Bobby’s “Bad Day”

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March 18,2021- So, we hear, from a law-enforcement professional, with his own set of race-related issues, that the killer of eight people in the Atlanta area was, among other things, having a “bad day”. We hear, from the accused, that it was not a racially-motivated act, but rather an attempt to deal with his own sex addiction.

Three things come to mind here. First, while three of the victims were not of Asian descent, six of them were. The owners of the two spas that were targeted, both of which engaged the accused as a customer, in prior visits, were of Asian descent. The two Caucasian victims were customers, happenstance victims-as was the Guatemalan man, who wasn’t even connected with the spa-he was a passerby, taking care of other business at a neighbouring shop. He is, at this writing, still alive. The primary targets, by all accounts at present, were people of Asian descent.

Second, when is it ever a workable strategy to deal with one’s own afflictions, real or imagined, by killing other people? We have dealt with this, on this blogsite, once before-after the Isla Vista attacks of 2014. Back then, an apologist for the accused killer tried to deflect blame by lashing out at me for defending the right of a woman to freely choose her own romantic partners. In hindsight, I had a fair amount of work to do, in cleaning up my own act-with regard to how I viewed women. That work has been done-yet it remains that my own travails had nothing to do with the actions of a madman. I have never killed, raped, attacked or manhandled anyone, much less regarded them as being responsible for my psychological well-being; end of digression. The accused, in the most recent case, is every bit responsible, in and of himself, for the mess in which he finds himself.

Finally, and this is the most potentially problematic matter- Asian women have long been hyped as being overly congenial, submissive and alluring. They are not any of those, taken as a group-any more than other people who have found themselves so hyped. Perhaps it is a necessary experience for people who stereotype others, to have to go through one painful learning curve after another-but this much is something I have always found true: Regardless of real or imagined characteristics attributed to people of a certain nation or ethnicity, not everyone fits a given mold. In fact, I have never met anyone whose personal qualities were the result of a socially-prescribed mould.

Bobby’s “bad day” was, in sum, a hoist of his own petard. Even IF one were to happen upon people engaged in acts of prostitution or other sexual conduct, it would not fall to him, or her, to act as judge, jury and executioner.

The Bridge Lady

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March 14, 2021- Throughout history, change for the better has been orchestrated by both people adopting a progressive stance and by those taking a prudent, conservative view, whilst remaining open to new ways of doing things.

Annie Dodge was born in 1910, to a traditional Navajo family. Her father, Chee Dodge, was the last man to hold the position of Chief of the Navajo Tribe. He became the first Chairman of the Navajo Tribe-first of the Navajo Business Council (1922-28) and later, of the Navajo Tribal Council (1942-46). Chee was a shrewd businessman, amassing a fair amount of wealth, whilst maintaining a strong sense of Navajo tradition. As such, he lived in a hogan-based camp and had three wives, the third of whom was Annie’s mother, Mary Begaye.

Annie, and her five siblings were raised in the traditional Dineh manner-learning to herd sheep, practice Dineh medicine and honour their maternal and paternal clan structures. At the same time, Chee saw to it that all of his children learned the ways of the wider world. Annie took a conservative view of politics, becoming a lifelong member of the Republican Party. The event that shaped the course of her life, however, was the Influenza Pandemic of 1918-19. Because of her having suffered a mild case of the disease, from which she developed immunity, Annie became interested in Public Health. She earned a doctorate in that discipline, and worked diligently to improve the lives of the Dineh people, over a span of fifty years. She served three terms on the Navajo Tribal Council, at one point running against, and defeating, George Wauneka, the man she married.

George and Annie remained a strong couple, regardless. Annie always regarded the men around her as her partners, never as her overlords. The strong Dineh matrilineal system helped in that regard, as did her parents’ commitment to their daughter’s education and well-being-and Mary’s fierce independence from her husband.

Annie’s greatest legacy was the improvement in the overall public health of the Navajo Nation. She broadcast a weekly radio program, in the Navajo language, carefully explaining modern medical practices and techniques to her fellow Dineh. She pushed for better well-woman and well-baby practices, regular ear and eye examinations; a strong campaign against tuberculosis and alcoholism; for vaccinations against polio, chicken pox, smallpox and measles/mumps/rubella, as well as improvements in sanitation and housing.

Annie continued her father’s work of bridging the gap between traditional Navajo life and the wider American society. She was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, by President Lyndon Johnson, in December, 1963, becoming the first Native American to receive this honour. In 1984, the Navajo Tribal Council designated Dr. Annie Dodge Wauneka “The Legendary Mother of the Navajo Nation”. Upon her death, in 1997, she was enshrined in the National Women’s Hall of Fame, in Seneca Falls, NY.

Annie Dodge Wauneka’s life work is a shining example that one can hold traditional, conservative views and make a strong contribution to the improvement of the surrounding community. The key is always keeping an open mind and heart.

Confirmation Bias

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March 13, 2021- During the McCarthy Hearings, in the 1950s, there was enormous pressure put on both investigators and witnesses to take any smidgen of evidence of Communist sympathy, on the part of suspects, and blow it up at least ten fold. Senator Joseph McCarthy had everything riding on conflating social Liberalism with Stalinism.

The term confirmation bias is used to describe a situation in which evidence that leads to a desired outcome is placed prominently in the investigator’s or prosecutor’s case file, while exculpatory evidence is filtered out and other evidence, contributing to a reasonable doubt, is overlooked. McCarthy and his associates reveled in confirmation bias, until it led them over the cliff of disrepute.

These days, I see confirmation bias used, with abandon, by several groups. Those on the Left go back in history, being willing to erase historical accounts which show any degree of complexity in the leaders of various historical periods. Those on the Right, conversely, reject any criticism of the same historical figures. The recent controversy over Theodore Seuss Geisel is certainly the latest such case, of both sides ignoring or discounting the very features of Dr. Seuss’s personality, which the man himself spent countless hours working to refine, to bring up to date with the times. A careful study of his work’s progress shows a fundamentally decent man moving on, from caricatures that clearly show a prejudiced bent to depictions of people that more accurately reflected changes in public opinion. Neither the Right, with its insistence that NOTHING he wrote was wrong, nor the Left, some of whom want a wholesale destruction of his catalog, are showing any degree of academic rigour in their posturing.

We are at the cusp of a public arena, in which stridency commands absolute fealty and careful discernment, in the course of assessing the march of history, is deemed a feckless approach. I will, however, maintain the latter course of action.

No one, save the Messengers of God, walks on water. No one, conversely, deserves to have even the smallest amount of merit discounted. Most of us are very much in the middle.

Sarah’s Solution

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March 11, 2021- In 1984, whilst in Guyana, I ran out of shampoo and went to the open air market in the small town of Bath. There, I purchased some Palmolive Shampoo, that had been made in Brazil. The product was much stronger than shampoos made in the United States, by the same company. My scalp was mildly burned.

This happened to me one time. I threw the shampoo in the trash, when I got back to the U.S. Until the 1910s, African-Americans had no recourse to hair care products that met their needs. The experience I had, once, was the lot of Black men, women and children-until Sarah Breedlove began her line of hair care and beauty products, marketed under the brand name Madam C.J. Walker’s . That name was taken, in honour of Sarah’s third husband, Charles Joseph Walker. It was the custom of many married women in that time to refer to themselves by their husband’s full name. Sarah divorced Charles in 1912, but kept his name until her death, in 1919. (Charles would outlive her by seven years.)

Sarah developed her line of Afrocentric beauty products, after suffering for several years with the use of products that led to severe dandruff and eczema-and eventually to hair loss. Experimenting, from the base line of products sold by one Annie Malone, Madam C.J. Walker became America’s first self-made female millionaire and brought attention to the skin and hair care needs of African-American women- bringing a host of products that moved beyond the folk remedies that had sustained people, both during and after the days of enslavement.

From this first line of such products, and from competitors such as Annie Malone and later, Sarah Spencer Washington, came a bona fide effort to teach African-American women the essentials of proper hair and skin care. This effort expanded, in the mid-Twentieth Century, to those Caribbean and Central American nations with significant Black communities. It has now gone worldwide.

Sarah Breedlove/Madam C.J. Walker brought grace and elegance to the lives of countless women whose needs had heretofore been ignored. She deserves a place of honour in this Women’s History Month.

Estrangers

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March 7, 2021- This morning, after ten years of my being a member, in good standing, of a veterans’ service organization, the matter of my Faith was raised-specifically that I am viewed by some, who I have known and with whom I’ve gotten along well for this past decade, as a “non-Christian”.

The context of this was with regard to a request that I serve again as the organization’s Chaplain, a post I held, with a good record of service and with no complaints registered, for two years, prior to embarking on several years of extensive travel. That latter stream of activity is set to resume in July of this year, and for that reason, I am declining the above request. An officer in a service organization needs to stay put-even in the days of Zoom and Microsoft Teams.

The larger issue here is that there is a shrinkage of the social circle of many people, partly a result of the political mayhem that has been afoot in this country, across the spectrum, for the past dozen years-if not longer, and partly because of a rising false narcissism, rooted in fear. Those I joined for breakfast, nearly each Sunday that I was in town, for the past ten years, have taken to talking only among themselves and shoving everyone else, including yours truly, to the sidelines. A culture of estrangement has taken root, which can only be detrimental to those who profess belief in the Paragon of Love. That embracing of parochialism has, from what I’ve seen in the past, only led to bitterness.

I cannot, and will not, turn aside from my Heavenly Father, in the name of a label. I cannot, and will not, let “estrangers” define who I am. So, with all prayer and loving regard for the members of said service organization, it’s time to move on.

Much Obliged?

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March 6, 2021- This morning, one of my dearest friends invited me to a small gathering, set for tomorrow afternoon, with the caveat that I should not feel an obligation to attend. I am delighted to receive the invitation, and the last thing I think is that it is an imperative.

This set me to thinking: How many actual things in life are an obligation? There are relatively few, and virtually all are role-dependent. Many of us have heard it said, “The only things sure in this life are death and taxes.” For some, only the first is regarded as certain.

The word obligation often brings the image of something one does only while kicking and screaming. I will have to say this, with regard to my own life, at present: I do what I do, only out of love-Love of God. If one loves God, then one loves His creatures. So, as a parent-I take whatever time my son, and by extension my daughter-in-law (and in the future, their children) ask of me. As a citizen, I obey the laws of any community, state(province) or nation in which I find myself. As a member of any group, I contribute to the ideas, needs and agendas of the gathering-whether it is family, Faith-based, civic or charitable.

All of what I am presently doing is something of my choice. So, there is only one “obligation”, if you will. That is to keep my word. That said, I am going to bring this post to a close, as I have promised another friend that I will visit her shop, for a special event. It will also be a delightful time.

Women’s Inventiveness

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March 2, 2021- Mother always chortled at the notion that women were anything less than inventive. She essentially told us, “Anyone who thinks, for a minute, that a person can raise children without being the paragon of inventiveness, is nuts.

March is Women’s History Month, so I’d like to note the hugeness of this topic underscores the fact that men, by themselves, can only do a percentage of what needs doing, in moving the human race forward. Here are the stories of two women who invented objects that are today seen as ordinary, but which made a huge difference in everyone’s life.

Margaret E. Knight (1838-1914) was the inventor of the machine that produced the flat-bottomed paper bag, of lid-removing pliers, of a safety device for mechanical looms, of a numbering machine, of a window frame and sash, and of several devices related to the operation of rotary engines. Ms. Knight never married, regarding her inventions as her children. The flat-bottomed paper bag, alone, saved people from the carpal tunnel that resulted from dealing with envelope-style paper bags, day after day. The safety guard for mechanical looms, her earliest invention (at age 12), undoubtedly saved many people from being stabbed by sharp looming threaders and industrial-sized needles which could otherwise be jarred loose and become projectiles.

Bette Nesmith Graham (1924-1980) was the inventor of Liquid Paper, the first commercially successful correctional fluid. Her idea came from the remembrance that artists routinely paint over their mistakes, usually with white paint. Adapting this technique to the common business office, she managed to market correctional fluid, first for typewritten error correction, then for mistakes made using pen and ink. Liquid Paper remains useful in the latter instance, even in these days of largely computerized printing. Fun Fact: Bette Nesmith Graham was the mother of the musician Michael Nesmith, who performed as a member of The Monkees, a 1960s pop music group.

There are ever more far-reaching fruits coming from the human mind, which can never truly be compartmentalized according to physical gender, much less to the circumstances of one’s birth. I will continue, throughout March, to underscore the value of recognizing women’s contributions to our heritage.

Lions at Leisure

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March 1, 2021- Contrary to popular wisdom, there were no signs of this new month “coming in like a lion”, although my special assignment included treating some special needs students to a viewing of the “Live Action” (CGI) version of “The Lion King”. Faithful to the plot line of the original Disney cartoon, there was a darker element to both the wayward Uncle Scar and his frenemies, the hyena pack; but, I digress.

March, like September, is a month for either beginning a new season of life or for reaping the harvest of the growing season. It is either a time for taking stock of a season of intense action or for adjusting one’s plans for the coming season of intense action, in light of the reality emanating from the prior season of rest.

There are few lions on the public stage these days. There are those who continue to plot, to blame others for their failings and are very clever at manipulating the fears and biases of those who feel powerless. There are those who mean well, but give too much leeway to others who, under the guise of “freedom of choice”, advance a dystopian, eugenic agenda. Neither group is particularly leonine. The real lions seem to be either quietly working behind the scenes, or are at leisure.

We will see how March plays out. I continue to support the efforts of long-time friends, whilst also helping newer friends with their concerns. I will spend some time hiking in areas that had been on the agenda, earlier this year, as well as for this month, and hopefully get out to see my geographically closest relatives, during the last week of March-and will be inteersted in just how “lamb-like” things are, around then.

The Gullah Land

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February 28, 2021-

One of my favourite areas of the South is coastal Georgia and South Carolina-particularly the Sea Islands. This is largely due to the presence, both physically and spiritually of the Gullah-the descendants of enslaved people, who largely kept their ancestral African culture and language.

While much of the Sea Islands region has been taken over by large hospitality and golfing interests, the flavour of the area has largely been impacted by Gullah cultural features. The Low Country Boil, a popular meal of seafood, greens and fresh corn, is a gift of the enslaved. So, too, are the products brought from Africa, by those carried here against their will. Africans brought rice, okra, coffee, cotton, indigo, and cassava to the Americas, as well as net fishing and even the use of poison to trap large numbers of fish. This last has, thankfully, been shown to be of no benefit to human health-and was abandoned in the Southeast, a long time ago.

The enslaved people showed their captors the techniques of rice, cotton and coffee cultivation. Africans, then as now, knew nothing other than sharing-and at least initially, showing love even in the face of harshness and brutality. Besides, they needed elements of their homeland, in order to maintain sanity, and a sense of purpose. A good source for understanding the complexity of Gullah culture and language is William S. Pollitzer’s “The Gullah People and Their African Heritage”, University of Georgia Press, Athens (GA), 1999, which I have just finished reading. Dr. Pollitzer grew up in the Sea Islands region and was immersed in Gullah culture.

Here is a more audiovisual description of Gullah life, from a story teller on Edisto Island: Theresa Jenkins Hilliard. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0DGijYiGQU

Season’s Change

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February 27, 2021-

Often, around these parts, the approach of March brings somewhat warmer temperatures. This year, while the days are mostly comfortable-almost shirtsleeve weather, there is a cold tinge when the sun goes down. Maybe I am just too used to the warming phenomenon, of the past three decades, but I am feeling a throwback to the four seasons of my childhood- in which winter lasted until April and summer came in mid-June. Conversely, wearing a Halloween mask meant sweating profusely, even after dark.

The two times a year that I would get sick, and have to stay in bed for a day or so, were October into November and right about now. Bed rest and hot tea with honey and lemon did the trick, and it was back to business, the following day. This year, I had a half day of ennui and feel that tomorrow will be a lot more on an even keel. The hardest part is not being up to interacting with my friends, in a coherent way. Brain fog always accompanies change-of-seasonitis. So it was, earlier today.

I can only be grateful for the genes I was given, and the community that surrounds me-offering regular exercise options, wellness care and solid, caring friendships-for which I am honoured to reciprocate.