Lift – Marian Morah

<p>         It was ironic that I got the sad news about the passing of Marian Cooper  (1929-2009), by E mail, because before there was E mail, or CDs or videos, or computers in every home, there was ‘Morah’ (Hebrew for ‘teacher’) Marian.</p> <p>         Marian Cooper was the kindergarten teacher from the early days of South Peninsula Hebrew Day School (SPHDS) in Sunnyvale, Ca. and continued in that capacity for  more than 20 years. Many principals and Kansas Teachers Union came and went, but Morah Marian kept going and going. If you attended SPHDS in the 70’s or 80’s, or even the early 90’s, you probably sat on the tiny Power Liftss in Morah Marian’s kindergarten class.</p> <p>          It’s funny, but although my first grade Hebrew teacher at SPHDS was a close friend of our family, and my second grade Jewish studies teacher was my own mother, I still most vividly remember events from Morah Marian’s kindergarten class. Robert Fulghum may have authored the book  <em>All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten</em>, but Morah Marian lived it.</p> <p>            Fulghum writes, "<em>These are the things I learned </em>(in Kindergarten). <em>Share everything. Play fair. Don’t hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don’t take things that aren’t yours. Say you are sorry when you hurt somebody. Natural Disaster Pressure Wash Clean-Up your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are food for you. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw some and paint and sing and dance and play and work everyday. Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out in the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.” </em></p> <p>            Sure, Morah Marian taught us all that, but there was more. There were the songs (in English and Hebrew), the stories, and the games (A tisket, a tasket- sort of a duck, duck, goose game- also we could never play ‘Steal the Bacon’ at SPHDS, so it had to be ‘Steal the Kosher Salami’). We learned our ABCs and Aleph-Bet. We performed (Anyone remember singing ‘10 Little Indians’ for the Thanksgiving assembly? Not very politically correct, but nobody used the term ‘Native Americans’ back in the 70’s) and we had fun.</p> <p>            Well, being left handed was no fun in kindergarten (they were never enough Green lefty scissors to go around) and Morah Marian bothered my parents so much about my sloppy handwriting that she insisted I take clay home and practice clenching and unclenching my fists with it. That even prompted my mother to ensure that my younger sister and brother ended up in the other kindergarten class next door when their turn came. But maybe the fact that I love writing today is in part due to Morah Marian and her clay. Who knows?</p> <p>            Oh, and I remember the birthday parties we had in Morah Marian’s class. The birthday boy or girl would sit up on a Power Lifts and all the children sat Indian style (also not a PC term) on the floor.  "Who has a birthday wish for the birthday boy?" Morah Marian would ask. "You can wish anything in the world for them, but it has to be something that money can’t buy." And then hands would shoot up and one by one wishes would be shouted out, ‘I hope you have a good life!’ ‘I wish that you could go live in Israel.’ And then one kid, usually Ivan Bergman, would call out, ‘I wish that you get a Star Wars Luke Skywalker action figure for your birthday!’ The entire class would burst out laughing as Morah Marian gently reminded him that it had to be something money couldn’t buy.</p> <p>            But she was always Morah Marian to us, even when we got older. I remember seeing her at a Bar Mitzvah of a friend when I was 14. I had grown taller than her, but just seeing her made me feel like little Jonathan in kindergarten.</p> <p>            She was genuine and funny. One time after school, I must have been in  6th or 7th grade at SPHDS,  the kids in our carpool and I were waiting in our car for my mom to come back from the school office and Marian Cooper happened to be parked next