REMEMBERING AN ICON OF HOPE IN NIAGARA, RALPH SERRAVALLE

THE CARING LEGACY OF RALPH IS TO HELP THOSE IN NEED, WRITES DAVID MOLE

There was a time, years ago, when my entire self was captivated by the spirit of ferocious optimism — seeing the best in us, communities, systems and yes, even our government.

That spirit of tomorrow's promise, that "all will be OK" and that "better days are near on the horizon," was instilled in me at a young age by family, faith and titans of hope like Denis Morris High School teacher Mr. Ralph Serravalle. Ralph, who passed away 20 years ago this May 31 and was an icon of optimism to all who were fortunate to sit in his classroom.

A satirical realist, he would provide us "extra marks" for every test if we simply wrote atop each page positive phrases like "today is the best day of my life" and "help those who most need it." These mantras of meaning were the real curriculum and life lessons still standing strong today.

Monday mornings often started with the lights off, our heads restfully down on our desk tops while Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb," "Wish You Were Here" or "Another Brick in the Wall" played in the background. Ralph taught us to not take ourselves too seriously, to always remember to laugh, and the golden rule anchored in compassion, love and charity — treat others as you would want to be treated.

Sitting here today, I can only smile and feel the tears in my eyes, thinking back to those days with Ralph and that very special formula of healing he presented to us

as adolescents heading fast and furious into the wild world.

In a seemingly embattled world today, many, myself included, have lost that unique navigational sense of optimism and the belief that no matter the pain, no matter the problem, no matter the pressure, there is a solution — there is a path to healing found in the arms of one another and our community.

Ralph ran a yearly program at Denis Morris called the Starvathon, which has lived on for more than four decades and is anchored in joyful justice to help those who need it most. Originally, students would spend 24 hours of fasting in the spirit of solidarity with those who were struggling with food insecurity or in need.

This was a place to see the healing formula in action, especially at that very special moment when Ralph would play his personally edited "slide show," always with a caring theme and a musical interlude.

Ralph's greatest gift to me was that of instilling the importance of social justice in your daily life and how important it is, for all of us, to question norms, to challenge not only our broader communities, systems, and government, but to also question ourselves in reflection and conversation so as to grow authentically.

In a world of constant noise, how apt that guidance was.

Working daily in crisis mental health and addiction, at a time of profound community crisis, I have come to appreciate the wisdom Ralph imparted. By so many metrics, life today has become truly overwhelming. Clearly manifest in the crises of our time — affordability, housing, addiction, mental illness, the great resignation, a growing inability to focus (surveillance capitalism) — in the middle many are daily having to make excruciatingly hard choices, sometimes between food and medicine, rent or clothing, just to survive.

This constellation of crises weighs heavily on many hearts, mine included, and has, at times, stolen from me that great overture of optimism I found years ago in Ralph's classroom. In remembering his life and legacy this week, I am restored by this formula of healing: that when we help others, in solidarity, compassion and love, we are in fact helping ourselves, as this is both at the heart of community and, I believe, one of our greatest purposes as humans.

Throughout these hard times, the healing work continues in uplifting ways — nurses, social workers, doctors, counsellors, pastors, volunteers, teachers, parents, caregivers, friends — showing up day in and day out, caring beyond the fog of leadership many might feel when seeing a staggering lack of adequate, co-ordinated and urgent response to these crises.

This is the caring legacy of Ralph Serravalle — to help those in need. I miss you, Ralph.

David Mole is a practising addiction counsellor and mental health outreach worker embedded within the Crisis Outreach and Support Team (COAST), and currently sits on the board of directors at Niagara Regional Housing. The opinions in this column are his own and do not necessarily reflect the positions, strategies or opinions of his employers. You can reach him at david@davidmole.ca.