It’s worth a look. Yes, I know. It is 41 years old. So am I and 16 more.

School plights have always been popular with movies. Wildcats. Hoosiers. Fame. The Principal. Lean on Me. Mr. Holland’s Opus. Conrack. The Breakfast Club. All the Right Moves. The Paper Chase. Do we need to go on?

No, we don’t need to go on. But we can look at the list we have here and notice most of them were made in the 1980s. The one that means the most to me from this era is the movie TEACHERS. TEACHERS stars Nick Nolte. I have a soft spot for Nick. He played the lead role in Pat Conroy’s novel turned motion picture The Prince of Tides. I hold Pat Conroy and The Prince of Tides with the same regard I have for The Moody Blues and Days of Future Passed. Conroy is that important to me.

Over the years I have watched the movie TEACHERS many times. It is a good one to put on and exercise by. I know what is going to happen, just as I know I need 30 more minutes on the elliptical. This movie keeps me moving. I never give up on it. In turn, this movie never lets me down.

Sure, it is a movie. There are moments that are a little hard to believe. I have been an educator for 30 years and I don’t know a story about a guy from a mental institution posing as a substitute. I never saw a student bite a teacher on the wrist so viciously it drew blood.

Filmed in a school in Columbus, Ohio, there is little externally most of us educators can relate to when we watch this movie. The security guards opening the school in the morning don’t resonate. A student getting shot in the hallway doesn’t resonate, even if he did have a piece in his hand. But we have seen some of the administrators in the movie. We have seen some of the teachers in the movie. We have seen some of the teacher union reps in the movie. We have seen some of the school board members in the movie. Most of all, we have seen some of the students in the movie. Some of it is very real.

What is real for me, as always, is the music. Recently, I finally acquired the soundtrack for this movie on CD. Legal fights and music licensing has made this a tough piece to get a hand on, unless you wanted to part with some serious coin.

I finally found the CD for a decent price. I am listening to it as I type these words. The cassette tape in this picture is an original. It still plays after all these years. I acquired the vinyl a few years ago. On recently did I acquire the CD I have been looking to get for years. You won’t find this on streaming services. The highlights for me on the soundtrack are the songs Understanding by Bob Seger, Teacher, Teacher by 38 Special, and the great Joe Cocker tune On the Edge of a Dream.

I don’t have many musical regrets. That I did not see Joe Cocker sing live is one of them. This tune, On the Edge of a Dream, is one my favorite songs. I never tire of listening to it. I listen to it often. Fortunately, this tune has shown up on Joe Cocker compilations and is easy to find on streaming services. I listen to it more than once every week. I can’t say that about many songs. There is just such a strength to it. Cocker was a soul singer. And on this tune, he brings it all with class and soul and earnest. Had I been in the studio listening to him sing this song, I never would have thought about stepping foot in a studio to sing myself. I guess I am glad I was not there.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

Editorial Note: I just found out that Joe Cocker will be inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Class of 2025. Too late for Joe to see it.

Looking back doesn’t cost as much as looking forward.  I suppose that is why so many of us do it from time to time.

The story has been conveyed before.  I graduated from high school in 1986.  From that time until the spring of 1991, I was a man with very little direction. As one friend tried to put it, he said I was finding myself.  I disagreed and told him I was right here all along. Through it all, my mind has always been open.  That is no great secret.  At least I hope it is not.  

In and out of school over the course of more than four years, I finally heeded the call to return to academia in earnest thanks to a serendipitous conversation I had with Mrs. Nancy Totten.  Nancy worked at the Indiana University Southeast library and also taught some writing courses, one of which I was a student.  With me, it always circles back around with the process of putting words on a literal or mechanized piece of paper.  

So in the spring of 1991, I was back in school for real this time.  Still unsure of the end game, I felt it.  This was the right thing to do.  Thank God I was paying attention.  

In my life I have never been short on coming across the right person at the right time for inspiration, affirmation, and direction.  This correlates with that open-mindedness we mentioned earlier; I am sure about that.  At the top of the list is Dr. Millard Dunn.  I have written about Millard here on many occasions.  He showed me an English classroom could actually look and sound like one I might be in charge of some day.  The dominoes started to tumble.  The snowball gained momentum and rolled with ease.  All of that sort of stuff.  

Around this time I was in my natural habitat.  I would spend three consecutive falls on a football field as a high school assistant coach.  After deciding on English as a teaching goal, in the fall of 1992 I had my first “field experience”.  This is where the college student is assigned a particular high school to visit and also assigned a particular teacher to observe.  Once again, I was seriously smiled upon.  

“You’re assigned to New Albany High School”, my college professor said.  “Your teacher to observe is Mr. Danny Tieken.  Good luck.”   

With that, I was given an assignment to go to New Albany High School, meet Danny Tieken, and work up a schedule with him that would include a set amount of hours of observation in Mr. Tieken’s classroom.  When I walked into his classroom, I met a short, portly gentleman with a bit of a scraggly beard that he had a habit of scratching at when he spoke to you.  His eyes?  As kind as any set I had ever seen and sincerely interested in everything you too had to say.  I was at ease in a single moment.  Check that box and then, check every other box.  

Within five minutes of conversation, I discovered Mr. Tieken was Coach Tieken.  And we were off.  He called me Coach.  I called him Coach.  I learned more about the vertical passing game sitting at his desk XXXXing and OOOOing than I had ever learned before.  And I thought I knew something.  Our time was special.  I gained even more affirmation that an English classroom could indeed work like I wanted it to.  His rapport with his students was genuine. Again, Coach Tieken was “one of those”.  One of those folks that left an indelible mark on my life.  Every day I was there at New Albany we ate lunch with New Albany legends Don Unruh, Lee Kelly, and Jim Miller.  I had a blast every time we sat together.  I listened and I learned.  I spoke when I was spoken to.  I did not want to get in the way.  I didn’t.

I lost track of how many coaching stops Danny Tieken made.  I was envious.  I don’t get that way.  Head Coach at Dugger, Mitchell, and Brown County, and assistant coach at the likes of New Albany, Bloomington North and Evansville North among others.

Coach Tieken and I would meet up in subsequent years going to coaching meetings.  We then kept up with emails now and again.  Ultimately, we became “friends” all over again on facebook.  

Our last back and forth messages were on March 20th of this year.  I was giving him encouragement, as I knew he was dealing with health issues.  He said he appreciated it and said he was feeling better.

Coach Tieken passed away this past Tuesday.  I was not shocked.  Just sad.  He was one of the good guys. There is a legion of players having a difficult time saying goodbye to their Coach.  They knew him better than I did.

I know. I know. Things aren’t all bad. They just seem that way from moment to moment now and again.

What was not bad this past week was when a senior, at the high school where I work, walked into my office to ask a question. He was dumbfounded when he looked at my office decor and found many Moody Blues related items. Then it was my turn to be dumbfounded when he started rattling off song titles like Melancholy Man, Legend of a Mind, Ride My See-Saw, and Lost in a Lost World. Two of these songs would be considered Moody Blues “deep cuts” I would not expect anyone, besides myself in that building, to have any inkling of. This young man, sporting a Pink Floyd t-shirt, was delighted to know I saw Pink Floyd in concert once. We talked music for a while. In earnest, I am glad the person he came down to talk to was out of the office. This little exchange was a nice piece of punctuation on a week that was more than trying.

Speaking the Rights here on this space is more difficult than it used to be. I blame that on myself. The political climate and our country’s willing attack on the democratic process has really had me down. My writing habits have never been ones you could call negative. I prefer optimism. Seems optimism has lost some of its popularity.

I’ll never get it. As long as I live, I will never get it. Folks burning Tesla automobiles – not smart- are deemed domestic terrorists. Folks beating down the gates and smashing windows of the United States capitol building (January 6th) are considered patriots. This is messed up.

I don’t spend a great deal of time on social media sparring with folks over political issues. That could be a full-time job. They don’t listen anyway. When I think about the folks beholden to Donald Trump, I think about the line in the old 80s movie Some Kind of Wonderful when the foil was getting his. “I can’t do anything to them that haven’t already done to themselves.”

Celebrating some guy (Elon Musk) holding a chainsaw over his head as he brags about the ruination of American families and their ability to sustain rightful, gainful employment is, again, messed up. What is the immigration status of that guy anyway?

When I think about all of this hateful Republican stuff, I hear the old hymn “Send a Great Revival”. That is one of my favorites. Nope. Never mind. Not gonna hold my breath on that. Not when the White House Faith Leader, Paula White, is selling Easter Blessings for $1000 in the name of Donald Trump. This old practice reminds me of the old Hank Williams Jr. song The American Dream. He sings about a preacher on TV in a suit and a tie and a vest. He tells you to send your money to the Lord and he gives you his address. Well, here we go again. My apologies to a real Republican, Ronald Reagan.

See what I mean. This stupidity is unfathomable. More is on the way. Indiana School Board elections are going to be partisan soon. Mark my word. That will be interesting. So far, decorum has ruled the day with non-partisan school board elections. After all, the kids can’t vote, and they are the political football. Non-partisan makes sense. Republicans are in charge in Indianapolis. They don’t make sense. Monkey see monkey do is the copy and paste mentality they are led by. So, when the board elections are partisan, I suppose decorum will go out the window with it. Teachers will be given a license, based on the leadership of the corporation’s ruling board, to hang a Donkey or an Elephant in their rooms. Right? Like I said, so much for decorum.

This was one of the first pictures I put on speaktherights.com over a decade ago. It was a much simpler time. Times like these are what I hope we can return to our youngsters coming up. We can apologize for being the imbeciles that we are and acknowledge that they will, no doubt, do better. No doubt they will be wiser. They are paying attention.

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson