Teaching Character in Schools

It is time to begin putting thoughts to paper and slides into computer as I contemplate an upcoming meeting with the faculty of a local private school who distinguish themselves (in my mind) by their desire to find a way to impart character to their students. So often comes to mind the ancient wisdom that a long journey begins with the first step, and too often that first step is lost in a wave of hopelessness over the totality of the undertaking.
How can one dedicated faculty fight the tide of a multitude of contrary influences? How can one person change the world?
That journey parallels the growth of the human brain, about which I intend to speak, and a single neuron which after migrating to a part of the unformed fetus of the yet-to-be-born child adapts itself and becomes a particular part of a much more complex organ, a lonely pioneer which when joined by many, many more of its kind will form a brain, a brain that when developed and joined one day by many other brains, can, in fact, change the world.
But our tiny neuron must take that first step, or none of this will happen.
In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions, wherein a small change occurring at one place in a nonlinear system results in a large difference in a later state.
In terms of character, the group of neurons forming the brain will develop and grow and that brain will mold itself through the influences of genetics and environment to direct its host organism in its attitudes, its perceptions, its beliefs. A character will develop, with or without the additional input of the educator, for good or for ill. But the trajectory of that nonlinear system can be effected, even if the attempt at that one time and place along the continuum seems as minimal as the flapping of butterfly wings. If we believe this can happen, we will take that first step, and educate for character.
In our clear and present world, our true investment isn't in stocks and bonds, it is in the currency of character. Everything else changes over time.
But in the same sense that you would not expect a driver from another state to learn the speed limit of your freeway by observing the speed of drivers around her, so we should not expect children to develop a beneficial set of personal standards and values by observing those around them, without specific directions.
And so we must teach them. But how? Where do we begin?
By the time the educator meets the child, character development has already begun. Our job, then, is to guide its growth.
Character germinates within a warm, nurturing environment, regardless of its aspect, as a beautiful flower may emerge from a pile of warm, nutrient rich dung. A loving, supportive surrounding is the construct for a platform of self-esteem out of which can grow courage, and trust, and respect.
Not all children have such an advantage. But the brain is malleable, it is never too late. The school can provide such an environment, in each classroom, in every meeting, in all of its corridors. And provide guidance toward those traits that lead to good character.
But whose definition of good character traits do we teach? The world is filled with all kinds of minds, and beliefs. The dispute over whose values to impart can be a distraction which can go on forever.
But look closely. There are values common to all societies around the world. They are these: industry, fairness, respect, and truth. Most world communities would not dispute the addition of responsibility, compassion and courage.
That's a pretty good set of tools.

Odds or Angels?

The stretch of El Camino Real that runs the twenty miles from Gaviota Pass to my humble abode in Los Alamos has lately seemed more like the Kyber Pass in terms of volatility. Since I moved here almost three years ago, a burned body was found along that stretch and there have been two fatal accidents, most recently a tanker truck which overturned and burned two days ago closing the northbound lane for almost twelve hours. The story of the other fatal accident that I shall relate here got a lot of press, including national attention by TV's big three. But to my mind it bears telling again, not only because it is an incredible story, but because it brings us face to face with some fundamental questions.
It's the story of an automobile accident near Buellton, just fourteen miles from Los Alamos. The 101 winds through the narrow Gaviota gorge and tunnel when driving north from Goleta and Santa Barbara, then climbs up and over a mountain pass to drop down into the Santa Ynez River valley and the town of Buellton. On its way down this long, twisting hill it crosses a trestle-like bridge over Nojoqui Creek, some seventy feet below. The two lane highway crosses on two bridges here, one for northbound and one for southbound. The long grade down to this bridge requires attention from truckers. You'll sometimes see them pull over at the top of the grade to check equipment and cool their brakes. The Santa Barbara County Coroner's Office later found that the trucker who caused the accident was under the influence of drugs, both methamphetamines and amphetamines to a level "where you could be hallucinating or displaying aggressive behavior.” If this indeed was the man's condition he paid dearly for it. Officials say that his big-rig gravel truck came up behind a BMW sedan at the Nojoqui Creek bridge in the high speed lane driven by a woman transporting her two children, and struck the car from behind. At that speed the sedan was crushed sideways up and onto the left lane concrete bridge barrier. The truck went out of control and slammed through the concrete and crashed to the river bed below where it burst into flames. The truck driver did not survive.
The BMW was almost knifed in half on top of the barrier, one side crimped against the road side and the other crushed and hanging precariously above the gorge. Literally every part of the sedan was squashed flat except those areas of the passenger compartment containing the occupants. The vehicle was so mangled and crunched beyond recognition that the firemen could not tell where to make their cuts into the metal to free the victims without endangering them. The woman and her ten month old baby girl were still alive and visible, trapped inside the tangle of metal which threatened momentarily to slip from the bridge and fall to the creek bed far below.
Amazingly, one of the vehicles immediately behind the accident  was a tow truck. Realizing that the crashed BMW was in jeopardy of falling off the bridge, the driver turned his truck and attached his cable to the wreckage to secure it as well as possible.
Firemen, rescue teams, helicopters, and rescue vehicles all swarmed to the scene, arriving in a very short time. But it was a case of 'all the kings horses and all the kings men…' because there was nothing that most of rescue workers could do beyond trying to stabilize the car better with additional ropes. And those few who could help were unsure how to proceed, how and where to cut into the wreckage so not to destabilize the vehicle on its precarious perch, how to extricate the injured adult and two children from wreckage that threatened at any time to plummet off the bridge.
The first responders had arrived and assessed the situation and called for a large crane but it was far away and making slow progress. Without it, the wrecked vehicle could never be entirely secure. But time for the injured victims was running out. The rescue workers could not wait and began their work. A fireman harnessed up and climbed down the outside of the bridge barrier where the woman was most accessible, conscious and able to communicate but trapped there with a window view of the horror she faced. He tried to encourage her and assess her condition. She was injured but stable. Her ten year old daughter was somewhere in the wreckage, she believed the girl had died. The infant was alive. Guided by the suspended fireman a rescue worker up on the road surface began to make cuts into the wreckage attempting to remove enough metal to release the trapped passengers. But with each cut, the car grew less stable, creaking and squealing incrementally toward the chasm. It seemed an impossible situation.
To this point in my narrative, you may already have been counting miracles. That the BMW had not followed the truck into the gorge was certainly one. That a tow truck was right behind the accident was another. That in smashing down upon the barrier the mother and infant had not been instantly crushed to death was certainly another. That the rescue workers responded so quickly, that the delicately balanced wreckage remained on the barrier as long as it had, that the truck fire beneath could be extinguished quickly enough not to threaten the trapped passengers or keep the rescuers from their work must all be added to the list.
But another miracle was needed. If more cuts were made into the wreckage it must certainly pull away from the ropes and cable and fall. But the trapped family could not be extricated without making the cuts. It was a stalemate. The missing crane was desperately needed or some heavy equipment that could lift the wreckage to a safer place or at least hold it securely while the needed cuts were made.
And then, the miracle.
Among the vehicles in the backed-up traffic were those of a group of Navy Seabees traveling from their home base in Port Hueneme. They walked up among the cars to see what was holding up the traffic. They quickly assessed the situation and spoke to the rescuers. On their transport, they said, they happened to have the ideal machine for their needs. They had a forklift - not just any forklift - but a forklift that could extend its forks out from the body of the tractor. They went back to their transport and drove the forklift up the southbound lane and onto the bridge. Turning it to face the crash site they extended the lift down and under the hanging wreckage and gently supported it from underneath. With it now secure, the remaining cuts were made and the family extricated.
Now consider - what are the odds that precisely the right machine for this particular rescue happened to be so close at just the right time?
But the miracles are not done.
The ten year old girl was found alive and rescued. In fact, she had not sustained major injuries. The infant was also free from serious injury. And the brave mother was helped from the wreckage by the harnessed rescuer standing on the miraculous forklift. She was lifted up to the safety of the roadway. Her injuries were not life threatening. The entire family was released from the hospital six days later.
So now I ask you: Odds, or angels? Did the dice roll out the perfect sequence of numbers again and again for this family, or was there some sort of divine intervention?
I leave that for you to decide.