Some 40 of you responded to the rant about my high school. One
respondent called me a racist; two or three were critical. All the rest
were supportive.

The hostile response was elicited by my use of the word “savages” to
describe high school freshmen. I was referring to freshmen in general –
not the particular freshman class that gave me grief — and I was
paraphrasing someone else. But the word choice was mine and it was a
careless one. I apologize to anyone who was offended.

I mentioned that some African-American kids at my high school had called
me racist because of my use of the phrase “white flight” to describe
what my family had been part of when I was 14 years old. One [white
male] respondent said he could understand this reaction since the phrase
sounds inflammatory. Interesting. “White flight” is, to my knowledge, a
derisive term coined by blacks to describe white behavior. Still, my
respondent may be right. There’s no reason to think the (black) kids who
took offense knew the derivation of the phrase.

Many thoughtful responses came from people who are or have been
teachers. I’d like to quote some of these in this posting. Next time
I’ll quote from the rest of you. First, a [white female] high school
teacher in northern Indiana:

“As someone who has taught for 15 years in what amounts to the suburban
inner city, I can tell you I relate, relate, relate. … I have had
plenty of eye rolls myself about comments (facts) I have made about
black history or interpretations of black literature and, when I have
confronted those students about their skepticism, they only become
reticent when they can’t relate even the most common information about
their own heritage in this country. Don’t feel too bad. I completely
believe these students were not only not listening to you, their parents
have no idea about the history of blacks in this country either, or if
they do, they certainly have not imparted it to their children. It’s sad
but true.”

From a [black female] retired businesswoman who now substitute-teaches
in Texas: “Everything that teacher [Kara Bickhem, an African-American
teacher at my old high school] said about African-American freshmen is
true. Most of the parents do not care. I have a degree in elementary
school education and have worked as a volunteer-mentor even when I was
in business, and now as a substitute. I am dismayed at what is happening
to our Black youth. And is it our (the Black race) fault, I weepingly
admit. I came up in the 60’s and I know how hard we fought to get some
rights. These kids are throwing them all away. Not all. I work almost
exclusively in a talented and gifted elementary school and high school
and I see Black geniuses to-be. But they are so few compared. …”

Race isn’t the issue, says a [white female] teacher of college freshmen:
“My students are predominantly white and their behavior is like this
each and every day. Last week, one of them asked me why we had to read
this stuff. ‘This stuff’ being two short stories: one by Flannery
O’Connor and the other by Joyce Carol Oates. He said, ‘When in my life
am I ever going to need to know this. How is this going to help me?’ He
then went on to rant about the entire education system and how he didn’t
see the point of it.

“Frankly, I don’t see the point in him being in my class either. … My
larger point is, why is this person in college if not for an education?
Admission standards in most higher learning institutions across the
nation have steadily declined in the past 20 years. At [my university],
they are practically nonexistent. If you have the money, come on in. In
the past, elitism at the college level referred to an economic barrier
that prohibited highly intelligent people from poor backgrounds [from
getting] a degree. Financial aid, grants, and scholarships have taken
care of this matter. What is at play now is that ‘everyone should get a
degree.’ If you don’t have the academic skills, you shouldn’t be
rewarded with the final prize. Most of students cannot read beyond an
8th grade level. And, around 85% of them aren’t interested in learning
at all. Around 60% admit they don’t even care if they get a degree.
They’re there simply because that is what people do.

“The point is that somewhere along the way young people have lost their
love of books and forgotten the excitement of learning something new.”

A [white male] university administrator and professor observed of rude
high school behavior that “they do grow up,” but points out that the
kids he teaches behave better because they WANT to be in class. He
teaches both in the classroom and on line. “[Most students in my
program] are African-American. Some of the younger ones struggle, but I
have a class of 7 adults (5 African-Americans and 2 Muslims). They want
to learn and achieve. Online there is no difference between students
from different cultures/races. The main differential is age and life
experience; get out of their way if they are in the military. I have
women who have worked their way off of welfare and are near completing
their degree.”

A [white female] teacher of high school French said: “I spent 12 years
teaching in eastern Montgomery County (MD), and I saw too much of what
you described. There was almost a deliberate ignorance among too many of
the kids. I was called racist because I had a tee shirt with the names
of all the countries in the world where French is the major language.
One of them was spelled, ‘Niger.’ You can imagine how the kids read that
particular one. This readiness to read insult in the most benign things
actually kept these kids from learning properly; they were too keyed
into detecting the slightest sign of (perceived by them) disrespect.
What a shame that the noble Civil Rights Movement has disintegrated into
this!”

And finally, from a woman I’ve never met in person — I know her via the
First-Novel.com listserv. Her response will have to speak for itself:

“Recently …, the idea that freshmen are not yet ready for high school
has prompted another change in the system in many places, including the
school system where I was teaching for 5 years. It’s called 9th Grade
Academy or Freshman Academy. It’s an attempt to keep the freshmen
isolated from the rest of the students in the high school. 9th graders
are either in completely different halls or completely different
buildings and only mingle with higher grades in some elective courses
like Choir or Drama.

“I have had similar experiences as a drama teacher, performing in front
of various grades. Freshmen are always the worst. But honestly, the
overall ability of today’s students to sit a listen to lectures or
watch performances is horrid, if my students are any sort of example. I
had to spend the first couple of years teaching the student body AND
their parents how to be an audience. They had no idea about how to watch
a play with talking, either to each other or to the actors on stage.
Movies have spoiled theater in many ways. …

“As for the race problem, I taught in rural Georgia. Race is still a
huge issue there, but not in the same way. I, too, find the students
unaware of the struggles of the past, engaging easily in talk of ‘black
things and ‘white things’. I very rarely, if ever, referred to people
in terms of skin color, but here, where the ratio of white, black and
Hispanic was about 40-50-10, it was all about skin. It was disturbing
to me at first. Okay, it’s still disturbing, but I had to accept it to
some extent, because that was how it was. I hated my son hearing it and
was glad when talk of ‘I can’t dance, I’m white’ was deemed unacceptable
in our karate classes.

“Mind if I share an alternate theory on your ‘kids in the back’ who
called you racist? I’m sure they heard the “white flight” part, not
knowing what that was, an[d] automatically assumed it was a racist
remark, not because they weren’t paying attention, but because they were
more aware. Having been in the ‘doper and burnout’ crowd, I know that
many of those kids have a wider knowledge of the world’s issues, if not
a complete understanding. They may have been erroneously offended by the
words because they didn’t have the background to understand the white
flight (that’s that bad communication between parent and child and bad
education), but they knew enough to have an emotional response. I may
not be explaining this well, but at that age, [kids having] strong
feelings about something, even if wrong, is better than no feelings at
all. …

“Any[way], don’t give up on the kids. If anything, MORE authors,
performers and lecturers should go to schools. Teach the students HOW
to be audiences, HOW to be critical thinkers, creative thinkers. THAT’S
what’s wrong with education today. We don’t teach the basics well and
we don’t teach them how to be critical and creative. We teach them to
be selfish, that everyone is special and deserves what they WANT. Oh, I
could go on. I’m an involved parent and former teacher, so I can talk.”

Thanks to all of for this heartfelt outpouring. Next time, the response
of the non-teachers.

Frank Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. I’m wiped out. I visited bookstores in Morgantown WV, Monroeville
(Pittsburgh area) PA, Columbus OH, Dayton OH and Springdale (Cincinnati
area) OH. I put 1,239 miles on the car (and my ass) in five days. But I
had a great time with family members Jud and Jim Judkis, reconnected
with high school classmate Charlie Albright and met his delightful wife
Terrie, and finally met listserv pen-pal Skye Blaine in person, with her
sister Margaret. And I met wonderful people in the Borders and B&Ns
along the way.

P.P.S. You can hear me in the Washington-Baltimore area next Sunday afternoon
on WMET 1160 AM World Radio. I’m being interviewed at 3 o’clock on Kwame
Alexander’s arts-and-culture show “Word of Mouth.”

On Oct. 6, I faced the toughest audience of the book tour: High school freshmen. Not just any high school freshmen, either, but freshmen at my high school, Rich East, in Park Forest IL.

It was an assembly for two classes — an honors sophomore English class and a garden-variety freshman English class. Ten-fifteen minutes along, the sophomores walked out, not because of something I did but because of a scheduling oddity. That threw me off stride. But worse was in store.

I started reading from To Love Mercy. Big mistake. I felt myself losing them.

They began talking among themselves. Standing up. Trying to walk out. Dissing me.

I tried not to show the panic I felt. A teacher in back called for order, told the standees to sit down. That helped a little.

I thought to engage them so I started asking questions. That didn’t work so well, but one girl did ask something. I don’t know what she asked, really, because I couldn’t understand what she was saying.

It’s at this point that I have to disclose an awkward fact: Almost all these freshmen were African-American. The reason I couldn’t understand the girl was partly ambient noise but partly her English, which isn’t the same as my English.

Those of you who know me, know I am not a racist; but it’s going to be hard to complete this post without sounding racist. Nevertheless, I’ll try, and let the chips fall where they may.

The next thing I remember was telling them the story of how a cross was burned on a lawn in Park Forest, in 1958, my senior year in high school.

Some of the kids did not understand the significance of this event. The teacher in back, Kara Bickhem (who also is African-American), explained; then Kara had to explain what the Ku Klux Klan was. I added helpfully that cross-burning was a form of terrorism. I don’t think my explanation made much difference.

Mercifully the assembly ended. The next period, I addressed that honors sophomore English class. This went a lot better. One kid said he liked to write things that kept the reader reading, and I was off to the races. I parsed the first paragraph of To Love Mercy. I even got to explain “in medias res” (look it up). The majority of this class were African-Americans too, but maybe 20%-30% were white.

In the course of the day, I spent close to an hour chatting with Kara Bickhem about high school then and now, education in general, freshmen in particular, and of course race. This woman is extraordinary — young, smart, tough, but with a huge heart. I’d have loved to have had such a teacher in high school. Some of the things she told me:

• Freshmen are uncivilized, unsocialized savages. (My words, not hers, but I think that was the gist.) They improve quickly, but still.

• Freshmen know very little. Somehow they’ve gotten to high school without learning the basics. I’d just had a chilling demonstration of this, so I had to agree.

• Corollary: Not much in the way of parent-child communication occurs in some homes. You’d think they’d learn about stuff like cross-burning and the Ku Klux at home, especially if African-American, but not all do.

Kara Bickhem’s “some day” ambition is to be in a job where she can affect how education is delivered in high schools. When she said it, I chuckled. Everyone knows education in high school could stand improving, I said, and thought of an experience I had 10 or more years ago.

I was doing a market-research project for a newsletter for high school principals, which required me to interview at least two dozen principals by phone. The interviews were from coast to coast. Some lasted an hour or more. What I heard loud and clear — especially from principals in less-affluent schools, but from some of the more-affluent ones too — was the lack of parent involvement. Society wants us to do everything — be educators, be cops, be politically correct, get the kids into Harvard — but we can’t even get the parents to come to school when their kids are in trouble, let alone day-to-day involvement, and we can’t be effective without parents’ support, the principals reported.

I still remember the genuine pain in these principals’ voices. Now, some parents work two jobs; some parents don’t have much education themselves; some parents can’t even speak English. But what parent doesn’t want the best for his or her children? And when the school calls to them for support, what parent could resist?

The day ended with a third assembly. Most of these kids were juniors and seniors. I felt this assembly went well, but afterwards I got another shock. Two Rich alumni were in the audience — Judy Lohr, president of the Rich alumni association, who graduated a few years after me, and Janet Hills (Wilkinson), who graduated in my class. They reported that several kids sitting near them had called me a racist.

Following the assembly, Judy and Janet challenged these kids. The kids said, ‘When he started talking about “white flight,” we tuned him out.’ (What I’d told the assembly was that my family had moved to Park Forest as part of the “white flight” of Jews from Hyde Park. This was just a fact. It was my parents doing the “flying,” not me; I was 14 years old and had no say in the matter whatsoever.)

Now, as I said, I thought this assembly had gone well; receptive audience, good questions, a nice vibe. The kids who thought I was a racist were not all the kids in the room, just some kids sitting in back where the dopers and burnouts like to hang out. Maybe these particular kids weren’t listening very closely to my words. Maybe they weren’t thinking about what I was saying. Maybe I was racist.

Whatever. When I heard this, I felt a great sadness. Here I am, author of a novel that I hope will stimulate blacks and whites to talk a bit more honestly about race, and this happens. It’s discouraging.

Park Forest when I lived there was lily-white. Park Forest today is pretty black — the 2000 census says 39.41% but, walking the halls of Rich East, I’m guessing the student body is 70% or more African-American. Kara Bickhem told me there was a period in the ’80s when “PF” became a multicultural magnet, a place where blacks and whites of good will moved to live in harmony with each other. I sense there’s been somewhat of a socioeconomic slide since then.

I had a hard time writing this post, and now that I’ve written it I don’t know what it all adds up to. I know my Rich East experience was anecdotal; I probably have no business even writing about it, much less inflating it with sociological import. I know for sure now that freshmen are savages and I’m damned if I’m ever going to talk to a group of them again. (Big talk but bullshit: If invited, I probably will.) I know I’ll never know the answers to the problems of race in America, and even using the techniques of fiction to ask provocative questions is probably a mug’s game. And I know, two weeks later, that I’m having trouble getting my high school out of my mind.

Frank Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. Amazon, ever incomprehensible, has lowered the price of To Love Mercy without explanation. It’s $9.72 again, a 35% discount. Get ‘em while they’re hot at http://www.amazon.com/Love-Mercy-Frank-S-Joseph/dp/0974478539/sr=8-1/qid=1160362410/ref=pd_bbs_1/002-6059044-7704803?ie=UTF8&s=books

P.P.S. I’m off! Tomorrow … Barnes & Noble, Morgantown WV! Here’s the full schedule:

• Friday, Oct. 20, 6 p.m. - Barnes & Noble, 3000 University Towne Centre Dr., Morgantown WV

• Saturday, Oct. 21, 2 p.m. - Borders, 200 Mall Blvd., Monroeville PA (Pittsburgh area)

• Sunday, Oct. 22, 2 p.m. - Borders, 6670 Sawmill Road, Columbus OH

• Monday, Oct. 23, 7 p.m. - Borders, Dayton Mall, 2700 Miamisburg-Centerville Rd., Dayton OH

• Tuesday, Oct. 24, 7 p.m. - Borders, 11711 Princeton Pike, Springdale OH (Cincinnati area)

Several months ago, I announced that To Love Mercy was going into a second printing. As Mark Twain noted about news of his funeral, the announcement was premature. Turns out 500 books were unaccounted for. Those books are gone now and, glory be, the second printing is occurring.

A novel called Beneath a Marble Sky is going into its second printing too, and the author, John Shors, has done a brilliant thing. Shors was the subject of a recent Newsweek article headlined “BOOK CLUBS Invite Me! I’ll Come!” The story said Shors added a personal note in his second printing offering to appear at book clubs in person or by phone. Since June, the article said, Shors has “been doing at least one book club each night — and he’s booked new ones as far off as November ‘07.”

My wife Carol clipped this article while I was in Chicago last week. “Your book is going into its second printing too. Read this,” she said, and winked.

(I made that up. She didn’t wink. Carol never winks. Maybe I’d have winked, but not Carol.)

I found Shors’ email address and asked if he’d share his letter. He kindly did. It’s a wonderful letter. I recommend you buy the second (paperback) edition of Beneath a Marble Sky and read it for yourself.

It was very personal, a letter only Shors could write. But it inspired me to write the following letter, which will appear in the second printing of To Love Mercy:

-0-0-0-

First novels usually are autobiographical. To Love Mercy is no different.

All but two of the principal characters are inspired by people in my growing-up. For some 50 years, my grandfather Nathan Joseph owned and operated a movie theater at 35^th and State that was much like the Calumet [the theater in To Love Mercy]. When I was 6 years old, my family brought in a housekeeper who resembled [the character] Dora Barfield, and her name was Dora too; she cared for me and my sister Judy pretty much full time until I was 10, and stayed in our lives until I was 15. [The character] Steve Feinberg’s father, mother and sister are rather like mine, and Steve himself is rather like the kid I used to be. Even the “man with the curly gray hair” [character] reminds me of someone I once knew. (But [the character] Sass has no counterpart in my life. He just appeared inside my head one day and started talking. And while the real-life Dora had a son named Joseph, I never met him or even saw his picture. [The character] Joseph, like [the character] Sass, also is a pure product of my imagination.)

The process of writing a novel is a mysterious one. Just to take one example, when I was writing the story that became the chapter “Dora on the Bus,” tears unaccountably began flowing down my cheeks. I wasn’t “crying”; I don’t even remember feeling sad; but I couldn’t stop the tears. I thought something was the matter with me. Then a few days later it happened again. This time I realized the tears were the outward sign that what I was writing had touched something deep inside me. I began hoping for more tears.

Readers often ask about experiences like these and I’m glad to share them. I care deeply about the themes of race and religion that underlie To Love Mercy. The writing process is one of endless fascination. And even though I left there decades ago, Chicago still sometimes seems more real to me than the Washington, D.C., area, where I now live.

So if you are in a book club that’s reading or considering To Love Mercy, please let me know. I’ll make myself available – via speakerphone, or even in person if feasible – to talk about these topics … or any other. If you are not in a book club but just want to chat, that’s good too. Just send me an e-mail at frank@tolovemercy.com.

It will be my chance to get to know you as you’ve gotten to know me.

Frank S. Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. To Love Mercy has just been named a runner-up for Best Novel of the Year in the annual DIY Book Festival judging [www.diyconvention.com]. And the novel also has just been nominated for inclusion on the Abraham Lincoln Young Readers 2008 reading list [http://islma.org/lincoln.htm]. Students at participating Illinois high schools must read at least four of the 22 books on the list during the school year. At the end of the year, the students vote for the best book. Deepest thanks to Jane Sharka, incoming president of the Illinois School Library Media Association and my host at Naperville Central last week, for making this nomination.

P.P.S. In addition to Naperville Central, last week I also visited my old high school in Park Forest IL, then called Rich Township, now renamed Rich East. I’m still processing this experience, but hope to write about it next time.

P.P.P.S. The second printing of To Love Mercy also will include a nifty two-page map of Chicago, highlighting the spots on the odyssey of Steve and Sass. It will be posted on our website at http://tolovemercy.com/to_love_mercy_excerpt.html

Davida Kristy was pissed.

She wasn’t buying my generally positive take on Barnes & Noble two weeks ago. I acknowledged the sad fact that B&N and other “big boxes” wiped out many independent bookstores, but that wasn’t enough for Davida. She was an investor — and fairly active participant — in a children’s bookstore in the San Fernando Valley. She watched over 20 years as the store struggled and, finally, died.

Predatory pricing and predatory purchasing killed that store, Davida says. The big boxes can buy books cheaper and sell them cheaper because they have huge volume, and they care only for the bottom line. They have no mercy, says Davida; they have no soul.

Now comes Ann Dorough, manager of the B&N in Rockville MD and my fellow member of the Friends of the Montgomery County Library board. Does B&N have a soul? Here’s Ann’s take.

“Whenever I feel tuckered out by work I try to remember my favorite B&N story, which you can feel free to pass along:

“Dow Mossman is an Iowa writer who essentially has a breakdown after publishing his 1972 masterpiece, ‘The Stones of Summer,’ an American coming-of-age novel (and no, not a cliche) that is richly expressed, hilarious, strange, and utterly obscure.

“Dow drops out of sight, becomes a welder, writes only poetry, despises publishers.

“Decades later, documentary filmmaker Mark Moskowitz, who had stashed Dow’s book away when it was first released, finally reads it and becomes obsessed with understanding why Dow never wrote again. He doggedly tracks down Dow and produces an award-winning documentary of his quest, entitled ‘Stone Reader.’

“Moskowitz knows Steve Riggio, CEO of B&N. Shows Riggio the documentary. Riggio falls in love with the book, is shocked it’s out of print, and he resurrects it by having Barnes & Noble Books republish it in 2003 and promote the living heck out of it for a YEAR.

“I hand-sold as many as I could after starting to read it (and boy, is it long, but worth it). I met Dow when we did his event at the Bethesda (MD) store a few years ago. Though he’s practically a hermit and HATES author events, he told me he did it solely in appreciation of Riggio resurrecting his book. The book is re-dedicated to Moskowitz and Riggio.

“Sometimes, the rich and powerful use their power and riches wisely. And that makes me happy.”

I’m not taking sides here. Independent bookstores keep folding; every week there’s news of more demises, and there’s little doubt that big-box competition is the main reason. It’s a sad situation. But in my experience, one big box is NOT like another. Maybe Ann’s story suggests why.

Frank Joseph
www.tolovemercy.com

P.S. NEW GIG! WVON, AM 1690 Chicago, the Cliff Kelley show, some time Friday afternoon. We’re still trying to firm up the time. It will be after 3:30 p.m. WVON came on air as “Voice Of the Negro” while I was in high school. It was started by the Chess brothers (Chess and Checker records) and has an illustrious history. Can’t wait for this one!

And …

· Thursday, Oct. 5, 7 p.m. Roden branch, Chicago Public Library, 6083 N. Northwest Hwy., Chicago

· Friday, Oct. 6, 11 a.m.-3 p.m., Rich East High School, Sauk Trail & Shabonna Drive, Park Forest IL

· Saturday, Oct. 7, 2 p.m., Barnes & Noble, 47 E. Chicago Ave., Naperville IL

· Sunday, Oct. 8, 1 p.m., Barnes & Noble, 13 W. Rand Rd., Arlington Heights IL

· Monday, Oct. 9, 9 a.m.-2:30 p.m., Naperville Central High School, next to the Naper Settlement, Naperville IL

· Tuesday, Oct. 10, 6:30 p.m., Read Between the Lynes, 129 Van Buren, Woodstock IL

PLUS … at 12:45 Pacific time on Tuesday, Oct. 10, tune in KRML, 1410 AM, in heavenly Carmel CA, and listen to my high school buddy Bill Roth’s radio show. If you do, you’ll hear me reading that Starbucks piece from a few weeks ago.