I live for those who love me,
For those who know me true ,
For the Heaven that smiles above me,
And awaits my spirit too;
For the cause that lacks assistance,
For the wrongs that need resistance,
For the future in the distance,
And the good that I can do.

--George Linnaeus Banks, 1821-1881

There is often a story behind our experiences that makes sense only to us. For example, Banks’ poem appears in McGuffey’s 6th Reader, a text in wide use in middle America in the 19th and 20th centuries. William McGuffey was the educator who compiled that set of readers. He was the 4th president of Ohio University, the oldest university in the old Northwest Territory. My only connection with Banks and McGuffey rests in the improbable chance that I would be asked unexpectedly to recite from memory Banks’ poem as a third grader in a small southern Ohio elementary school. I was nervous and felt that I would be unable to complete the recitation. I stood up and faced my classmates with trepidation. But I could see by their faces that they were on my side. With that small motivation, Banks’ words flowed freely. I was astonished and likely so were many of them as well as my teacher. I made it through all five verses without a stammer. His words have stayed with me all my life. I would later graduate from Ohio University where McGuffey presided for four years. Some 70 years after reciting Banks’ moving poem in front of my classmates, I also wrote one with the same title in tribute to him. These interlocking bits of trivia may sound inconsequential, but they help me appreciate how we are all connected albeit in very small ways.

In retrospect it is somewhat poetic that a poor boy with roots in the poverty belt of southern Ohio would achieve a lofty degree from the only university in that locale, the only member of my family to walk across the graduation platform at any university campus, and to be “hooded” by the 18th president of Ohio University. They comprise minor events in the grand scheme of things, but nevertheless they are important to me. All the more so because my father’s early education was limited to attendance in a one-room schoolhouse within 20 miles of that campus. It constrained all the students in grades 1 through 8. And according to his tales, those days were limited to reading and absorbing the contents of McGuffey’s complete set of readers. He recited from them often until the day he died.

A reader of any age need look no further than Banks’ final verse to his stirring poem to find his or her reason for living. To me it surpasses in eloquence every sermon, every inaugural speech, and every urging ever uttered by anyone about why you and I are here. It lacks only a motivational springboard, a stunning imperative that moves heaven and earth and lifts you and me up to find our purpose. That motivation was planted at nearly the same time that Banks’ poem was published. Its author stood less than 100 miles from Athens in an even smaller Ohio village named Yellow Springs when he addressed his students.

Yellow Springs is a picturesque slice of Americana. Unless it is on your itinerary, you will drive past it and never know what you missed. It boasts 3,450 residents in the 2010 U.S. Census. It is also home to Antioch College, the perfect setting for those who are in search of a college education without all the hubbub of urban life. It is selective with an enrollment of 270 students. The average GPA of transfer students in 3.69. Still, this tranquil setting belies the magnitude of the words that students pass by every day. You are unlikely to find their equal at any location on this planet. The words were uttered in 1859 by its first President, Horace Mann.

Briefly, Horace Mann was a lawyer, legislator, and educator with a long and distinguished career. He could easily stand as a model for all three of those professions. But education was his first love. He was born into poverty.  Still, he fought his way out.  He also found the words to motivate the students under his tutelage with a daring imperative beyond its rhetorical eloquence. I will suggest that he and George Linnaeus Banks were connected in a telepathic bond the likes of which are unparalleled in their magnetic linkage.  They were meant for all who came into this world with little more than a love for words, who found solace in knowledge, and with a need for purpose so that we might put our limited talents to good use.  

Many thousands of individuals have left encouraging words for humanity to read, to digest, and to inspire them to action. I could never sort through them all and find a good list of the top 10 quotes. Many are beautiful, many are also magnificent, some are both beautiful and magnificent. Some dig deep into emotion and into the human psyche; others wed emotion and logic; while still others tap into the divine. Only one, however, links George Linnaeus Banks’ poem directly to heaven for those of us who need a launching pad here on Earth:

“Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.”

--Horace Mann, 1859