'Educationists
MORE LETTERS
Destroy Parental Involvement/ Writer Claims
To the editor:
in a move educators perceive as a
diplomatic effort to increase parental
participation in public schooling,
parents must this week pick up their
children's report cards at South
Brunswick High Scnool wh?re they
are invited to visit with classroom
teachers.
Perception, unfortunately, is mis
leading. We won't get any news re
ports of how many "ungrateful" par
ents find report cards almost worth
less these days, nor will we hear
about what progress conferences
with teachers produces when parents
are ignorant of the curriculum.
The trouble is the educationists
themselves destroy parental involve
ment in the grade schools.
On the one hand educationists
have assumed parental duties with
out authorization, and on the other
hand changed context and methods
of teaching radically from times
past, thus forcing many parents to
seek relief through politics instead
of conference.
Some parents are all too willing
to let the educationists run the whole
show; others are frustrated.
The atmosphere of "come to us
and help us with your child's
achievement according to our pro
gram" is really an extension of edu
cationists viewing pupils as wards of
the state instead of the children of
txucsts who !h* Ifgal wards.
The next step, of course, is to
compel parental attendance or dic
tate what they are to do to assist in
the program they may not like.
And then other government agen
cies will also detail what parents are
supposed to do. Our educationists
doubtless have read the "liberal"
presses' notification that Commu
nism is dead!
There are some hopeful signs,
however. I discovered this week to
my great delight a restaurant in
western Carolina who fished the wa
ters of cultural sanity with his
McGuffey Readers, a six-page book
of "lessons" detailing menu selec
tions.
And the city of Hartford, Conn.,
contracted with private enterprises
to manage its public schools. And
parents can now for less than $100
buy the materials to teach their chil
Is There Life Past
The Checkout Lane?
I'm not sure what to think about the theory of reincarnation. But I tend
to become more of a believer each time I get into the check-out line at a su
permarket or department store.
Judging from my experiences in these commonplace situations, 1 get
the feeling I must have done some
thing truly horrendous to a cashier
during a past life. As a result, I am
forever being paid back for my indis
cretion.
I'm not a shopper by nature. I
don't like to "browse" or "window
shop" or join in any of those other
bargain-hunting rituals so dear to our
consumer society.
When I go into a store, I usually
know exactly what I want. So I walk
briskly straight to where those items are. I put them in my little buggy and
head for the door. Where the real fun begins.
Most big supermarkets and department stores these days have giant
check-out areas that look like a cattle stockyard. These are equipped with
20 or more of the latest high-tech laser activated universal -pnce-code read
ing belt-driven counter/register modules complete with scales, credit-card
swipers and light-emitting-diode panels displaying the running total of each
customer's purchases. ' ^ <jv,y
The trouble is, there are usually no more than two or three actual hu
man employees around to run the dam things. And more often than not,
each of those is desperately looking around for an assistant manager to re
pair the latest break -down in the system.
Always ready for a challenge, 1 lend to approach the check-out area like
a running back looking for a slice of open field between opposing linemen.
But I rarely seem to find that promising sliver of daylight.
As I head for the end zone I survey the handy numbered lights that are
supposed to indicate which cash registers are operating. Unfortunately,
what these actually indicate is which numbered lights have new bulbs in
them and which ones are burnt out.
Next, I survey the lines in front of each cashier. This is not as simple as
it might seem, for all lines are not created equal. You must consider each
one in terms of its potential for delay. Think of them as time lines.
For example, four construction workers ? each holding a 12 -pack of
beer and a frozen pizza ? actually create a much shorter line than a single
housewife pushing a cart containing 87 cans of cat food.
Don't be fooled by the sign that says "Express Lane ? 10 Items or
Less." This is an invitation to disaster; a black hole that relentlessly attracts
people who cannot grasp the concept of simple addition.
Here you will Find shoppers who somehow believe that eight cans of
soup, plus Five bags of candy, plus six boxes of cereal, plus a half-gallon of
milk adds up to less than 10.
The so called "express lane" is also the traditional home of the dreaded
First-time cashier. You know, the clueless guy who stares blankly at the
head of fresh garlic in his hand before looking up to ask, "Uhhh...broc
coli?"
I would like to believe that store managers assign their beginning em
ployees to the express line so they can become accustomed to the job with
out having to immediately deal with an endless line of overflowing grocery
carts.
But what really happens is this: The store's most efficient customers ?
the ones who get in, get it and gci uui ? arc forced to deal with ih<- store's
least efficient staff members "Uhhh... cauliflower?"
Over the years, I've gotten pretty savvy to the more subtle aspects of
the cashier selection game. Like watching for customers holding check
books (add Five minutes) or food stamps (might go smoothly, might not) or
coupons (big trouble).
Then, just as I feel secure in having chosen the right lane. The Big Guy
plays one of his little tricks.
Like yesterday, for instance. I had scanned the rows carefully and made
my decision. It was one of the longer lines, but one I felt conFident would
move quickly: Lots of customers with small purchases. People in a hurry.
Folks with wallets and bills already in their hands.
Sure enough, 1 was just one shopper away from the door and smiling
triumphantly at all those chumps who chose the apparently shorter lines.
They were still waiting. Five customers deep. The smell of victory was in
the air.
Then it happened. The woman in front of me announced her intention
to pay for two 29-cent candles with a wadded-up, out-of-town paycheck,
made out to her husband for S389.47!
Needless to say, my swift exit turned into a 15-minute ordeal as layer
upon layer of management was summoned to look at the check, flip it over,
look at her driver's license, flip it over, look at her social security card, flip
it over, ask her a few questions and scratch their head before calling the
next manager.
Long before I got out of there, my competitors in the other aisles were
already home watching Princess Diana's latest escapades on "Hard Copy."
So here's another tip for smart shoppers: If you notice a check-out area
that seems surprisingly uncrowded, beware of any wild-eyed customers
staring skyward and mumbling, "What have I done to deserve this?"
That line ain't as short as it looks.
When you leave
the Brunswick shores/
ike the Beacon with you!
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dren language through phonics, the
proven method our public educators
have largely abandoned.
These few developments create
more optimism for the future than
reshuffling county school adminis
tration titles and offices.
Karl E. Biandt
Shallotte
Thanks For Keys
To the editor:
Last August I was in the ocean at
Sunset Beach and lost my keys in
the surf. The keys were of no impor
tance as they could be replaced. But
I had my father's Navy dog tag at
tached to the ring. I carried it as a
lucky piece, and as it dated back to
1911, there was sentimental value
important to me.
To the person or persons who
found the key ring and turned it into
the Sunset Beach Fishing Pier, 1 give
my heartfelt thanks.
Tom Maher
Sunset Beach
Purpose Not Lost
To the editor:
I would like to respond to the let
ter "Purpose Lost" by Teddi Neal
concerning the Brunswick Animal
League.
The purpose of the league is still
active. In fact it is the number-one
project. We started the spray and
neuter program in 1987. Since that
time, according to the records, we
have paid veterinarians $28,520.
More than 1,000 animals have been
spayed or neutered. Before she criti
cized she should have learr.cd what
she wrote about.
We have an IRS tax-exempt num
ber so people can donate and take it
off on their income tax. We get no
money from the county ? just dona
tions from friends, animal lovers and
hard work ? namely, fundraisers,
yard sales, cake sales, etc.
I feel Teddi Neal owes an apology
to the league and Jeanninc Friday.
al ? it _ i.? M..
vm, wen, MJiiittiiuwa a fvuvjviv van
be a boost.
Alma Tolson
Shallotte
EDITOR S NOTE: The writer is
president of the Brunswick Animal
League.
"The Unsinkable Boat '
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1 -800-545-2293
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A
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Nov. 8th
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BOARD OF EDUCATION
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