Mon dieu!

While that’s not the extent of my French ability, it’s close.

It’s all ALM’s fault.

If you didn’t go to school in the 1960s, you missed out didn’t miss anything. ALM was a language instruction method rooted in rote repetition. Wikipedia says it was “discredited as a teaching methodology in 1970,” but those of us who suffered through it then (and after) in Westport have it seared in our brains.

“Où est Sylvie? A la piscine.”

“La neige est belle aujourd-hui.”

And something about mounting a balcony. Plus, of course, Monsieur et Madame Thibault.

Other victims students from that era have similar ridiculous and basically useless sentences embedded in our memories, crowding out anything remotely resembling vocabulary, grammar or the rest of the French language.

Which is not to say that learning French at Long Lots Junior High School was not memorable.

My 8th grade teacher was Carmen Delgado. A large, imposing and very loud woman, she was — as her name implies — not French, French-Canadian or even Cajun, but rather Puerto Rican.

Louis Pasteur, a French scientist who gained fame for inventing a cure for rabbis.

English was probably her 3rd language, which is why she said such things as “Louis Pasteur invented a cure for rabbis.”

At least that is understandable. What were 13-year-olds to make of “Daniel, what is it you are staring at? The moon of Valencia?”

I have obviously remembered at least as much English from Mademoiselle Delgado as I have French.

Also cemented into my cerebrum is a play we produced, “Astérix et Cléopâtre.” Based on what Mademoiselle assured us were very popular French cartoon figures, it probably broke every licensing law in the books. How she had the cojones to charge admission — it was only $1, but back then that was real francs — to watch us mangle the French language is beyond me. Yet that was part of Mademoiselle’s charm.

As it turns out, I have not had many opportunities to show off my lack of French. I have traveled to 5 continents, and over 3 dozen countries, but only one of them was French-speaking. (It was France, of all places). It did not snow there, and I did not need to know that Sylvie was at the pool, but I managed to eat, drink and find the bathroom (salle de bain).

I even was able — thanks to Monsieur et Madame Thibault — to know which door to use.

The snow is beautiful today. Is that Monsieur Thibault on his bicyclette?

It’s an off-year election.  Local races never matter.

Right?

• Everyone knows the budget gets set in back-room negotiations.
• The Board of Ed will make the same decisions about curriculum, classroom sizes, start times, standardized tests, salaries and everything else no matter who’s on it.
• Nothing the P&Z says will stop developers and homeowners from doing what they want.
• WTF is the RTM?

So definitely, don’t vote on Tuesday.  Far better to stay home.

And use the time writing letters to the editor (and emailing “06880″) complaining about everything that’s wrong with our elected officials.

Whether we vote or not, Westport will still be a lovely, leafy suburban community. Or an ugly, overbuilt town. (Photo/FromtheAir.com)

He also felt guilty.  “I thought, ‘they recognized me, but what have I done for Westport?’” the trumpeter, composer and movie producer asked recently.

Though he lives in New York, he vowed to do more.

Josh enjoys working with kids.  He’s doing that now, teaching pro bono “master classes” for trumpeters at Staples and Coleytown Middle School.

Josh Frank

He talks with the students about trumpet fundamentals — but ties the instrument in with the real world.  “Music doesn’t exist by itself, or in a box,” he says.  “The lessons that come out of it — practice regimens, connecting with people — they’re so important in life.”

His students like to hear about his own post-Staples career.  He’s recorded a film score for a Francis Ford Coppola movie; performed at Central Park’s SummerStage with Yo-Yo Ma and Bobby McFerrin; been featured on camera in “Royal Pains”; recorded a commercial for IBM; toured as a soloist with the New York Symphonic Ensemble; helped found a chamber orchestra that’s been featured on Channel 13; and performed with his “Batteries Duo” group at various sites in Minneapolis — including the Apple Store.

The Staples (Class of 2000), Juilliard and Manhattan School of Music grad has recorded with David Byrne, and toured Japan with Boyz II Men.

Who says you can’t make a living doing what you love?

Josh Frank in action.

As if that’s enough, Josh has started teaching privately in Westport.  He’s got a few trumpet students already, but has room for one or two more.

He can relate to plenty of kids in town.

“When I first started playing, in 5th grade at King’s Highway, I was like every other kid in band,” he recalls.  “I loved it, but I had no idea where it would lead.”

But his teachers and parents encouraged and supported him.  Gregg Winters, Nick Mariconda, Adele Valovich — all those Westport instructors and more have helped make him who he is.

And now Josh Frank is paying it — and playing it — back.

And forward.

(To contact Josh, email josh@joshfrankmusic.com, or call 917-742-6040.  Click here for his website.)

But the Board of Ed is important.  It’s the biggest part by far of the town budget, as we all know.

Still, it takes an involved citizen to sift through position papers, and listen to board candidates natter on about ERGs, CAPTs and whatnot.

If you want to know more, though, there’s one event you shouldn’t miss.

It’s this Wednesday (November 2, 7-9 p.m., Staples High School library).

It’s a “forum” — not a debate — and even better, it’s sponsored by an organization that has a true stake in this election:  Staples Student Assembly.

Someone who’s been to a past forum calls it “the most interesting” pre-election session.

“Others are scripted and boring,” this education-watcher says.

“At Staples they asked about teaching intelligent design, open campus and other good topics.”

Herman Cain is not on the Westport Board of Ed ballot.  But — if we’re lucky — a high school student or two might come up with questions that elicit Cain-like answers that reveal something fascinating about this year’s candidates.

For better, or worse.

Steinman used his discoveries to treat himself for pancreatic cancer.  But he lost his 4-year battle on September 30 — 3 days before he was announced as the Nobel winner.

Posthumous Nobels are not allowed.  But the Foundation determined this one had been awarded in good faith.  The honor stood.

Ralph Steinman, Nobel winner -- and Westporter.

Yes, an intriguing — probably even made-for-TV movie — story.  But in the swirl of publicity around Dr. Steinman the Nobel awardee, little was said about Ralph Steinman the husband, father and longtime resident.

Last weekend his twin daughters, Lesley and Alexis, talked about their dad.

He’d worked at Rockefeller since 1971, but he and his wife Claudia wanted to raise their family outside New York City.  They moved first to Sleepy Hollow, but the schools weren’t good enough.  Firm believers in public education, they heard about Westport from friends, investigated, and were sold — in large part because of the schools.

“It was the best of both worlds,” Lesley says.  “He loved the beach, he could commute to New York, and we could get a great education.”

The Steinmans moved here in 1983:  2nd-graders Lesley and Alexis, and their 5th-grade brother Adam.

Ralph Steinman with his 3 young kids, at their North Avenue home.

“Dad worked all the time,” Alexis says.  “He’d take stacks of journals to the beach.  Around the house he gardened, chopped firewood and barbecued.  He relished being ‘in the country,’ but his life was work.”

A world renowned scientist does plenty of traveling.  “He was away an insane amount,” Lesley says.  “There were meetings all over the planet.  But he never got to see any of the places.”

He spent years trying to convince skeptics that his dendritic cell immunology work had merit.

His world, Alexis says, “wasn’t Westport.  It was the scientific community.  That’s why he chilled out whenever he got back here.”

Steinman relished taking his children to to his Rockefeller lab.  “There were pipettes, centrifuges, and mice that he would touch and make them pee.  It was very cool,” Lesley laughs.

Steinman said he had no hobbies — though he skied and played tennis — and “he told all the kids we were way too multi-faceted to go into science,” Alexis says.  She and her sister both live on the West Coast, and are involved in artistic endeavors.  Adam has a law degree from Yale.

“It’s interesting:  Dad taught us to be good scientists without explicitly couching it as ‘science,’” Lesley says.

“He taught us to be critical thinkers, to make decisions based on sound data, to collaborate and not compete, and to work hard.  He never pressured us to go into the natural sciences, but he always encouraged us to be good scientists.”

When Steinman was diagnosed with cancer in 2007, he convinced doctors to harvest his dendritic cells, so he could grow his own and do his own therapy.  “They don’t let many people take their own tumors out of the hospital and work on them,” Lesley notes.

“Luckily he had success.  That, and chemotherapy, helped him live as long as he did.”

The Steinman family, in a recent photo.

Also in 2007 Steinman won the Lasker Award — the “American Nobel.”  He knew that might lead to a Nobel — which he hoped to get, because it would generate more support for his research — but when he did not win it in 2008 or 2009, Lesley says, “he just went back to work.”

He died this year without learning he’d won the Nobel Prize — though, Lesley says, “we like to think he knows he got it.”

In the days following his death, they’ve heard from hundreds of Steinman’s colleagues and former students.  As often happens, his wife and children have learned a lot they never knew.

“He was a matchmaker in the lab!” Alexis says with surprise.  “We found out about all these marriages he helped arrange, and all the kids that resulted.”

“We got a lot of emails from renowned scientists who came through his lab,” Lesley says.  “They talked about how inspired they were by him.  They said they carry his excitement with them, and now they use his lessons with their own students.”

His children also discovered “how proud he was of us,” says Alexis.  “I work in costumes in L.A.  I never knew he was so impressed with Lesley and my creativity, and that he knew how hard we work.”

At the same time, Alexis adds, “We told his colleagues and students how much he thought of them, because he always told us.  But they didn’t know.  I think that was how he kept all of us from being spoiled.”

Claudia and Ralph Steinman

While Steinman was a “father” to so many scientists — and was often away from home — Claudia did most of the child-rearing (while pursuing a full-time career in real estate).

“They complemented each other so well,” Lesley says.  “They were very different, but very much in love.  They were always so affectionate with each other.

“And he always said he would not have been as successful without her love and support.”

But they’re not letting grass produce grow under their feet.  They’re also busy organizing upcoming events — all the way through the summer.

Weekend gardening workshops for adults will start “sooner rather than later.”

In November Erin Ostreicher, a rising star in the world of flower arranging, hosts a Thanksgiving Centerpiece workshop.  Events include cornucopias, hollowing out pumpkins to fill with flowers, spilling over with gourds and flowers, and more.

December brings a wreath-making workshop, with perhaps a holiday tea and tree trimming event.

Wakeman Town Farm will soon hum with activity.

Looking further ahead, a summer “Junior Farmer Camp” for kindergarteners through 2nd graders (called “Homesteaders”) will include animal husbandry (aka collecting eggs from nesting boxes, plus feeding chickens, bunnies and goats); tending a garden, harvesting veggies and turning them into delicious snacks, and making crafts from whatever the Homesteaders grow.

The camp’s 3rd through 5th graders will do all of the above activities, along with a more intensive botany/animal biology curriculum.  They’ll start plants from seed; do succession planting, harvesting and trellising, and enjoy arts and crafts that are age appropriate for this “more mature” set.

Middle school “apprentices” start before the summer.  Youngsters sign up for the full year (as an after-school activity), with the option of staying on throughout the summer.  They’ll learn about farming from seed to harvest — and all things in between.

High school internships — including the special last-quarter-of school senior internship program — will also continue.

Parks and Rec is promoting many of the Town Farm activities.

Who says there’s nothing new under the sun?

Plenty of readers posted answers online, with recollections dating back to 1941.

But that’s not the half of it.

According to Jennifer Robson, administrative assistant to the superintendent, additional sleuthing in the Town Hall vaults showed records of 4- and 5-year-olds being educated as far back as the late 1800s.

In 1916 — the 1st year that record books actually describe children by grade (not just age) — the Bridge Street School (predecessor to the original Saugatuck Elementary School, on [duh] Bridge Street) had a “sub-primary grade,” filled with 4- and 5- year-olds.

By 1918, there were 26 students in what the Bridge Street School actually called “kindergarten.”

Student rosters read like a hit parade of old time Westport names: DeMatttio, Gilbertie, Saponare, Valiante, Tedesco, Cribari, DeFeo, Fiore and Zeoli, among others.

Youngsters at the Bridge Street School, around 1915. Recognize any relatives?

Jennifer says that the other schools in town did not appear to have kindergarten at that point.  They also enrolled far fewer students than the Bridge Street School.

“They seemed to run more like country schoolhouses,” Jennifer notes, “with perhaps 30 students total, spread through grades 1-5.”

What are your recollections of your early school days in Westport?  Click “Comments” to respond.  Let’s limit this one to elementary schools, with no tangents into No Child Left Behind, Obama’s education policy, or anything else please!

One question was:  What year was kindergarten first offered in our schools?

The answer is:  No one is sure.

Records trace Westport kindergarten back to 1953 — but they’re incomplete before that.

So, “06880″ readers:  If you attended kindergarten here any year before Dwight Eisenhower and Queen Elizabeth II took over, click “Comments” and tell us when.

Inquiring minds — and NESDEC — want to know.

Was there kindergarten in Westport in 1952? "06880" readers must know.

Now he’s all grown up — 5! — and ready to start school.  She asked for a copy of the story.  Here it is:  For parents of new students, old students, students themselves, and anyone else who has ever gone to school.

Summer vacation ends with a thud this week (we hope).  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.

Some 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 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.

Which 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?

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.

I’m addicted to TED.

Ted is not a person, though human beings are an integral part of TED.  The acronym stands for Technology, Entertainment and Design, but the tagline says it best:  “Ideas Worth Spreading.”

TED talks — available on its website — are bite-sized videos (18 minutes max) packed with compelling, mind-boggling lectures on topics as diverse as the life that teems throughout the universe, the world of penguins, and the upcoming “demise of guys.”

Like crack or heroin, once you’ve taken a hit of TED, you need more, more, more.

And just as certain drugs are “gateways” to others, TED leads to TEDx.

TEDx is a program of local, self-organized events that bring people together to share TED-like experiences.  This Tuesday (August 23, 10 a.m. to 1 p.m.), the Westport Library hosts a TEDx event.

In keeping with both TED and the library’s focuses on the future, this TEDx will examine what today’s innovators and tomorrow’s leaders are thinking — from finding new ways to live in a technologically integrated world, to helping senior citizens in their homes, and more.

And who better to explore those ideas than teenagers?

Ben Meyers — a June graduate of Staples, where he organized Ecofest — spearheads the upcoming TEDx.

Presenters on Tuesday include rising Staples seniors Carson Einarsen, Logan Rosen and Isaac Stein, and recent grad Adam Yormark.

If you’ve never seen a TED video — or been to a TEDx event — go.  You will be inspired, provoked, challenged and energized.

Not to mention, addicted.

(Click here for free online advance registration — it’s required.  PS:  Lunch will be served.)

It also elicited this story from an “06880″ reader, who wished to remain anonymous.

I had Shirley Hodes for Latin at Staples.   She was also the advisor to Inklings, so I spent a fair amount of time with her.  She was a wonderful teacher.

Most of the kids were goofballs and rowdy in her Latin class.  But she plugged on, determined to teach us something about language, history and life in general.

As earnest as she was about teaching, she was far from naïve.  Once, during a test, she said to the class:  “I’m going to step out of the room for a minute.  I would appreciate it if everyone stopped cheating until I get back.”  She was so ironic that way.  I loved her class.

A trip to Pompeii inspires a postcard.

About a dozen years after I graduated, in the summer of 1998, I was traveling in Italy and visited the ruins of Pompeii.  In Latin class we had an entire unit built around a fictional family living in Pompeii, shortly before the volcano decimated the city.  So of course it reminded me of Mrs. Hodes.

I bought a postcard, wrote a note thanking her for her meaningful class and the influence it had on me, but (in that pre-internet era) I did not have her address.  So I called my mom from Italy, told her about the postcard, and asked her to please check the phonebook and call Mrs. Hodes to get her address (I recalled that she lived in Weston or Wilton).

A few days later, still in Italy, I called my mom back for the address.  She was all shaken up.

She said:  “You’re not going to believe this.  I found the number and called the house.  A man answered.  I asked if this was the residence of Shirley Hodes, the teacher at Staples.

“He asked me why I was calling, and I told him.  He said she died 2 days ago.”

I couldn’t believe it.  I was so upset that she didn’t get my postcard.  But I did the next best thing:  I mailed it anyway, hoping her relatives would get it and know that she was appreciated.

It’s amazing:  Sometimes the coincidences in life are stranger than the wildest fiction.

Media production teacher Jim Honeycutt wanted something real, authentic and important for them.

Meanwhile, superintendent of schools Elliott Landon and director of human resources Marge Cion needed a video to show job candidates — potential teachers — what the Westport school district is all about.

It sounded like a great idea.  But it turned out nothing like what the educators expected.

Whew.

“I originally thought it would be a recruitment-type thing — very factual, not real personal,” Dr. Landon says.

That’s not what Jeremy and Dustin had in mind.

The longtime friends decided to revisit their old schools, and talk to former teachers.

They took their video camera to King’s Highway Elementary  School and Coleytown Middle.  There — and of course at Staples — they conducted interviews and shot film.  They researched the schools and town, added special footage, and produced a professional-looking video that gives anyone considering teaching here a unique teenage/inside view of the system.

Which, now that the Westport educators think about it, is entirely the point.

“This really makes a memorable impression,” Dr. Landon notes.  “Their personal insights and affection for the district really come across strongly.  It’s very creative and different.”

In the video, Jeremy and Dustin say that they continue to visit former teachers.  They add, “some of our deepest connections” were made in school.

They filmed a wide variety of teachers:  men and women of different ages, backgrounds and subject matters.

The seniors asked questions like “How did you end up in Westport?”  And, “What do kept you here?”

The answers — delivered in each teacher’s personal style — include concepts like “the environment,” “the experiences,” “the challenge,” “being in the forefront” and “learning from colleagues.”

And — over and over and over again — “the kids.”

Dr. Landon proudly posted the video on the district website’s human resources page.

Before clicking “play,” prospective teachers learn that students here are empowered to use their creativity.

Once they watch the 12-minute video, potential applicants are even more impressed.

“If someone is looking for an environment in which kids themselves say they had a fabulous experience — they loved their teachers, learned a lot and grew here — that will have a real positive impact on the type of people we’re trying to attract,” Dr. Landon says.

Who will then influence the next generations of Dustin Lowmans and Jeremy Dreyfusses, who in turn…

The post drew some thoughtful, thankful comments.  Over 30 people named men and women who had pushed, pulled, cajoled, motivated or otherwise inspired them.

One man actually tracked a teacher down.

“I’m sure you don’t remember me,” he wrote to James McKelvey.

I was an Alfred E. Newman lookalike in the 1961-62 9th grade class of Bedford Junior High School.  I had you in the middle annex building, first class to the right.  I remember well.

You were the first teacher to treat me, a complete goofball, with some respect and actual belief that I had some writing ability.  As a result of your recommendation, I was in Honors English classes at Staples and enjoyed the teaching skills of Higgins-Decker-Chalk.

I still remember that I wrote a paper for you titled “Tricks of the Trade,” regarding techniques a writer uses to convey words.  It might have been my first “A” ever.  I was overjoyed and my parents, always impressed with my older brother’s achievements, took note of my skills.

For this, I will always be indebted to you.  You opened the door for me, as I am sure you have for countless others.

The former pupil described all that had happened since then:  His eventual law degree, followed by an MFA in creative writing — and a dozen books.

He ended with thanks again — from his many old Westport friends, too — and concluded, “You meant a lot to all of us.  Your teaching skills and encouragement remain with us to this day.”

Soon, Mr. McKelvey responded.  His handwriting was a tiny bit shaky — and the penmanship came from a forgotten era — but his sentiments were strong and clear.

“Thanks for the generous compliment you paid me on the website,” he wrote, “as well as for the kind remarks expressed in the letter you mailed me last week.”

With help from your class yearbook, I was readily able to identify you from your picture.  I have enclosed a copy of that page in case your own yearbook has strayed.

As you might image, it is most unusual for a now retired teacher to hear from a former student after nearly a half century.  Even more satisfying and comforting to the retiree is the student’s perception that the teacher had played a major role in inspiring the student to seek and achieve significant success.

With all good wishes for your continued good fortune, I am,

Gratefully yours,

James McKelvey

Think of it:  A former student, now around retirement age himself, finding and thanking someone he spent just an hour a day with, for only 10 months, 50 years ago.

The teacher, the student now realizes, was not much older than he back then.  (In fact, he still is not.)

But the wisdom of those few years — and the fact that he taught, and taught well, and cared about his students — has shaped the younger man’s life forever.

For half a century, the teacher never knew that.

Now he does.

The former student taught his “old” teacher something about remembering, and gratitude, and caring.

And now both of them have passed that lesson on to all of us.

Getting an education is tough — particularly for girls.  The barriers are formidable.  Girls’ status in Tanzania is much lower than boys, so they start school later and drop out earlier.  Many girls pregnant at a young age.  Others are forced into child labor.   Some have been orphaned by AIDS.

An American woman named Polly Dolan spent many years as a consultant for CARE.  In Africa, she saw the urgent need for girls’ education.  In 2007, she opened an all-girls secondary school in Morogoro, Tanzania.

Her childhood friend, Ashley Moran — a 5th grader teacher at Kings Highway Elementary School, and a Westport resident — joined the board of Nurturing Minds in Africa, the new school’s sponsoring organization.

“These girls are desperate for education,” Ashley — who has seen the situation first-hand — says.

Girls who are in school don’t get pregnant as often, or as young, she adds.  And when — thanks to their education — they get jobs, the money they earn stays in Morogor.  Men often leave the community.  “It’s a cultural thing,” Ashley explains.

The school  — called SEGA (Secondary Education for Girls’ Advancement) now has 85 girls, in grades 8-12.  Most are boarders; some are day students.  The goal for 2015 is 200 girls.

SEGA students, and a teacher. It is a Tanzanian tradition for girls to wear very short hair.

There is a strict admissions process, involving tests, interviews and home visits.  Girls are desperate to get in.  One asked the police to tell her mother that they had to send her to SEGA.

Their hope and faith is founded in statistics like these:  In 2009, 96 percent of the girls in the day school program passed a country-wide standardized test.  Nationally, only 49 percent did.

But SEGA does not just teach to tests.  “It’s teaching people how to change their lives,” Ashley says.  “These girls will grow up to take care of themselves.”

By that year too, the school hopes to be self-sustaining, thanks to business help.  Operating costs this year are $160,000.  Construction costs are estimated at $250,000 a year, through 2015.

That’s real money.

Nurturing Minds does what it can to raise funds.  Local businesses chip in.

And, here in Westport, Ashley is getting Westporters involved.

At King’s Highway, she runs a club.  4th and 5th grade boys and girls volunteer to meet during their lunch period and recess.

“Kids that age are the future.  And they believe they can change the world,” Ashley says.

The youngsters learn about SEGA, and educational issues in Africa.  They raise awareness throughout Kings Highway.  This spring they helped organize a walk-a-thon that raised $1,500.  They also gather change from various classrooms — “to create change in Africa,” Ashley notes.  That brought in another $1,000.

“When we talk about this as a cause — and the impact it can have — kids here recognize how lucky they are.  They really do realize how much they have,” Ashley adds.

In mid-July, Ashley and her 3 children head to Morogoro.  They’ll spend 3 weeks there, helping out.

And the bonds between girls hungering for education in Tanzania, and a suburban town in the US with a great school system, will grow even tighter.

And it’s a problem:  After 13 years in school, 2nd-semester seniors always check out mentally.  It’s natural:  Spring settles in, and graduation looms.

But every problem has a solution, and Staples has come up with a great one:  senior internships.

For several years, 12th graders are given the option of spending their final 4 weeks off campus.  They work everywhere imaginable:  law offices, pet stores, marketing agencies, garden shops, wealth management firms, the YMCA, hospitals, schools, newspapers, architects, non-profits, veterinarians,  police departments and more.

They’re given real responsibilities.  They must clock in at least 100 hours.  They have to write weekly “reflections.”  Other than that, they’re on their own.

Ryan Armour learns how to manage wealth at Catamount Wealth Management.

This year, 3/4 of the senior class did internships.  (They must maintain a certain GPA throughout the year to qualify.)  Their experiences vary — as work experiences always do — but for the vast majority, the positives far outweigh the negatives.

They move outside their comfort zones.  They grow as people.  And they gain elusive, crucial “real world experiences.”

Here are a few:

An intern in a university medical lab made a mistake with samples and controls.  She briefly considered trying to cover it up, but realized the integrity of the data was important.  She confessed to her supervisor, who to her surprise “was completely calm and accepting.”  It took the intern over 2 hours to remix the dyes — but it was a lesson she’ll never forget.

When a boss gave her interns the Friday off before EcoFest — because they’d be working on Saturday — they came in anyway.  There was work to be done — and they had a good time doing it.

An intern had to set up paintings for an art show, but had “never really used a hammer.”  He asked how to do it — and now can add that to his skill set.

An elementary school intern wrote:  “Every day of every week so far, there has been a fight between 2 1st graders.  Almost every time, I see the conflict before the teacher.  So I have to solve the conflict on my own.  I calm each of them down, look at it from both of their standpoints, and make each other realize each other’s problems by saying it in a basic way.  So far I have always been able to solve their problems.”

An intern working as a newspaper photographer overcame her fear of approaching strangers in public.  The result:  great photos, one of which appeared on the front page.  “Here, you’re responsible for your own work,” she said.  “It’s your job to have things on time and well executed.  The executive editor complimented my photos, leaving me feeling proud and excited for the future.”

A special needs student interned with a special ed teacher.  The intern was asked to look after an autistic child, who had difficulty staying still.  The intern brought the student to the resource room, and connected with the child.  The site supervisor asked the intern how he’d done so well.  “I laughed because I was doing the same thing they were, only I was a little more assertive,” he said.

Max Berger and Kentaro Higuchi take a brief pause from their work at Gilbertie's Herb Gardens.

One intern — at a major corporation with headquarters in Westport — sat in on a corporate marketing review meeting.  “I received a firsthand look at collaboration between legal, marketing and communication,” he said.  “It was incredibly interesting.”

An intern at an architectural firm spent an entire day on a computer program scaling houses to size.  The next day, he was told to redo the project.  “I learned that it’s always best to talk to your supervisor before making any work final,” he reported.

The lessons learned transcend professional skills.  One intern was invited to a group social event after work on Friday.  She did not go, in part because she was unsure how to act.  But a colleague told her later that socializing was an important part of the workplace.  “I hadn’t realized how important the time spent not working is to both individual work and the group as a whole,” she said.

A life lesson for one intern came from his restaurant supervisor.  “I dealt with some pretty obnoxious people this week,” the intern said.  “My boss gave me a tip:  If they sense fear they’ll take advantage of you.  So be fearless!  As soon as I acted stern and unwavering, people gave me more respect.”

One  girl’s internship came full circle.  Working with flowers, she was surprised to find herself worrying about flowers for her own senior prom.  She fretted about “transporting them, if the wheatgrass would grow properly, how the daisies would fit in, if we would have enough ribbon, etc.”  It all worked out — after which she wrote, “it would seem like something as minuscule as centerpieces for the prom would be easy or nothing to worry about, and you don’t really think about it if you’re not involved in the process.  I’m sure none of the kids at the prom thought about the amount of work and planning and time that went into those vases on their tables, and I’m sure a lot of them barely noticed.”  But, she realized, she made a difference.  She concluded: “mission accomplished.”

And — like 300 of her classmates — she can say proudly say, thanks to their internships, “mission accomplished” for their high school careers.

Rich Rollins

They remembered the middle school teacher-coach’s passion, warmth, humor, sensitivity, care, concern — and ability to make both math and swim practice fun.

There was only one problem:  Rich wasn’t around to read the praise.

But plenty of teachers — active and retired — are still alive.  So, as the end of the school year nears — remembering Rich Rollins, and many other educators who are gone — “06880″ has an idea:

Say nice things about favorite teachers before they’re dead.

Click the “comments” link.  Share a memory of an educator who made an impact on your life.  Thank him or her.

Think of all the times you’ve remembered Mr. X, or told stories about the unforgettable Ms. Y.

Now’s the time to let them — and the world — know how you feel.

This is one time “telling tales out of school” is the right thing to do.

You can be president of a country.  You can donate a building.

Or you can be a graduate of the school who spent a harrowing week being captured and nearly killed in a far-off, war-torn land.

Tyler Hicks arrived at Boston University’s College of Communication convocation via that last route.

The Staples High School graduate and Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times photographer paused recently from his hectic life.  He donned academic robes and delivered a powerful address, advising 511 newly minted communications grads to head into a dangerous world, and try to make a difference.

Like most good commencement speakers, Tyler has already done just that.

“I doubt I’m the first person to ask you why you studied communications,” the 41-year-old veteran of Kosovo, Congo, Sudan, Afghanistan and Iraq began.

He noted that newspapers are shutting down, and the number of foreign correspondents is 3/4 less than a decade ago.

At the same time, he said, the young graduates have grown up “with more war than at any time in American history.”  Most are untouched by it — without a draft, our wars are fought by other people — but the need to “witness and communicate” what’s going on overseas has never been greater.

Today, Tyler said, “a new world is being born, politically and technologically.  This is your time to embrace it.”

Tyler described his own career path:  working at a small Midwestern paper; quitting a contract job with the Times to pay his own way to Afghanistan; carving his own way of communicating through photographs.

He told the graduates to “find a place where something is going on, and move there.”  They’ll be hungry and lonely, he noted — but the rewards of persistence, and belief in themselves, will be worth it.

His family and friends don’t always understand the risks he’s taking, Tyler said.  In fact, he’s questioned his own choices.

The risks became clear as he described his recent captivity and near-death in Libya — in his words, “a week-long road trip of violence and intimidation.”

So why continue to do it?  Why “do anything counter to what we’re expected to do?”

He does it because he wants readers to react to his photos, then form their own opinions of the world.  He feels, Tyler said, “a duty to share.”

And now — after understanding in Libya how quickly life can end — he appreciates it in a way he did not before.

Tyler Hicks (Photo/Winslow Martin)

“Your lives will change soon,” Tyler told the BU graduates, who majored in film and television, journalism and mass communications.  Each will have thousands of different, unique experiences.

He urged them to put aside their apprehensions about money or security.  The key to a successful life, he said, is to be so passionate about something that they accept risks as a by-product of what they do.

The tools the graduates use in this new world are up to them, Tyler concluded.  But all of them should “be brave.  And take chances.”

Tyler Hicks certainly has taken chances.  The result is a successful, challenging, productive life.

And countless images that challenge us, make us think, and help change the world.

(For Boston University’s coverage of the event — and a slideshow of Tyler Hicks’ photos — click here.)

But for its 1st 2 years, the townwide environmental exhibition/music festival produced by Staples’ Club Green could not sustain itself.

This year’s free event — set for tomorrow (Saturday, June 11, 12-5:30 p.m.) at the Levitt Pavilion — is as sustainable as its message.

After 2 years of help from Green Village Initiative and CL&P, this year the student organizers looked for business sponsors.  Included are New England Smart Energy, Terex, Chevy Volt, Tauck-Romano, and GVI.

“We wanted to show the public who really cares about the environment,” says spokesman Ben Meyers.  “To wash your car, go to Westport Wash & Wax — they’ve got solar panels.”  Car wash credits are one of EcoFest’s raffle prizes.

“The music and green message has always been there,” Ben notes.  “But this year the club really wanted to make sure to hit the ‘eco’ part.  It’s all about getting more products and things that people can use.”

Over 30 vendors will sell sustainable products, offer options like solar and wind energy, and provide low-key educational activities.

Plus:  face painting, recycling racing, create-your-own-green cleaning products, raffles of cool environmental movies, and more.

Also on tap:  food and drinks from the likes of Skinny Pines organic pizza, Planet Fuel organic juice drinks, and Steaz teas.

The Staples cheerleaders support EcoFestClub Green will sell its own organic t-shirts, and BPA-free water bottles. Two electric cars -- a Tesla and Chevy Volt -- will be displayed.

Meyers says that Fairfield County is “one of the worst CO2-emitting areas in the world.”  The average local resident uses twice the amount as the average American — and 9 times more than the average Chinese (52 tons per year, versus 6 in China).

“One reason is our big houses, and how we insulate, heat and light them,” Meyers says.

Tomorrow, turn off your lights.  Shut the a/c.  Head to the Levitt, for the 3rd annual EcoFest.

Hopefully, you’ll get there by hybrid or electric vehicle.

Or on bike.  Or foot.

Someone painted a mural of them, on the wall outside the gym.

Thirteen years later, those boys and girls are much bigger.  Most of them probably tower over Mrs. Wahnquist.

They’ve traveled from elementary school into middle school, then all the way through high school.

Many of those former kindergarteners are still in town.

In less than 2 weeks they graduate from Staples.  Then off they go, into the wide world beyond Westport.

Next fall — right on schedule — a new crop of 5-year-olds will enter Long Lots.

They’ll begin their long, exciting, wondrous journey to the Class of 2025.

And every day they’ll pass the mural of Mrs. Wahnquist’s kindergarten class of 1999 — folks so old they were born when Bill Clinton was president.

You know — way back in the last century.

But few broadcasts compare to yesterday’s.

Every year the show pays tribute to Memorial Day.  This time it focused on PFC Nick Madaras.  A former Wilton High School soccer player, he was killed in Iraq.  To honor his memory — and complete a project he’d begun — his parents, friends and total strangers collect soccer balls for shipment to Iraq and Afghanistan.  American service members then give them to grateful children.

So far, over 30,000 “Kick For Nick” soccer balls have been distributed.

Nick’s parents were interviewed in the Staples Media Lab.  They were joined by vice principal Richard Franzis — an Iraq veteran — and English teacher/former US Army Ranger Dan Geraghty, plus Staples soccer captain Sean Gallagher (who heads next month to the US Naval Academy).

The result was sobering, eye-opening — even awe-inspiring.

It’s often said that Westport youngsters live in a bubble; the real world never intrudes.  It’s also said that the best education sometimes occurs outside the classroom.

Yesterday, Staples students got the best possible education — about real life, in the real world.

To view the “Good Morning Staples” show, click below.

That’s still true 5 and 6 decades later, for the Class of ’11.

Fortunately — then and now — Staples Tuition Grants rode to the rescue.

Last night, STG gave out $300,000 in scholarships, to 108 current and past graduates.  It was a moving, inspiring ceremony — one of the best events of this graduation season, in fact.

Many awards are named for Staples grads who died.  Some are given by organizations like PTAs, Rotary Clubs and Sportsmen of Westport.  Each year, they help another group of grads.

Two new awards were presented yesterday.  One came from the Staples Class of 1960, which raised several thousand dollars during last summer’s 50th reunion.  Part of the funds came from careful budgeting ahead of time; part from the great feelings the alums had after their joyful weekend.  (It included a tour of the “new” school — remarkable to them, as they’d been part of the 1st students at their own “new” campus when Staples moved from Riverside Avenue in 1958.)

The Class of '60 reunion committee (from left): Barbara Picarello Wanamaker, Lynda Frazer, Linda Gramatky Smith, Geri D'Amico Strauss, Lesley Hodgkinson Anderson, Cathy Nazzaro Romano. Missing: Pat Hogenauer Harris. (Photo/John VIdeler)

The 200 or so grads who attended — and many others who did not make it back — loved the idea of giving something back to Staples, long after they left.

The Class of ’50, meanwhile — 10 years older, much smaller, but just as wise — donated to STG, in honor of 3 former teachers.

Both classes have the right idea.  So right,  in fact, that all reunion classes — this summer, and for years to come — should do the same thing.  Why not build an extra $10 or $15 into the reunion price, to go to Staples Tuition Grants?  Or solicit funds separately, at one of the weekend events?

Many grads, in each class, benefited from Staples Tuition Grants.  If we didn’t, our friends did.

Staples gave all of us an opportunity to learn, grow, express ourselves, and head confidently into the world.  Now let’s pay Staples back — by paying it forward.

Let’s begin a tradition that today’s graduates can embrace when they themselves become Wrecker reunion-goers, every 5 or 10 years from now.

(For more information on Staples Tuition Grants, click here.  The address is PO Box 5159, Westport, CT 06881; the email is giving@staplestuitiongrants.org)

Malia Wong

Davidson College graduate Malia Wong — a Staples Class of 2007 alum — has earned a Fulbright grant.  She heads to Sir Lanka soon, as an English teaching assistant.

She’s following up on a junior semester in  India, during which she taught English to her host sisters.  A psychology major and economics minor, Malia lived in southernmost Tamil Nadu, where virtually no one spoke English.

That experience inspired her to apply for a Fulbright — and her familiarity with the Tamil language gave her an edge. 

In Sri Lanka Malia will gain valuable global experience, before beginning her professional life.  She hopes for a career in international marketing.

Next month — 4 years after Malia graduated from Staples — another class  gathers in the fieldhouse.  They’ll receive high school diplomas, hear platitudes about heading into the “real world,” then march off to college, work or the military — having no clue what lies ahead.

Four years from now, they may be closer to figuring out their lives.  Malia sure seems to.

So “06880″ wonders:  What’s happened to the Staples Class of 2007?  As many graduate from college, what are their plans?  Did high school help prepare them for the next step?  Did they reach their goals, or meet their expectations?  What challenges did they face?

And — the $64,000 (okay, $200,000) question:  What’s next?

If you’re a member of the Staples Class of ’07, click “Comments” to tell us where you go from here.  And how, and why.

Your hometown wants to know.  We care!

Sam, meanwhile, met with painters, plumbers, electricians and delivery people.

That’s what you do when you’re a noted interior designer.  You’re always on call, always dealing with details and emergencies.

“It was hard,” Sam — who graduated last year from Weston — says.  “I’d be sitting in math class, getting emails and texts from clients and vendors.”

Sam Allen

Sam always loved furnishings and decor.  His mother — Leslie — is an interior designer, so he grew up around photo shoots.  On play dates, he “redecorated” rooms.

When Sam walked into Martha Stewart’s TV studio in Norwalk — Leslie and Martha are friends — he remembers being “mesmerized.”

At the ripe age of 12, Sam asked Dovecote owner Sarah Kaplan for a job.  Impressed, she hired him to work in the Westport store.

Eventually, Sarah took Sam on buying trips to France.  “It was hard work,” he says.  “We were out in the cold at the flea markets at 7:30, waiting for them to open.  There was a lot of photography, crating — it was tough.”

Sam took the minimum number of courses possible at Weston.  He much preferred working — and learning — at Dovecote.

In 2009, a customer at his father’s LL Farm Stand said she was stressed about redoing rooms above her garage.  Lloyd Allen replied, “My son does interior design.”

Sam looked at her space, described his vision — and was hired on the spot.

“I got a taste of the real design world,” he says.  “I learned how to really deal with clients, painters and electricians.”

The project was a great success.  He pitched photos to Connecticut Cottages & Gardens.  The editor was skeptical — she gets plenty of requests — but she loved what she saw.  The spread was published last April.

Through that — and project photos on Facebook, and word of mouth — Sam got more work.

At one home, Sam expected to decorate a room.  Instead, the owner asked him to handle most of her enormous home.

“That one, I was nervous,” Sam admits.  “The magnitude was huge.”

Why did all these women trust a high school senior?

One of Sam's projects...

“I’m less expensive than other local designers,” he says.

“But I have access to vendors, resources, fabric houses and stores.

“Plus, I’ve been trained by Dovecote and my mother.  And I have a good reputation.”

Working 2 summers ago at Martha Stewart Living in New York didn’t hurt.  He was their only non-college intern.  He learned about paint boards, cabinet lines, crafts, media production and more.

Last fall, Sam started classes at New York’s Fashion Institute of Technology.  Classes ran from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m.  On the 1st day, an instructor warned students they’d give up most of their lives for the next 4 years.

This winter, Sam decided to take time off.  “I know education is important,” he says.  “I’ll go back.  But right now, I want to concentrate on my clients.”

These days he’s working with women in Westport, Weston, Chelsea and the Upper East Side.  He’s also about to sign a deal with what he calls “a very exciting media-related project.”

...and another.

That’s a lot on one young man’s plate — no matter how decorative it is.  But interior design is Sam passion, and he’s pursuing it with gusto.

“I love accumulating different pieces, seeing a room come together,” he says.

“I see a fabric I fall in love with, and the rest follows.  I love the relationships I form with my clients — these housewives.  And watching construction progress is a great rush.”

It’s a rush Sam Allen relishes.  He’s come a long way from the days — a year ago — of sitting in math class, worrying about the real responsibilities of a real interior designer, being paid real money by real clients.

(To contact Sam, call 203-984-5590 or email sam@samalleninteriors.com)

She never said anything.  Subconsciously, she denied her heritage.  She realizes now she was trying to “pass” as white.

Though Asians and Asian-Americans are the 2nd largest minority in Westport, they make up just 3.43% of our population.  (Hispanics account for 4.02%.)

There were not a lot of ways to acknowledge her identity, says Constance, whose parents were born in China.

Constance Chien

“People assume a lot of things about Asians,” she says.  “We’re perceived as uninteresting, and we all get good grades.  It’s very limiting to be boxed into that set of traits.”

In middle school, a teacher heard she got straight A’s.  “I’m not surprised,” he said — implying all Asians are naturally smart.

“That offended me,” Constance says.  “I worked really hard for those grades.  It was like he was discounting my accomplishments because I’m Asian.”

At Staples — where she graduated last spring — Constance “tried maybe too hard to break that mold.”  She wrote “weird, alternative” opinion pieces for the school paper, Inklings.  She founded the Philosophy Club.

She did not embrace her heritage — and she did not feel anyone else did either.

Constance Chien at her 2010 Staples graduation.

The US Honors course “is supposed to discuss minorities, and oppressed groups,” she says.  “We never talked about Asians, and what they went through.”

At the time, she says, she did not notice the omission.  Looking back, she says, “If we’d discussed that in class, people might have understood me more.”

Constance did not seek out a college with a high number of Asians, but she found it.  Wellesley’s Asian population is 30%, Constance says.

Being surrounded by so many similar faces caused her to think more about “my identity, and what it means to be me.”  She helped set up Asian film festivals and speaker panels, and is considering majoring or minoring in Asian studies.

Asian-American culture has been in the news lately.  A New York Magazine about 20something Asians — titled “Paper Tigers” — has caused a stir on college campuses, while Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother unloosed a heated parenting-and-stereotype controversy.

“It perpetuates stereotypes,” Constance says of Tiger Mother.

“But I’m glad she wrote it.  There’s a dialogue now.”

Constance’s own parents “are pretty strict,” she says.

Yet, she quickly adds, “a lot of Westport parents are.  They wanted me to go to a good college, and I am.

“But I’m not a math and science person.  I like philosophy and English, and they’re okay with that.”

Does Constance have a message for current Westport students — Asian and all others?

“Be proud of your heritage,” she says.  “Don’t try to hide it.  Being ashamed of it won’t advance your issues.  Acknowledge whoever you are, and embrace it.”

The Saugatuck Congregational Church Youth Group.

They spent 2 nights at the Heifer International Learning Center  in Rutland, Massachusetts.  That’s a fancy name for a farm.

The kids held and bottle fed many baby lambs and, um, kids.  Like most Fairfield County youngsters, they learned a lot about other farm animals.

But his was no pet-the-animals, feel-good-about-nature weekend.

Heifer offers sustainable solutions to issues of hunger and poverty. Yet solutions are meaningless without a visceral understanding of problems.  So the youngsters were divided into 2 groups, and spent their time living as citizens of 2 “global villages.”

One was called “Kenya.”  The other was “Guatemala.”

In the simulated villages, the youths experienced the struggles faced by billions every day.  The Westporters had to barter for what little they could afford, with the money they were given.

Before they could eat their rice, vegetable and beans, they had to somehow build a fire to cook their meal.

They slept on concrete floors and wooden slats.

CJ Stephan cradles a sheep.

CJ Stephan expected “a farm type of place — living and working and ding routine farm chores.”  He was surprised at the poverty — and the fact that roosters really do get up early.

Hannah Rose was in the Kenya house, which lacked heat and electricity.  She was surprised to learn that it gets cold  at night in Africa.

She was surprised too at “how long it took to cook the food” — at least an hour for each meal.

“We had to start our own fires before we could cook,” she says.  “Before that we had to go to the ‘market’ with some ‘money.’  But we didn’t have enough, so we had to learn to barter and trade with other villages to get the supplies we needed.”

This was Kate Koster’s 2nd trip to Heifer.  Last year, she expected the houses would only “represent” what poverty could be like.  The reality was much starker.

“About 90% of the houses don’t have an obvious bed,” she reports.  “In many, you had to sleep on the floor.   There is no heat, and some are only tiny with 1 room.”

She admits, “We didn’t have to endure living in it like real people in those countries would have to.”

Kate learned that “we do not need everything we have.”  She has a better sense of poverty — and realizes it exists in places she did not think of, like “Kentucky, Poland and Peru.”  Now, she has “a different view on the world” — and how she can help.

CJ realizes that there is plenty of need around the globe — not just in the aftermath of natural disasters.

“There are many ways to help them too,” he says.  “It may seem weird to donate an animal to help a village, but it really provides a lot of things that are useful to keep them going.”