I just read a headline on my Facebook news feed titled “A Mother Says Her Son Was Sold in a Mock Slave Auction. School District Votes Unanimously on Action Plan.”
As all good readers are taught, I formed some pre-conceived notions about this article before I read it. I determined from my past experience that a teacher somewhere had used this method to make history come alive for her students, but that some who didn’t understand took her intentions the wrong way and were offended without cause. After all, this situation, like many things in life, is a matter of perspective, and every story has at least two sides. To some this might sound just awful—to others, it might seem like a creative method for a teacher to use to interest students in American history.
Actual reading of the article revealed this was actually a student-organized mock auction of black students that was cited by many in the community as an instance of racial bullying. Even then, it was revealed that at least one student told his parent, when asked why he had not reported the incident, that it was not a big deal.
I have noticed that sometimes adults make “big deals” out of things that are not that important to their children. Sometimes the pre-conceived notions we have as adults were formed for us by the adults in our younger lives. I remember an experience I had as a principal. A boy and a girl got into a disagreement. Both had mothers who worked at the school. One mother came to me, told me about her understanding of the situation, and asked my advice on handling it. I advised this mother to let the kids handle it. A little while later the other mother came to me and told me her somewhat different understanding of the same situation. She also asked my advice on how to deal with it. Just as with the first mother, I advised this lady to let the kids handle it.
What was the outcome? Both mothers took my advice, and the boy and girl handled the situation by the end of the same day, remaining friends. Sometimes things are not a big deal to even those directly involved until others decide to interfere (Oops! Help, I mean.)
There was an episode of The Andy Griffith Show in which Barney found an old file about a case of Floyd and Mr. Foley having an altercation years before. It seems the case was never solved, and Barney determined that the file needed to be put to rest. Obviously, Floyd and Mr. Foley, whose businesses were right next door to each other, I believe, hadn’t had a problem in all the ensuing years until Barney interfered.
We now live in a society that seems bent on trying to either change history or at least remove all evidences of unpleasantness from view. It grieves my heart to hear of a statue that has its own history that has been desecrated, removed or destroyed by those who are in some way offended. Sadly, everyone is offended by something. I could name you a few things that offend me, but I don’t expect a building to be torn down or a book burned to prevent others from learning from the past and being enabled to form their own opinions.
I remember Ms. Vauda Lee Needham having our American history class at Horace Maynard High School reenact the Constitutional Convention. I have every confidence that an experienced, effective teacher could guide a class in a reenactment of a slave auction as a superior learning experience. The sensitivities of others would indeed need consideration. The makeup and history of the community would be a mitigating factor. Great care would have to be taken to ensure that no inappropriate language was allowed and that no student was made to feel uncomfortable with the experience.
I remember learning in a reading methods class in my master’s degree program at Lincoln Memorial University about a teacher who was trying to interest her students in reading. She took a cardboard box that had contained a refrigerator and decorated the outside to look like a giant radio. She then had students pretend they were reporters by having them go inside the “radio” and read news stories to their classmates. This teacher got into trouble for putting students inside a box!
I do not feel it a good idea to put a child inside a dark box as punishment, but I thought this was a great teaching idea! I might have used it myself had I thought of it. I personally see nothing wrong with it, especially if the top was removed or other means used to allow light inside the box. When I was a child, I would have loved to be allowed to sit inside a giant cardboard box in school and pretend that I was reporting news on a radio.
I loved playing with cardboard boxes when I was a youngster. I have heard others talk about the great gift they thought they were giving their children, only to find them set aside for the joy of playing with the cardboard boxes that contained the gifts.
I remember one fine winter day when I was a child. I took an old cardboard box and made a “car” out of it. My wiring was the many-colored ties used on “light” bread “pokes”, while my chrome was used aluminum foil. I remember what fun it was on that dreary winter afternoon to crash that Mincey mobile against the tongue and groove, pine walls of the house. Then I would have to make repairs, the closest I ever came to being a mechanic.
I also remember once making a church out of cardboard and aluminum foil. It was a cheap precursor to the ceramic churches I was later to own, and I had no fear of breaking my crude creation.
Internet is filled with ideas for creative uses of cardboard. Most of my experiences have been related to moving and storage. I learned that different strengths of cardboard are required for different materials. For example, stronger, smaller cardboard boxes are necessary for books as thin cardboard comes apart easily. Though a large, strong box may hold many hardback books, the box may quickly become too heavy to carry without risk of injury to the back.
I have also had some experience with burning cardboard. Cardboard is like a lot of things in life—it flares quickly, generates great heat, then just as quickly dissolves to ashes and loses its heat. Kind of reminds me of a Baptist wedding—months to plan, costs a small fortune, over in twenty minutes or less.
Cardboard is most unpleasant when it gets wet. Recently the sump pump in my basement failed, and I am still recovering from the water damage. Wet cardboard stinks and becomes weak and slimy to the touch, allowing anything stored inside to become wet and ruined.
Think how different life would be without cardboard to store and move our stuff! This and these other wonderful thoughts I leave with you this week, Dear Reader, until we meet again through the printed word.

Went to an antique show and people were bidding on—me!
Becoming an adult is the dumbest thing I have ever done.
When I was a kid I wanted to be older. This is not what I expected.
It's probably my age that tricks people into thinking I'm an adult.
Some people seem to have aged like fine wine.
I aged like milk ... I got sour and chunky.

I was always taught to respect my elders,
but it keeps getting harder to find one.

Experience is the thing you have left
when everything else is gone.