Godki Pewakunyu Hanaka (Nez Perce for God Be With You Till We Meet Again)
We don’t know who, how, or when, but we all have
opportunities to influence the lives of others. Sometimes we make an effort to
improve someone else’s life, but many times, we don’t know if some small act
could make a huge difference for someone. And we might never know.
That’s the case with a high school teacher of mine. I had Mr.
William Kness for journalism and creative writing my junior and senior years. I
have tried to contact him so I can tell him what he meant to me, but I can’t find
out if he is even alive. After all, that was more than 50 years ago.
Here is what I mean. He was reading a book about the
mistreatment of Indians in the 19th Century and told our
class about it. Living in Western Pennsylvania, I don’t think I even knew
Indians were still around. He loaned me the book, Bury My Heart at Wounded
Knee. (https://magazine.gwu.edu/legacy-bury-my-heart-wounded-knee) While I was reading it, the American Indian Movement occupied the
village of Wounded Knee on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. I
read up on the brutality of the FBI, the corruption in the Bureau
of Indian Affairs, and the discrimination of Native Americans on their own
lands deeded to them by international treaties for “as long as the sun shall
shine.”
I was in college then. When I got home from Idaho, I started
dating a girl I had missed while away, married her, and moved to Idaho five
years after that life-changing summer. I owed that wonderful summer, my move
across the country to Boise, and, quite possibly, the girl I married all to Mr.
Kness.
That teacher also told us about a journalism scholarship to
Point Park College in Pittsburgh that paid full tuition, room, board, and
books. I was able to meet with the head of the Journalism Department there. (He
went to the same small college and was a member of the same fraternity as my
dad and uncle.) He told me if I wanted the scholarship to write, write, write. So I got a job covering high school sports for our local paper, the Beaver County
Times, I entered and won high school writing contests, and ultimately I won that
state-wide college scholarship to Point Park. I owed it all to Mr. Kness,
telling us about the scholarship in my junior year. Until then, I never even heard
of Point Park College.
Two summers ago, my wife and I vacationed in South Dakota
with our two grown daughters, both born in Idaho. We made a slight detour to
stop at Wounded Knee. While there, I thanked God for bringing Bill Kness into
my life.
That teacher was in Beaver Falls High School to teach
English. He taught me a lot more than that. He taught me to understand what the
country did and does to native people, he taught me to stand behind whoever the
underdog is, he indirectly led me to the greatest summer of my life, he kind-of
brought my wife and me together, he enabled me to attend college for free, he
was responsible for me moving to Idaho and being able to camp in the mountains
there, and he made possible two visits to Wounded Knee.
This is a long post, but I wanted to tell this story as an
example of what you can mean to others without even being aware of the
difference you are making. Be ready to listen. Be ready to share your passions
in life. Be ready to go out of your way when someone needs you, even if they
don’t know they need you.
God bless you, Mr. Kness. I hope somehow you have an idea of
how you changed my life for the better.
