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Morah Marian

         It was ironic that I got the sad news about the passing of Marian Cooper  (1929-2009), by E mail, because before there was E mail, or CDs or videos, or computers in every home, there was 'Morah' (Hebrew for 'teacher') Marian.

         Marian Cooper was the kindergarten teacher from the early days of South Peninsula Hebrew Day School (SPHDS) in Sunnyvale, Ca. and continued in that capacity for  more than 20 years. Many principals and teachers came and went, but Morah Marian kept going and going. If you attended SPHDS in the 70's or 80's, or even the early 90's, you probably sat on the tiny chairs in Morah Marian's kindergarten class.

          It's funny, but although my first grade Hebrew teacher at SPHDS was a close friend of our family, and my second grade Jewish studies teacher was my own mother, I still most vividly remember events from Morah Marian's kindergarten class. Robert Fulghum may have authored the book  All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, but Morah Marian lived it.

            Fulghum writes, "These are the things I learned (in Kindergarten). Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say you are sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are food for you. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw some and paint and sing and dance and play and work everyday. Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out in the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.”

            Sure, Morah Marian taught us all that, but there was more. There were the songs (in English and Hebrew), the stories, and the games (A tisket, a tasket- sort of a duck, duck, goose game- also we could never play 'Steal the Bacon' at SPHDS, so it had to be 'Steal the Kosher Salami'). We learned our ABCs and Aleph-Bet. We performed (Anyone remember singing '10 Little Indians' for the Thanksgiving assembly? Not very politically correct, but nobody used the term 'Native Americans' back in the 70's) and we had fun.

            Well, being left handed was no fun in kindergarten (they were never enough green lefty scissors to go around) and Morah Marian bothered my parents so much about my sloppy handwriting that she insisted I take clay home and practice clenching and unclenching my fists with it. That even prompted my mother to ensure that my younger sister and brother ended up in the other kindergarten class next door when their turn came. But maybe the fact that I love writing today is in part due to Morah Marian and her clay. Who knows?

            Oh, and I remember the birthday parties we had in Morah Marian's class. The birthday boy or girl would sit up on a chair and all the children sat Indian style (also not a PC term) on the floor.  "Who has a birthday wish for the birthday boy?" Morah Marian would ask. "You can wish anything in the world for them, but it has to be something that money can't buy." And then hands would shoot up and one by one wishes would be shouted out, 'I hope you have a good life!' 'I wish that you could go live in Israel.' And then one kid, usually Ivan Bergman, would call out, 'I wish that you get a Star Wars Luke Skywalker action figure for your birthday!' The entire class would burst out laughing as Morah Marian gently reminded him that it had to be something money couldn't buy.

            But she was always Morah Marian to us, even when we got older. I remember seeing her at a Bar Mitzvah of a friend when I was 14. I had grown taller than her, but just seeing her made me feel like little Jonathan in kindergarten.

            She was genuine and funny. One time after school, I must have been in  6th or 7th grade at SPHDS,  the kids in our carpool and I were waiting in our car for my mom to come back from the school office and Marian Cooper happened to be parked next to us. I was listening to the AM radio waiting for the sports report to come on and Morah Marian stuck her head into the open window as they were announcing the results from Bay Meadows racetrack.

            "Oh, horse racing is great, isn't it?" Morah Marian commented. "Sometimes they have such funny names for horses, you might even think it's a Jewish horse. And heeeere comes Sholem Aleichem down the track…" she mimed riding a horse like a jockey. We cracked up. Morah Marian was a riot.

            Having taught two generations of kindergarteners, Morah Marian was much loved. They delightedly brought to her their stories of growing up through their life stages and introduced to her their spouses and children.

            She leaves behind her loving husband Henry, daughter Sharon with husband Robert, son Daniel with wife Christina, brother Fred with wife Pearl, as well as many loving family members and friends with cherished memories of her. She will be sorely missed by those who know and love her.

            But the one lasting image of Morah Marian I have is that of the Friday morning 'Shabbat Parties'. After the Kedem grape juice and Weidermeyer challah had been passed out and eaten, we all sat on the carpet as Morah Marian told all the kindergarteners a story.

She held two Styrofoam cups, one on each index finger, and one was the good angel and one was the bad angel. Only years later did I realize that the stories she told originated in Jewish tradition.

            The good and bad angels figure in several rabbinic legends. The Talmud tells how they visit Jewish homes on Friday night. If they find the household at peace and everything prepared for Shabbat, then the good angel blesses the family with the assurance that subsequent Sabbaths will be as delightful, while the bad angel reluctantly adds his "amen." But if the home is found to be in confusion and disarray, it is the bad angel's turn to wish upon the unfortunate family more unpleasant Sabbaths in the future--to which the good angel must add his unwilling assent.

            Somehow, I imagine that Morah Marian is in the World to Come, and all are sitting on the floor, Indian Style. She has her two Styrofoam cups, and she is telling them the story of the good angel and the bad angel.

Now that's an image that money can't buy.

  

 

The Celebration of Marian's Life will take place on Monday  January 11, 2010 at the JCC in Palo Alto, a lecture at 3 PM and a gathering at which we will invite all to describe their best memories of Marian and then a potluck dinner.

 

Marian Cooper (far left) with her SPHDS Kindergarteners (1994)

About the Author

The writer attended SPHDS from pre-school to 7th grade. He now lives in Israel and has an MA in Creative Writing from Bar-Ilan University.

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This entry was posted on Sunday, February 17th, 2008 at 2:10 pm and is filed under Party Supplies. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.