I put a hold on earlier plans for a retirement gathering, fearing that it might allow COVID-19 to spread. I wouldn’t want that to be the legacy I leave. Alternative plans were very nice and included a “trail” walk down one hallway with photos and writing from staff members at evenly spaced tables. Becca has worked in special education in Alma for eighteen years, and I’ve been principal at AIS for nineteen years.
Becca and I enjoyed reading through this path and collecting notes from staff for careful reading at home. Here are a couple of excerpts from the walk. The first references our grandson, Sam, and the second talks about our trail buddy, Hiker-dog.
We practiced social distancing as Mr. Woolly addressed the group and presented the traditional retirement clocks to Becca and me. The cake reflected the southwest region of our country where I love to backpack during the summer.
We’re thankful for everyone who is a part of our school community. The support of parents and enthusiasm of students has been a joy to witness. I’m thankful for our staff’s skills, talents, enthusiasm, and love for the students. It has been Becca’s and my greatest honor to serve as teacher and principal at AIS.
Shortly after our time of celebration, Ralynn Wilkinson, my assistant principal, was working alongside our new principal, Kim Loughridge and counselor, Kristen Wagner. They were working on student placement and planning for great learning next year!
Here’s a little list I typed on May 21st.
Below is a link to The Nat’ral Truth by Arch Warnock. We called him Grampie. My mother, Elsie, put it together with artwork by her brother, Reese. I remember watching some of the reel-to-reel recordings made in our living room on Calion Hwy. It took a little warming up from Mother to get Grampie to tell his stories. This little book has become a treasure for our family.
Beyond these tall tales that Grampie told, we collected family stories passed down over the years. Some are in writing, but many are passed along verbally. I would encourage families to tell stories of their childhood and what they remember about parents and grandparents. It’s comforting for children to know they’re part of a family’s story.
Click link to open the book: The Natural Truth by Arch Warnock Elsie Warnock Reese Kennedy 1970
Follow the link for the entire text: Cliches of Teaching Elsie Warnock 1978
Bill Craig, band director at Barton Junior High in El Dorado, stayed after school one day to give a snare drum lesson to a third-grader. The student was to play Little Drummer Boy in his church choir program. Though saxophone was Bill’s primary instrument, he easily gave fundamental instruction and encouragement to this beginner.
A few years later, Mr. Craig directed the district-wide beginner band, and that kid, now in 6th-grade, was in the back playing snare.
Around twenty-years later, that kid, now a music teacher, played drum set with Bill’s jazz band in El Dorado. A most memorable gig was playing drums at a birthday party Bill organized for his wife, Dorothy. Seeing Bill Craig’s commitment and love for his family was inspiring.
Over the years, Bill and I exchanged Christmas cards. We shared our books with each other, his (The Tall Pines of Union County) about significant people in Union County, and mine (Five Star Trails: The Ozarks) about hiking trails. On several occasions, I picked up classic jazz recordings from Bill, and on a couple of occasions, he sent me CDs of jazz he performed and recorded.
I’m thankful that Bill was willing to stay after school that afternoon. I doubt that either of us had an inkling of the friendship that would develop from that snare drum lesson. Through his example, Bill Craig taught the importance of building positive relationships with students. I’m thankful for his life and positive influence on our community and countless former students. ~ Jim Warnock
I’m thankful to have been raised by courageous parents. If Mother didn’t know how to do something, she’d read up and dive right in. She tried to do things right, but often said, “Some things are worth doing poorly.” She didn’t hold others to perfection, often saying, “When in doubt, take a step.” You might learn something new. She practiced this all of her life to the benefit of those around her, especially her children.
When Becca and I had our first daughter, Elsie gave us permission not to be perfect parents. She reminded me of the time she took me to the bank when I was 10 to deposit eight silver dollars my grandmother had given me over several years. The bank teller repeatedly asked if she was sure we wanted to do this. Mother later learned the silver dollars were worth much more than any interest from a savings account would bring.
Following our first daughter’s birth, Mother gave me a small framed set of eight silver dollars with a lettered message: “No one said parents are perfect.” No, perfection wasn’t required but viewed from a distance, my parents were pretty darn close.
My mother died on February 25. During the last few weeks, I visited my mother daily to assist with her evening meals. On one of these visits, I leaned over her bed and clearly said, “You were an amazing mother!” It felt awkward to say something so obvious. Her eyes filled with tears and she smiled. Over the weeks as she became less responsive, I read from a little book of memories she wrote in hopes that she would still hear me.
On February 24, I found some poems in the back of one of her books. I hadn’t seen them before and one caught my attention. It was the response to a writing assignment that she titled A Poem for Jimmy. She called my father Jimmy.
Mother would say it’s not great poetry. I would say it’s heartfelt and poetry at least worth reading. This was the last thing I read to Mother during our last visit.
A Poem for Jimmy
By Elsie Warnock
This is a poem for Jimmy
Who made my life begin.
Who has doubled life’s joys
And halved its sorrows.
We have worked together;
We have laughed together;
We have grieved together.
I will remember always
The marvelous quiet times of our lives.
This is a poem for you.
I wanted to share my retirement letter with students and parents, so it appears at the bottom of this post. I shared the following four points with our School Board on February 6.
I’ve spent 19 years as a part of the Alma School District and have the following observations: 1) Alma has shown an ever-increasing focus on student achievement over these years. 2) Alma has made huge leaps in providing relevant technology for students. 3) Alma has demonstrated a constant focus on hiring great people and then providing professional growth opportunities throughout their careers. 4) Alma is a “both/and” district that balances student achievement efforts with an emphasis on the arts. Alma is a place where students can add relevance and engagement to their education through music, dance, drama, and the visual arts.
I didn’t mention this, but it’s evident in so many ways that the Alma District and community are committed to student and staff safety. We have our own Alma Police Department SRO, secure facilities, and well-trained staff and students. This means so much to me as a parent and an educator.
I’m thankful for the way the Alma School District has impacted my family, and my many students and staff.
January 31, 2020
Mr. David Woolly and the Alma School Board
I will be resigning as principal at Alma Intermediate School on June 30, 2020. My goal has always been to conclude my career in education still excited about learning and working with students. Being part of the Alma School District made this goal easy to accomplish.
I delayed my original retirement date by one year so that we could work with staff to plan and implement our Alternative Learning Environment (ALE). Writing that plan last year and then watching the teacher in our new ALE this year meeting the needs of our most at-risk students has been a highlight of my career.
I’ve had the privilege of working with great superintendents, most notably, Bob Watson in El Dorado, and Charles B. Dyer and David Woolly in Alma. I have also enjoyed my association with school board members who volunteer to serve our schools in continuous improvement efforts. My assistant principals, Geneva Moss (El Dorado), Suzy Ferguson, and Ralynn Wilkinson, have influenced my professional growth and done many things to increase the success of schools I’ve served.
While teaching music and completing my master’s in counseling earlier in my career, I could never have imagined that my journey would lead to a great school like Alma Intermediate. Thank you for giving me this privilege.
It has been an honor to work with teachers and play a role in their professional and personal growth. Watching them has taught me much about teaching and learning and the significance of their service. I often brag that my best talent is recognizing talent and core values in hiring teachers. I will genuinely miss hiring and watching the development of teachers.
Completing Phase III of the Arkansas Leadership Academy Principals’ Institute, being designated Arkansas’ Principal of the Year, and serving as president of the Arkansas Association of Educational Administrators were opportunities to bring positive attention to Alma. Still, my highest personal honor has been to work with students and take actions to enhance their learning. Watching their growth and development is the greatest joy of my work in education. I hope to continue working with students in the future in some capacity, maybe an occasional bucket drum club, or sharing an outdoor adventure from time to time.
I have many interests to pursue. Between family, trails, photography, writing, and drumming, I fear not having enough time and health to get it all done! Thank you to the leaders of the Alma School District for being such a significant part of my career. Education has been a rewarding way to spend a large portion of my life, and I look forward to serving our community and schools as a volunteer in the future.
The following could be applied to many areas we sometimes call extracurricular. I consider these essential to students. Music was crucial to my experience in school. Music kept me engaged and taught many lessons I might have otherwise missed. Below is something I wrote twenty years ago for a Cooper’s Troopers Reunion Band. The thoughts still ring true for me today.
All I Ever Needed To Know, I Learned In the Band
- I learned the importance of persistence: Do we really have to play that spot again?
- I learned that self-esteem is developed by meeting challenges: Mr. Cooper really believes we can play this piece?
- I learned you can do almost anything you’re passionate about if you try long and hard enough. Yes, I just love practicing the 26 snare drum rudiments. Oh yes, scales are fun, too!
- I learned the importance of flexibility. You want us there at what time?
- I learned to suspend judgment: “You don’t know if you like this piece until you can play it!” – Mr. Cooper
- I learned the importance of showing up, no matter how you feel.
- I learned to be on time. There is nothing like the “Cooper stare” if you run into formation late.
- I learned organizational skills. What other class requires that a student show up on time with 27 separate uniform parts, music folder, clothespins, snacks, and at least two drum sticks (hopefully a matched pair).
- I learned to appreciate the great outdoors. I have fond memories of those early morning winter marches on the parking lot. I hear sound coming from my drum, but I can’t feel my hands.
- I learned that success depends on how you use your time. “The best bands are the bands that fix mistakes the quickest.” – Mr. Cooper
- I learned to keep going no matter what. I remember the roar of laughter in a Little Rock stadium after one file took a counter-march 20 yards early. We just kept going and regrouped at the majorette feature tune. “Take real big steps and well get this back together,” several unidentified seniors were heard to say.
- I learned that everybody’s part is important from the first trumpet solo down to the triangle part. “Get it covered!” – Hal Cooper
- I learned that there is more than one way to hit a drum. “Yes, I know those are marimba mallets and you’re playing timpani, but that’s the sound I want.” – Mr. Cooper
- I learned how to ad-lib. “Forget what is written, drummers. Just make it sound right.” – Hal Cooper
- I learned the importance of consistency. “You’re not getting better because you make new mistakes every day.” – Hal Cooper
- I learned the importance of a compliment, no matter how small. The tension and suspense after a halftime show lifted completely when Mr. Cooper turned and simply said, “Good job.”
- I learned to travel in varied accommodations. Experienced travelers by school bus will do fine in any third world country.
- I learned the importance of a group effort focused on a common goal. “Take aim and push your sound all the way to the press box.” – Hal Cooper
- I learned that it’s OK to be a little arrogant as long as you don’t take yourself too seriously. We really were pretty awesome!
- I learned the power of music. I’ll never forget the first time I heard the Symphonic Band open up on Eternal Father, Strong to Save, arranged by Claude T. Smith! Sounds can change even a drummer’s life.
- I learned that success feels good, and failure feels bad. If you take success for granted, you’re heading for failure. If you learn from your failures, success becomes a possibility. I remember a split rating we had difficulty understanding. Mr. Cooper didn’t knock the judge, we just went back to work. The next ratings were straight First Divisions all the way across.
- I learned that while perfection might be the goal, you have to go with what you’ve got. I’ve heard a lot of great imperfect performances. Mr. Cooper once remarked as we listened to a reel-to-reel performance tape, “It’s amazing that a bunch of kids playing noisemakers can make sounds that give you goosebumps.”
Thank you, Mr. Hal Cooper, for a lot of great memories and a few musical “goosebumps” along the way! Written in 2000 by Jim Warnock, now principal at Alma Intermediate School, but still a compulsive drummer.
Click below to hear the band.
Rosa Parks said, “The only tired I was, was tired of giving in,” when asked if she didn’t give up her seat because she was physically tired.
I was eight months old when Birmingham, AL, bus driver, James F. Blake, demanded that Rosa Parks give up her bus seat to a white man. I can’t find the name of the white man who boarded the bus and wasn’t given the seat by Rosa Parks, but think that it must have been sad for both of these men to live with that legacy.
Segregation in the schools was declared unconstitutional the year before I was born. I first shared a classroom with a black student in the sixth grade. Her name was Regina, and she drew my name for the Christmas party gift exchange. Funny what you remember.
I was playing drums in the sixth grade at a friend’s home close to West Woods Elementary in El Dorado, Arkansas, when I learned that Martin Luther King Jr. had been killed. I felt no emotion at all. I knew nothing of the man.
I never spoke of this to my classmate, Regina. I wish I could talk to her now. I’d ask her how it was that she was so brave in the sixth grade. I would ask her about what she felt when she learned that Martin Luther Kind had been killed.
Though I could rationalize that I was just a typical uninformed kid, I still feel sadness at my lack of emotion when I first heard of Dr. King’s death. The significance of his death and his work became more relevant throughout my life. His words have gained tremendous significance to me. Strength to Love became one of my favorite books and I referred to it often.
King said, “the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.” I thought today how long and slow that arc bends! In many ways, struggles for fairness and equity still continue today. In some ways, little progress has been made.
As I wrote this, I was reminded of a song lyric by Dan Fogelberg – “When faced with the past the strongest man cries.” I’m at least thankful that tears come into my eyes when confronted with our country’s continuing legacy of racism and discrimination. The arc of history needs to bend toward justice much faster!
My father died in January at the age of 91, so this is our first Christmas without him. I was going through some letters and found one that I mentioned during my dad’s funeral to illustrate his wisdom in parenting.
He would be quick to say he wasn’t a perfect parent. I’d be quick to counter, perfection isn’t required. He wrote this letter (one of only a few) following the birth of our first child, Christen, in 1984. I pulled out an excerpt that stuck in my memory the first time I read it over 30 years ago. I often say, “With parents like mine, I should have turned out better!”
The photo was taken by my mother as my father and I moved some dirt in our backyard. Wish I still had that little wheelbarrow!
Note: I would like to clarify that I never noticed the discipline slipping with my dad, but I did see evidence of unconditional love throughout his life.
A couple of months ago, I wrote a poem about my dad while thinking of how we spend years around someone and only scratch the surface. Part of the poem is below:
He was quiet, concrete, strong, and deliberate,
But often sang happy songs with a clear tenor voice.
He read slowly but knew what he read.
He was honest, even when it cost.
He loved his wife and kids, maybe imperfectly,
But he loved with his best understanding at the time.
Some have sad memories of their fathers.
Mine are not.
My only sadness? I barely knew him.