Opelika Observer Staff Editorial - 4/29: 'In-gathering' explores possibilities for Jeter community

Tuesday night’s “in-gathering” held by the Greater Peace Community Development Corporation brought forth many ideas and suggestions to help bring about possible improvements and revitalizations within the Jeter community.
While a number of great ideas were discussed at the meeting, we were most intrigued by one of the questions raised by the meeting’s moderator, Dr. Keenan Grenell: What could the phrase ‘Made in Jeter’ come to mean?
The question was not fully answered during the meeting, nor should it have been.
We don’t pretend to have a definitive answer ourselves, but Tuesday night’s discussions lead in a positive direction to developing a possible answer: the youth of the Jeter community.
The phrase “children are our greatest resource” is often thrown around in situations like this, and it is true, but children are a potential resource, not a guaranteed one.
If investments are not made in children during their development, if we do not take upon ourselves to provide opportunities and resources for those children to grow, thrive and survive, we turn a potential resource and source of renewal into a loss.
Education is the silver bullet for so many ills within our world. If children are allowed to fall through the cracks of the system, without guidance or involvement from parents and a supportive community, another generation could fall victim to the demons of apathy and anger and become a sad, unfulfilled promise.
The Jeter community is capable of producing greatness, beacons of hope whose light can shine not only on Opelika but on the rest of our state and nation.
Some of the meeting’s attendees gave us hope for that.
Citizens like Mario Mitchell and Sheena Bell, people born and raised in the Jeter community, can provide a positive message of hope and progress to young people in that community, showing them that they can do anything they can set their minds to as long as they are willing to work hard and pay attention.
Attendees like Deacon Norman Slaughter, a stalwart member of the community, can and do provide the voices of history and experience that must be imparted to our youth so that the lessons of the past will never be forgotten.
The community can and must come together to help with the raising and training of these young people. Families must help families; neighbors should take notice of and care of neighbors.
The City must also step up and do its part as well.
Many questions and comments were raised about the closure and upkeep of several parks and basketball courts within the neighborhood, saying that neighborhood kids often don’t have places to go after school to have activities and games.
Every child should have a place within their neighborhood to go. We must have a level playing field, literally and figuratively, for all our children.
What is “Made in Jeter?”
People.
People who are willing to do what it takes to step up and improve their community.
People who believe in the promise of the future and are willing to invest their time, efforts and money to help make that future a reality.
People who understand that it takes a community to raise a child, that wisdom must be imparted from all in order for it to bring continued existence and worth.
Jeter makes people, great people, and it’s time the word got out.

The McCollumn - 4/29: There's more that unites us ...

“Why are there all these people in there dressed in costumes,” he asked, to no one in particular. “Haven’t seen anything like that here before. There’s a guy in there in a wig.”
I overheard these comments last Thursday night while standing on the balcony of the Irish Bred Pub, waiting for the performance to begin.
I almost didn’t want to intervene, allowing the patron to continue in his confusion, allowing him to work out on his own why various people had drifted into the bar wearing corsets, maid outfits and other sundry interesting costumes.
I would have been interested to hear what he would have come up with for an explanation.
I felt duty-bound to offer up the real explanation, but it turns out I didn’t have to do so.
“It’s for that Rocky Horror thing the University is doing,” some other patron interjected. “They dress up and sing songs to the movie. They’re doing some songs here tonight.”
All the assorted people in vicinity of the conversation nodded in agreement.
It’s not every week that one sees good ol’ boys in cowboy hats mingling with men dressed in wigs and corsets, but it did happen last week without any sort of bad fallout or negative words.
The actors performed their pre-chosen songs to boisterous applause and cheers, none more so than Opelikian Colin MacDougall’s turn as Dr. Frank N. Furter singing “Sweet Transvestite.”
The Rocky Horror Picture Show has been a mainstay of the Auburn University theatre department’s repertoire for a number of years, and I caught a few shows during my time there during my undergraduate career.
But, never in my living days would I have been able to imagine seeing such a performance in Opelika, albeit in a bar.
The “Rocky Horror Picture Show,” a somewhat sexually provocative musical, strongly features and highlights gay and transgender characters. This is not something one normally expects to see or hear about in small Southern towns in Alabama.
People clapped and swayed with the music, some even singing along with the actors. I was unaware so many people knew the words to “Sweet Transvestite.”
I was equal parts shocked and proud.
Tolerance and acceptance aren’t always things I expect from this town. I almost hate to say that, but it has been true in some cases.
I should know better.
More and more, we’re beginning to see that people, regardless of whatever other labels they choose to describe themselves, are just people.
There is more that unites us than divides us.
We all enjoy a laugh, a smile and, apparently, songs about transvestism.
I applaud the Irish Bred Pub for opening their doors to this unique performance and hope they’ll continue to support the arts in our community.
I also want to thank the University students for coming and putting on such a great show for us. It was a delight.
The show runs this week tonight and Saturday at 10 p.m. in the Telfair Peet theatre on Auburn’s campus. Tickets are $10 at the door.
Go and support this show, folks, if you can. I know 10 p.m. is a bit late for some of us, but I guarantee you will have an interesting, if not incredibly fun, time.
I’ll be there, and I hope to see you, too.

Southern Baptist celebrates Passover seder

This weekend, Henry Stern called and invited me to a small Passover seder at a friend’s house, just because he thought I might be interested in it.
I had never attended a Passover seder before, so I took him up on the offer, not sure what to expect.
Upon our arrival at Mike and Harriet Friedman’s home Monday evening, Mike took it upon himself to begin to explain the importance of Passover and some of the seder customs.
I was incredibly grateful for his commentary and insight. My knowledge of Passover was largely confined to what I’m able to remember from years of Sunday School and a few viewings of “The Ten Commandments” over the last decade.
My self-education had me ill-prepared.
“Passover is probably one of the most important Jewish holidays,” Mike said. “Even people who aren’t particularly observant in their faith will still celebrate Passover.”
He then added, with emphasis, “To give up Passover is to give up being Jewish.”
It was at that particular moment I realized I might be in over my head, a Southern Baptist attempting to observe and understand one of the fundamental Jewish holidays.
That worry was immediately shelved.
From the moment Harriet began to lead the seder, I had faith understanding and insight would come. After all, I had Mike sitting right next to me to explain anything I did have a question about. He was happy to oblige.
Our guiding text for the evening was the Haggadah, the writings that give the order of the Passover seder.
Harriet lead all 14 of us through the various parts of the Haggadah, taking time to explain why things were done, an important part of the traditions of the holiday.
From the first “Baruch atah Adonai,” I knew I was in for something profound and meaningful. There’s a weight to those words, to hearing Hebrew sung and pronounced in all its linguistic glory.
English translations were found within the Haggadah text, so I could follow along as the rituals and recitations continued.
It is through the rituals and the recitations the Jewish people can connect with both their faith and the generations who came before.
To be Jewish is not just a religious affiliation. Being Jewish carries with it a lineage.
For centuries, the Jewish people have been made to wander the earth, seeking refuge where they can find it, often dangerously in the presence of enemies who would later turn on them.
So many years of oppression and hardship could turn a people bitter, making them hate their fellow man and making them prone to seek vengeance.
Not the Jewish people.
Throughout the Haggadah, there are many references to a hope for peace for all mankind. While the suffering of the past is remembered, lest it be forgotten, the focus is largely put on thanking God for deliverance from those hardships.
There was no mention or emphasis on Moses, something that seems odd from the Passover stories I had remembered through church.
“We don’t focus on Moses,” Mike said. “Moses was just an instrument through which things were done.”
There were moments during the seder when the group was singing various blessings and phrases that certain odd feelings that came over me.
There are times when one can feel the presence of something greater, what I believe to be something spiritual, within a place.
It’s one of those times when you feel as though you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that there is a God and He watches over us.
During those moments throughout the seder, I repeatedly had that feeling. Those moments were short, but they made a lasting impact.
While the seder was a fun and festive gathering with wonderful food, great company and lively conversation, it will be those moments of transcendence that I’ll remember until the day I die.
I thank the Friedmans, Mr. Stern and everyone in attendance for allowing me the experience of sitting in on seder. It’s not every day a small-town Southern man gets to enjoy such events, and I’m appreciative for all of you giving me a glimpse into your faith.

The McCollumn - 4/22: Can I get a Miracle ... or a Vandella?

There are times in life when I genuinely feel my life would be a better place if I had a permanent backup band.
Growing up with Homer McCollum as a father and Tim Gore as a close family friend meant that oldies were destined to become a major part of my music repertoire. They were and always will be.
To me, the best groups of the ‘60s and ‘70s were the ones that eventually came to contain a clearly established lead vocalist and a backup group primarily composed of singers.
Diana Ross and the Supremes.
Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.
Martha Reeves and the Vandellas.
And, of course, the greatest of them all: Gladys Knight and the Pips.
“But, Cliff,” you say, “why do you want a backup group for everyday life? Why not just form a band?”
A band is nice, but I’d like the constant form of reassurance and love a backup group seems offer their leader with me 24/7.
At times when I need a point reiterated emphatically, my backup singers could swoop in and repeat the last few words of my statement, perhaps adding some form of affirmative after it. A simple “Yes” or “Uh huh” would suffice. I’m low-maintenance.
How could you hope to rebut a statement that is made and followed by a three-part harmony and interesting footwork from either a group of dudes in powder blue tuxes or three lovely ladies in short, sequined dresses? Answer: you can’t.
They could come in with unexpected harmonies, lending tone and mood to my statements and ravings.
They could even offer support in moments of extreme self-doubt or sadness.
In the Gladys Knight and the Pips song “I’ve Got to Use My Imagination,” Gladys tells us there’s “darkness all around [her], and it just won’t let [her] go” and that “emptiness has found [her], blocking out the sun.” She’s given up; she’s ready to quit.
Enter the Pips.
“You’re too strong not to keep on keepin’ on,” they counter, forcefully.
Gladys, her confidence rebounding with this show of support from her Pips, responds with a vocal, enthusiastic “Yes, I am!”
Yes, you are, indeed, Gladys. Through that, we learn we are all, in fact, too strong not to “keep on keepin’ on.”
Backup groups have a grand historical tradition. From the Greek choruses’ laments in Euripides’ works or bitter truths from Aristophanes’ plays to their modern musical incarnation, the concept of using a group of people to stake out or reemphasize an important point is bedrock.
A group speaking in unison makes us take pause, take notice and consider what we’re hearing.
Smokey knew it. Gladys knew it. And, now, we know it.
We just traded the masks and tunics of the Greeks for microphones and the ability to not clap on one and three we get from the Bluebelles or the Family Stone.
I don’t know when auditions will be, but I’ll keep you folks posted. The audition piece will be “Midnight Train to Georgia.” If they can handle being a Pip, they can handle anything.
Scour your Rolodexes and e-mail lists for out-of-work performers and musicians. Hopefully, they’re willing to work for chicken salad.
And, if you have a good group name picked out, shoot it my way. “Cliff and the Cliffettes” or “Cliff and the Muses” seem to be in front right now, but I’m not attached to either.
Keep on keepin’ on, dear readers. The Pips told you to.

Opelika Observer Staff Editorial - 4/15: Show good character, build a better Opelika

On the back page of this week’s issue, you’ll find a collection of essays from Opelika City School students defining what sportsmanship means to them.

We encourage you to read them, to see how Opelika’s young people define important virtues and traits being taught to them as a part of the school system’s character education program.

We’ve been running these essays for months. We’ll continue to run them as long as the school system keeps sending them to us because we think the program is beneficial and we believe you should know about it.

Character education is an important part of a complete education, especially now.

Kids today are bombarded with images of what not to do.

Drug-fueled celebrity meltdowns and the misbehavior of professional athletes are talked about on the evening news and endlessly on repeat on the 24-hour news networks.

“Reality” TV stars on channels like MTV extol the virtues of heavy drinking, partying and gratuitous allusions to risky sexual behaviors.

Violence and hate spew from music, video games and media.

Thank goodness our school system has thought to try to repair some of that damage by focusing on admirable virtues that should be emulated.

Last year’s character education program focused on traits and good behaviors embodied by notable Opelika citizens, both folks still here and former citizens who have left from here to be beacons in their new communities.

In those booklets, we found the story of Courtney Lockhart, an Opelika alumna whose sense of determination and motivation has taken her to Harvard Medical School.

A story on City Council President Pro Tem Patsy Jones teaches us about loyalty, the late Mike Spain embodies the spirit of cheerfulness and Col. Jim Voss, Opelika alum and astronaut, teaches our kids about determination.

We’re fortunate to have so many fine examples of virtue to draw from here, but we aren’t surprised by this.

Opelika is and has been a community built on character.

However, we must not become complacent and allow these few prominent citizens to have a monopoly on good character.

We must all strive to be good examples to all around us.

We must attempt to be better than we think ourselves capable, living our lives in a fashion that brings out the best in ourselves and each other.

If we want our kids to be able to continue to define these characteristics, we have to show them what these virtues mean by living them in our daily lives and dealings.

Leaving them to define their values from popular culture and the world around them could and probably will prove disastrous.

Schools, please continue this wonderful program. We hope it will continue to make a positive impact on the lives of Opelika’s children as well as adults.

Citizens, let’s do our part.

It doesn’t take much. Just act like somebody you’d like to know.

Treat others fairly and well.

Be honest and truthful.

Seems simple, doesn’t it? Let’s hope so.

The McCollumn - 4/15: 'That's what friends are for'

Whenever I have a bad week, I feel a natural urge to withdraw from the world, taking time to self-regulate whatever is bothering me and finding someway to move past it.
The last few days have certainly had the makings of a bad week, what with hard drive crashes on my beloved Mac and the loss of half my music catalogue from iTunes due to said crash.
Part of my bedroom ceiling fell in on Tuesday afternoon, covering my bedroom in insulation and stagnant water from a leaking AC pipe.
These are just the major problems; the minor ones aren’t worth mentioning.
As I dealt with all of this insanity, my natural impulse was to pull away and do my hermit thing for a while. It’s what I know; it’s comfortable.
But, I was unable to do that this week, and I’m glad I wasn’t.
I’ve had friends calling all week, filling up my social calender with brunches, impromptu dinners, cookouts and other sundry invitations.
I’ve been drifting from social circle to social circle, getting to visit with old friends and talk through things.
There’s been an enjoyable brunch with lively conversation and delectable food, including biscuits that may or may not be as good as my grandmother’s recipe (I adamantly refuse to admit).
There was a night where rooftops were climbed and stars were gazed upon as the winds blew wildly around us.
There were phone calls and texts of support, people in my life who instinctively know to call and check when they think I’m upset.
It’s the true friends who have that innate ability to sense probelms and respond immediately without being asked.
We may crave solitude and silence when troubles find us, but maybe we actually need to get out amongst our friends and family and find the love, support and kindness we actually need.
Self-reliance is nice, but we aren’t forced to be self-reliant.
As the great Neil Diamond said, “Now you got yourself two good hands. And when your brother is troubled, you got to reach out your one hand for him ‘cause that’s what it’s there for.
And when your heart is troubled, you got to reach out your other hand, reach it out to The Man up there ‘cause that’s what he’s there for.”
Hallelujah, Neil.
Reaching out the hand is easy to do when a friend is in need, but there may be a problem when it’s you who needs the hand.
We have to be willing to seek help and counsel when we need it.
We must realize going it alone is an option, but it probably isn’t the best option.
There are dozens of old adages and cliches I could bombard you here with about friendships and the support our friends provide, but I won’t make you suffer through that.
This week showed me I’m blessed to have a good number of people who reach out to me when I need it.
I’m thankful.
My hope for you, dear readers, is that you realize and appreciate the folks in your life who do the same for you.
They’re there.
Just seek them out.

The McCollumn - 4/8: "Support theatre, support these kids"

Last Friday, I had the pleasure and honor to once again take part in a stage production with the Opelika High School Theatre Society in a small walk cameo in their musical, “Sweeney Todd.”

I was in the OHTS during my time at Opelika, taking part in six productions of various genre and caliber.

I loved my time with the OHTS. It was a huge part of making me the well-rounded, slightly odd person I am today.

However, Friday night, I was able to look at the show and the theatre program from an outsider’s perspective.

I’m not high school Cliff any more. I’m an adult now, or so I keep telling myself.

The kids were all walking around with an air of nervous energy, fully trying to center themselves and pay attention to their cues and jobs as actors and technical crew.

I was wandering around trying not to get in the way, rather unsuccessfully, I might add.

We have a tendency to mythologize our own pasts, making memories and stories seem much more grandiose and interesting than they actually were.

While I remember my theatre days for the good times and great stories that came from them, I was blown away by the acting skills and talent levels seen in the kids in this production.

We weren’t as good as they were ... well, Patrick Winegar was, but I certainly wasn’t.

They have an air of professionalism and purpose guiding their actions and decisions. Back in my day, I was just there because it was fun and it was something to do.

Colin MacDougall, a dear old friend and fellow former actor, was also a guest actor Friday, making my journey through memory lane thankfully not be a solitary one.

We kept making comments about how we were feeling deja vu and reminisced about old war stories from our days.

We looked around at these kids and realized how old we’ve gotten. We may have only graduated in 2004, but those kids made us feel ancient.

While we were putting finishing touches on our costumes in the dressing room, some of the current crop of actors started chatting with us, asking us about things back when we were in theatre.

We talked about our favorite shows and casts, stories about famous directorial freakouts and the wonder that was Wally Moon.

I was surprised to notice that the kids were actually listening to what we had to say, nodding and grinning, even laughing in the appropriate places.

One of them, Jason Jones, even commented that he came and saw the production of “Fiddler on the Roof” the theatre society put on during our senior year.

“That’s one of the reasons why I did theatre,” Jones said. “I wanted to do what you guys did.”

I’m not normally left at a loss for words, but Jason’s floored me.

We may not have been great, but to a pre-teen kid, we were something to shoot for, people to be looked up to.

I’ve always maintained that people telling me things like that always terrifies me. I’ve never been one who’s wanted to be looked up to; if you’re looking up to me, you need to reprioritize your life and find better role models.

Bad as we may have been, though, a few people got something from it. We touched a few lives, made some folks smile or cry or feel some sort of emotion, a goal for all true artists.

We may not have been perfect, but, I suppose, we got the job done.

This current crop of kids, however - they’re the real deal, folks.

They’re committed, they’re hard-working and they’re trying to put on a show known for its difficult lyrics and music.

In an era of dwindling budgets and proration, programs like the theatre society will probably be first on the chopping block during budget talks.

Support these kids, readers. Go and see this show, even if musical theatre isn’t your thing.

It means the world to these students to be able to put shows like this.

I know it did for me, and I want these folks and the ones who come after them to get as good as what I got, if not better.