.

This book is The River and I by John G Neihardt. I am grateful to my new friend Thomas for putting this in my hand and reviving long still dreams with in my soul.

Thanks Tom.