Thinking back to when I began counseling college and graduate students

This past weekend, I consulted with a family that asked about my background and how I became a college and graduate school counselor. It had been many years, since I went back to thinking about working in Graduate Admissions at Columbia.I learned how students were selected, and that being rejected did not mean that they were unqualified-just not right for the program. A short time later, opening my learning center, I received a call from Stanley Bosworth, the founder and Head of St. Ann's School in Brooklyn Heights. He asked if I would be willing to hire one of his students as a tutor. Ian was brilliant and stayed on for years. I kept in touch with Stanley through Ian and other students he recommended and was able to observe and learn how special his college prep program was. Ian left us when he graduated from St. Ann's attended MIT and later received a doctorate from University of California at San Diego. Other peer tutors followed, many of whom are friends on Facebook. Other schools sent students in need of a job including Carmine Farina the current Chancellor of Education in New York City whose daughter Marisa worked in as a peer tutor for years.It felt so good to give teens meaningful work. In my own background, my jobs were mostly horrible and exploited my time and talents. Everyone of the peer tutors has become an amazing adult productive adult...and I do what I did way back then to the best of my ability.

Red Lantern

Growing up, hours were spent listening to the radio. One the most memorable Saturday morning radio programs theme still haunts me. A fatherly fish named Red Lantern guided two children (who surely I identified as my brother David and me) deep into the Land of the Lost. Every show opened with the same line: “In that wonderful kingdom at the bottom of the sea” lost objects are stored beneath the waves. In the fathomless deep could be found precious objects waiting to be claimed by their child.

I remember going to sleep with the voice of the Red Lantern, most memorably played by the late Art Carney, soothing me deep to the land of dreams. At the bottom of my sea was a teddy bear I particularly loved and slept with every night until once, sick with a bug, I vomited all over it. I remember crying and crying when I could not find him again, and those dream times in the depth of the ocean helped make the loss more palatable. I seemed to know that love, although no longer tangible, could always be found in the heart.

Paying for College-Work can Work

How to pay for college, is on the mind of many families. My own experience, way back was the knowledge that any education I received would be paid for by work. Good fortunate, and being observed by experienced teachers allowed me to find jobs in my field from the second semester at community college. Small scholarships, were supplemented by full time jobs. At Teachers College - Columbia University​, I found a position through the employment center at Alfred Einstein Hospital which unbeknownst to me was affiliated with the Health and Hospital Workers Union, that contributed to my education. I graduated owing $13,000. Today, I am working with students who are doing the same, of course their college experience (fun) is measured differently. But life always has gives and takes, my Community college students often have 4 jobs.Here is a hint.. if this is your situation-make sure to find positions in your field or related to it. This means like me working in schools/hospitals, editing for a professor, restaurant work (hospitality major's), etc..This requires effort, and results in a strong resume and employment upon graduation. The adage Theory without Practice-world firm.

My mentor Professor Leslie R. Williams

Goodbye, Professor Leslie R. Williams Every so often, I receive an alumni newsletter from Columbia University Teachers College where I completed my doctorate. This month brought sad news: my department chair, dissertation advisor, mentor and friend — Dr. Leslie R. Williams — had died at the age of 63 from colon cancer.  Leslie was a remarkable woman; one who changed the course of my own life and many others as well. She saw potential, had the highest expectations and demanded rigor. Her will to provide the highest standards for every child was unshakable.  Leslie was devoted to advancing the importance of early childhood education in general and specifically multicultural education. The author of 15 books, many articles, even an encyclopedia, this woman was a tireless advocate for children.  Her influence extended well beyond these United States, especially with educators dedicated to establishing early childhood programs, including those for indigenous peoples. Coming from a large family of limited means, she financed her own education through scholarships and jobs. Dyslexic at a time when the term was primarily equated with a lack of intelligence provided an extra struggle. Defying these odds, she was accepted at St. Paul’s for advanced studies after high school followed by an undergraduate degree at Wellesley, master’s at Harvard and education doctorate at the Teachers College. An amazing education, indeed, and having achieved this pinnacle, she wholeheartedly believed others could as well. Leslie recognized every student deserved to be taught with the highest standards, and it was the job of the teacher to find out what strategies best-suited individual children.  My first choice for graduate school was the Bank Street College of Education with its outstanding programs and long history of excellence. Having earned honors in California with all the requisite experience and recommendations, I felt fairly confident I would be accepted.  Well, that was not the case, evidenced when the thin envelope arrived at my apartment. Needless to say, I was devastated.  Several weeks later, I received a call from graduate admissions at Bank Street. They were re-evaluating my application to see if a mistake was made in rejecting me. I inquired as to why I had been denied in the first place. ”From what we ascertain, you have been responsible for yourself since childhood. We do not know how you will be with a mentor or if you can work under someone successfully,” was the reply. I assured her I had had no difficulties working under people, especially when given respect. The committee again reviewed my application, but I was again rejected, much to the expressed sorrow of the woman who called me. Further demoralized, I was at a crossroads. In retrospect, the Bank Street rejection opened the door to another and more personally appropriate situation.  Depressed about my future after having worked so hard throughout my schooling as an adult learner, I was close to giving up. A friend suggested going up to Columbia. I was doubtful: how in the world would the most prestigious education school in the country even look at my application after the debacle at Bank Street? Nevertheless, I made an appointment where I first encountered Professor Leslie R. Williams, who then was fairly new to the department of curriculum and teaching. She was a formidable yet friendly presence, and her eyes spelled welcome.  She took me into her office, and we spoke for quite a while. I told her about my background, the tutoring program I started in San Francisco and my goals for children.  She shared her story of being dyslexic and working her way through Wellesley, Harvard and then Columbia University Teachers College.  At the end of the interview, she encouraged me to apply into the doctoral program rather then for a master’s degree. Leslie told me that from our interview she believed I could make a unique contribution to the lives of children.  That short visit changed the course of my life. I did complete the application and was one of the few students admitted to the doctoral program in curriculum and teaching that year.  This acceptance has led me to believe in the miraculous with my own students, knowing that, without exploration and even risk, you may never find that right school and the educators best suited to develop your particular talents. Leslie’s classes were difficult with voluminous materials to be mastered. She was distressed at educational trends that fostered so-called “dumbing down” or oversimplification of curriculum.  Rather then a degradation of intellectual standards, she taught us the converse: to prepare each and every student with the optimal education. Having Leslie R. Williams as a mentor left an indelible impression on my philosophy of education as well as my heart. It is her influence that makes me disheartened when potential teachers in my foundations classes reveal their most admired teacher was like a friend or used the word “crap” in class.  Such teachers make it more difficult for those with higher more professional standards on the part of instructors. Used to being spoon-fed diluted materials, students squirm and kvetch when higher standards are expected.  Several high school students recently complained to me about an English teacher who requested they call her Mrs. instead of by her first name. They were also frustrated that diagramming sentences was a requirement and essays had to follow the professional MLA format. Used to informality and the latitude of having been taught by “pal” teachers, this more rigorous instructor received a plethora of negative comments on the student-driven Web site — Rate My Teacher. Those instructors that dumb down the material often receive four stars, and the ultimate criteria for approval is the easy A for the course.  How sad this lax and demeaning attitude is! Instead of dumbing down the curriculum, why not try ratcheting it up? Yes, ratcheting up the curriculum is exactly what my highly rated professor would have agreed to. Well before No Child Left Behind, this was her philosophy. Sounds old-fashioned, I know, yet I believe Dr. Leslie R. Williams would concur that by raising educational standards, we raise potential and each student’s ability to achieve.

Dr. Mae Sakharov introduces associate James Warren

My practice as a college, grad school and career counselor began many years ago in New York City. Since then along with associates we have supported families across the globe in need of services.(www.maesakharov.com) I am happy to share information about one of my associates, James Warren, who works out of the Washington DC area.
James Warren brings together a love for helping people tell their stories with an extensive background in leadership and coaching to help individuals reach their fullest potential. He has successfully directed university recruiting efforts at the University of Virginia, the University of Richmond, and Virginia Commonwealth University, and for one of the nation’s largest CPG companies. Influenced by his experience in Columbia University’s Creative Writing Program, he has, for more than two decades, nurtured a personal passion for storytelling and leads the development of sharemorestories.comas its current CEO. (www.sharemorestories.com) Based on his significant experience in recruiting, training, leadership and organizational development, James helps high school students and young adults capture the attention of admissions officers and navigate their next steps to college and graduate school, and brings a unique perspective to help guide those he works with toward better career planning decisions. James completed his undergraduate work in Economics and Literature at Princeton University, graduate work in the Creative Writing Program at Columbia University, and Marketing at the University of Richmond. He is an advisor for the Enactus campus chapter at the University of Virginia’s McIntire School of Commerce and mentors middle school students through Richmond-based MEGA Mentors.

Why Write about the Weather?

The doors opened. in the back of a daycare center on Court Street in 1983-where I sat in a little desk awaiting my first clients. I was grateful to a former fellow doctoral student at Teachers College - Columbia University who let me share her space. Advertising, was doing door to door and writing letters on pasteboard that were placed in the shop window. Over fifteen years-that storefront was home and holds such special memories and love. One of my earliest collaborators was Maryanne Miceli since deceased-way too early. She was a special education teacher in Park Slope, Brooklyn and tutored students with reading and writing problems on the side. We wrote many proposals together, and often discussed teaching methods. This was the time that learning disabilities were barely acknowledged and special education classrooms were often dumping grounds for children will kinds of needs. Maryanne and I were both fortunate to have had prior experience with Orton-Gillingham methods-and had taught remedial writing. One of the tried and true topics of story starters was to write about the seasons, which I found impossibly dull. The reasons behind this choice were that seasons were neutral. Who wants neutral writing, I wondered? And from my own perspective this topic was meaningless. Fast forward over the decades and we find Common Application topics which can be interpreted with the same cliches as the story-starters of old. Maybe that is why these topics were picked-but since the change of options two years ago--so many personal statements that I see, need to be rewritten or cast aside. Summer is hot, winter cold, spring warm, fall, pretty---who cares? I miss giving students the chance to talk about a book, artist, piece of music, film that inspires them.. and yes topic of your choice...sigh excuse the diatribe..but having been deluged with essay's about seasons this is probably why although I love being in Talk Story the topic of Tales told in Winter brought back memories of correcting so many papers that said exactly the same thing.

copyrite JA

The Hidden Saints- Dr. Janusz Korczak

Sharing an article that I wrote years back for the Father's Heart Urban Prep School and later revisited in Princeton Packet Publications and Elephant Journal...for children --what a harsh week.http://www.maesakharov.com/articles-publicati…/hidden-saints

"Hidden Saints" antidote to world in chaos

The holidays are upon us when families and friends come together from far and wide to bask in the felicity of the season.

This year, however, some may find loved ones missing at the table; young men and women in the armed services will not be homebound. They are stationed in dangerous corners of the world, both prey and predator, combing ancient lands at a time of war.

Peace can seem as far off in the new millennium as during the '60s when young men and women fought in the marshes of Vietnam. I salute the sacrifices of these young people, and I hope their courage does not go unheeded. Keeping abreast of the daily escalating horrors is overwhelming.

My personal antidote, since childhood, when faced with a world in chaos, was to think about those individuals who were not afraid to keep their eyes on the power of love and peace, often at grave personal cost, even death: the hidden saints.

According to the Talmud, the hidden saints are responsible for the welfare of the universe. The righteous are just 36 in number and are amongst us in every generation. At times of danger, they use their hidden powers to defeat enemies, and as mysteriously as they appear, they fade into obscurity.

One of the righteous is Janusz Korczak (1876-1942), a doctor and child psychologist from Warsaw, Poland, whose story I would like to share. I first read about Dr. Korczak 20 years ago from an article in the New York Times.

The accompanying picture was of a girl was of a young, round-faced girl with a captivating expression. The article described the orphanage where she lived in Warsaw, named for Dr. Korczak, and described the theories of education Dr. Korczak had used with Jewish and Catholic orphans in the 1930s:

"He envisioned a world in which children structured their own world and became experts in their own matters."

Peer and staff review maintained order, not harsh discipline or adult supremacy. Every week, a children's court was scheduled to voice grievances, allow the accused to present evidence and mete out punishment, if necessary.

This reminded me of how Father Edward Flanagan disciplined his beloved urchins at Boys Town USA. I was intrigued by the piece and wanted to learn more about Dr. Korczak.

Those bygone days were before the Internet and immediate responses to questions. My search entailed calling the Midtown Manhattan Library, which undertook a search of the literature available on this man. The materials that turned up were written primarily in Hebrew and Polish, neither of which was known to me.

Finally, two small booklets, printed in Israel and written in English, came into my hands. His remarkable contributions to child welfare and sacrifice of this unique man rendered the search more than worthwhile.

Dr. Korczak was an exceptional human being and advocate for all children. He was an assimilated Polish Jew who had served in the Russian Army.

Born Henryk Goldszmit in Warsaw, Poland, in 1876, he coined the pen name of Janusz Korczak when, as a young man, he began publishing children's stories. He went on to become a medical doctor and educator and had a popular radio program in which he offered advice to parents on child rearing.

Eventually, he gave up his medical practice and served as director of the Polish and Jewish orphanages in Warsaw. Never materialistic and disdaining pomp and artifice, he chose to live in a small room at the Jewish orphanage.

Dr. Korczak was known throughout Europe for training teachers in moral education and humanizing orphanages. His theories of education were child-centered and stressed tolerance and patience.

Many visitors came to the orphanage where he resided to observe the famous Dr. Korczak and found it difficult to distinguish him from the domestic staff.

Children sensed Dr. Korczak loved them and wanted to please him. A shy and socially awkward man, he was most comfortable in their presence. The orphanage was a secure, safe and orderly place — the only home many of the children ever knew, and many remembered their time there as the happiest they ever knew.

Eventually, most of the staff was comprised of people who grew up at the orphanages.

When Poland was invaded in 1939, he had many opportunities to emigrate to freedom on a kibbutz in Israel, but it was not in his character to seek personal safety when others had no recourse. Dr. Korczak and devoted members of his staff stayed in Poland, knowing full well those who remained put their own lives in jeopardy.

Soon, thereafter, the orphanage was moved behind the wall of the Warsaw Ghetto.

Dr. Korczak became a master of the black market, securing foodstuffs and medications that were necessary to keep the children as healthy as possible. The staff tried to keep the ghetto orphanage organized and adhered to the same routine that existed on the outside with few exceptions.

The children began to perform in plays that were opened to the public. The material chosen often had an underlying message of courage and fortitude.

August 1942, after two years of near starvation, declining health standards and privation in the ghetto orphanage, the end came. The children were ordered to report to the train station at Umschlagplatz for relocation to the East.

The night before the children were to be led away, they put on a performance of a one-act play by Nobel Prize winner Rabindranath Tagore entitled, "The Post Office."

When Mahatma Gandhi saw this play in Calcutta in 1917, he wrote, "I did not have enough of it, but what I did have had a most soothing effect upon my nerves which are otherwise always on trial."

Irish poet W.B. Yates echoed these sentiments, noting, "On the stage, the little play shows it is very perfectly constructed and conveys to the right audience an emotion of gentleness and peace."

When Dr. Korczak was asked why he chose the "The Post Office," he answered "Eventually one had to learn serenely the angel of death."

The audience was riveted by the play. Amal, a gentle, imaginative boy who has been adopted by a poor couple, is confined to his room with a serious illness. Forbidden by the village doctor to go outside, he is shut in from the world of nature, like the orphans awaiting an uncertain future.

The children at the orphanage were aware of their real destination; news of the extermination of the Jews had flooded Warsaw. Dr. Korczak and his staff were prepared.

Bold and courageously, they led the "Army of Children" to overcrowded trains and certain death at Treblinka.

Jehoshua Perle later wrote an eyewitness account in his book, "The Destruction of the Warsaw Ghetto: "A miracle occurred, two hundred pure souls, condemned to death, did not weep. Not one of them ran away. None tried to hide. Like stricken swallows, they clung to their teacher and mentor, to their father and brother, Janusz Korczak."

The children wal

ked quietly to the station in clean and meticulously cared for clothes. German, Ukrainian, Polish and Jewish policeman fired upon their procession as they walked by them. Perle describes the last march of the orphans foreshadowed the destruction of the ghetto itself.

The memory of that sad day lives on memorialized. The Poles regard Dr. Korczak as a martyr, who, had he been born Catholic, would have been canonized a saint.

The Israelis revere Dr. Korczak as one of the "Thirty-Six Just Men" whose souls make possible the world's salvation.

And when the notorious Treblinka was transformed from a vast crematorium into a memorial rock garden with 17.000 thousand stones representing the millions of men, women and children that died there, there was only one that was given a personal inscription — "Janusz Korczak and the Children."

And so ends my story, and I go back to the news of bombings and death.