After reading the title, most of you elders out there will instinctively say these words to yourself: "Who wrote the Book of Love?"
Why? Many of you juniors reading this may be wondering. Because those are the very next words to the popular song sung by the Monotones in 1958. Everyone knew it, sung it and still can sing it today. "Who Wrote the Book of Love" is locked into our brains, hearts and our souls, forever.
I wonder, wonder, who....who-oo-ooh
Who wrote the Book of Love?
As a side-note, but actually not remotely a side-note, 1958 was very possibly the most important year of my young life. I was 12 years old and had just entered seventh grade at Pleasantville Junior High School. That's right, Pleasant-ville, really.
But what made this year and entering seventh grade so important, memorable and filled with wonder? Very simply, it was our new English and Social Studies teacher, Mr. Stanley Ashe. As far as we were concerned, although most of us weren't mature enough to articulate it, Mr. Ashe wrote the Book of Love.
Each of us had already had roughly seven teachers prior to Mr. Ashe. Kindergarten through sixth grade. The majority of them were caring, thoughtful and dedicated. I had very few complaints and appreciated every one of them.
The Soviet Union had launched the first satellite, Sputnik, the previous year and the Cold War was heating up. Our American schools were doing their best to identify brain power so we could train potential scientific leaders. The Western world was scared. President Eisenhower spoke to the nation: "We need scientists in the 10 years ahead. Scrutinize your school's curriculum and standards. Then decide for yourselves whether they meet the stern demands of the era we are entering."
My fellow students and I, in Mr. Ashe's two classes, were the academically average group, based upon our elementary school grades and standardized test scores. The burden of national security was not being placed directly on our shoulders, but fear still filled the air.
Mr. Ashe loved us. All of us. How do I know that? You didn't have to have a high IQ to see the look on students' faces as we skipped through the hallway to his class. Upon arrival, we weren't just trying our best to listen and remember what he was saying so we could pass the next quiz. Not even close. We were in never-before-experienced classroom heaven!
Mr. Ashe (we call him Stan now) actually asked questions requiring us to think, even to ponder. Not simply fill-in-the-blank kinds of questions. He actually wondered what we were thinking about. He was curious. He was a non-stop wonderer. His wondering about us told us everything — he cared.
He knew I was a pretty good basketball player, so he would take me into the gym after school and teach me dribbling, passing and shooting drills that improved my game. Would I have gone on to play college basketball without Stan caring about me?
And he never punished anyone.
If someone was a little out of line, which rarely ever happened, he would be curious about why that was going on. He wondered. He never once took it personally. He never played tough guy. When I clearly plagiarized one of my English papers, he made it clear to me that he knew, by reading it to the entire class, but never even once did he say anything to me or the class. I got his message.
To this day, I have his message.
No guilt.
No shame.
Only Stan's love and caring.
The more we wonder rather than judge, the more we connect, the better our world becomes. We need more bridges.
And there is a place for walls.
Blessedly, there is even another level of wonder.
Not just curiosity and interest, but the wonder of wonders. True wonder. Breathtaking wonder. Awestruck wonder. Way, way beyond appreciation wonder. Allowing ourselves to be stunned. Teary-eyed wonder. No words wonder.
Last Monday and for nearly a year now, I have been Zooming with Stan and fellow-student and dear friend, Anne Valentine. Don't ask me how this miracle started. None of us can remember.
But we are all in deep awe and wonder that this is actually happening.
Recently Stan turned 90 and he still participates in at least two book clubs and other esoteric academic classes. He's a born wonderer.
Wonder works.
Awe does, too.
Bless you, Stan.
Wonder on, my friends!
- Burt Gershater is a counselor, leadership trainer, speaker and writer. He can be reached at [email protected] / www.burtgershater.com
