An Off-road Caravan

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November 14, 2022, Cortez, CO- As I approached the small community of Tonalea, AZ, en route to Monument Valley, a man in an orange vest held up a sign that said “Emergency ahead”. I came to a line of stopped traffic, and waited patiently for about twenty minutes, as it slowly inched forward, every so often.

Then, I noticed more and more people were taking an alternative, rough dirt route, which I figured would take us past the stalled traffic. So, once close enough to the entry to that of-road track, I joined the somewhat more steadily-moving queue. This brought back memories of visiting various traditional Dineh families, by taking similar tracks, up mesas or through sage-laden deserts.

Every so often,as the caravan inched along, a Navajo policeman or local volunteer would reassure us that we were on the right path. At one point, we encountered people coming the other way. Some of the caravaners opted to go up a somewhat steep bank of soft sand. That did not work for Sportage, so the oncoming vehicles backed up, until the five vehicles behind me, and I, had passed through.

When we got to a gravel church access road, 5 miles along and an hour later, the emergency had cleared and we were all back on the highway. Sportage was no worse for the wear, and I got to Monument Valley around 3:15, which allowed for a short, but satisfying stop near The Mittens, and other nearby formations. It was still a bit nippy, so a short visit was all that I was up for, anyway.

Here are some scenes from that stop.

Sentinel Mesa, west of The Mittens
West Mitten
East Mitten and Elephant Butte
Spearhead Mesa
The Mittens and Elephant Butte

The upshot is that I will surely return at some point in the relatively near future, to hike Navajo Trail, which goes near various of the formations.

Duty called, though, and as the saying goes “Responsibility never takes a vacation.” I delivered a box of Baha’i materials to a Dineh friend, in Aneth, about an hour east of Monument Valley, then stopped for the night at Tomahawk Inn, in this Four Corners hub, so as to have the WiFi needed to host a Zoom meeting. Life, even with challenges such as the off-road experience is very sweet.

No Isolation

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November 10, 2022- The sometimes rambunctious child sat by himself, without anything to occupy him, while a couple of other staff members were called to tend to an emergency, elsewhere on campus. I went over and sat with him for twenty minutes, drilling him on colour and shape flashcards, until his regular paraprofessional returned. No one deserves isolation, save for a limited period of “reflect and correct”. He did well on the cards and was grateful for the attention.

In thinking about prisoners, it was noteworthy that in Tuesday’s election, clauses to the State Constitutions of Alabama, Tennessee and Oregon, which acquiesced to slavery, were removed by a wide majority of the voters. A similar, but poorly-worded, proposition in Louisiana was defeated, but with the understanding that a much-clearer proposition would be put before the voters, as part of the gubernatorial and legislative election, next Fall. Groups don’t deserve extended isolation, any more than individuals do. Incarceration is frequently necessary, yet solitary confinement should be a rarity.

Pariahs have been a feature of the human condition, and some say the animal condition, as far back as observation itself began. Many, myself included, have experienced a limited, short-term shunning, for violating group norms at one time or another. Other times, it’s not even the group which was offended, but an influential person or two. In the latter cases, the isolation has not lasted long at all, as others got under the influencers’ skin and members of the group began to see who was at fault. In time, the shunning usually wears out, in any case, and a new group of friends and associates takes the place of the former group. Even Napoleon had an entourage, when he was sent to St. Helena.

I am grateful, these days, that any seclusion I am put into is of my own volition.

Reversals

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November 9, 2022- At 9 a.m., Mountain Standard Time, the rain was coming down in buckets, outside my workplace, and it was 40 degrees F. At the same time, across the continent, in New England, the temperature was in the mid-60s. Such temperature reversals have been rather common, over the past ten years. I wonder if this might be tied to an axial turn of the planet.

Yesterday’s election seemed to favour those who had campaigned with a keen sense of the public mood. Those who were tone deaf, in that regard, or who simply regurgitated old shibboleths, were largely sent packing. This is a reversal of the old adage that all one has to be is of a different party from the sitting President. A good many citizens expect more of their leadership. There is less difference between the lower middle class Whites and People of Colour than conventional wisdom would have us believe. Thus, conventional wisdom itself is facing a reversal.

In my workspace today, things are stabilizing. The long-delayed strengthening of the classroom and increase in staff began in earnest, yesterday. When I returned from my Election Day stint, it was a pleasure to be able to actually offer focused instruction to a smaller group of students. This is a positive reversal of the trend towards larger class sizes, though there is much left to be done, in restoring confidence in public schools-or schools in general, for that matter.

Sometimes, reversals can be revitalizing and bring about the opposite of what it was feared they would bring.

Forging Ahead

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November 7, 2022- The otherwise kind and polite gentleman wore a sweatshirt that clearly stated how he saw himself. The message could have been interpreted as menacing. I saw it more as of the pre-emptive, “Don’t mess with Texas” variety of commentary. He ate his meal, conversed pleasantly with table mates and carefully placed his dinner tray, like anyone else. His politics are not mine, but I sense that we’d get along quite well, as time goes on.

About forty minutes later, after I had finished my assumed duties at the Monday evening soup kitchen, the strains of Laura Branigan’s “Gloria” could be heard, from a conservative political rally, on the grounds of our courthouse. I drove past, just as Laura’s recorded voice was serving up “all those voices in your head, calling GLORIA!!”, and I wondered, to whom might the person who added that song to the playlist be directing it.

Earlier today, the first of five days working as part of a makeshift crew that is tending to a small group of Special Needs children passed slowly, but in concentrated fashion. Only two of the team have any substantial long-term experience working with such children, and my own experience is scattershot, though I know how to tailor instruction to meet their needs. The school’s Principal is tending to the ambiguous promise of a properly trained full-time teacher, who has yet to make an appearance, as best she can. Since I have no knowledge of exactly what the hold-up is, I will leave it at that. The next two weeks, or so, I will devote four more days: This coming Wednesday, two days next week and the Monday before Thanksgiving, to this endeavour.

There is a full moon tomorrow and a full lunar eclipse will take place, as I sleep. That usually means I will be woken up by one or two strange dreams, and will lie awake for a half hour or so, before falling into another weird scenario. The knowledge that I am in my own bed, in my own room, will let the scenarios fade away. Tomorrow’s agenda includes a drive down to El Mirage, in the western suburbs of Phoenix, and a shift as Poll Chaplain, at City Hall.

Election Day will come and go, as all days do. We will forge ahead.

Not Even….

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November 2, 2022- Perception is 9/10 of reality.

The young woman stood resolutely in front of me, demanding to now why I was focusing my attention on her small group of friends. It was simple: They were not working as expected, and had no intention of doing so. A flood of “whatabout___ and_____” was offered as a rebuttal to my reminders to get the work done. Those groups had completed their assignments, and thus earned her scorn. Being found wrong is a hard thing at any age, but particularly at 15 or 16.

Nonetheless, there is much to respect and admire about Leah (not her real name). Her work habits of this morning aside, she has more integrity in her thumbnail than a good many adults I know. I will also never discourage forthrightness and speaking truth to power. I am sure that she regarded my watching them as a form of stalking, a suspicion borne of God knows what unwanted attention, from whom.

This was one of those occasions where I stepped outside of myself-seeing a mistake in approach to a management problem and drawing insight on how I might have done things differently. A skipped assignment can always be made up. It was explained to me later, by an administrator, that Leah was having a hard time of late. As mentioned earlier, there is always a back story.

This is all a bit ironic, as for 43 of my 45 years in education, my focus has always been the well-being of the child. (The first two years were spent in a system where teachers were feeling their way out of the Dark Ages, and my track record was not all that wonderful. Remorse and atonement are wondrous things.)

As it happened, later on today, a case of verbal harassment of another student was handled swiftly-and the miscreant ended up apologizing to his target-and to the class. I am favourably impressed by the administrators at that school.

As for Leah, and any student-especially a girl or young woman-the thought of me looking upon her with lascivious eyes- ummm, not even! Perception is 9/10 of reality, however-so, it’s wise to mind the perception.

Loving the “Weeds”

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November 1, 2022- The tall, curly-haired boy came in the classroom, for the second time today, perhaps in a state of momentary confusion. Schedules are changing, seemingly willy-nilly in some instances, and the Special Needs children are particularly placed in confusing situations. He spent extra time with me, this morning, on his friend’s recommendation. The afternoon time slot was his regular time in the room, but seeing the work would pretty much be the same as earlier, he left to get some Math instruction.

Though our area has been able to find teachers, sometimes only after a brief period of skeletal staffing, there remains a climate of tentativeness. This does seep through to the children, who need to be reassured-by substitutes like me, that their regular teacher IS coming back tomorrow. They have seen far too much disruption, in these past 2 1/2 years. Once they realize that order is being maintained, the anxiety lowers from the roof, and a fair amount of work gets done.

I have long had a special place in my heart for the roughnecks and the hard-to-reach. It usually takes a day or two, sometimes a week, to gain their trust. Sometimes, the hurt is too deep and I don’t get very far along, and external circumstances keep any meaningful relationship at bay.

There are those who get characterized, still, as “wild weeds”. I remind myself, and any who will listen, that plants called weeds tend to have medicinal value. It is useful to work on the strengths of the child, while curing the flaws. Re-framing people as having Special Gifts makes more sense to me,

Chill, but Not Oblivious

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October 29, 2022, Phoenix- The little girl was so excited to see her Daddy, waiting by the car, that she saw nothing else. Her older sister saw me and the Sportage, rolling along at 5 mph, and threw her arms around her, as I was stepping on the brakes. I let them cross, of course, and Daddy had a talk with his angel. Life will go on.

There were a few others, as I drove to my motel room, on the surface streets that increasingly harbour disconnected or distracted people, both pedestrians and drivers. The motel parking lot had its share of both, as well. Let it not be said that one cannot be his siblings’ keeper. On many occasions, all we have is one another-even if we never see one another again.

The day was intense, as several of us considered the matter of the Baha’i Funds. Contribution, of course, is limited to enrolled Baha’is, and the amounts given are voluntary-no hustle and no pressure. The Spirit is what must move us. We are mainly here at this conference to discuss better ways of educating our communities about the spiritual basis of the Funds. Money is a tool, sure, but it is the attitude one has towards its use that matters most. Again, no hustle and no pressure.

That being done for the day, by 7:15, I headed over to some friends’ house, in central Phoenix, and took in their rejuvenated Halloween gathering, the first they’ve had since 2019. It was a masterwork of decorations and refreshments-with about five “funhouse”style outbuildings and a safely enclosed trampoline for the kids. I stayed for about ninety minutes, then with a view towards tomorrow’s second half of the conference, I quietly left. With over a hundred people at the gathering, it was an easy exit. Driving out, I encountered “Monsters on Bicycles”, a late-evening parade of teenagers riding their bikes in an escorted formation, for which traffic briefly stopped.

This is a nice time of year to be in Phoenix and Scottsdale, with the high temperature just shy of 80. Still and all, one must be on one’s toes. Lives are at stake, otherwise.

The Carson Loop, Day 4: Shakespeare and Sand Dunes

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October 18, 2022, St. Anthony, ID- The best thing about hiking on a sand dune is returning the sand to its spot on the ground, by emptying the shoes. There is no better feeling in the world, than “giving back” in this way.

Also right up there is seeing the lights in several children’s eyes shine, as they learn of things like rhymed couplets and iambic pentameter-taught by one who knows them best, their mother. Home Schooling makes sense for some children, and I witnessed such a group today. I needed to be with other kids, so it would not have been good for me. The three boys and their sister were able to dive into the mechanics of poetry, and read Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”, with each person selecting a part, and Mom taking up the slack. Math, mythology, science and Physical Education rounded out their day, later on.

By then, I was off to St. Anthony Sand Dunes, another surprising aspect of the Snake River Plain. The dunes are twelve miles northwest of town, beyond the potato fields that are so synonymous with this swath of central and eastern Idaho. They were the result, it is said, of the shrinkage of several large lakes in the area, as the climate warmed, towards the end of the last Ice Age. The smaller lakes exposed fine sand, which stopped and began to pile up at the foot of the extinct volcanoes known as Juniper Buttes, as well as at older, longitudinal dunes from previous climate shifts. Today, the Dunes range in height from 10 ft. to 500 ft. Those off to the west tend to be higher, and are given names like Choke Cherry and Dead Horse Bowl. As one might expect, ATV users are given paths to follow, through the fine, white sand. The season for ATV use is essentially from April or May to November. The dunes are mostly closed from January to April or May-to allow for dune regeneration and to give the area’s wildlife a rest.

Here are some scenes of the foliage around Egin Lake and of the dunes themselves.

The oaks in transition, at Egin Lake, St. Anthony Sand Dunes
Egin Lake, with oaks across the way
Egin Lake, with both oaks and grass in fall splendor
Eastern dunes
Sage, oaks and sand
High dune, off Red Road (northern sector of the Preserve)
Dunes up against Juniper Buttes, Red Road sector
Up close with high butte, Red Road sector

Once back in town, I stopped at Chrissy’s, a family restaurant a few blocks from Three Bear Inn. They are well into the Halloween spirit. If you look closely, a skeletal parrot and donkey are in the lower background.

Halloween display at Chrissy’s Restaurant, St. Anthony

I got back to Three Bears in time to keep the ducklings company, while the clan went off to a physical education session. It’s been a rejuvenating 1 1/2 days.

Random Thoughts, As The Seasons Change

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October 7, 2022- Some new friends, at an Oktoberfest dinner I attended this evening, told of a young lady who was their cashier, at a small store and who had said she was working two jobs, because she wanted to get things for herself and that was the only way she could do it. They were “amazed”, that such youngsters still existed. My thought: Welcome to the majority of people, young and old, alike! The noisy, entitled class are not that common, they’re just loud.

I have things that I want to do, over the next several years. So, I’m still working, to a reasonable extent. Honest work remains the best way to assure that one can cover the cost of what is wanted, or needed.

I watched an online memorial service for a man who was a friend to thousands of people, around the world, myself included. His wife and children remembered him, in a good way, which goes to show that a loving soul can and does put family first-and expands his soul family, through continuous acts of love. He was laid to rest in the midst of his beloved Black Hills. Rest in power, Tokaya Inajin. You were a fine friend and mentor.

My little family is now in the last two weeks of an extended training exercise, which when completed will leave them in a more secure position. Son will also have made solid progress in his academic work, and have 3 or 4 semesters left, after this. I have every bit of confidence that he will emerge in a place of strength.

It seems some politicians are all over the place, in their public remarks, of late. That, to me, indicates a loss of control, a sense of powerlessness. I’ve had times in my life, when that’s happened. They were not pleasant experiences, and I am grateful to my spirit guides that these are things of the past; that I can respond to challenges, both from random other people and from the course of events, in a more stable way. Another friend, this morning, called that maturity. I agree wholeheartedly.

Food for thought: Behind every extremist act, or pronouncement, lies a fear that has overtaken the mind, as well as a person who should have offered consistent care and guidance, but did not. There but for the grace of the Divine, and for the consistency of my parents, go I.

In The Presence of Excellence

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October 6, 2022- The little guy was too put off by a work page that was way too crowded and busy for a person with his special needs, so he got under his desk. A classmate said that was where B went, when he got rattled or scared.

The lead teacher has known these students for six weeks, and directed the child and his paraprofessional to a much easier page. Fortunately, the children have alphabet charts and number lines, to back them up, when working on such pages.

The class has the benefit of being led by the above-mentioned teacher, who has a unique blend of intellectual skills, flexible mindset and a keen sense of when to show gentleness or firmness. He has four paraprofessionals working with him: One who has been in the class for over twenty years. One, who recently came on board, has strong native intelligence, as to devising activities that challenge the students at a very basic level, along with an entertaining mode of delivery, after years in the sales profession. The other two are gentle, personable and confident.

All in all, the atmosphere has evolved into one of excellence, appealing to the students’ own sense of self-worth, which is not always a given, in a special needs class. This, in turn, leads to the students wanting to do things on their own and refusing any situation that would contribute to a sense of helplessness. I can think of two kids who sorely needed that change of situation. The teacher will not cater to them, when they do lapse into a mindset of helplessness, though he does not push them beyond their emotional state. The bar remains high, and when they have returned to recovery mode, he gets them to finish their tasks.

It was a fine thing to see a classroom of this magnitude, having been in others where the student/teacher ratio is too high, the structural and expectation levels low and/or at least one staff member is disgruntled, either with the children or with co-workers.