Category Archives: Social

The Road to 65, Mile 140: Happy Returns

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Personal goals, Social

April 17, 2015, Prescott- I returned an item that was particular to my Kia, and got money back, that will be useful tomorrow. A few hours later, I returned to a neighbourhood trail, the Turley Trail, named for a man who was instrumental in starting the Prescott Circle, which begins at “P” Mountain, east of town, and goes in a 360 around the Bean Peaks, Sierra Prieta, Thumb Butte, Granite Mountain, Pioneer Park and our northeastern lakes, then back towards Lynx Lake and again to “P”.

The Turley is 2.5 miles, one way, and traverses four ridges, before ending at a Prescott Circle marker, in a forested ravine. I’ve written of it before, but here are some views from yesterday.

“P” Mountain is not directly accessible from this point, but it’s quite an inspiration, nonetheless.

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Here is the gap between the first and second ridges. This is a moderate hike.

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On return hikes, I focus more on the small. Wildflowers are a bit past peak here, but still captivating.SAM_4791

The quartz and granite caught my eye, at several points along the way.SAM_4794

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Finally, here is a cave, which I don’t remember seeing last time.

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It’s probably an animal lair of some sort, so of course I contented myself with this particular view.

Finally, the journalist David Brooks was on NPR, discussing his book on returning to a community-centered ethos. More on that, later.

The Road to 65, Mile 139: High School

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April 16, 2015, Prescott- The other day, when I was covering a classroom at an area high school, a student remarked that one of his instructors essentially “phoned-in” his classes, putting on a video, with minimal explanation, and sitting back, as the kids zoned out, day after day. As any class has the potential to be stimulating, rewarding and useful in a person’s future, this tale was especially saddening.

I have seen all manner of instruction, or lack thereof, in my ten years as a fill-in instructor. Some days, I have read entire chapters of my own books, while monitoring students taking tests. Other days, I have been fully engaged in instruction, carrying on a well-planned lesson.

This evening, I visited with an extended family for about forty minutes. One of the members is a high school freshman, who spoke of having given perfunctory responses to a standardized test. After several of us adults remarked as to the reasons why such tests are important, she replied that no prior notice of the test was given, nor was there any explanation offered, other than “It’s that time again. Here’s the State Test, you know the drill.”

I have not worked in her school for a very long time. The administrator’s policy is that only women, and men over the age of 70, are to be trusted with the students. Quirks like that may work for a time, but the reality is: People are fallible, regardless of gender or age. People are also known to be trustworthy, regardless of gender or age.

My young friend corroborated my remarks about the above-mentioned high school, saying this was common in her school as well. The loudest and pushiest students are recognized, as are a favoured few others, and the idea of random questioning, or calling on people for response, is given short shrift in many classrooms. I call on a variety of people, regardless of whose hand is up for every single question. There is no other way I can conceive, to reinforce the idea that everyone matters, that the learning of all is important.

I have been blacklisted by a few administrators whose attitude is “My way or the highway”, and yet, when I speak to students who are in those schools, the answer is often, “Mr. (or Ms.)________ doesn’t care much about us”. Surprising? Hardly. The name of the game, in my humble opinion is “We are in the business of building a solid future.” We are concerned with validation, affirmation, of the dreams and goals of beautiful souls, awesome human beings. That’s education, in a nutshell.

The Road to 65, Mile 138: The Best Defense

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April 15, 2015, Chino Valley- Whilst covering a classroom full of third graders today, I was told by two of the girls, independently of one another, that they had to run from a man who had tried to snatch them into his car. Both said that their parents had kept them safe, once they got away, and that the police had been told.

I showed each of them, vicariously, how to get free of a person who had them in an armhold, from behind. The heel of a shoe is a good, solid defensive weapon, when thrust backward at a would-be captor’s shin. It is important to note that, in neither case, was a weapon being brandished by the assailant. That, of course, is a game-changer, though not one that can withstand a little person’s ear-splitting shriek!

Today marks a year, since the abduction of over 200 school girls by Boko Haram. The Nigerian Army has been unshackled by the country’s new President, and along with forces from neighbouring countries, may well have more success in crushing the brutes of the Islamic far right. We can only pray, in the meantime, for the safe return of ALL children and teens who have been kidnapped or conscripted by the forces of darkness.

This brings me to the concept of defense against physical and sexual abuse of children, anywhere. The first line is always the individual’s realization that no one, at any time, has the right to abscond with his/her body, or mind. These are given each of us, by the Creative Force, and we relinquish them to others at our long-term peril. Secondly, family must defend the child’s well-being, with no regard for monetary gain, promises of support from the transgressors or, in the worst case, giving in to one’s psychological or emotional weaknesses. Thirdly, the community must support the child, hopefully with the family’s blessing, but unilaterally if the family is found to be the source of abuse, or in league with the abuser(s). There was a movement, in the 1980’s, to shift the focus of sexual abuse prevention away from the victim, towards “giving the abuser a chance at healing and redemption”. This was a terribly misguided effort, and set back the healing of thousands of abused children. I was glad to be part of an education effort, in the 1990’s, which reset the focus back on awareness and prevention, with treatment of offenders conducted separately, away from the programs that were concerned with the victims.

When I was accosted by a pedophile,at the age of fourteen, I was able to stand up to him and not be cowed by his loud threats. Nothing further came of his false bravado, and my life has gone on, with normal relationships with girls and women, in the years since. The best defense remains a solid first response of N-O!

The Road to 65, Mile 137: Safety/Warning

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April 14, 2015, Prescott- Towards the end of my work day, this afternoon, a young man asked to use the restroom. The wind had blown the door shut, so he had to push hard against the door, but to no avail. I tried the door, and found it jammed shut. I sent the student out through the back corridor, while one of the young ladies in the class worked on opening the door, eventually succeeding. This whole incident, which I reported to the front office, brought back memories of locked doors in places like Providence, RI and Dhaka, Bangladesh- doors whose locked status spelled doom for large numbers of people. I would have been able to lead the kids outside, through the back way, had there been an emergency today, but what if some were to panic?

This evening, I attended a gathering of Slow Food Prescott, and several local events, for the next several weeks were announced. While walking home, after the meeting, I got a waking message from my spirit guide: Do not leave town, unnecessarily, until May 21. There was an inkling that, had I stayed here on Holy Saturday, April 4, and tended to getting a certain person to move, I would not have generated the negative energy that led to my crashing the Kia. There was a further message that, aside from an Awareness Walk and a dental appointment in Phoenix, the week after next, there were things on which I needed to focus, here. I looked at the list of events which could use my assistance, and made the connection.

These seemingly disparate incidents just serve to point out the need for a wanderer to have a base, and for the base to need a wanderer. My connections to the wider world are shared by people here, with whom my own tentative bonds are sure to get stronger.

The Road to 65, Mile 136: The Last Such Gift

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

April 13, 2015, Prescott- I completed my online Defensive Driving class, this evening. Then, I went over to the Tow Lot and retrieved the license plate to the defunct KIA. There, I learned that the brake line snapped because it had been cut. This explains the failure to stop, on Holy Saturday. A round of machine work and deep heat massage at Planet Fitness completed the ritual I am back into the routine.

The loss of my 2007 KIA Optima marks the end of my direct, day-to-day connection with Penny’s side of the family. The house has given way to the apartment, and the KIA to the Nissan. Penny will never give way to anyone. If I enter into another relationship, it will parallel my now spiritual tie to the most effervescent, heart-centered soul I have ever known. She has guided me into friendships with other women, and I’m sure this process will continue. The central bond is always there, by the Grace of God.

The last gift I received from her, in the tangible sense, was an investment, the core of which I will guard and do what I can to help grow. It is this which has helped me, in turn, show responsibility and pay various homages to both her father and to those who came long before us, both here in North America and on the continent of Europe. It is this which helped me honour our son, on his return voyage from Hawai’i to California.

The last gift from the Light of my life is generating seeds of its own.

The Road to 65, Mile 135: Stratified and Dissatisfied

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April 12, 2015, Eloy, AZ-  

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The day broke, generally cloudy, but for one bright spot of blue. As I gazed at where the sun was illuminating its cloud cover, the blue spot just below it showed a face, of sorts. I took this to mean that the spirit world was telling me that today will be a productive one.

We did go through a lot of material and set the stage for a lot of “heavy lifting”, in terms of connecting with the wider society. As I said yesterday, to the apparent consternation of many, we Baha’is are no longer hiding on the fringes of humanity. We have much to offer, and will work shoulder-to-shoulder with all people of good will, in remedying the ills of the planet.

Some have asked me, “What sort of people do you favour?” Answer: Human beings.

“Where do you consider home?” Answer: Earth

“Is it not necessary to separate people into groups, so as to make sense of our human condition?” Answer: Perhaps, but not in the sense that some are seen as better than others.

I detest social stratification. I have never met a physically dirty person who can’t be made presentable,either by his/her own hand or with the help of others. I have yet to meet a wealthy person whose heart can’t be touched to the point that he or she generously gives of self or of resources. Stratification of society serves, essentially, those who for one reason or another fear contact with certain segments of society. “It’s just easier this way.”, I’ve been told.

We each have our preferences. I am drawn more readily to some people than to others, and likewise, some are drawn to me, more than to, say, the President of the United States, or to a surfer at Doheny Beach. None of this, however, means that we must exempt any particular group of people from our lives. I’ve rubbed shoulders, so to speak, with high and low alike- and some of those, at both levels, have been a bit on the seamy side. None are beyond redemption.

Those who categorize others, to a great extent, may find themselves dissatisfied with certain aspects of their lives. I’m not surprised at this, because in the act of pigeonholing others, one is limiting oneself, and one’s choices, as well. This doesn’t mean we must, in Pollyannish fashion, approve of every aspect of everyone else’s lives. Rather, it means, simply that an effort to understand, and then to find a place in one’s life, for as wide a variety of people as possible, makes for greater satisfaction.

Those were my thoughts, as we prepared to end the weekend’s consultation, in this Desert Rose.

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The Road to 65, Mile 133: Silver and Gold

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April 10, 2015, Eloy, AZ- Three of us took a drive down here, from Prescott, this evening, and will spend the better part of the weekend in conference with about 50 other people, on the relationship of the Baha’i Faith to our wider society. I will write more about that, in the next two posts.

More urgent for me, today, is another consideration of my expanding and evolving circle of friends.  I don’t use people, nor do I let myself be used. Some “friendships”, in days long past, have ended abruptly, once I got the idea that the person was not to be trusted.

All in all, though, I am very rich, in the friends department. I will not want for hugs, warm greetings, and help when I need it- from my longtime friends who, as the old song says, are “gold”. Neither will they want for reciprocity from me. I have recently made more new friendships, and let the silver stock build also. These friends, two in particular, bring artistic bounty to my world. I have missed that, somewhat, since Penny’s voice was stilled.

I thought of this, on the way down, as I momentarily felt alone. There was something else, also. When there is disagreement between people, however slight, one must have the presence of mind to know that there are others who will reassure each person, and help their respective journeys resume. We need both “silver” and “gold” friends, to reinforce the structure of our own self-worth.

The Road to 65, Mile 131: Typhoons

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April 8, 2015, Prescott- It was cold all over the place today. Snow was reported on the East Coast, and we shivered a bit, here in northern Arizona. North America is past being ready for warm weather.

It’s time to consider that warm weather has its price: Storms happen, as anyone in New Orleans or Miami can attest. Tornadoes have already swiped Oklahoma and Arkansas, this spring. Even Dubai had a wicked dust storm, last week.

Typhoons, though, are in a league of their own. Being cyclonic in nature is bad enough, when the storm is an Atlantic or eastern Pacific hurricane. In the islands of the western Pacific, from Borneo and New Guinea to New Zealand, and on up to Japan, the deadliness of a Category 5 Typhoon, hitting a low-lying island community, seemingly from three directions at once, defies the imagination. The Philippines have had two such killer storms, this year alone. Vanuatu, which used to be called New Hebrides, is slowly inching forward in recovery from a massive typhoon, a few long weeks ago. Small countries nearby, named Kiribati and Tuvalu, also got hammered by the monster. These are not places with an unlimited store of resilience, but they will come back from that one.

Word has reached us, this evening, of yet another Category 5. This one is hitting Micronesia, a vast federation of atolls, stretching nearly 1,000 miles from east to west. There was a civilization in western Micronesia, when Europe was shaking from the Dark Ages. The villagers of the low-lying islands had much to impart to the Spanish and Dutch, who came seeking a quick route from China to the Americas, in the Sixteenth Century.

We used to have an image of Pacific Islanders, as happy, carefree dancers and singers, who were always glad to see boatloads of tourists. There was a warrior segment, also, of course, but they got reduced to an entertainment contingent as well- savagely tattooed and grimacing, to the delight of the squealing audience.

It was never thus. South Sea islands, to my mind, are harsh places, in terms of having enough fresh water; in terms of surviving monster waves, tides and gale-force winds; in terms of not being forgotten by the wider world. We who are concerned with rising seas, point to places like Kiribati, Tuvalu and Nauru, in the Pacific, Anguilla in the Caribbean, and the Maldives and Seychelles, in the Indian Ocean, as victims of climate change, “in the not-to-distant future”. This year’s experience, though, suggests that the world had better keep an eye on nature’s “dry runs”- the three Category 5 typhoons that have leveled the homes of good-hearted and long-struggling human beings. Mankind is one, after all.

The Road to 65, Mile 130: Catharsis

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April 7, 2015, Prescott- Often, on Tuesdays, I feel a sense of foreboding or ennui. I’m not quite sure what has brought that on. Today, however, I felt a very strong sense of purpose. The idea was to make the search for another vehicle front and center. So, after clearing my calendar for the day, I headed over to a lot, not far from my home.

It is a clean, well-appointed business, with a large and clean office that is brightly-lit. There is nothing seedy about the establishment, or its owner. I walked around and looked at a dozen or so vehicles, finding none that particularly suited my fancy- except one. A gray Nissan Altima, the second vehicle I examined, drew me back for a second look. There was an energy coming from this inanimate creation, if one can believe such a thing.

The remorse and sadness I have felt, over losing my Kia, has started to melt away. I know it is all because of all the memories and the service that automobile gave me. It’s also because I let myself down, and did not maintain my regimen of safe driving.

Seeing a vehicle that is in fine repair and has a good maintenance record is cathartic. I am re-energized and back on track. The energy that seemed to take a negative turn, with the accident and the Blood Moon, has returned to an upbeat level. Later this afternoon, I did laundry. The antagonistic people who are there earlier in the day, had left. A young man, who was not familiar with the dryers, put too many coins in his. As his clothes were finished, with over a dollar’s worth of time left on the machine, he asked for a refund, from the manager. This, of course, was not possible. The kid offered me the dryer, and went to leave. I gave him the quarters for the time that was left. Adults do not take advantage of their juniors, or of anyone else, for that matter.

Today was Arizona Gives Day. I did send a small amount to a Yavapai County children’s fund. We have more youngsters suffering here than one might think. I find them constantly on my mind.

Well, there is something about just getting up, moving past ennui and getting the big stuff done. The cathartic effect of something as small as mailing an envelope, my first order of business today, generated energy to get the car search underway, which in turn made the rest of the day reveal random opportunities for service. Life means rolling, ever so carefully, over the speed bumps.

The Road to 65, Mile 129: Aftermath

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April 6, 2015, Prescott- I am off work for a few days, mainly to complete the disposition of my old vehicle, which will be greatly missed, and to tend to things, like laundry, which are no longer a routine drive down the street. Today’s retrieval of my camping gear and other items from the Kia, and a trip to MVD for a document, had to be coordinated with friends. This will be a “new normal” for a few days. I have to make time to visit a dealership on Sheldon Street, tomorrow, and price/select a vehicle which I can buy with cash, then get the cash, and hopefully be back in wheels by the weekend.

Not everyone is so lucky. My person was not badly affected by Saturday’s accident. I have the sturdy design of the Kia to thank for that. My high school driving instructor, the late, great Len Wall, would have been aghast at my driving, at that short point in time. He’d have railed at me, as he did, to my ultimate benefit, on a few occasions when I was under his tutelage. The result of his passionate instruction was forty-eight years of safe driving, with only one previous accident, which was a slide on ice and did not result in any appreciable damage.   I am determined, I will resume that record. An AARP safe driver class will supplement the court-ordered Traffic Safety class that I will take online, over the next few days.

I have to get to work again, and thanks to a few good friends, I won’t have to turn down work, after tomorrow. Then, too, are the various meetings and gatherings, which may be easily taken for granted, as to accessibility. It is good to be in touch with what so many have to face, each day, without a vehicle of their own.

One other thing: As I was walking back from downtown, this evening, I greeted a street person who was sitting forlornly on a bench. A well-dressed man approached and offered the man a room for the night, at the nearby Hassayampa Inn, a well-appointed establishment. There are so many fine human beings in this world, and we do well to acknowledge them, as they appear.