THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, August 30, 1995 TAG: 9508290150
SECTION: ISLE OF WIGHT CITIZEN PAGE: 12 EDITION: FINAL
SERIES: BACK TO SCHOOL
LENGTH: Long : 104 lines
Address to teachers by School Board Chairman Richard L. Peerey on Aug. 21, 1995:
On behalf of the Isle of Wight County School Board, it is my pleasure and honor to welcome you to the beginning of the 1995-96 school year.
While at one of my favorite vacation places on the Atlantic, I witnessed the following:
I was standing near the marina on the inlet side of Topsail Beach, N.C., when an older man in bibbed overalls and straw hat drove a small boat up to a pier after a day's fishing. His not-so-small wife, in a dress with a large hat, was in the front of the boat.
As they neared the pier, I heard him say in a very Southern, drawling, dragging way, ``Reach out there and grab that pier, Margaret.''
As the woman tried to reach the pier, she leaned a little too far from the boat, and yes, she fell in with a mighty splash. As the lady, dress and hat came to the surface and the commotion calmed, the man said as seriously, and as drawling as possible, ``Margaret, why did you go and do a thing like that for?''
Margaret said nothing, only took hold of the boat as he literally tugged her ashore.
Seeing that she was all right, I could enjoy laughing about what was an unfortunate, but humorous, display of Southern interaction. However, the story didn't end there.
Reaching the shore, Margaret made her way out on the bank without a word, without a grumble, but with a few grunts and moans. As she stood, correcting what she could of her clothing and dignity, she made her way to the pier where her husband was docking the boat.
After securing the boat, the man got his truck and trailer and backed down the ramp as Margaret looked on. As he was walking around the trailer - which was on the ramp and in the water - to align the boat, Margaret said, in as twangy Southernese as possible, ``That concreek is a-slick, Ed.''
To which Ed said, ``I guess I can manager this. I ain't been a-swimming.''
``I'm a-telling you, it's a-slicky, Ed,'' Margaret emphasized.
At which moment, Ed's feet simultaneously went out from under him. Ed, his overalls and hat went down the algae-covered ramp, and everything but the hat went below the surface of the water.
After Ed's slick, quick baptizing, he swam over to the pier - not being able to get up the ramp - and climbed out.
As he walked past Margaret, she said, with elevated volume and as cynical as a Southern, country lady can say, ``Ed, why did you go and do a thing like that for?''
Ed just looked at her with one of ``those'' looks. She added, ``I told you it was slicky.''
At this point, without raising his voice and without any verbal hostility, Ed replied: ``Let's get this boat loaded. We need to go home.''
She helped. And without further ado, they left.
As I reflected, after laughing at what I had seen, several things occurred to me.
We've all been there, coming in, so to speak, from fishing - whether it be our jobs, rearing our children, teaching, etc. We've reached for the dock, leaned too far and have fallen in.
Through no fault of our own, except to be helpful and to assist, we have ended up all wet, confused and disoriented - coming up, reaching for something secure only to be asked in one form or another, ``Why did you go and do a thing like that?''
The reason to us was obvious. We wanted to help and ended up all wet. We all have been in Ed's initial position as well - dry, safe and arrogant to a fault, as a dripping-wet Margaret warns us that the ramp is ``a-slicky.''
And yes, we have also been Ed and found ourselves unexpectedly sliding into the creek, floundering to get out alive, albeit all wet, and more than slightly embarrassed. Most of us have been both Ed and Margaret in one form or another.
Both Ed and Margaret made mistakes for different reasons. But the boat had to be loaded and to home they must go. Without further ado, Ed and Margaret loaded their boat and went about their business.
There are always those people out there ready to remind us of our mistakes. But if one is going to fish in life, be in and around boats, one will - sooner or later - get wet.
However, in spite of the mistakes we have made, for whatever reasons, we must see the necessity of loading the boat, of straightening overalls, fetching our hats, correcting our clothing, and being about our business.
Our business is education. It's teaching. It's children. It's what we are about. It is part of who we are.
However, if we are courageous enough to venture forth fishing in this profession, with all the critics standing safely on the marina watching us, we must also be bold enough to risk falling in, getting wet, missing the boat and pier - at times - but recovering without harm to one another and continuing on with our business.
We must be about the business of safety for you - our teachers - and our children. We must be about the business of our chosen profession. We must be about the business of loading the boat together and making our way toward home.
We must do this regardless of the mistakes we've made or how wet we may be at times.
Let's load the boat and be about our business together.
Thank you. ILLUSTRATION: School Board Chairman Richard L. Peerey addressed teachers at
the beginning of this school year about the risks and rewards of
education.
by CNB