Worlds Within A World, Part VI

0

May 19,2026- My granddaughter, Hana, has taken to spinning a couple of little wheels on her multi-level “School House” toy. She likes to press the colour and shape buttons on another toy, and is trying to figure out how to push the tiny “Menu” lever. That would put some snappy music on, but she doesn’t seem sure how she feels about snappy music. She can listen to it for a few minutes, then looks at me and says “Not”. She blows kisses at us, and carries a wiper cloth around with her, as she is crawling, then wipes her mouth, if there is any spittle. She laughs heartily, sometimes at a silly story one of us is reading. (I think she is good at reading our faces, as well, and laughs along with us. She will be five months old on Thursday.

Plano world began on January 2,2026, when I moved my necessary belongings into the comfortable home that I share with Hana and her parents-my son and daughter-in-law. I kept everything else in storage. Plano world is small, even more so than Low Desert world was, while I was Penny’s caregiver. but not as small as Saugus world. Tending to Hana’s needs, when her parents are otherwise occupied, is my raison d’etre. There are, though, some Baha’i activities and Red Cross Blood Donor Ambassador shifts-the former mostly in the evenings and the latter on weekends only. I visit Plano Farmers Market, on Saturday mornings, but there is no need for volunteers there, so I just buy what attracts me. There are a few coffee shops, restaurants and book shops that I go to, now and then. Mostly, though, my granddaughter, and her parents, are my life.

Son asked me, some time ago, whether I wanted to keep certain items in my car-for when I travel. This Sagittarian has no plans for travel-at least until October, and that will depend on Hana’s needs and her parents’ work situations. If I have two weeks to myself, I will go either east or west. If I don’t have that time, it’ll suffice to enjoy the growth of my precious little girl.

It’s different now. I still correspond with a dear friend in the Philippines and with several others, across the continent and across the globe. It all feels so far away, though. Even Arizona, so embedded in my heart for so many years, feels like another planet; thus, my series being entitled as it is. Prescott felt like that at first, then I threw myself wholly into the community and into traveling. As Hana grows, there may well be an expansion of Plano world-but we’ll see..

Worlds Within A World, Part V

0

May 18, 2026- Mom once said, a boy becomes a man at forty. In my case, it was more like sixty-five.

As my son left for Navy Basic Training, at Great Lakes, north of Chicago, I determined that I would set out for parts unknown. I found that I had a flat tire, so that impulse faded and I went back to the Phoenix house. Two weeks later, I packed what I needed and drove to the family house in Prescott. I spent a few days, then went back and gave away five extended cab pickup loads to Goodwill. My auto body mechanic, Bill, all 6’9″ of him, hauled the stuff away, for $300 and my rocking chair. I loaded a few more boxes with me to take to Prescott, but before I closed up the Phoenix house and drove off, the place had one last hook to sink into me: When I turned off the washing machine faucets, the cold water valve broke. I managed to get to the shutoff bib, before too much water had leaked, but there was drywall that needed replacing, as well as the valve. I bartered with my landscaper, who lived down the street and was willing to do the work: The washer and dryer, a freezer and $200 worth of tools. I left the house keys with him and drove on up to Prescott.

Prescott world (2011-25) was the longest I lived in any one town since Saugus. I would go back and forth to Phoenix, until the sale closed, in 2013, but how I recovered and where, was all on me. I took to the road, a fair number of times, going back to the East Coast at least once a year, often twice. California, Nevada and the Pacific Northwest became regular haunts. I managed to re-visit every state, except Montana and North Dakota, plus several parts of Canada. The Philippines nearly became a second home, and I returned to South Korea for the wedding of Aram and Yunhee. I made it to Europe twice, visiting sixteen countries. Any one of those places could feel like home, and there were parts that did. Prescott, and Arizona, were always a delight to which to return. I devoted myself to hikes, both long and short, as well as soaking up the history of the Grand Canyon State.

Community service filled my days: Paid service in the form of substitute teaching and sweat equity, in Baha’i activities, at the Farmers Market, the Red Cross, Solid Rock’s soup kitchen, various events held by Slow Food- Prescott and a few activities of the American Legion. I paid back all the kindness that the town and surrounding area had shown us in 1992 and 2000-01. Most important, though, was that I regained the self-respect that had been bled from me, during the long period in the desert. I stood up to grifters and thugs, at least five times, during my time in Prescott, acquiring more stamina in the process.

I bid farewell to my mother, both of my in-laws and a fair number of extended family and friends, during this time. Each one gone, though, just made a place in my heart-so that it got bigger. I fell in love again, and might have even sought to re-marry, but for the birth of my beloved granddaughter. This event put an end to Prescott world and opened yet another phase. Plano world began on New Year’s Day.

Worlds Within A World, Part III

0

May 16, 2026– As Penny and I settled into our temporary digs, in Osan, South Korea, the most compelling concern our American host had was that we not cross the chopsticks. It turned out to not be a problem for either of us-we knew how to use the implements already, having dined in several Chinese and Thai establishments in Arizona. There were aspects of Korean society that took more adjusting, but I learned to put the group first, to master the art of saving the face of anyone with whom I might be in conflict and to properly bow, in greeting a social equal or a superior. I adored the music, both traditional and pop, the eagerness to learn of my students, and the reverence for nature shown by most Koreans.

Most of our Korea years (1986-92) were spent on the holiday island of Jeju, a four season paradise, which had yet to attract the intensive Chinese and Japanese investment that has led to overdevelopment in the southern and north central parts of the island. It was another place that, in retrospect, was a five-year blessing. We were each Visiting Professors of conversational English, and taught our students in a holistic manner, linking speaking with reading and writing in our native tongue. We came to learn “market” Korean and to be able to read words written in Hangul. Our son was born there, and was blessed with a lifelong love of the country and its people.We spent a fair amount of time in Seoul, Daegu and Busan, as well, and before I left, I made a bus trip around the periphery of the country. We visited the island of Taiwan, also, establishing heart connections with both Han Chinese and Native Taiwanese people, while teaching the Baha’i Faith and engaging in community service. There are people in both countries who, while I am unlikely to see them again, will be deep in my heart always.

Baha’ullah admonishes His followers to choose honouring our parents over even direct service to His Cause. In January, 1992, Penny’s parents made it clear that they were hurting, both physically and emotionally, from not seeing their only grandson but once a year. So, we moved back to Arizona, where they lived in Prescott, six months of the year and in Bedminster, NJ, the rest of the time. We spent six months in Prescott, and I each worked as a substitute teacher, while Penny remained home with our toddler son. “Home”, during this time, ranged from a motel room to a townhouse. I admit to having been a bit shaky, emotionally, going from a high status position, where I was revered by many, to starting from scratch, as a temporary instructor. This was saved by a return to the Navajo and Hopi Nations (1992-99).

I was again a counselor, and Penny taught Second Grade for two years, then became a literacy specialist, using the Collaborative Literacy Intervention Program (CLIP). During this time, I was elevated by my second building principal, herself a seasoned counselor, to providing a holistic counseling program that included vocational and leisure time skills, as well as psychological and emotional counseling. I also completed my school administration credential, and in 1998, left Jeddito, where we had become settled, to try my hand at running a Navajo Community School. I had become a strong presence in the lives of many students in the Cedar Unified School District, and helped save a few lives. Ambition became a trap, though, and I learned. once again, in my year at Chilchinbeto, that there are people working in a school and living in the community, for whom the actual well-being of children is a secondary concern, at best. By the spring of 1999, Penny was starting to show signs of physical and cognitive decline, I was let go by the Governing Board at Chilchinbeto, and we found ourselves in the small desert town of Salome. As with Tuba City and Jeju, there are people in Jeddito and the Hopi Mesas who I will cherish.always, even if I don’t see them again.

Worlds Within A World, Part II

2

May 15,2026- From the Saugus world, I got a work ethic, respect for family and tradition, a sense of place. From the Army world, I got self-discipline and awareness that people everywhere are more alike than different. From the College world, I got respect for my female peers and a sense of personal independence. From the Maine world, I got the joy of making it through a few harsh winters, and savouring delightful summers, yet I also came to the realization that not all who work with children have their best interests at heart.

After Maine came the Arizona Central Corridor world (1978-1981)-which brought me first to a private boarding school in Eloy, then to Northern Arizona University, Flagstaff. During this time, I made peace with Mathematics, for many years my bugbear, and for two years at the Villa School, my livelihood. I know that, out of my own struggles, there came an affinity with those in my classes who were having a hard time with the concepts. It made me a credible teacher. I came to see troubled teens as worthy of respect. It made me a better human being. I came to see, and know, the majesty of Arizona, and made the acquaintance of the Pacific coast, as far north as Portland and as far south as Guaymas. I went across country, by bus or by thumb, three times.

The Flagstaff years brought the first real sea change in my life-realizing that my globalist self had counterparts in the Baha’i Faith, which I adopted as my own, early in 1981.I met the woman I would marry, waited out her sorting of her life and tossed aside a major obstacle in mine-saying goodbye to alcoholic beverages. I lost a few friends, but made hundreds more-and found myself oriented towards our country’s First Nations.

The firt Navajo-Hopi world (1981-86) put my newly acquired Masters Degree, in Education (Counseling), to full use. Tuba City, on the western edge of Arizona’s Painted Desert, struck me as close to being a Third World place. There were, at the time, a couple of trading posts and several small cafes. While I was there, a grocery store and small mini mall opened up. The small cafes gave way to well-appointed restaurants. I married Penny, we went on Pilgrimage to Israel and the West Bank, getting a fine guided tour of Jerusalem, the Jordan Valley and the Galilee from a retired IDF officer. We spent nine days total in the Holy Land, six of these in Haifa and Akka, There may never be such a consecrated time as this again in my life, but it gave me a foundation to go forward. We would stop in London, for three days, afterward, and I would have the bounty of speaking before people of whom I was in awe. We also would attend a Council Fire of First Nations, in Alberta, teach the Baha’i Faith in Houston, in Guyana and on the Omaha and Pine Ridge Reservations, as well as keeping the home fires burning on the Navajo and Hopi Nations. We buried a good friend in Tuba City and we buried my father, a year after he and Mom had visited us and toured Arizona.

A phone call, in the early morning hours, in January, 1986, was the inception of Korea world (1986-92) That, and the second Navajo-Hopi world (1992-98) will make up Part III..

Worlds Within A World, Part I

0

May 14, 2026- When I was serving in VietNam, my mates referred to the United States as “The World”. It was obvious that this was a euphemism, that the consensus was our homeland was, in effect, the place that mattered above all else. Our world was where family, closest friends and, for many, their sweethearts were waiting.

I have always been a globalist, seeing the people of other nations as having equal importance to me and mine, in the bigger picture. Yet, as I look at my life thus far, periods of time can be centered on a particular place, for a given number of years. Thus these 75 years have seen the following worlds.

The Saugus world (1950-1969)- Although I was born, and lived my first six months, in nearby Melrose, most of my growing up years were spent living in two houses in Saugus, Massachusetts. My wanderlust primarily saw me going around different neighbourhoods of the town, or to neighbouring Lynn. Mashpee, on Cape Cod, and the area between North Conway and Franconia, NH were part of the Saugus World, as they were our family vacation haunts. Other places in eastern Massachusetts, New Hampshire and southern Maine were gradually added to my world-with Boston only entering the list in 1964, when I went with my father on the Freedom Trail. Camping, hiking and body surfing became my idea of fun during the Saugus years. I connected with a small group of neighbourhood kids, was in my share of scraps, had crushes on girls and attempted to attend college, then dabbled in factory work-neither of which my unfocused mind met with success.

The Army world (1969-72)- Training for, and working in, postal work took me away from Saugus. Home was, successively, in Fort Jackson, SC; Fort Benjamin Harrison, IN; Fort Myer, VA; Long Binh and Cholon, VN. I was happiest when on the job, then. I had a few close buddies, but mostly kept to myself. During training, I stayed put, save for a “Most Improved Trainee” weekend pass to Myrtle Beach, SC and a few weekend nights in Columbia and Indianapolis. While in Fort Myer, I became well-acquainted with Washington, DC and learned the train and air shuttle routes between Washington and Boston. Viet Nam obviously was a constricted period, though I took R&R in Sydney for a few days and enjoyed a day in Vung Tau, a beach town near Saigon.

The College World (1972-76)- Once out of the Army, I was more focused and completed Associates and Baccalaureate work, living the first two years again mostly in Saugus, save a brief residence in Beverly, near the campus of North Shore Community College. During this time, I went on a week’s road trip to Prince Edward Island, went to Montreal and Quebec Ville, three or four times, worked several part-time jobs and hit the club scene way too often. I lived in and around the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, for the last two years of this period. Northampton and South Deerfield replaced the Orchard Hill dorms as home, during my last 1 1/2 years of school.

The Maine world (1976-78)- Not all of my life decisions have been good ones. After graduating college and substitute teaching in Saugus and North Reading, with limited success, I went back to a resort in Maine, where I had worked two years earlier. Life at Quisisana was maudlin at best, but I made busing tables a focus and the summer passed nicely. At summer’s end, with no job prospects in eastern Massachusetts and no real attachment to the Amherst area, I went north, to Bangor, as it was near Orono, where I had paternal relatives,and an ancestral connection in Old Town. There was a young lady to whom I was drawn, but it fizzled quickly. I got a small tutoring gig, then a job teaching Emotionally Disabled middle schoolers, followed, the next year by a stint as Title I Tutor. Bangor, Brewer and Dexter were my anchor towns, Etna-Dixmont School paid the bills and the mountains near Kingfield were my solace. I explored all parts of Maine and a good chunk of New Brusnwick, during this time.

After my second year of treading water, it was time to move along. Arizona beckoned, and thus came another world.

The Fable of the Carrots

0

May 13, 2026- I read this to Hana this afternoon. “Once there was a rabbit who had gathered so many carrots, that he had no room in his house. He went about, asking his friends for a place to sleep.” Long story short, he crowded a turtle, a bird and a beaver out of their homes, as he brought many of his carrots along with him. Eventually, he brought his friends with him back to his house, and shared the carrots with them.

She will hear this story again and again, as her parents and I teach her about the importance of not hoarding, and of sharing. She sees us sharing, constantly, so it will not come as a surprise to her that this is expected.

I thought, after the activity, of the dynamics of hoarding; of how it reflects the insecurity of the person amassing, whether it is of money, land, or physical items. The rabbit in the story had so many carrots with him that the branch, on which the bird’s nest sat, broke and the beaver’s house became top-heavy from the overload, and fell into the river. Is the excess of wealth that we see among the oligarchs not the same?

To a certain extent, no one can assess for another, as to how much the other person needs, but billions of dollars are like the carrots in the fable: Both an unwieldy burden and a nuisance to those around the owner. The rabbit ends up deciding to share his excess, to make it up to his friends. Some billionaires have made similar decisions; others give a fair amount of money away to charity, each year, and share with loved ones. The hoarders, though, are going to be faced, sooner or later, with the sky high pile that poses more problems than it relieves.

I am waiting to see who will end up in which group-sharer, or hoarder?

By Example

2

May 11, 2026- Some of what I have modeled for Hana has been physical-even crawling on my hands and knees, a little, so she can see what is involved, and reading words from left to right, pointing,as she follows each word, I also explain what I;m doing, step by step, no matter how simple the task.

She maintains focus, quite a bit more than one might expect a 4.5-month-old infant to keep attention. It seems to be a matter of storing information, either for use in a week or two, as with crawling or the sequence of letters, to recall and use as a toddler.

Funny thing about example: One never knows when little eyes and ears are picking up on what is being said or done. I had given up cursing long before Aram was born, as I just didn’t see any use for such talk, when other words met my needs just as well. He was quite assertive, in calling out what he thought was behaviour that was not in sync with words, especially in middle childhood.

I have a feeling that Hana will do the same. She already communicates quite well, with body language, eye contact and babbles that are fairly comprehensible as words. There is even a fair amount of intonation that give a sense of what she wants to convey.

Example is just the least one can do, to build character in those for whom one is responsible. It is crucial in child rearing-and just as much so, in positions of public responsibility. I had a high bar to maintain, and did, as a teacher, counselor and building principal-and even as a substitute teacher, in my last years of work. I didn’t always meet the expectations of the higher echelon or of the governing boards, but my standing with all but a few students, co-workers and parents was constantly stable.

Elected officials, likewise, would do a whole lot better to adhere to the highest standard of conduct. It’s been a while since that bar has been met, by all too many in public office. This has nothing to do with ideology. As we have seen, there are honest, trustworthy conservatives and progressives alike and there are the opposite, among both camps.

Bringing oneself to account each day seems to be the most effective counter to backsliding and it pays dividends, in terms of how one’s example is followed.

The Beauty of the Lilies

0

May 10, 2026- There was a plenitude of delicious, healthful food at DiMatte’s Mediterranean Buffet, as we celebrate Yunhee’s first Mother’s Day. Hana is still a bit unready for solid food, but she was happy about us going to a large, clean and relatively quiet eatery. She likes people, but doesn’t like excessive noise or heat, which unfortunately are features of many food courts. Besides, this is the first of two special days honouring her parents. Today, and Father’s Day, next month, are on me.

Hana’s understanding of such things is, of course not certain, but probably limited to knowing that her father and I made a fuss over her mother-so she was even more affectionate than usual, towards Yunhee. It was a fine, if low key day, and my daughter-in-law got to do what she likes best, tidying up the common rooms downstairs, and making a nicer play area for her little girl.

In November, 1861, Julia Ward Howe wrote “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, to the tune of “John Brown’s Body”, as a means of lifting the spirits of those fighting for the Union cause in the American Civil War. After that conflict had ended, she was first impelled to organize the national observance of Mother’s Day, in 1867, Following the calamitous Franco-Prussian War, in 1870-71, Ms. Ward-Howe called for an international observance of Mother’s Day, in the hopes of generating a global movement of women for peace. The opening lines of the fifth verse of the anthem are intended to sanctify the giving of lives: “In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,[16]
While God is marching on.” It seldom has worked out that way.

Mothers have never, in their hearts of hearts, desired to see their children slaughtered for the sake of someone else’s agenda. Patriotism mitigates the expression of anti-war sentiments, when it is understood that liberty is threatened by an aggressive enemy, but I recall my mother’s grief when I told her I was headed to Viet Nam, in 1971. I told her at the last minute, as she and my father were saying goodbye at the airport. In the ten months I was there, I handled accountable mail and helped unload bulk mail trucks, but I never faced any real danger from the Viet Cong. There were too many, including two childhood friends, who were not so lucky.

As I write this, the cover page on my laptop shows a setting Sun, still casting an amber glow in the surrounding sky and on the ocean below. I get an odd comfort from this, and feel the strength and love of my mother, my late wife and all my female friends and relatives who have passed on I feel the ongoing love of those nurturing women who are still very much alive-and who tend to the children, animals and the sick who are in their care,

In whatever capacity you nurture, I hope your Mother’s Day has brought honour and solace.

Hands and Knees

0

May 9, 2026- Hana used her knees to move herself forward to day. She crawled forward without anyone serving as a backstop for her feet. This has been something she’s wanted to do for at least three weeks, and today, the connection clicked. She is not a quitter, and I told her I was proud of her.

Seeing the little girl keep at something, until it happened, brought me back to her father learning to ride a bicycle and, a few months later, how to swim. He was five. The earlier milestones he met all happened when I was at work: His first crawl, his first steps and his first unmimicked words. I will be around for Hana’s little victories.

Many times in life, both individually and as a community, setbacks are faced. I don’t know the cosmic reason for this. Maybe it is a matter of needing to revisit a situation and deepen one’s skill sets. Perhaps someone else involved in a process needs the same, and you are just along for the ride.Maybe those opposed to forward progress need to revisit the situation, in a position of power, and be shown, one more time, why their backward focus doesn’t work.

Regardless, getting through the situation, with the equivalent of the hands and knees working in synchronicity, is always essential. Whether the cooperation involves two people or a thousand, commitment, consultation and mutual understanding are the keys. Whether it entails the use of hand tools, power tools or electronics, making sure the devices are appropriate to the job, are in good working order, and that the instructions for their use and care are read, understood and followed, is imperative.

Every task comes back to the hands and knees.

False Equivalence

2

May 8, 2026- I read a post, this evening, in which a grown woman complains that a 6-year-old, who has been diagnosed with autism, “conveniently” reins in her tantrums-when there are no flashing lights and sudden noises. My, my!

I am mildly autistic. Much of my more “inconvenient” behaviour has fallen away, over the past few decades. It’s been a while, since I was six year old -or thirteen-or twenty-five. Learning which foods aggravate my neural functioning, and avoiding them, has helped. Meditation and daily prayer also help focus my energies. Maturation, though, has been largely responsible, for changes in my behaviour.

I will say, though, that we still have a society which is poor at recognizing developmental differences between young children, adolescents, young adults and people of “middle age”. I spoke yesterday about magical thinking. People like the complainer in the above-mentioned post tend to indulge in wishful thinking. Too lazy, rigid or ignorant to recognize and accept differences in people, they stage public shaming rituals and look under rocks for reasons to excoriate those with disabilities.

While I, out of common courtesy, have made a concerted effort to evolve my own behaviours in a positive direction, If I encounter a confrontation between a neurodivergent child and an adult, other than a parent*, who is passing judgement, I will stand up for the child. There are ways to calm and refocus an autistic or other neurodivergent person. Confrontation and “tough love” are certainly not among them.

Beside, saying that a 6-year-old should be held to the same standard as an adult is false equivalence and says more about the unmet needs of the complainer than it does about the child.

  • Parents of neurodivergent children are most often supportive of their child and seek non-escaltatory solutions to situations that arise, involving their child.