Contribution of Coeducation

Imagining being asked to spend twelve or so years of your life in a society which consisted only of members of own sex. How would you react? Unless there was something definitely wrong with you, you wouldn’t be too happy about it, to say the least. It is all the more surprising therefore that so many parents in the world choose to impose such abnormal conditions on their children – conditions which they themselves wouldn’t put up with for one minute!

Any discussion of this topic is bound to question the aims of education. Stuffing children’s heads full of knowledge is far from being foremost among them. One of the chief aims of educations is to equip future citizens with all they require to take their place in adult society. Now adult society is made up of men and women, so how can a segregated school possibly offer the right sort of preparation for it? Anyone entering adult society after years of segregation can only be in for a shock.

A co-educational school offers children nothing less than a true version of society in miniature. Boys and girls are given the opportunity to get to know each other, to learn to live together from their earliest years. They are put in a position where they can compare themselves with each other in terms of academic ability, athletic achievement and many of the extra-curricular activities which are part of school life. What a practical advantage it is ( to give just a small example ) to be able to put on a school play in which the male parts will be taken by boys and the female parts by girls! What nonsense co-education makes of the argument that boys are cleverer than girl or vice-versa. When segregated, boys and girls are made to feel that they are a race apart. Rivalry between the sexes is fostered. In a coeducational school, everything falls into its proper place.

But perhaps the greatest contribution of co-education is the healthy attitude to life it encourages. Boys don’t grow up believing that women are mysterious creatures – airy goddesses, more like book-illustrations to a fairy-tale, than human beings. Girls don’t grow up imagining that men are romantic heroes. Years of living together at school dispel illusions of this kind. There are no goddesses with freckles, pigtails, piercing voices and inky fingers. There are no romantic heroes with knobbly knees, dirty fingernails and unkempt hair. The awkward stage of adolescence brings into sharp focus some of the physical and emotional problems involved in growing up. These can better be overcome in a co-educational environment. Segregated schools sometimes provide the right conditions for sexual deviation. This is hardly possible under a co-educational system. When the time comes for the pupils to leave school, they are fully prepared to enter society as well-adjusted adults. They have already had years of experience in coping with many of the problems that face men and women.

Living life over

If I had my life to live over...I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was strained and the sofa faded.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding patter if I were not there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, would not show soil or was guaranteed to last a life time.

There would have been more "I love yous" ... more "I'm sorrys"... but mostly, given another shots at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back.

It Is Written

It is written seek - and you shall find
knock, and door shall be opened to you.
Words of divine authored power!
Yet nowhere is it written these things.
Be yours at slightest fickle request.
That seeker shall receive them immediately.

Though given in love still true merit
must be earned to be fully known.
Desire to know is program bred within.
Sought as creation birthright
without conscious perception.
Envisioned fragile quest embryo, carried
prudently, in formula formative childhood.
Tempered if it is to be flame kindled
through, smelting adulthood’s catalytic stages.


Various potential doorways
are found in many hallowed hallways.
Knocked upon as we gain thresholds.
So slowly, developmental understanding
is distilled, until purpose is born.
Fog and mist which hid high peaks
is blown away, before
warm breaths of illumination.
Summit must stand supreme above all.

Many paths appear
possible through lowland bog.
Though each step is committed
with steady measured consideration,
least stumbling step fatally breach
hungry waiting mire.


Caution demands
a sure foot at cost of time
safe foothold
is forsaken at intruder’s peril.
Selected careful handhold
must be preserved
to prevent
pain of sudden fall.
As weary tread firmly
carries us above outdistanced plains.

A determined effort
superlatively endures to enigmatic end.
Never tarries
on precarious precipitate.
Nor lingers idly
when night or storm encroach.
Only after a long well planned journey
can climber attain to supreme apex.
A fine wine savoured as rich reward.
Exalted and drunk with the fullness of time.

Thy feeling.

Thus this outrageous feeling,
no other could ever beat.
Thy addiction thy sweet love,
makes thou heart skip a beat.

So rebelious so fatal,
thy could never spare.
To precious to rare,
thy could only fear.

Magic hearts magic minds,
never perceived.
One of a kind,
might even cause greive.

Such an ache,
need to take.
Just a little bit more,
feels better each time,
more than before.

Heavy thoughts never felt,
the rocks had never been so shiny.
Feeling stressed going down,
big rocks small rocks tiny.

Thy have gone with in beyond,
never thy shall return.
Whats have done will stay done,
Thou shall thus shall ohnly burn.

If the Dream is Big Enough

If the Dream is Big EnoughI used to watch her from mykitchenwindow, she seemed so small as she 1)muscled her way throughthecrowd of boys on the playground. The school was across thestreetfrom our home and I would often watch the kids as theyplayedduring recess. A sea of children, and yet to me, she stoodout fromthem all.I remr the first day I saw her playing basketball.Iwatched in wonder as she ran circles around the other kids.Shemanaged to shoot jump shots just over their heads and into thenet.The boys always tried to stop her but no one could.I begantonotice her at other times, basketball in hand, playing alone.Shewould practice 2)dribbling and shooting over and overagain,sometimes until dark. One day I asked her why she practicedsomuch. She looked directly in my eyes and without a momentofhesitation she said, “I want to go to college. The only way Icango is if I get a scholarship. I like basketball. I decided thatifI were good enough, I would get a scholarship. I am going toplaycollege basketball. I want to be the best. My Daddy told me ifthedream is big enough, the facts don’t count.” Then she smiledandran towards the court to 3)recap the routine I had seen overandover again.Well, I had to give it to her—she was determined.Iwatched her through those junior high years and into highschool.Every week, she led her 4)varsity team to victory.One day inhersenior year, I saw her sitting in the grass, head cradled inherarms. I walked across the street and sat down in the coolgrassbeside her. Quietly I asked what was wrong. “Oh, nothing,”came asoft reply. “I am just too short.” The coach told her that at5’5”she would probably never get to play for a top ranked team—muchless offered a scholarship—so she should stop dreamingaboutcollege.She was heartbroken and I felt my own throat tightenas Isensed her disappointment. I asked her if she had talked to herdadabout it yet.She lifted her head from her hands and told methather father said those coaches were wrong. They just didnotunderstand the power of a dream. He told her that if shereallywanted to play for a good college, if she truly wantedascholarship, that nothing could stop her except one thing — herownattitude. He told her again, “If the dream is big enough, thefactsdon’t count.”The next year, as she and her team went totheNorthern California Championship game, she was seen by acollege5)recruiter. She was indeed offered a scholarship, a fullride, toa Division I, 6)NCAA women’s basketball team. She was goingto getthe college education that she had dreamed of and workedtoward forall those years.It’s true: If the dream is big enough,the factsdon’t count.

Waiting

Waiting is a word
Waiting is a feeling
Waiting is friendship
A floating ship
in the vast sea of life.

Waiting for somebody
Who may write a letter
Who may send a picture
Who may wish me on my
Birthday
Who may say a helo
after a long span of time...
Waiting is waiting after all
for one whom you like to meet
for one whom you like to talk with
for one whom you send a bouquet of
red red rose...

And
One who does not wait for you at all.....