At Molalla High, everybody calls the skinny man with the tie-dye shirt and red heart-patterned scarf Mr. Z. He's also known as Joe Zenisek, science teacher, yearbook adviser and the guy who started Share the Love 10 years ago. Before he came to Molalla, Mr. Z. volunteered with the Peace Corps in the Philippines and married a woman there. Then, in 2001, he was asked to raise money to ship medical supplies to the village. To get the money, Mr. Z. "shook down" students during lunch, persuading them to dump pocket change into a glass jar. After a month, he had $400. "After that first year, a light bulb went off," Mr. Z says. "I thought this could be a good thing because it brought joy to the kids and it brought goodness into the world." The second year, in 2002, he persuaded the shop teacher to shave his legs if the students met a higher $500 goal. As the fundraiser grew to include more activities, administrators -- who saw how the effort brought the school together -- got involved. In the years since, teachers have dyed their hair, taught on roller skates, shaved beards, wore women's clothing, kissed a pig. The principal and assistant performed a routine choreographed by the school's dance team to a song by the band RightSaidFred.
Philippines RPCV Joe Zenisek started Share the Love 10 years ago
To share the love, Molalla teens face a hard choice
By Larry Bingham, The Oregonian
February 28, 2010, 8:20PM
Caption: The leadership class at Molalla High School plays rock-paper-scissors to determine who gets to organize a sexy legs competition and who a benefit dinner. Photo: Jamie Francis/The Oregonian
When the time came to read the letters aloud, Sarah Gorbett moved to the front of the Molalla High School classroom feeling tense. The talking and laughing stopped. Other students set an early lunch of granola bars, sandwiches and sodas on their desks, and a few draped their arms across piles of book bags, textbooks and spiral notebooks. Every eye fell on Sarah.
What she was about to do would not be easy. She had no idea how hard until a few minutes before, when she skimmed the letters during her History of the World class. All were pleas for help. One was so wrenching it brought tears and she quit reading. The last thing she wanted to do was cry at school.
Sarah, a 17-year-old junior who was chair of the Share the Love selection committee, stood before a podium.
"My name is Jodi Stith. I am a first-grade teacher at Mulino Elementary. I have a wonderful student in my class named Ethan Lister. He is a loving, warm, sincere, and smart little 6-year-old. Ethan is also suffering from lymphoma."
By the time Sarah finished the next paragraphs, describing how the first-graders sat in a circle to talk about Ethan's cancer and how his hair would fall out, the high schoolers were hooked. A few wiped their eyes, a few sniffled.
"Ethan deserves to be a part of the Share the Love fundraiser," Sarah continued reading. "He should be playing with other kids, at school every day, sharing the joys of life as a kid, which is 'no worries.' Instead, Ethan is fighting with his body every day. He is a young boy asking for one thing ... his health."
"Gosh," a teenager said. "That's got to be hard."
"He's only 6," said another.
The teens in this class of student government officers made notes after Sarah finished the letter. The notes were meant to help them decide who would get the thousands of dollars they planned to raise. The school had asked the community for nominations and received three. After Sarah finished reading the nominating letters on this day in early January, the teens would make one of the toughest decisions in their lives.
The choice would come down to three families in need. As much as the teens wanted to help them all, they hoped to donate a lot of money to one and make a big difference in someone's life.
Doing good, they would learn, can be hard.
***
At Molalla High, everybody calls the skinny man with the tie-dye shirt and red heart-patterned scarf Mr. Z. He's also known as Joe Zenisek, science teacher, yearbook adviser and the guy who started Share the Love 10 years ago.
Before he came to Molalla, Mr. Z. volunteered with the Peace Corps in the Philippines and married a woman there. Then, in 2001, he was asked to raise money to ship medical supplies to the village. To get the money, Mr. Z. "shook down" students during lunch, persuading them to dump pocket change into a glass jar. After a month, he had $400.
"After that first year, a light bulb went off," Mr. Z says. "I thought this could be a good thing because it brought joy to the kids and it brought goodness into the world." The second year, in 2002, he persuaded the shop teacher to shave his legs if the students met a higher $500 goal. As the fundraiser grew to include more activities, administrators -- who saw how the effort brought the school together -- got involved. In the years since, teachers have dyed their hair, taught on roller skates, shaved beards, wore women's clothing, kissed a pig. The principal and assistant performed a routine choreographed by the school's dance team to a song by the band RightSaidFred.
Mr. Z., who is studying "student empowerment" for his doctorate, believes the fundraiser builds community and teaches teens. "It reminds them that you are part of a larger world and you can make the world a better place, especially if you put your resources with the resources of others around you."
Mr. Z., though still involved in Share the Love, handed over the event to the school's leadership class in 2005 after it mushroomed to involve the rural Molalla community of 7,590 halfway between Portland and Salem. Under Jenny Brauckmiller's leadership class, it morphed even more into a student-driven effort. Last year, students raised $12,000 -- more than the $10,000 goal.
This year, students set a goal of $13,000. They aimed to raise it during the last three weeks of February. They would hold a dance, a bingo night, a bowling night, a dinner, an art auction, a karaoke night and scores of small events, some as silly as the chance to throw a pie in someone's face. When the teens broke into teams to organize events and could not decide who got the "sexy legs" contest and the Mr. Molalla High pageant, they settled it by playing rock-paper-scissors.
But first, they had to choose who got the money.
Sarah read from the second letter: "In September of 2008, my father was diagnosed with a glioblastoma brain tumor. This type is the fastest growing, and has positioned itself like finger-size branches growing out into his brain. They performed an immediate emergency surgery to remove the tumor. Following the surgery, they began chemotherapy and radiation. March 2009, the doctors said his cancer was gone ... within five months, the cancer was back and so the process began again."
No one in the classroom moved.
"I believe my father should be chosen as the Share the Love recipient because he (and my mom) are the most loving parents and grandparents I could have ever asked for. The treatment he is doing in Arizona has been proved to cure glioblastoma. If I do not raise the money, they will have to come back home and he would be out of options. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my letter."
***
Sarah braced herself. She was down to the last letter, the one that brought tears. It was about her best friend's mom.
"Sue Gibson has recently been diagnosed with cancer for the third time," Sarah read. "She was lucky enough to beat her first two battles with breast cancer, but this time she may not be so fortunate. During October 2009, Sue was told that she only had four to six months to live due to the cancer spreading through her brain, lungs, bones and abdomen."
Tears welled in Sarah's eyes. Her voice caught as she read the next few paragraphs, explaining how the family's children all went to Molalla High. Then she stopped. She handed the letter to Mrs. Brauckmiller and walked to her seat.
"Sue's battle with cancer has taken a toll," Mrs. Brauckmiller continued. "Besides creating obvious emotional hardships, it has drained finances. With the economy as it is, Mike's job as a self-employed mason and Sue's job as a very loved librarian at Molalla Elementary School, the joint income has not been enough to feed mouths and pay off years of medical bills. With Sue's latest diagnosis, going to work has not been an option. One could only imagine the expenses that would pile up with a family of eight and the added costs it takes to save a life."
Mrs. Brauckmiller looked at her students when she finished reading. They stared back with pained expressions. "These are all heartfelt and touching letters, tragic stories," she said. "What you guys do now is up to you. Mr. Z. and I trust you."
A boy raised his hand. "I'm not saying I'm giving points or anything, but the kid has his whole life in front of him."
Another student said, "What we need to think about is, can we save this little kid? I think we have a legitimate chance helping save this kid's life."
"The man has had a chance to live his life," said a boy across the room. "He's had a chance to have a family, raise kids."
"The same with Sue," a girl said.
"A lot of us have known the Gibsons for years," said another boy. "Some of us played football with Joe."
The high schoolers wondered aloud which families could get help from the community. The man has belonged to the Molalla Assembly of God for nearly 20 years, according to the letter. The Gibsons benefited from a breakfast held at the Grange Hall, someone added.
One student said his elementary school days were the best of his life. Another wondered aloud whether choosing the boy would be paying a kindness forward.
Finally, Sarah spoke. Her voice was thick, her eyes glistened. "I know if Sue were here she would want the 6-year-old boy to get it," Sarah said.
"I feel like the man would want the boy to get it, too," another teen said.
The clock ticked, the class was almost over. The time had come to take a vote.
Mrs. Brauckmiller collected the ballots and unfolded them one at a time. After she read aloud the name of the chosen, she laid each ballot on the podium until there were no more to read.
The vote was unanimous.
-- Larry Bingham
