The Science of Wisdom

http://www.thesmartset.com/article/article06171002.aspx

-This book review blew me away... I want to read this book, certainly, but the review alone gets into some remarkable intellectual territory.

Teri Lindner was my brother's teacher. She did things for students with special needs that absolutely blew wide open the doors of possibility. She taught these young people how to stand up for themselves, to work hard and to work well, to live on their own, to further their educations, to plan trips, to raise money, to get jobs... remarkable!

Centre Daily Times article

Article Copy:

State High teacher turns dreams into reality

Local educator retiring after decades of making connections, pushing boundaries

Ed Mahon- emahon@centredaily.com

June 21, 2010 12:50pm EDT

Last year, Teri Lindner asked Bob Ehrmann to help lead a fundraiser with her Wild Dream Team.

CDT/Nabil K. Mark

Teri Lindner is retiring after working with the State College Area School Districts LifeLInk PSU program for the past 8 years and teaching for over 40 years. CDT/Nabil K. Mark

Ehrmann, a parent of one of her students, at first figured he didn’t have the time. But that’s not the answer he gave.

“It’s very hard to say no to Teri,” Ehrmann said with a laugh, adding, “You want to help her, because she’s so giving.”

And so in February, Ehrmann found himself co-chairing the Soup-er Bowl. And with that, he joined the ranks of Sen. Ted Kennedy, Paul Newman, the Walt Disney Co., and hundreds of special education students Lindner has taught during her more than 40-year career. When Lindner asked them for a favor — be it frequent flyer miles, an extra seat at an event, or to push themselves out of their comfort zone — they said yes.

“She is such a visionary, in terms of dreaming big dreams for her students and encouraging them,” said Ellen Campbell, whose son, Matthew, was taught by Lindner. “She really pushed him toward independence and us toward allowing him to be independent.”

Lindner retired from teaching last week, after more than 20 years with the State College Area School District. During that time, she’s had lunch with Newman, been honored as the Disney teacher of the year, and co-founded the LifeLink PSU program — a partnership between the school district and university that provides transition services to 18-to 21-year-old students with disabilities. She and her students call themselves the Wild Dream Team.

Students credit Lindner with helping them meet goals such as communicating clearly, finishing high school, landing jobs and living on their own. When it comes to personal goals, Lindner says she tries to be realistic.

But when it comes to trips, they aim above their reach. They’ve traveled to California, London, New York City. This year, students canceled their trip and instead donated $20,000 to Haiti for earthquake relief.

“When you set your goals high, sometimes you might not reach that goal,” said Lindner, “but because you’ve been working so hard, you’ll be reaching other goals along the way.”

Exceeding limitations

When Matthew Campbell was 4 years old, a pediatric neurologist told his parents their son would never be able to live on his own or work in the community.

Now 37, Matthew Campbell lives in a group home, does janitorial work at Grace Lutheran Church and washes uniforms for Penn State’s gymnastics and fencing teams.

“He exceeded all of the limitations that were placed on him. And it really is because of Teri,” said Ellen Campbell, who’s also a State College Area High School teacher.

The journey wasn’t always easy, though. Ellen Campbell said her son’s first out-of- town trip without her — to a dude ranch in Arizona — was difficult for her. She also had reservations about Matthew living on his own. Lindner helped with both.

“She always pushed me out of my comfort zone in an understanding, and good humored, and resolute way that was ultimately best for Matt,” said Campbell. “She gave me the poke, and the prod, and the encouragement — and then the faith.”

When a group home called the Campbells to tell them Matthew had been accepted, Ellen’s first call was to Lindner.

The Campbells’ story is a common one for Lindner’s students, who come to her with varying needs and abilities.

Jim Purdum said the program helped his daughter, 27-year-old Lena, come out of her shell. She came to the program struggling to communicate with others.

“Lena developed the confidence to express herself in group situations, and one on one, where she otherwise would have clammed up,” said Jim Purdum.

When Fallecia Ehrmann first came to the LifeLink PSU program last year, she would put her head down and cover her face with the hood of her sweatshirt.

“I used to be really shy,” said Ehrmann. “I was afraid in the beginning that they might judge me, but they were just like family.”

She completed the program earlier this month and now plans to study criminal justice at South Hills School of Business of Technology. She’s grateful to Lindner.

“She’s pretty much another mom to me,” said Ehrmann, 20. “I can always go to her.”

That’s a common sentiment among the students.

“She has a huge heart,” said 19-year-old Dani LaMar, who’s working on obtaining a child care certificate.

The same could be said for the rest of the Wild Dream Team.

Earlier this month, Phil Jones welcomed about 20 students and staff members to the House of Care on West Beaver Avenue in State College. They were there to present a $1,000 check to the nonprofit, which provides personal care for people with declining or compromised health.

They talked about what the House of Care does, the daily meal routines, and one of the residents who’s in her 90s and loves to dance.

Jones, the director of the House of Care, asked about the students’ trip to see the Haitian ambassador in Washington D.C., and Lindner encouraged all of her students to take a turn speaking. She told one shy student to pretend she wasn’t talking to a large crowd.

“Do you have something on your mind? Something you want to say?” Lindner told the student from the other side of the room. “All right, say it to me. ...Take your time.”

Then after the check signing and group picture, Jones thanked them all again.

“I’d love to give all of you a big hug,” said Jones. “Just tell me if you’re uncomfortable with that.”

The students laughed. That wouldn’t be a problem.

“We hug everyone,” LaMar said.

Pushing boundaries

Lindner grew up outside of Chicago and spent the first half of her career teaching across the U.S. and Europe: Illinois, North Carolina, Paris, London, Geneva and Washington, D.C.

She came to State College in 1989 as a special education teacher.

“At that point, we had some kids that hadn’t been out of Centre County,” said Sharon Pearson, a support teacher with the district. “And she said, ‘We need to get kids out of their comfort zone.’ ”

That first year, Lindner and the students went on a trip to Connecticut. The next year, the kids aimed bigger and said they wanted to go to Disney World. They sent letters to celebrities, asking them to donate frequent flyer miles. Only the late Sen. Ted Kennedy donated any. The students had more luck with businesses, and they managed to get tickets for the entire group.

A supporter, Dr. Leigh Wheeler, arranged a surprise for them. A banner, with the words “Wild Dream Team” written on it, greeted them at the airport.

The name stuck. In 1991, students entered a recipe contest sponsored by Paul New-man’s nonprofit company. They created a presentation that included not just the recipe, but documentation of the entire process — students shopping for ingredients, preparing the food and hosting taste-testings with teachers.

“We thought we might be eliminated for doing that,” said Lindner. “But that’s how we feel. We’re students. So we wanted to get across the feeling that you learn while you’re doing those things.”

They won the contest and $15,000, which they donated to the Easter Seals for a van. The prize also included lunch with the actor, known for his roles as Cool Hand Luke, Butch Cassidy and “Fast Eddie” Felson. The students sent Newman, who died in 2008, a letter asking him to bend the rules and let them bring more than a couple of people to the lunch. He agreed, and about 15 students and staff members ate with Newman at the Rainbow Room in New York City.

In 1993, the district set up two apartments that students could use as classrooms and spaces to practice making meals and staying away from home overnight. Staff and students worked together to develop the program, in keeping with Lindner’s philosophy. She considers herself more of an equal partner than a leader or facilitator.

“You discover things together,” she said. “And that’s different than always feeling like a facilitator. Because a facilitator connotes leadership, bring people along ... whereas we provide leadership together.”

Pearson saw the impact Lindner made during those early years of LifeLink.

“It was an exhilarating experience to just be part of the energy and excitement of the students, and to just watch the growth,” said Pearson, still a paraeducator with the program.

In 1999, Joan Andrews and her son, Jeremy, nominated Lindner for Disney “Outstanding Teacher of the Year.” There were 75,000 nominees, narrowed down to 39 honorees. Lindner received a phone call from a Disney official to tell her she was one of them.

“She was told, ‘Come on out to Hollywood for the big event. You can bring one family member with you,’ ” said Andrews. “She said, ‘Could I bring my class with me, too?’ That’s just the way she thinks.”

The Disney official agreed, although the students would be responsible for their flight and accommodations. Lindner wound up winning the contest, which included a $25,000 prize for herself and $10,000 for the district.

When invited to education conferences, Lindner often asks to bring her students.

“When the students present it, then you see the impact,” she said.

The students have also organized and hosted a conference, and the program’s served as a model for others nationally.

In 2002, the district and Penn State partnered to create LifeLink PSU, headquartered in the HUB-Robeson Center. State College students sit in on classes, attend club meetings, hold jobs on campus and attend athletic and social functions with Penn State mentors.

Alumni of the program can visit between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. weekdays or attend LifeLink Late Night on Wednesdays from 6:30 to 8 p.m. Both are ways for students to stay linked to the community.

Though Lindner’s retired, she’ll remain connected to her students. And one idea of how to do that came from a student who was stressed about graduating.

“I said, ‘Well, I’m graduating, too. What will we do?’ ” she said.

Their solution was the Dream Team Wild Adventures, which will be open to LifeLink PSU alumni and current members. They won’t fundraise for trips like the students in LifeLink PSU. They won’t meet weekly. But Lindner said if someone comes up with a fun activity or trip, he or she can bring the idea to the group, and they can all plan on saving up. Possibilities have already been popping into Lindner’s head.

“I can think of a million fun things,” she said.

Read more: http://www.centredaily.com/2010/06/21/2049127/teacher-turns-dreams-into-reality.html#ixzz0rVkrnw9g

We are Penn State, but Jim might be a little bit more Penn State than most...

One of my facebook friends is the "Penn State Nittany Lions." Today, Father's Day 2010, their newsfeed read: "Happy Father's Day to all of the Dads out there and an even bigger wish to those who are Penn State Proud!!"

Only one person had commented at that point, and I felt stirred to write a little something for my dad.

I wrote: "I was raised Penn State proud by my dad, Jim Campbell. He's a State College native who gave Penn State not only his loyalty, but his career years, too. My dad belongs to a rare breed of Nittany Lion, born and bred in the shadow of Mount Nittany. He traveled all over Pennsylvania spreading the gospel of a Penn State education, and all three of his kids either went there or work there. We are Penn State, and so are all of you."

I'm Penn State proud. I was raised to be this way because my father is about as loyal to Penn State as anyone I know.

He grew up in Lemont, a little neighborhood on the southeast side of State College. He played in the creek that ran through his backyard. He played Pony League baseball. He listened to Penn State games, Steelers games and Pirates games on his radio. He wrote poems and listened to rock and roll music. He sprained his wrists winning a schoolwide sprint competition (the other guy broke his wrists) that, for some unmitigated reason, took place with a finish line a scant ten feet away from the gym's concrete wall. He got a second-degree sunburn working the flower gardens on campus in the summers. He hauled furniture for the PSU Office of the Physical Plant. He washed dishes at the HUB, where he met my mom.

He got a full-time job working in Continuing Education for PSU after he finished his bachelor's degree. He'd be the first to admit (and he often does) that this job was quite a lucky break. At the time he started, CE was a relatively new field. Now called Outreach, it accounts for somewhere in the neighborhood of 50% of the University's tuition revenue. Basically, he got in the ground floor of an operation designed to bring even more career-making educational opportunity to people all over the state, the nation, and the world. He sold people on the possibility of achieving their dreams by making themselves better, smarter, more skilled people.

From the time we were very little, my brother and sister and I were given countless Penn State shirts and hats to wear. Many of these were freebies Dad picked up from summer camps, which he built to be a large-scale success at the Penn State Wilkes Barre branch campus in the Back Mountain, where we grew up. I was given books and articles about Joe Paterno to read from the time I was about six years old. Quotes of Paterno's became a cornerstone of my own sense of self, ideas rooted in hard work, humility, confidence, excellence and, as the letters ringing Beaver Stadium now say, success with honor, a will to do well but to do things rightly and without cutting corners or at another's expense.

Penn State (and my mom) more or less saved my dad. He could easily have been a sad statistic. His family fell apart in his early adolescence and he ended up in a foster home. This family that took him in, the Hostermans, set him on a path towards living the right kind of life, and education was a crucial facet of that experience. His older brother, Rob, found his way to Penn State in spite of the challenges of his family life, and Dad followed after to PSU. A troublemaker as a teen, he ended up majoring in Criminal Justice, but a stint on the road with the state troopers showed him just how much he didn't want to be a cop. All his part-time jobs with the University over the years parlayed into his lucky break in CE, which in turn led to thirty-plus years of service to Penn State.

He now gets to enjoy an even more lucky early retirement in his hometown, volunteering his time to help build homes for those in need and provide food for the hungry with organizations like Habitat for Humanity and the CROPWalk.

My dad always used to say to me, "I am so grateful that nothing I have to do in my job can really hurt anyone. Education is something that can only help people. I don't make Penn State better at the expense of others. I make Penn State better by helping other people get something valuable from their education. I'm so lucky I get to do this."

The Paterno ethic is strong in my father. He keeps his head down, works his hardest, tries his best to treat everyone fairly and kindly, deflects praise to his teammates, maintains a healthy self-deprecating sense of humor, and takes good care of his family. I never really thought of this before, but the Latin roots of Paterno lead back to the word for "father."

I sent my teen years and early twenties in State College, and I got not one but two degrees from Penn State, and I've been a "We Are!"-shouting Nittany Lion fan for basically my whole life, but I'll never be the Lion my own father is, and I'm okay with that. So much of what makes me a decent man comes from him, and I'm happy to keep striving towards that ideal for as long as I'm able.

That famous and simple chant of PSU fans where one half of the stadium yells "We Are!" and the other side shouts back "Penn State!" has always given me chills. There's something in the water here in Pennsylvania that makes this place unique and wonderful, warts and all. I love living here and I will always be a PA kid at heart, no matter where life takes me. "We are Penn State," to me, means more than just a school or a football team, it's an inclusive motto that says we're all Pennsylvanians together, all welcoming anyone else to be a part of things, all doing our best, all trying to be what God or the universe wants us to be. Win or lose, that sentiment is one I cherish.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you. Thank you for living your life the way you do and setting such a constant example of honorable excellence. Thank you, too, for introducing a starstruck five-year-old to the magical Greek-and-Romanesque theatricality of Beaver Stadium in the fall that rain- and mud-soaked Saturday in 1984 when Notre Dame came to town. Thank you for sharing that and other inspirations of yours (the power of words, the beauty of a forest or a beach, the wonder of family) and letting them inspire me, too.