Guillermo I. Martinez. Published Friday, March 2, 2001, in
the Miami Herald
He expected us to become good citizens and to respect the rights of
others.
Despite almost 25 years as a teacher first and then as headmaster of the
best bilingual private school in pre-Castro's Cuba, James D. Baker never spoke
Spanish fluently. He didn't have an ear for the language. He had difficulty with
those harsh double Rs Cubans like to trill. It was not easy for him to deal with
Spanish-language syntax, either.
What Mr. Baker did have was a special skill in creating a learning
atmosphere where children from kindergarten through 12th grade never thought of
themselves as cubanos or americanos, as Catholics, Protestants or Jews. What he
had was a love of children, of their potential. He was an American, proud of his
heritage and strong in his beliefs and love of country. He also loved Cuba, with
all his heart.
To those of us who studied under him, we were all alike. We were students at
Ruston Academy, with a goal of going on to college in the United States or to
the university in Cuba. The school's credo was to teach us English and Spanish
equally well, with an emphasis on where we wanted to go and what we wanted to do
after high school.
The academic curriculum was tough, the standards high. Beyond that, Mr.
Baker expected us to become good citizens, to respect the rights of others, to
appreciate and understand the beauty of democracy, and to love Cuba and the
United States equally. He taught all of us that you didn't have to stop loving
one to care for the other.
Two flags were always present at school functions: the Cuban flag, next to
the American flag. We sang both anthems. We were taught to respect the history
and culture of both countries. There were few medals or prizes for achievements
at the school. The only award given was to the graduating senior who best
exemplified the spirit of democracy and love for things Cuban and American.
Mr. Baker's love for children and Cuba never wavered. When Castro's
revolution smothered the island, Mr. Baker was one of the key players in setting
up Operation Pedro Pan, a desperate move by Cuban parents to send their
unaccompanied children out of the island. He worked with Monsignor Bryan Walsh
in Miami, with U.S. Embassy officials in Cuba and with Cuban parents who could
not bear the thought of having their children indoctrinated in Marxist schools.
He did this quietly, without publicity. He was never one to seek the
limelight. His goal was someday to return to Cuba and re-open the doors to his
beloved Ruston Academy. He always wanted to continue teaching and to try again
to bring Cubans and Americans together under one roof with common goals and
aspirations.
So high were the standards at Ruston Academy that many graduates attended
Ivy League schools or top technical universities. Many students -- driven out of
Cuba by communism -- became important pillars of this community. Others are
scattered throughout the United States, Latin America and Europe. Florida
International University President Modesto Maidique is a Ruston Academy alumnus.
So are attorney George Harper, investment banker Fred Berens, community activist
Bernardo Benes and the Rev. William Skilton, Episcopal bishop of South Carolina.
There are others, many others. We all speak English and Spanish. We never
think of each other as Americans or Cubans, only as friends, as classmates who
shared a beautiful dream while we were growing up together.
Mr. Baker's name came to mind over lunch with a friend last week. The topic
was the strained relations between Cubans and non-Cubans in this community. I
wondered what Mr. Baker would have told me if I had asked him how to bridge the
gap that separates us. I can still hear the first words of his reply: "Now,
chico . . . ''
He would have reminded me that we are all alike despite our different
backgrounds; that it is not wrong to love two countries or to speak two or more
languages well; that we ought to be civil with each other, respect other ideas
and be tolerant; and that we work to break down the barriers that separate us
and build the bridges that can make this community stronger.
His advice would have been welcomed, as it is needed.
It won't be forthcoming. Mr. Baker died in Los Angeles over the weekend. He
was 94. On March 9, many of his students from around the United States will
travel to Daytona Beach to pay him our final respects. Our obligation to his
memory is to keep trying to bring us closer together here in exile -- or in
Cuba, one day.
Guillermo I. Martínez is a journalist in Miami.
Copyright 2001 Miami Herald | 