Fwd: EPISODE 730 I wrote a book! Would you read it? Dealt with machine design in 19th century, 1850-1891, (memorize sentence 8. OK?)
alan skeoch
Feb. 3, 2023
Pride! Arrogance! Both are a part of all of us. Best kept in check.
But who would know if the small candle is hidden under a bushel?
So let me get this bit of pride and arrogance off my chest and into
the digital world.
Around 1980 I applied for sabbatical leave from my job teaching history
at Parkdale Collegiate Institute. For decades we had been watching the
Ontario rural landscape changing as small 100 acre farms were disappearing
several of which were Skeoch farms in the vicinity of Fergus where our ancestors
arrived in 1846.
Wth the disappearance of these farms…hundreds of the them…the machines of
19th century agriculture were going to scrap yards across the province. Some of them
we rescued and trucked to our small farm, 25 acres, in Wellington County. Others
we bought and donated to various museums…Ontario Agricultural Museum, City of
Toronto Riverdale Farm, Doon Pioneer Village, and others.
There were precious few records of these machines. So I decided to apply for the MA
program at the University of Toronto and as accepted. This was not an easy decision as
we had already decided that raising children was best done by one parent staying in the
home. Other families made different decisions….or were forced to make different decisions.
Our decision meant that one salary would be ours and living could be tight. We could live with
that.
But to take a year off was another matter. I will forever be in debt to the Toronto Board of
Education which had instituted a sabbatical leave program for oddballs like me.. My salary
would be reduced to 80% and I would be committed to return to teaching in Toronto.
In other words we now had a green light to pursue our MA program. Our? Did I say
‘our’? Indeed I did. Marjorie was in full agreement.
So I joined three departments at the U. of T. The history graduate program under Dr.
J.M.S. Careless, (who only had one arm), The Fine Arts program under Dr. Webster,
and the School of Practical Science (S.P.S.) under several professors. The engineering
profs were so helpful . Three departments
was strange but my desire was strange. I hoped to consider the changes in agriculture
which swept through the 19 th century and resulted in the fact that we only needed 4 or 5
percent active farmers to feed 100% of our population.
The inventions of the 19th century were revolutionary. From sicles and cradle scythes to
hore drawn binders to early threshing machines and combine harvesters pulled by
steam and fossil fuelled tractors. No facet of agriculture was untouched by these changes.
IN the end I wrote a 300 page paper titled Technology and Change in 19th century agriculture
between 1850 and 1891. Research involved a couple of trips to the Ford Museum in Dearborn
(Detroit), the New York State Historical Society in Cooperstown, Black Creek Pioneer Village, and others.
What a grand time we had doing this book. Each machine had a history…a human history.
At the same time I was writing this thesis (If I can call it that) I got an extra job teaching at
the Faculty of Education, Type A students, helping them become teachers. That job was exciting.
I owe thanks to John Ricker, Dean of the faculty and Evan Cruickshank who had been my high
school history teacher at Humberside Collegiate and became head of history at the
Facultyof Education. When the year ended I was offered a job at the Faculty but I was
duty bound to return to teach at Parkdale Collegiate. Glad to do so. Loved teaching young
people and loved my fellow teachers at Parkdale. Absolutely no regrets.
Many of my friends and my brother took different tracks. I had one amusing job as a Vice Principal
at a summer program at Monarch Park Collegiate. Walter C., the principal, told me this was the
way to be upwardly mobile, To do so he gave me a yard stick and told me:
“Alan, I want you to stand outside the summer school and measure the length
of the girls dresses”
“What then?”
“If they are too short send them home to get changed.”
My immediate thought was “Are you kidding?” Walter was not kidding. I am proud to
say I never sent a girl home to change her shorts for a dress. I did stand out
In front of the school with the yard stick though. That was humiliation enough.
“Alan, I want you to check the boys’ washrooms”
“Why?”
“Just in case some wiseacre is smoking?
What if a smoker is in the toilet stall with the door closed?”
“Kick it open.”
That was a learning curve for me. Other principals were not as right wing as Walter. Many were terrific
people. Duncan Green, for instance, when I asked him about a newspaper interview regarding history
teaching in secondary schools. “What should I say?”
“Say what you believe…and say it in as few words as possible.”
Which takes me back to the 300 page book I wrote on my wonderful sabbatical.
I can still see the face of Dr. Carelss when I handed him my bound copy of the book.
I knew at that moment he was unlikely to read the whole thing. He would not have time.
What would I do if some kid handed me a 300 page essay? Point made.
There were so many funny things that happened on that sabbatical. And some challenges.
The big challenge was the French compulsory requirement. Each grad student was expected to
be fluent in a second language. Holy Samoley! So at the same time I was doing all this research
in three departments I had to be studying French to see if I could pass the compulsory language
rule.
I wrote the French test twice. Failed the first time and got zero. Zero! Zero was a mid mark between
+7 and -7. I don’t know how this was arrived at. But I would have to get a +2 or +3 to get my MA.
So I rewrote the test again one spring day along with a bunch of other grad students who accepted me
as a peer even though there was a gap in our ages…a big gap.
One of the most flattering things happened in that second attempt at French.
“Al, you are number 8, remember that”, said one my fellow students. I did not know
what the designation 8 meant until we all went for a beer after the test. The organizer had
a pen and paper to record each sentence in the test. We were not expected to pass the test.
We were expected to memorize a sentence each. Sentences translated would be provided
for the next test. We were expected to cheat. (Not sure the same test would be presented)
What a great feeling i had that day. My fellow students accepted me. I was one of them.
Even though I let them down with sentence number 8.
Walter C., my former principal would expect me to see him right away to report the cheating.
Are you kidding? That’s a laugh. I do not rat on friends.
I passed the second test…got a +2 I think. None of my friends did that I know about. How could
they? French was no longer compulsory in high school. Those kids did not have snowballs chance
in hell to get their MA as long as the French requirement was in place.
The requirement was quietly dropped a year of so later I was told. I was still basking in the
reflected glory of being Number 8. Immediately sent a note of thanks to Maida Schroeder,
my high school French teacher who kept me in the front seat and during the final exam
slipped me a cartoon that said it takes skill to invent words that do not exist. She knew.
My friends at Parkdale held a party for me when I got the zero. It was good party complete with
a big poster and my mark emblazoned in red as I remember.
The thesis had an impact. Copies were made and are on file at the New Yorks State
Historical Museum, the Ontario Agricultural Museum, Black Creek Pioneer Village. Parts have
been quoted here and there.
I returned to Parkdale C.I. for the rest of my career. Never regretted one moment. Just loved
sharing history with younger generations.
The yardstick? The girls skirts and shorts? What a humbug. But I suppose standards have
to be set in life. We can’t have students coming to class nearly nude? That might be too distracting
for anyone wanting to do an MA program. Hard to memorize sentence 8 in that case.
Now here is a test.
If I handed you my thesis…all 300 pages nicely bound. Would you read it? AHAH! Thought so,
Would you read sentence 8 for the test? Now that’s more like it.
alan skeoch
Feb. 3, 2023
P>S> NICE things do happen in life. One of the nicest that year was when my Type A Class
at the Faculty of Education gave Marjorie and me a gift…an overnight stay at the Moffat Inn
at Niagara on the Lake. We went there the following winter with the kids. We had a fireplace
in the room That is how we celebrated my Master of Arts.
PPS And after it was all over a gang of my fellow teachers spent several memorable
weekends at the Henry Ford Museum in between the consumption of beer. Henry Ford
was an oddball collector of old machines. I think a copy of my thesis resides there although
I am not sure. I was asked by the Mellon bank to rebuild a McCormick 1831 reaper and
ship it to the Northern Ireland Pioneer Village. That was another result.
So there you have it. Pride and Arrogance.
alan
