Page 2/The Battalion/Tuesday, October 28, 1986 Opinion Schools torn between religious favoritism, sterility The Pilgrims came to America because they were bored with Europe and wanted to get away from the hustle and bustle of 15th- century life. Religion, according to textbooks cur rently being opposed by fun damentalists in Alabama, had nothing to do with it. In the effort to purge the class room of religious favoritism, education has suffered from total theological abstinence. equally concerned with religious sterility in educa tion. Loren Steffy The battle over religion and education is rooted in fear. For one group, the fear is that different theological ideas will lead to damnation. For the other, the fear is that the slightest mention of reli gion, even in a historical context, will bring the temple of religious separation crashing down on our heads. Both fear the mention of different reli gions in classroom for different reasons. Both take their fears to an extreme. Such groups as the People for the American Way claim that making texts that cater to various religious beliefs violates separation of church and state. The PAW even has admitted that the texts are bad, but it defends inadequate books because it fears religious encroachment into schools. On the heels of the Alabama case comes another ruling granting fundamentalists in Tennessee the right to have their children sheltered from reading books they say conflict with their religious convic tions. For them, religion and education must be united. The fundamentalists, of course, put their argu ments in religious terms — the texts are saturated with “secular humanism.” In Tennessee, the court ruled in favor of parents, slamming shut the door to knowledge for the children. The parents are re lieved; the children are deprived. Among the books labeled unfit were “The Diary of Anne Frank” and L. Frank Baum’s “The Wizard of Oz.” Frank was a Jew and Baum a populist — neither were secular humanists. Both are wrong, and both are right — to some degree. We should worry about one or even several reli gions dominating the classroom. But we should be The fundamentalists found that Frank’s diary was objectionable because it tolerates all religions. If the fundamentalists are going to deem this material “unacceptable,” they also must find it dif ficult to read the teachings of another famous Jew who tolerated other religions — this one from Na zareth. “The Wizard of Oz,” they say, teaches children that such traits as courage, compassion and intelli gence are developed personally rather than granted by God, and it depicts witches as good. Baum wrote the story for his daughter, Doro thy, and in the introduction claims the story is pure fantasy. The group in Tennessee, however, doesn’t believe children should exercise their imagination. Vicki Frost, one of the parents lead ing the fight, was quoted as saying that children’s imagination needs to be bounded. Given this outlook, the attack of Baum’s work is understandable, but it shows a lack of examination of the work in question. As is frequently the case with blacklisted books, the protesters didn’t bother to scratch below the surface. The lion, scarecrow and tin woodsman didn’t “develop” their courage, intelligence and compassion on their own. They had these “God-given” traits all along and just didn’t realize it. By demanding their children be allowed to abstain from such reading, the fundamentalists have exercised their right to religious freedom. But they also are turning their children’s educa tion into an academic closet where the light of knowledge is so heavily filtered almost none gets through. Part of education is uncovering different ideas and deciding which ones to believe. Often such knowledge makes existing beliefs stronger. Some times it doesn’t. But if these ideas are never known the learning process becomes one-dimensional. Education lapses into indoctrination. But if these fundamentalists are threatening^ educational balance by trying to bring Christiaicj to the head of the class, groups such as the Pill are doing equal damage to educational integriiisf trying to make the instruction oblivious to tilt is of religion in history and contemporary socb \ . Students are getting the events, but nottheunfePs^/ lying beliefs and philosophies that caused them I To ignore these roles is to lock a child in the;.p g demic closet as tightly as the fundamentalists I want only one view to get through. We love our religious freedom, but, intheiiftpj [n()W t p of fairness, we also want to keep it separatefifT|9e har out public schools. We shouldn’t be afraidtoiteelongs to tion religion in the classroom — it plays an e ault tant role in our history. What we need tobev-l ^ r< *'‘ e * of is advocating one religious viewpoint AftenjBr" a1 , 1 ’ that’s why the Pilgrims came here in the first piil® ... Jitation Not explaining the role of religion in the.MAri hie, a chusetts colony makes it superficial and m tade. fast-f rate. Secular humanism and separation ofck 0 rtnm * 1 ip and state don’t enter into it. It’s just incotnt Fi an< ^ ’ . . • mrants. An!m' h I he Pilgrims were deeply religious Christiilonever q fleeing persecution. They worked hard, and ranch fran prayed hard. Through determination thevonjilehelie t out a foothold from which grew the UnitedfeH°^ e 8 e That's hisloiA. pine and simple. That wm.i 1115 !nou OSS bad, now was it? p e nath Loren Steffy is a Opinion Page editor for The Battalion. senior journalism major J T exas " Wm in 19f “When 1 ^ AAAR6DUIES hoMSfj F«r Fighting the wave of a silent invasion Hne ;nt me to idn’t mind tewarm wt After ser D .station |rce Base elationship leworkecf; 'aco Bell c las one of 1 Our roach problem is really getting out of hand. I found out late last night. Jeff L Brady Moving on to middle-age-crazy About midnight I went downstairs — barefooted, defenseless — one last time for a drink just before bed. I went into the kitchen. I should have known better. Kitchens were designed for cockroaches. The lights had been off for more than an hour downstairs. A creepy stil lness hung in the air. I knew they had invaded. Someone left a stale bag of Cheetos open near the toaster —- like bloody tuna in shark-infested waters. I heard the familiar rustlings of hard, slick, spiney legs scuttling across for mica. Flipping the lights on, I caught four of them hoisting a bowl of chicken salad over the counter’s edge and be hind our oven. I’m 40. It hap pened sometime in the wee hours of the night. Age should come at night, the sneak ing rat. So what is the first thing a per son should do when he or she reaches the mile stone of 40? Lewis Grizzard Take stock, I suppose. Forty begins life’s stretch run, and it is a good oppor tunity to look around and see where you stand. I still have my hair while a number of my friends are bald or are balding. There are a few gray strands atop my head, but not that many for a man who has lived through three marriages, two heart surgeries and one trip to Russia. Speaking of marriage, I often wonder if I ever will do it again. There are times I want to, but I’ve been advised against it. “Don’t get married again,” somebody warned me. “Just go out every three years and find a woman you don’t like and give her a house. It’s simpler that way.” I have a good dog and he loves me. He sleeps on the floor beside my bed, he growls at strangers and he doesn’t go to the bathroom in my house. What more can you ask of a dog? Mail Call Living Aggie Spirit EDITOR: I was walking with four friends from Skaggs Alpha-Beta to our residence halls, in the rain, with arms loaded. If anyone has ever made this perilous journey, they know of the complications involved. A kind-hearted lady pulled to the curb and offered us a ride. She didn’t know who we were or where we were going and she didn’t mind that we were wet. She simply wanted to help. Ruth Bostic didn’t have to stop and help us. We would have made it without her. But the fact remains, she did. She displayed the Twelfth Man spirit — the willingness to help. So if you know her, give her a hug and tell her how proud you are of her. If you don’t know her, try and meet her. She’s a true lady — a humanitarian living out the spirit of Aggieland. Rusty Fox ’90 Accompanied by four signatures Hurting the home team EDITOR: Why do we die-hard Aggie football fans insist on hurting our team? Why do we insist on doing yells while our offensive team is on the field? Why must the band play while the offense is trying to hear Kevin Murray? I think we should save our Aggie enthusiasm and voice it while the other team has the ball. There are plenty of opportunities to express our zeal for our outstanding offense, but let’s wait and use it to our advantage. Kelly Mooney ’90 Letters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length. The editorial staff reserves the right to edit letters for style and length, but will make every effort to maintain the author’s intent. Each letter must be signed and must include the classification, address and telephone number of the writer. I have good friends. They don’t seem that impressed when I appear on the Carson show. You need friends like that. They keep you from taking your self so seriously. My health, I suppose, is only so-so. I’ve had two heart surgeries, as result of the fact that 40 years ago I was born, through no fault of my own, with a leaky aortic valve. Modern medicine can now repair leaky valves, but just how long that re pair will last is questionable. A pig’s valve was implanted in me, and how many 35-year-old pigs do you know? If I live long enough, I likely will have to undergo a third heart surgery. I sup pose I could take it, but this whole affair really has been tough on the pig popula tion. I like my job. I always wanted to be a writer and now I am one, although I still dangle a participle every now and then. But I never was much of one for detail. I’ve had some great moments. There was the day I saw my first book in the window of a bookstore. There was a time I heard Willie Nelson live and in person in the backyard of the White House. And I was there when Georgia beat Notre Dame in the Sugar Bowl for the National Championship in 1980, and once I saw my name on the marquee of the only motel in Guymon, Okla. The bad times include the day my daddy died, getting left by a bus in a Chicago snowstorm, a case of salmonella food poisoning, missing a number of good women, having my stepfather make me eat my English peas and four- putting No. 13 at Augusta National af ter getting on the green in regulation. But I’ve seen California, New York City, Paris, Rome and the Kentucky Derby. I have shaken hands with two presidents, sung on stage with the Gat lin Brothers, drank bourbon with Bear Bryant, and once I kissed a sorority girl from an unnamed Southeastern Con ference school when I was much too old to be doing such a thing. Yeah, I did all that, and I’ve still got middle-age-crazy to look forward to. Wahoo. “Ah-ha!” I roared. They froze — antennae waving up and down, testing the air — startled by the light. And made their dash. They shot for the kitch en’s four corners, one in each direc tion. The salad bowl skidded across the counter and into the Mr. Coffee. I reacted quickly, slamming a bag of Oreos into the nearest corner of the counter. I squished one of them into oblivion and nailed a second against the refrigerator with a well-aimed banana. Ker splat. The other two slipped into cracks and were gone — into the bowels of inner- earth to eat, breed and plot future raids on the warm-blooded world above them. My heart pounding like a jackham mer, I stood there panting and came to the conclusion that ours is no ordinary roach problem. For ours are no ordi nary roaches. The Encyclopedia Britannica tells us there are more than 3,500 species in festing God’s green earth. Only a few, however, have become pests — nibbling Fig Newtons, lurking behind bath tow els, scuttling from shelf to shelf in dark ened pantries. The encyclopedia contin ues that the insect damages more than twice as much material than it consumes and emits a foul, disagreeable odol\ I’ll say. Apartment maintenance per sonnel have fumigated twice and our roaches are thriving. They LIVE for foul odors. 1 have a correction fortheenad dia, however. 'There are 3,561 spt ( )urs is a new breed. Coc kroaches are among thr primitive of living, winged hup- tually unchanged for more tta years. Why change? Why tamper wife fection? The cockroach is the k pest. They’re numerous. We havete found six frozen solid inourketn week. They check in andouto! Roach Motel like conventioneers j College Station Hilton. They’re quick. Flvswattersarek strategically throughout the apart: for easy access and we still slapeiw hie tops more than the roaches. They’re effective. Allabugk'i is whisk ac ross a loaf of breadoi. nished sandwich to render ilinni Yeeesh. Who wants to down aid with roach tracks all over it ; Ns Bucko. But now the problem hasjom of hand. Consider: • Anpi to enter the il late atnighitf a sledgehan: electric co»f and butane® lefifit in A “I Itsed to )the resta 5 miles aw bout a year n Ben \V1 loser to the After he 971, he b 74,[he be< nd had a h; lacoBells. In 1975, 1 >buy into t • Have' abandoned Tupperware and ft cast-iron containers for yourlfh odi • Do you find tiny poker dip empty liquor bottles outside Road tels after the insects have partd rowdy nights? • Are you missing any pets red Ones that might have made tad night snacks? That is, hamsters,irtj fish, kittens, german shepherds- Gertrud is cattle.... • Do your roommateskeepP finishing off half-empty boxesoij ute Rice, Sugar Flakes and Vaoi>] ers? Then, my friend, you, too,art| victimized. I say it’s time to take act# J arms, take cover and takeilto®| Drastic situations call for draSi swers. Enough is enough. Tonight I’m creeping do*- about 2 a.m. — barefooted,^ 1 the dark — shotgun in hand. Jeff L. Brady is a seniorjt j° r The Battalion (USPS 045 360) Member of Texas Press Association Southwest Journalism Conference The Battalion Editorial Board Cathie Anderson, Editor Kirsten Dietz, Managing Editor Loren Steffy, Opinion Page Editor Frank Smith, City Editor Sue Krenek, News Editor Ken Sury, Sports Editor Editorial Policy /'he Il.iti.ilnm is a non-profit, sclf-suppottinl^ J ated as a c ommunity service to Texas A&Mand tion. jJ Opinions expressed in The Battalion at ^ ,1 board or the author, and do not necessarily of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the Bd 11 ' i The Huttulion also serves as a laboratory in reporting, editing and photography clasiev ment of Journalism. .^L The Battalion is published Monday throng . | Texas A&M regular semesters, except forhoLd^ Mlfj Mail Rubscriptions arc $17.44 per semesttf-*? J year and $36 44 per full year. Advertising' quest. J Our address: The Battalion, 216 Red^‘ Texas A&M University, College Station,IX* ^ . v Second class postage paid at CollegeSialioo^^J POS TMASTER: .Send address changes to 7 Reed McDonald, Texas A&M University.^ 1 77843. Copyright 1986, Cowles Syndicate