Monthly Archives: August 2009

School Days

Summer vacation ends with a thud tomorrow.  Each year it’s the same:  One day a kid’s free as a cat; the next he’s trapped, chained to the rhythm of the school calendar for 10 long months.

King's Highway Elementary School, Westport CTSome youngsters love this time of year; they’re eager to greet old friends, and meet new ones.  Or they can’t wait for the smell of newly waxed floors, the security of assigned seats, the praise they know will be lavished on them day after day.

Others abhor it.  The thought of entering a strange building filled with strange faces, or trying to be part of a group of peers who won’t accept them, or of sitting for hours at a time, doing work they can’t stand, is excruciating — even physically sickening.

Around this time each year, I think about the entire school experience.  I wonder which kindergartner will hate school for the rest of the year because his teacher makes a face the morning he throws up in front of everyone, and which will love school because an aide congratulates her the afternoon she almost puts on her coat all by herself.

Green's Farms Elementary School, WestportWhich 1st grader will invent any excuse not to go to gym because he can’t throw a ball, and which will get through the school day only because he knows gym is coming soon?

Which 4th grader will walk meekly into class each morning with just 1 ambition — to get through the day without anyone noticing how ugly, or stupid, or poorly dressed she is — and which will look back on 4th grade as a turning point in her life because a guidance counselor took the time to talk to her, to show her how to comb her hair better, to make her feel good about herself?

Which 5th grader will have a teacher who does nothing when she catches him cheating on a test — too much effort to raise such a touchy issue — and which will have a teacher who scares him so much when he’s caught that he vows to never cheat in school again?

Which 6th grader will enter middle school intent on making a name for himself as the best fighter in his class, and which with the aim of never getting a grade lower than an A?  Which 6th grader’s ambition will change, and which will remain the same?

Bedford Middle School, WEstport CT

Which 9th grader will temper his fledgling interest in current events with the feeling “it’s retarded; no one else in class cares,” and which will visit the New York Times website every day because her class is working on “this really neat project”?

Which 10th grader will hate English because all she does is read stupid books assigned by the stupid teacher from some stupid list, and which will go to Barnes & Noble on his own for the first time because his teacher suggests there are more books by the same author he might enjoy?

Which 12th grader will have the brains to apply to 3 Ivy League schools, but lack the common courtesy to thank a teacher who wrote glowing recommendation to all of them?  And which will slip a note in a teacher’s box the morning of graduation that says, “Thanks.  I’m really glad I had you this year”?

It’s easy to wrap our school years in nostalgic gauze, or try to stuff the bad memories down our mental garbage disposals.

We also tend not to think in concrete terms about what goes on inside school walls every day.  Learning, we assume, happens.  Kids read, write, use computers, draw, eat and see their friends.

We seldom realize how much of an impact this institution we call “school” has on our kids.  Or how much it has had on us.

Staples HS, Westport CT

Man Oh Manolo

Manolo Restaurant, Westport CTA few days ago, “06880″ tripped down Memory Lane with recollections of the bajillion Westport restaurants that have served their last wasabi-crusted tuna, waffles or whatever.

Now we focus on a new restaurant.  Manolo recently opened in the Church Street space formerly occupied by Zest.  Here’s one reader’s report:

Bottom line, the experience was fantastic.  They serve full and half-sized meals, so we ordered a bunch of dishes and ate tapas-style.

Most of the dishes — the steak, chicken, tuna tartare, risotto, polenta — were fantastic, but I worked a bit too hard to clear out the bones of the snapper and sardines.

I forget what we had for appetizers — oh, the squid (or was it the octopus?) — was a bit tough, but still good.

The waiters and everyone we came in contact with were super-nice.  Maybe best of all, it was really reasonably priced.  I think the most expensive item was the full-sized portion of the steak, at $28 (that might also have been the tastiest dish).

We didn’t have any dessert, having eaten too much to leave any room for more.

Sounds good to me.  And if you — like our reviewer — feel stuffed, the Y is right across the street.

Mike Aitkenhead: Westport’s Inspiring Teacher Of The Year

As a child, Mike Aitkenhead wanted to save the world.  He just didn’t know how.

By college he figured it out:  He’d be a scientist.  That way he could discover an innovative technology, or unearth a dramatic new theory.  Inspired, he graduated in 3 years.

During a year off to find the perfect graduate program, Mike taught field ecology to New York City public school students in an overnight environmental education program.  He also substitute taught grades 6 through 12.

Teaching came naturally to Mike.  Now he was truly inspired.

Yet he still felt he could change the world as a scientist.  He spent 3 years in a dual Ph.D program.  While the experience was intellectually stimulating, it was not inspiring.

Mike spent those 3 years thinking constantly of his time as a teacher — the impact he had on students, and the sense of accomplishment he felt each day.

He realized that he was meant to teach.  His contribution to the world would come not through his discoveries, but by inspiring an army of young minds to make their own.

“I became a teacher to ‘save the world,’” Mike says.  “I have never felt so fulfilled, inspired or close to my goal as I do now.”

Mike Aitkenhead, in his Staples lab.

Mike Aitkenhead, in his Staples lab.

No teacher enters education seeking personal honors.  That’s good, because few ever get them.

Mike is lucky.  He’s been named Westport’s Teacher of the Year, and this week he took time out from preparing his classroom and labto accept heartfelt congratulations from colleagues, students and parents.

“I’m the 1st to admit that I’m no master of teaching pedagogy,” he says.  “I have so much more to learn about the teaching profession.

“But I believe deeply and passionately in what I teach.  You can’t fake passion, and real passion is infectious.”  He is pleased that students and colleagues recognize his passion — and his efforts to turn passion into action.

Mike teaches Advanced Placement Environmental Education at Staples.  Mike believes every student at Stales should have some exposure to the important topic he teaches.  He’s doing his part:  In the 3 years since he took over AP Environmental, it has gone from 3 sections to 7.

Mike is inspired by more than numbers.  He is heartened to see his students take an active role in environmental issues — whether at Staples or in the Westport community.  He also is inspired to hear students tell him they’ll study the subject in college.  Some even major in it.

“I feel that students leave my class with the honest belief that their actions can make a difference in the world,” he says.  “I can think of no greater accomplishment than that.”

Three Shots

Westport — long known as an artists’ colony — has been home to photographers too.  For a few years, we were even the site of the Famous Photographers’ School.

Today, though, is our true photographic heyday.  Three of the top photojournalists in the world hail from Westport.  All attended Staples  in the 1980s.

American Photo Magazine’s current issue includes — in a story on small-town newspapers — this amazing trio:  Tyler Hicks, Spencer Platt and Lynsey Addario.

Tyler Hicks was there in Baghdad during the early days of the Iraq war. (Photo courtesy of the New York Times)

Tyler Hicks was in Baghdad during the early days of the Iraq war. (Photo courtesy of the New York Times)

Hicks and Platt both started their professional careers not in Westport, but at the small Troy (Ohio) Daily News. Hicks moved quickly to the New York Times, where since 2001 he has covered the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Platt now works for Getty Images.  He photographed the Israel-Lebanon conflict of 2006 (and won the World Press Photo of the Year award for his shot of grinning Lebanese girls in front of a devastated building).  He also worked in Iraq, Liberia, Congo and Indonesia.

Lynsey Addario took these striking images of Darfur.  (Photo courtesy of Lynsey Addario)

Lynsey Addario took these striking images of Darfur. (Photo courtesy of Lynsey Addario)

Addario — another prize-winner — is a noted Times photographer herself.

The American Photo Magazine piece examines the role small-town newspapers play in a photographer’s career — and what those photos mean to a community.  In the internet age, photographers lament the loss of a reliable, professional outlet for their work.

Platt says of his early days:  “We awoke each morning excitedly going through the paper to see how big our images appeared.  Front page, a photo spread, a bad crop, 6 columns, color, black and white.  We were either mortified or euphoric.”

He recalls covering his 1st tragedy:  a car accident outside of Troy.  He photographed a grieving mother.

In the years since, he says, he has covered wars and disasters throughout the world.  But the 1 person he will never forget is “that young man spread out in the field under a beautiful blue sky.  It was my introduction to the news.”

Karl Decker Remembers Ted Kennedy

Karl Decker, a longtime English instructor at Staples High School, sent along this recollection of the “Lion of the US Senate”:

Ted Kennedy, circa 1964

Ted Kennedy, in earlier days.

Smilin’ Ed was his nickname at our prep school:  Milton Academy.  He was in my class.  He was not a “friend”; his locker in the gym was next to mine.  He used to sting my naked butt, snapping a wet towel at me.  I got back at him one day by crushing graham crackers to powder in his jacket pocket.

He was a boarding student, and in retrospect, one among the many who led fairly lonely lives away from their families.  And there was a fair social separation between the day students and the boarders.  We rarely had any serious contact — at least that I recall.

He giggled a lot, fell asleep in class, squirmed in his chair, was often glancing around to attract attention, as the butt of practical jokes — but weren’t we all at that time trying to find ways to affirm ourselves, to be noticed, to find a way to relate, maybe not even aware of who or what we were?  Let alone what we might become.

Once I was invited to an afternoon social tea at the Kennedy home in Jamaica Plain.  I think Bobby and JFK were there.  I recall nothing more.  But I did go to our 20th Milton Academy reunion in Boston in 1970, and he was there.

I found myself on the deck of a luxurious condominium overlooking Boston Harbor.  He and I, oddly, were alone for a moment — except for one other man, not a graduate, in a dark suit standing nearby.  The Secret Service had been assigned to him after JFK’s death several years before.

Ted approached me, addressed me by name, we looked out over the ships in the harbor, and we chatted some I guess, but I recall him suddenly saying, “Karl, I no longer have any private life.  I can’t go to a store alone, I can’t go to the movies, I can’t walk on the street or the beach.  I am always accompanied by the Secret Service…”

That is all I factually recall.  Of course I followed his career — and watched him truly become a great man, seriously a dedicated champion of the social causes that even today need to be sustained and augmented.

Y So Long

Ed Backus learned to swim there, in the 1930s.  Wini Balboni brought her kids there every Sunday.  Miggs Burroughs remembers meeting a few of the original Mickey Mouse Club members there.

“There” is the Westport YMCA.  It’s been a local institution for over 85 years.  And — no offense — a few Westporters have been members almost as long.

In 2009, Aqua Fitness classes are some of the Westport Y's most popular offerings

In 2009, Aqua Fitness classes are some of the Westport Y's most popular offerings

As it looks ahead to a new building, the Y is honoring all those who have stuck with the old one — any Y anywhere, for that matter — for at least 25 years.  Quarter-century members are eligible for the Ambassador Club, and will be honored at a ceremony September 17.

Ed Backus is not quite as old as the Westport Y — he’s pushing 80 — but he’s been a member for over 70 years.

“I think you had to be 8 to join,” he says.  As soon as he became a member, Ed learned to swim.

In the 1940s and ’50s, Ed says, “I used everything.  Back then it was probably the finest Y in the country, for the size of the town.  The pool was only 60 yards, but not many towns had a pool at all.  The Y was the center of activity for Westport.”

Athletic banquets were held upstairs, in what was then an auditorium with an adjacent kitchen.  There was bowling downstairs, with constant pickup basketball games in the gym.

Wini Balboni, a 50-year member, recalls throwing a hockey puck into the pool every Sunday.  Her 3 boys loved diving for it.  At night they’d be so exhausted, they went right to bed.

In the mid-1950s, Wini’s kids went to the Y’s Camp Mahackeno.  They swam in the Saugatuck River, dove underneath the enormous “Moby Dick” life raft, and swung from the Merritt Parkway bridge rope.

These days Wini uses the pool, and enjoys Aqua Fitness classes.  “It helps old ladies like me stay limber,” she says.

She tried the cardio machines, but hasn’t gone back.  “There are mirrors everywhere,” she says.  “I don’t like looking at myself when I exercise.”

Phyllis McCoy — whose 4 children became lifeguards after learning to swim at the Y — still does laps every morning, at 6:45.  She also takes an exercise class for seniors.

“The staff is the most caring group I can think of,” says Phyllis.  “With the slightest problem, they bend over backwards.”

Camp Mahackeno campers, back in the day. Some may still be Y members.

Camp Mahackeno campers, back in the day. Some may still be Y members.

As for Miggs Burroughs — a member for 53 years — his 1st memory is when Jimmy and Darlene of the Mickey Mouse Club (and maybe Annette) came to the Y.  “We all gathered in the gym.  I think they showed a movie, and then they danced or sang.”  Miggs has “no idea” how the Westport Y rated a visit from those megastars.

These days, Miggs goes to the fitness center a few days a week at 5:45 a.m.  He also uses the pool.

Miggs says he’s remained a member for so long because the Y is “such a great community resource and center of activities.  It hasn’t yet lost its hometown personality and charm.  Going to the Y today feels exactly like it felt 50 years ago.”

Ahem.  The Y — as great as it is, and despite the 1970s addition — is showing its age.  How do the Ambassador Club members feel about the proposed move to Mahackeno?

“The people I speak with — families with children — are about 50 percent not in favor,” Phyllis says.  “I don’t know if they can get the financial support.”

As for the location:  “I don’t know how I could have survived all that taxiing of several kids, if I had had to go all the way out on Wilton Road,” Phyllis adds.

Miggs feels differently:  “Some things will change with the new Y, in terms of the building itself.  But if they can transfer the same spirit of community inside the walls, then I’m all for it.”

Stop, Thief!

Like many people, I read the Sunday New York Times when I can.  Despite the plunge in advertising, it’s still a formidable paper.

That’s why I didn’t see last Sunday’s Metropolitan section story on Westport until now.

This is not a drawing of the Westport bank robber

This is not a drawing of the Westport bank robber

The piece describes the upsurge in bank robberies along the “Gold Coast.”  It highlights a recent robbery at the TD Bank branch on Charles Street, across from Luciano Park.  The suspect drove away in a very “Gold Coast” black BMW.

Yet despite popular perception that the crime wave has roots in the bad economy, an FBI agent says no.  “We have yet to run into a guy who says, ‘I robbed a bank because my 401(k) tanked.”

Law enforcement authorities believe, however, that as banks become more user-friendly by lowering counters and acting real friendly — moves tied, no doubt, to the hits they’ve taken to their bottom lines and reputations — robbers notice.  And pounce.

And, the Times notes, in places like Westport, black BMWs still “blend in better than most getaway cars.”

Passion Parties – Yeah, They’re Pretty Much What You Think

This is a typical Passion Party. The photo was not, however, taken in Westport.

This is a typical Passion Party. The photo was not, however, taken in Westport.

Sandra Mejia is an independent contractor.  She organizes house parties where women chat, play games, and end up buying products.

“It’s like Tupperware, but with a twist,” Sandra explains.  “This is more fun.”

A lot more fun.

Sandra throws Passion Parties.  You could also – kids, leave the room right now! — call them Adult Toy Parties.

Sandra does not sell cereal storers or cupcake containers.  Her best-selling product is Pure Satisfaction Enhancement Gel.  “It warms things up, if you know what I mean,” she says.

We do.

Tupperware parties take care of one human need:  food.

Passion Parties — and she’s held more in Westport than she can count — take care of another.

Sandra Mejia

Sandra Mejia

“People wonder — they have misconceptions,” Sandra admits.  “But this is very tasteful.  We educate women.  They may not know about lotions, bath products or edibles.”  Or toys.

Her Westport parties attract the same type of women as her other affairs, throughout Connecticut and New York.  “It runs from the very innocent, to the women who are looking for something very sophisticated,” Sandra says.

Some women arrive at her parties hesitantly — wondering what friends or neighbors might think.  Others are raring to go.

The private home parties “take away the pressure of going to an adult store,” Sandra notes.  “And all the ordering is very confidential.”

Her parties follow a pattern.  She starts with bath products, and works her way up to, um, toys.  In between, games produce plenty of laughter — and, Sandra hopes, enough ease to sell sensual stuff.

Pure Satisfaction Enhancement Gel -- Sandra's best-selling product

Pure Satisfaction Enhancement Gel -- Sandra's best-selling product

Passion Parties are Sandra’s full-time work.  Despite tough economic times, her business has increased 70 percent recently.

“People may not spend money on restaurants or vacations,” she says.  “But they have their priorities straight, because they spend it on romance products.”

The next Westport Passion Party is October 10.  If you can’t wait until then, Sandra offers “06880″ readers a 20 percent discount on online orders.  Click here, and use the coupon code “Westport.”

“06880″:  Serving Westport women’s romantic needs since 2009.

(For more information, click here.  You can also call 866-9LOVING, or email Sandra:  creatingyourpassion@gmail.com)

The Library Listens

The Westport Library knows what teenagers want:  Free movie rentals.  A place to study, without actually being library-quiet.  Professionals who are waiting — no, eager — to help with research projects.

With all those perks, the library is trying to improve.

The staff has devised a survey aimed at high school students and recent graduates (Classes 2007 to 2013).  All questions focus on the library needs of high school students.

They help you — now you can help them.  Click here to take the (quick) survey.

Hoping to avoid stressing out students, the Westport Library is surveying them to figure out what they need.

Hoping to avoid stressing out students, the Westport Library is surveying them to figure out what they need.

A Community Comes Together

Preston Hirten

Preston Hirten

The circumstances were tragic.  But the response of the Westport community was loving, gratifying — and overwhelming.

Preston Hirten’s death at age 20 Tuesday afternoon is incomprehensible.  Yet it brought out the best in Westport.

Some people here knew Preston well.  Others only admired him from the top of the Staples soccer field, or knew his mother or sisters, or his father from the Country Liquor Store he owned.

But quietly and expertly, all came together to help the family — and each other — cope with an unfathomable loss.

Some organized a magnificent ceremony Friday evening at the Staples field.  Small but significant details — lighting candles in the shape of Preston’s soccer number 15, so that as darkness fell at the end, everyone gazed upon the beautiful, riveting scene — made a tearful occasion truly wondrous.

Other people did whatever they could.  They provided water for Saturday’s moving (but very hot) service at the Unitarian Church.  They donated mattresses so Preston’s 25 University of Mary Washington teammates could sleep together in 1 house here Friday night — and a pool for them to cool off in before Saturday’s memorial.

Some picked people up at airports, or drove relatives around.  Others simply provided a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, an ear to listen.

This is not the 1st time such a tragedy has rocked Westport, and it won’t be the last.  It is simply the freshest and most raw.

As a soccer player Preston drew his team together, helping his boys form a tight, immutable bond.  In death, he drew his town together.  This week, we all proudly played on Preston’s team.