Diluting the power of moment of silence
Like any large suburban high school, Neuqua Valley has had its moments of tragedy. Most recently, we've lost several members of our learning community including Roosevelt Jones, Dave Scheidecker and Tom Schlegel. On the days administration scheduled a moment of silence to honor the memory of their lives and others, students and staff appreciated the opportunity for silent reflection. These moments were embedded with meaning for our students so the question of compliance was moot.
On Sept. 11, 2002, the Neuqua Valley administration and staff planned a silent assembly to honor the memory of those killed during 9/11. Approximately 3,000 staff and students silently assembled around the flagpole for a flag raising ceremony. A lone trumpet sounded taps from our bell tower, and the band played our national anthem. Without a word, all of us stood silently before the flag for several minutes before returning noiselessly to class. This was, without a doubt, the most powerful display of honor and respect I have ever witnessed.
Mandating a daily moment of silence will diminish the power of authentic moments of respectful silence like the ones I've experienced at Neuqua Valley High School. Turning a moment of silence into a daily occurrence will surely devalue its meaning. Some students will refuse to comply and some teachers will ignore the chatter so that silence will become a relative, rather than absolute, descriptor.
There has been much written about the irony of our legislators spending so much time on this issue. Some might picture Rome burning with Nero fiddling away. I don't see it that way. I don't think the sponsors of this legislation spent any time at all on this subject. If our state legislature applied the same mandate to their workday that they've imposed on ours and paused for a moment of silent reflection, someone would have realized this was a really bad idea.
Charles Staley
teacher, Neuqua Valley
High School
Naperville