Chapter 2
The first page in Mary Johansson’s notebook consisted only of five words, all caps.
DIGNITY
RELEVANCE
INVOLVEMENT
VALIDITY
EMPATHY
Following this page was a sealed envelope addressed to Bernard Jacob Holtzman in elegant flowing cursive. Confused and highly apprehensive, Jay hesitated for a moment and then carefully opened it. Inside the envelope was a handwritten letter, five pages long, in that same cursive. It was dated September 31, 1990. That was shortly after he first joined the faculty at Wright. Jay started pacing, staring up toward the ceiling. This was personal.
He knew that her classes were consistently rated the highest by students at Wright and he wondered what her secret was and why and how it could have been addressed to him. He did not know Ms. Johansson, and he could not recall ever meeting her. Doubting that he would be able to capture the magic she used to enchant her students he was nervous that he may have taken on more than he could handle, or was this some sort of destiny.
Jay read the first sentence and was instantly light headed. He sat down, or more accurately fell down onto a chair at the dining room table. Placing the notebook on the table, his eyes were moist and his nose began to run. He looked away for a minute.
Collecting himself, he looked down at the letter. He read on and was captured by the words. His eyes hurt. Sounds all around were suddenly amplified. The ceiling fan was now loudly whirling. The clock ticked, tick, tick, tick; it was 3:30 p.m. The faucet in the bathroom dripped. Cars honked their horns outside. Jay told himself to concentrate and then the phone rang. It was Carol.
“Hello sweetheart”, Jay said hoarsely. Carol was alarmed. She asked, “What’s wrong?”.
Jay recalled his conversation with Dean Goldman and told her that he just got the materials from Mary Johansson, expecting to find nothing more than lesson plans, quiz and test materials, and some research, but that there was much more and that what he saw was strange and compelling.
He said, “It will take more time to digest all the materials, but what I found after the first page was a letter and it has secrets and a narrative that reveal a soul that is both compelling and encompassing. I am sure that whatever follows has to be held in the context of the beginning. Listen to this.”
Dear Jay Holtzman,
Alarmed, Carol interrupted and said, “She addressed this note to you personally and so casually?” Jay answered, “Yes, and what’s more, the note is dated September 31, 1990. That’s almost two years ago.”
Silence for a few seconds. Jay continued.
Dear Jay Holtzman, I am so glad that you listened to your mother and father and applied to teach at Wright. We wanted you here so that when my time comes, you will be in position to take over my work, my life’s work. Since you are reading this note, I know that I have died and you now have my mandate.
Jay paused and rubbed his nose. Carol said, “I’m coming home. I want to see this remarkable letter. Did you know that Mary Johansson knew your parents?” Jay said no and Carol said, “Sit down on the sedative chair and wait for me.” He did as she said and almost immediately felt the tension ebb. In less than five minutes, he was asleep.
It was 4:44 p.m. when Jay stirred. He had slept over an hour. Carol was kneeling next to the chair, naked and rubbing Jay. He was now instantly alert. Softly she said, “Jacob has been paying attention to my fondling for some time. It’s about time YOU woke up.” She stood up and gently taking his hand, got him to stand. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping him, she pulled his pants and boxers down to his ankles. Jay pulled off his shirt, he allowed Carol to lead him to the bedroom.
Stirring awake again to the smell of butterscotch cookies, his favorite, baking in the kitchen it was now 6:30 p.m. He was so relaxed after they made love that he fell asleep again.
Walking into the kitchen with only his boxers on he saw Carol leaning over the oven, wearing her apron and nothing else. He smiled. She put the tray of cookies on the stovetop. Jay walked up reaching for a cookie, but Carol lightly slapped his hand and said, “Not now.”, and she walked to the bedroom. They got dressed.
Grabbing Mary’s notebook from the kitchen table, Jay stepped into his study, where he had notes and files spread all over his desk near the arched floor lamp. He pulled an extra chair up and sat down. Carol walked in carrying the platter with the butterscotch cookies. Holding the platter above the table she looked at Jay and nodded. He strategically moved some papers and Carol put the tray on the open space. She wagged her finger and held it up as she walked out. Returning with a diet Dr. Pepper for Jay and a wine for herself, she put them on the table and sat down.
Jay leaned into Carol and holding the back of her neck, lightly kissed her on the lips, getting the same from her in like measure. Automatically, they said together, “disgusting” and laughed. He then said, “I love you so much. I want to marry you.” She started to reply, but Jay interrupted and with a slight pout said, “Yeah, I know. Not now, the time will come and we … Okay, but you know I will never stop asking and I have always, now more than ever, and will more ardently every day, love you for the rest of my life.”
He stopped there, not asking the obvious question, what about if we have kids, knowing that the last time he asked she said to never ask that again. She told him that while it is a good question, she has a surprise planned and no matter how many times he asks she will not reveal it. “You will be pleased I think, and I have a request that cannot be considered until it happens, birth that is, so drop it, don’t ask.” She said that if he should ask again, she will slug him and not gently.
Carol took a cookie from the platter and handed it to Jay. “Let’s see what Mary wrote … to you”
Jay took a large bite, closed his eyes and sighed. He picked up Mary’s notebook and opened it to the first page.
Noting that the list of attributes, DIGNITY, RELEVANCE, INVOLVEMENT, VALIDITY, and EMPATHY, formed the acronym DRIVE, Carol asked Jay what that meant. He said, “I don’t know yet, but I am sure it will be explained.”
She said, “Go on, please continue.”
Jay took another bite and a swig from his glass, turned the page, and read.
Dear Jay Holtzman,
I am so glad that you listened to your mother and father and applied to teach at Wright. We wanted you here so that when my time comes, you will be in position to take over my work, my life’s work. Since you are reading this note, I know that I have died. You now have my mandate. You have no choice, but I am confident that, in time, you will find as much joy in this work as I have for so many years.
I have inoperable lung cancer. The doctors have given me sixteen to eighteen months to live, so I have been working hard to prepare. I have always known that my life’s work would be more than I could hope to complete. In fact, and although this sounds arrogant, I believe that it is bigger than any of us since it is, as I define it, American democracy itself. Our country is in trouble and working our way out of it will take concerted effort and a long term commitment, maybe a generation, maybe more.
Jay paused and picked up another cookie.Taking a large bite, he mumbled, “These are so delicious. Thanks darling. I was really skeptical as I read, ‘define American democracy’, and I am sure you are as well.” Carol nodded. Jay continued.
Whoa, you are probably saying to yourself and I think I know you well enough that I am certain that you are thinking that I am probably delusional. Let me give you some background.
In 1979, as you were entering 8th grade, your parents and I met at a conference on government oversight of religious organizations. I was there because, you know, I am interested in everything government. Your parents were active at their synagogue, Congregation Rodfei Zedek. Your mother was on the board, in charge of communications, and your dad was was the chair of the fundraising committee. They were so cute, so close; it was infectious.
Anyway, we got to schmoozing and it didn’t take long before the conversation centered around you. Your father taught me, a Swiss Catholic, a bisl Yiddish.
They told me that you were never satisfied with easy answers, even when you were nothing more than a toddler. I came to understand that you were, and are, as I know now, a philosopher, a thinker of original thoughts and that you were never shy about sharing them. This brought you much consternation and caused you to have self doubt.
Your parents were brilliant, empathetic, and great motivators. They could have amassed a fortune if they would have chosen to pursue that as a goal, but they didn’t. Instead, they were satisfied selling the services and managing the cemetery where they worked and with the leadership roles they had at their synagogue.
Back to you; one of the stories they told me was very revealing and it was the one that got my attention that has lasted all of this time. You were in fourth grade and in the second week of the semester you came home all excited about meeting this girl in your class. Her name is Carol. I say “is” because I know that you are still together. That’s another story, I know, but that is not the one I found so fascinating.
You know your parents were always interested in your education, so they said that they asked you what happened that day, besides meeting Carol. You told them about your classmates sharing what they did on their summer vacations and specifically about their family vacations, what they did, what they saw, what they brought back, and how happy it made them. You were especially impressed by the story one of your classmates told about a praying mantis they caught. You then said to your parents, and I quote, “I know that vacation is the time between semesters, summer vacation and winter vacation, but I don’t know what vacation really is. I think it is more than just time waiting for the next semester. Why does it make the kids so happy? What does vacation really mean and why do I feel like it is so really, really important?”
Jay paused and put her notebook down. He looked at Carol. They were both crying. She said, “That is the same story you told me just this morning. That day in the fourth grade is the day we first connected. It was the day we fell in love.” Jay’s face was now buried on Carol’s shoulder. He looked up and said, “I know. I know. But I didn’t know about Ms. Johansson. How could I? My mother and father never told me. I don’t understand.”
For a while they just sat there at the table, not moving, just trying to collect themselves, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Jay said, “Let’s drink a toast to Ms. Johansson and my parents. They were the masters of secrets and shapers of a boy’s mind. This is as far as I got when you called me.” Jay took a swig of his soda and Carol sipped her wine.
She told him not to stop there. Looking down at the notebook. Finding his place in the letter, he continued.
I can quote you from back then because you kept a journal. You had always asked a lot of questions and when you could write, your parents told you not to lose track of your ideas and thoughts, to write them down in as much detail that you could, to even create an a record of the categories of things you were thinking, an index, in a separate book and you did.
Your father said that his answer was, “Son, vacation IS really, really important. Vacation is a time where you are allowed to forget about everyday routines and responsibilities and where you can fill your mind and time with pursuits that give you nothing more than happiness. It is a time for play and exploration, a time to relate to the ones you love most. It is a time of appreciation for each other, for our Earth and its creatures, for our heritage, for our country, and for God. And it is a release from the pressure cooker that we call every day.”
Your parents were confident that their nine year old son would understand all of this. The next thing you said, and your parents reaction to it, is the reason why I asked them not to tell you about me and why, I did not tell your parents this at the time, why I thought that you may be the one to carry on my life’s work. Remember, you were only 13 at the time I met your parents, so for me to consider such a possibility is, to say the least, an immense leap.
You said, “Mom, Dad, you are happy, we are happy, but you never take time off from work. I know that we appreciate each other and all those other things. But there is more to it, right? Why would anyone want to forget about responsibilities? Haven’t you told me that we have many responsibilities and we cannot forget them. Would you be happier if you forgot about your responsibilities to each other and to me?”
Your parents said that this gave them pause, but no more than that. They told me that they then praised you for your question.
They then turned to me and both, at the same time, looked me directly in they eye and told me that they often reminded you that the most important thing they could teach you was that, first you must listen to the people who you interact with and consider that they are probably speaking with conviction derived from their experience and beliefs and that what they are saying is correct for them. They pointed out that allowing for contributions of others as being valuable to you and right for them is the first part of a very important attribute, namely, humility.
They didn’t both speak at the same time, but they were finishing each other's sentences without hesitation. I was transfixed. I told them that although the conference was about to resume, that I would rather continue our conversation instead of returning. They were hesitant, but agreed.
I asked them for more about humility. They said that the next part is that you have a responsibility to examine what you’re told and decide if it is something that you also believe, ascribe to, and are willing to share. They continued their lesson to me with quotes from Thomas Jefferson: “For here we are not afraid to follow truth wherever it may lead.”, and “If we (in America) are to guard against ignorance and remain free, it is the responsibility of every American to be informed.”
It is important for us to not only listen to others with respect and empathy, but also to verify the truth ourselves in order to understand how we, ourselves, can contribute to the good of our community and to assess our own worth.
This assessment of our own worth is the other part of humility and neither part can stand on its own.
Your parents then told me that what they told you next was that you were right and that their definition of vacation was not comprehensive enough, that the issue was much more nuanced. It also made them realize that they themselves had to rethink what they were doing to themselves and you when they did not take regular vacations.
They realized that you asked a great question, as you so often did, and that they needed to think about what they told you and whether what they said was correct or even partially correct. They said that they praised you and thanked you for again being their teacher and they promised to let you know more in a few days. In the end, they did give you a more nuanced assessment of vacation, and after some family discussion, formulated the thoughts into an action plan.
I asked them how often this scenario played out on other subjects. They said that it was more the norm than the exception. To say that I was excited is the understatement of my career.
I wanted to know how that played out in school for you. What I meant is how this kind of independent thinking played out. Your parents said that it was often a source of conflicts. Many teachers were not able to understand the value of contributions from their students when the student challenged thought. This led to less than stellar grades.
This did not surprise me as I have run into the same resistance with many of my own thoughts and conclusions, so I proposed that we, your parents and I, find a way for both of us to benefit from forming and continuing our relationship.
We agreed to meet once about every couple months to talk about any new developments. I encouraged you parents to continue what they were already doing to support your natural trait of questioning authority and politically correct pronouncements. I told them to steer you toward a liberal education that valued as many aspects of life as possible, including art, music, writing, acting, and as many physical activities as possible. That could include both team and individual sports.
I said that you need to do the best that you can, but they should not worry about you excelling academically. If you didn’t get the best grades, do not worry. I have many high power contacts that I have cultivated over my career. These people can make sure that you, Jay, would be able to go to whatever university you chose, even if it were an Ivy League college. The only caveat would be that you were not to be told what school to choose. That had to be strictly your choice.
To say that your parents were skeptical is an understatement, but four months later we had our first meeting and I was never disappointed.
Jay paused, closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He was clutching the letter to his chest, now alone in his thoughts. Carol got up and walked around the table to stand behind Jay. She put her hands on his shoulders and kneaded the muscles tensed beneath his shirt. When she could feel him start to relax a bit she said to him, “There’s a lot for you to unpack here. I think you need to put the letter to the side for a while.
“You only have eleven working days to put together a lesson plan and you haven’t gotten past the first page of Mary’s notes. I propose that we agree to a plan where you spend at least the first four hours of each day studying Mary’s material and organizing it into your own plans for this semester. After that, you can read more of the letter, take notes, put your own thoughts to paper, and meditate on the meaning of this turn of events. Then, you can prepare dinner for us and when I get home, we can talk about it. Unless you discipline yourself, you will not be ready for the semester.”
She turned Jay’s chair so that he faced her and she stroked his cheek. Tenderly, she kissed him and said, “Let’s go out to Benny’s for dinner tonight. I think we need some matzah ball soup, hot pastrami sandwiches with potato chips and a dill, and, of course, a Diet Dr. Pepper for you and an iced tea for me. When we get home, we can put on some music and whatever. Okay?”
Jay agreed.
Go to back to fiction that allows comments