STANDING UP FOR AND WITH

As a student In my Los Angeles high school, during an assembly, a friend, Jack Bellano, was being
harassed by some students because of the way he looked.  Although this school was a mixture
of many people of color and race, "they" wanted him to move his seat and go elsewhere.
Instinctively, I came over and without thinking, "Jack stays where he is.  Leave him alone."
They did. 

While in the Navy, on board an aircraft carrier, one of the other enlisted men took on the role
of demanding one of the Filipino cooks move faster.  The second time I saw this, I told the
"white" Navy man to leave the cook alone and respect him.  He resisted until I showed him that
I had one more day of ranking over him.  Reluctantly, he stepped back. 

The story continues.  During my second year of high school teaching, I discovered the principal
was placing all the black students in a special education class--a class that received more money
from the state.  The other twenty-two teachers were aware of this.  The principal, when I approached
him, said, "so?"

I decided to report this to the State and ask for an investigation.  All twenty-two teachers said
they would confirm this practice and speak up when the investigators came.   I called the
State Education office, and an investigator came days later.

Each person was questioned individually.  I later learned that of the twenty-two teachers, none
of them spoke up.  I was the only one to speak up.  I knew I would not be rehired, instead, I was
terminated during my second year.  As this was happening, I applied to teach in Santa Barbara, California, and was hired to begin in the new school year. 

Weeks later after the investigation was over, and I was in my last weeks of teaching, I received a letter from the Santa Barbara school district, withdrawing their offer of hiring me.  No reason
was given, nor was one needed.  By this time, I had learned there was a silent State "blackball" system in place in case someone should question the system.

I was disappointed, yet I knew something good would come of the incident.  It did.  With a family of two children and one wife, I applied for work with a new federal program that required me to work with and among Native Americans......a people and culture I only knew from movies.   I was to be a "therapist" kind of counselor to Native Americans from many tribes around the country, all gathered in one location.  Within one month, I realized that the all-White staff knew little of Native culture or ways in the world, nor interested,  As a regular "white" guy, I soon felt more "Indian" than regular white guy.  I discovered the meaning of Sacred, humor, compassion, family, caring, and most of all, less empty trying to impress talking, and the power of silence between words.....and simple presence of silence.

After two years of advocating for the Native people in peaceful ways, providing meaningful service, the program CEO told me I needed to leave, and I was to be terminated.  The 200 Native students heard of my departure, and went on strike, declining to go to classes, thus depriving the administration of government funds.  They demanded that I be reinstated first.  For two days, they
struck.  I felt shy and embarrassed by their standing up for me.  I was rehired and the program
went on.

Incidents continued through my life where I instinctively stood by and for people.  I had to.
And why is another story.  One sentence about what motivated me.  As a five-year-old Jewish boy in
New York, then later as an eight-year old little boy in Glendale, California, I experienced being harassed, and hated for being a Jew, something I did not know I was.  I was just me, a little boy
who liked to play.  Yet, my personal childhood experiences, deeply wakened me to caring for, and standing up for others marginalized and mistreated.   I had to. 




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