The Road to 65, Mile 311: Role Models

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Personal Values

October 4, 2015, Prescott-  I went to view the film, “The Martian”, this evening, it being one of three offerings that pique my interest, among the films being shown at our local Picture Show Cinema.  I like that theater, because of the $5 Senior tickets.  It is always crowded, as the General tickets are also economical.

“The Martian” focuses on Matt Damon’s character, and his solitude on Mars.  An equally interesting backflow is the depiction of two strong women astronauts- the Commander (Jessica Chastain- always a force of nature) and the Engineer (Kate Mara).  The men on the crew, including Damon’s character, look upon these two as equals, if not superiors.

I’ll not say anything further about the film.  It’s too much worth seeing on your own.  The thoughts it generated in me were that we have finally reached the time, as a species, when gender should have nothing to do with limiting who is a role model for whom.  A strong woman is vital to the self-concept of young girls, AND there is much that boys can take away from her example.  This shouldn’t be too much of a stretch.  Girls have looked up to men, as character models and teachers, for hundreds of years.

When I was at Hope Fest, yesterday, the Security Team was led by a young woman, who stood 5’1″.  She had gravitas, a very strong sense of command.  This is the sort of presence that will, over time, serve to erase sexism and misogyny.  I have written, previously, of a time when my 50-year-old self worked under the supervision of an 18-year-old woman, who simply had deep knowledge of the particular situation, and was worthy of every ounce of respect I mustered.  I would not have done well in that situation, without her leadership.

We are entering  a fine New Age.

The Road to 65, Mile 310: Springing Eternal

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Posted by on in Assistance, Matters of Faith

October 3, 2015, Prescott- This was a very long day- 5:30 A.M.- 1:15 A.M.  The wake-up was necessary, in order to be up in Flagstaff, in time for a Baha’i gathering- our region’s annual consultation session and election of a delegate to the National Convention, held  the following Spring.  It takes about two hours to go from Prescott to “Flag”.

Once we finished our session, I stayed behind to help with cleaning the hall.  I mention this only because what was waiting for me back here was:  Manning the Registration Table for volunteers at Hope Fest, a faith-based event at Courthouse Square, followed by breaking down the site, when a concert ended at 10 P.M.

Hope Fest was initiated by Evangelical Christians, four years ago, to help homeless families, and domestic violence victims, with access to programs that alleviate suffering and offer relief from the cold, in the months to come.  I joined the effort, because that’s what I do.  A lot of people were here today, as they were at earlier events that came to the aid of the disadvantaged:  Stand Down for Veterans and Empty Bowls, both in mid-September.  It’s what our community does.

Our clean-up crew spent three hours transforming the Court House grounds from “The Day After Mardi Gras” to a place prepared for the next day’s Oktoberfest gathering.  Trust me, all three dumpsters in the back were piled high, but the grounds were spotless, otherwise.  I left right at 1 A.M., walking the mile to my cozy apartment, my pants soaked with salad dressing leakage, to my chagrin and to the discomfort of a twenty-something neighbour, who held her nose as she walked past.  I totally understand- and can’t wait to get all the clothing I wore today, into the washer.

The fun part of the evening, actually, was watching the antics of my supervisor’s three pre-school age children.  As late as it was, they showed no sign of fatigue, leaving at 9:45. This newest generation, sometimes called GenZ, gives credence to Alexander Pope’s wry observation.  Hope is still springing eternal.

The Road to 65, Mile 309: The Sardine Can

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Posted by on in distraction issues, Education, impediments

October 2, 2015, Prescott-  It seems that some school administrators regard placing large numbers of unsettled people into a classroom, late in the day, as a necessary test of the mettle of classroom teachers.  I disagree.  The classroom is a place of learning, not an arena for adult machismo.

I have yet to meet any child, either adolescent or younger, who truly enjoys being stuffed into a sardine can of a room, regardless of how much he or she seems to get a bang out of causing a disturbance that throws the learning exercise off track. It’s human nature to strive for improvement, just as it’s human nature to strike out at being treated like an afterthought.

These thoughts come to mind, after a particularly difficult end to a generally good day. Dealing with people who were jabbing one another with sharp pens and pencils, and yelling over the soundtrack of a video on a totalitarian State is not my idea of paradise, and truth be known, it is not something I will have to do again, any time soon.  First, the Principal of the school has hired more teachers to reduce the class sizes, and after Fall Break, the school promises to be a more equitable place.  Secondly, I will have only Fridays to offer my services there, as a more permanent job will occupy me, the first four days of the workweek.

My point remains, however, that the only way people, of any age, are going to learn is if those devising the system of learning regard their charges as worthy of the same respect they demand for themselves.  By this, I mean deep learning- not just the cognitive command of facts and data.

The Road to 65, Mile 308: October Beginnings

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Posted by on in Education, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values

October 1, 2015, Chino Valley- I made my last visit to Del Rio School for a while, spending the day with a class of second-graders, with whom I have worked a few times in the past.  I will actually miss this school, and several others, but throwing myself into the well-being of a specific group of children, day-to-day, for at least two months, and hopefully longer, is something I need to do.  It’s necessary for my own sense that I can do good by a classroom, over a long period of time.  It’s necessary for the children, whose skills are undeveloped, and thus seen by the Masters of the Universe as “low”.

In another iteration, I covered for a teacher on maternity leave, for five months.  The children loved me, and I, them.  I had the support of the school administration.  The teacher, sad to say, did not like my work and made it very clear, especially at the end.  I digress.

It was a good day today, and it will be another good day tomorrow, at Mile High Middle School, in Prescott.  I can work in Prescott schools on Fridays, until the Winter Break, at least, so the separation is less than final.  My first priority, though, will now be Mingus Springs’ third grade class.

October will see me back on the trails- the first few days of Fall Break- next week, and on several weekends hereafter.  Son will be out here, at the end of the month, and I will make my now traditional visit to San Diego, at Thanksgiving time.  My Faith also factors directly into the schedule:  Besides being the cornerstone of my daily life, Baha’i events will occupy me, this coming Saturday, (as will community service, here in Prescott); at the beginning of November and on several days throughout the Fall.  I can never tell when the needs of trusted friends may arise and take me off on an errand of mercy, as happened a week ago, today.

October is always a fascinating month- and not the least because of our fun traditions of Halloween.  I have always enjoyed treating children, from my front door, over the years, in places like Toltec City, Tuba City, Jeddito, Salome, Phoenix and Prescott.  This Halloween will find me at a friend’s house in Tucson, perhaps finagling front door duty.

The crispness of the air, and the changing leaves of the Northland, will also bring me and mine a renewed energy.  I had my mid-year check-up yesterday, and all my vitals are in top form.  Fall will be a great season.

The Road to 65, Mile 307: Ever After

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Personal goals

September 30, 2015, Chino Valley- This was a good day to meet more of the parents of my eight-year-olds, to learn more of how I might best serve them, in two-weeks’ time, and to develop more rapport with a  man who has been attending our Wednesday night information sessions.  It was also a good night for Thai food.

Today would have been Penny’s 61st birthday.   She and my sister regarded the last two days of September as a special forty-eight hours, and always sent special greetings to one another.  I certainly concur with their assessment- no two women, of our age group, were ever more important to me.  Now, there is a three-day stretch, as my youngest grand-niece was born two days ago.

It’s useless to speculate, as to what my wife would have done, had she lived, or more importantly, had she not fallen to the gradual wasting of Adult-Onset Polyglucosan Body Disease.  I am sure she would have brought more joy and learning, to more children, and we would have continued to cast aside what few barriers there were between us- our marriage was always the most important thing.

Now, I feel her presence, telling me to return to full-time service as a teacher, for five years, or as long as I can maintain clarity and energy.  I am also to remain fully active, so the things for which I have become known online, over the past four years, will remain a part of me- just in a less intensive, and more focused mien.

She is never far, and when our Ever After comes, all I can want is to deserve her pride in what I have done.

The Road to 65, Mile 306: Sis

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Posted by on in Family, Inspiration

September 29, 2015, Chino Valley- I spent the afternoon up here, meeting parents of some of my students and going over materials and procedures with which I will carry on this teaching enterprise, starting October 12.

Today is my only sister’s birthday, so I gave her a call.  She and her husband are in the midst of a long-desired trip, seeing fabulous wilderness, in another part of the country.  It does my heart good to see this, with her life of service having in some ways eclipsed my own.  Her four children and seven grandchildren stand in testament to this.

Sis has been my friend and confidant for most of our lives.  She has survived challenges that would make a lesser person fold up the tent and head for cover.  She has kept on, taken one day at a time, and has never lost her joie de vivre, or ever-present smile.  She  has never lost her love for family, or sense of what is right.

On this day, I can only offer thanks for her presence, and for her unwavering support through the tough years of my beloved wife’s decline.  I am blessed with the best of families, and Sis is no small part of that.  May these birthdays long continue.

The Road to 65, Mile 305: Gran Forno

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Social

September 28, 2015, Prescott- One of my outwardly less successful endeavours, over the years, was my principalship at Chilchinbeto Community School, between Chinle and Kayenta, on the Navajo Nation, in northeast Arizona.  It was, in more ways than one, a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

One of the silver linings, in that dark academic year, 1998-99, was the presence of Youth Empowerment Services, and Tom Riggenbach, who was my second-in-command.  YES, led by Tom, has empowered the youth of the Navajo Nation, for nearly twenty years.  Their Chuska Challenge, a bicycle marathon, through some of the Nation’s wildest and most beautiful country, has brought people from the world over into contact with local youth, in a far more up-close manner than is provided by jeep tours through Monument Valley, or the purchase of a rug at Hubbell Trading Post.  The Dineh’s traditional love of running has also been rekindled, through efforts such as this.

Tom refers to the enterprise variously as Tour de Rez and Gran Forno (an Italian term for the type of bicycle marathon, typified by Tour de France.  The Chuska Range is not for the faint of heart, and Tom has never been in that category.  We didn’t always see eye-to-eye, in the tumultuous aforementioned year, but I always commanded his respect, and he, mine.  He has given a tremendous amount of his energy and drive to the betterment of thousands of Native American youth, and so it continues.

To the extent that I was able to encourage YES, and see the program expand throughout the Four Corners region, my time in Chilchinbeto was not misspent. I look forward to seeing many more years of Gran Forno in the Chuska.

The Road to 65, Miles 303-4: In Sync

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Poetry

September 26-7, 2015, Prescott- 

More doggerel, as my schedule has been hectic, of late:

I read the words of love and caution

Warding me from onward rushing.

Despite the hint of harshness

Your honesty dispels much darkness.

A walk around town cleared my head

Know that your words will never bring dread.

These words spring from a couple of conversations with young people whom I love dearly.

The Road to 65, Mile 302: Pontification

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Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith

September 25, 2015, Prescott-  I spent the day with groups of students, in a couple of Band Rooms- one at Prescott High School, the other at Mile High Middle School.  Supervising band, for someone who can barely read notes, is an interesting stretch of my exchequer.  Two or three students lead the class, actually, and I am there mostly to maintain order.  There are always a few who challenge the authority of whoever is leading the class.  Today, however, I needed only remind the assemblage that it is the upcoming concert that matters, and not the whims of the moment.  The young people set back to work.

Challenges to authority have always been the lot of the common man.  They most always result from a disconnect between the aspirations of the worker and the “Big Picture” agenda of the overlord.  So it is with our current crop of candidates for President, with their immediate predecessor and with the Pope of Rome.  Seven billion souls are each going to see things differently from their neighbours, from their family members, and even from their former selves-or later selves, for that matter.  Baha’u’llah states, with regard to a married couple, “Between them is a barrier, that they overpass not.”  By this, He is referring to the DNA-rooted individuality of every soul who ever lived on this planet, and of every soul who will ever live.

I think of this, while pondering the current visit to the United States, by the philosopher king formerly known as Jorge Bergoglio.  Pope Francis I is astride two worlds, and receives advice and criticism from those in each world, and from those who regard themselves as living in neither.  On the one hand, he seeks to define humaneness as ‘seeing each and every person as a true human being, an individual worthy of respect.’  On the other hand, he, along with every other man who is in a position of sectarian authority- with the possible exception of the Archbishop of Canterbury, sets limits on 50 % of the populace.  Women are given only a certain place in the papal firmament- and there is, to his mind, to be no deviation.

Everyone of us has a duality about us.  We have higher aspirations, most of which have to do with doing right by other people, and by the environment in which we live.  Then, there is the “Me” factor.  Self-preservation is a constant weight on our upwardly-springing feet.  From time immemorial, this self-centeredness has been given a countenance:  The demon.  Putting a face on something, especially on a vile something, separates it from us.  We go to great lengths to lengthen this distance- with talk of Satan walking the Earth and infesting the minds of the wayward.

In the end, though, it falls to the individual to rescue him/herself.  The only one who can take me out of my lower nature is yours truly.  The only one who can overcome the deeply-ingrained senses of racism, sexism, class prejudice and nativism that infest so many, is the person who is weighed down by them.  Others can only stand aside and criticize, point fingers, or turn their faces away in disgust.  They may also offer constructive criticism, which is welcomed by any sincere soul.  The change, however, comes from within.

As Krishna is credited with saying:  “Point a finger at another, and, behold three fingers pointing back at you!”  Godspeed to Senor Bergoglio, and to all who seek a better world.  Let them continue to push away the weight that ties them down.

The Road to 65, Mile 301: I Hear the Rolling Thunder

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Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals

September 24, 2015, Phoenix- I drove a friend down here, this quiet and subdued evening, that she could pay homage to a woman for whom she cared, in the last throes of the lady’s battle with Alzheimer’s.  I did not, of course, know the woman, yet seeing the story of her life, on video, and listening to my friend’s account of her interactions, I was as moved to tears as I would have been, had I known her.

We all have our differences of opinion, and for some, that is the be all and end all of relationships.  Sitting in the chapel, though, and listening to the words of the immortal hymn, “How Great Thou Art”, as sung by Carrie Underwood, I can honestly say there was a total unity, that I have only rarely felt, when in a group of people previously unknown to me.

There are those who anticipate a cataclysmic occurrence, this very weekend, or not long afterward.  I am a skeptic, along those lines.  I believe that something such will happen, but on God’s timetable, not on Man’s.  The truth is, each of us experiences our own personal calamity, from time to time.  The Alzheimer’s and its aftermath were catastrophic to the departed woman and to her family and friends.  Penny’s illness , of nearly eight years, was heart-wrenching to me, to our son and to our families-and how much worse it must have been to her, a woman of high intelligence, drive and achievement.  Every day, people endure natural and man-devised crises and acts of destruction, such as few onlookers can appreciate.

Our strength, as a species, lies in our resilience.  I am entering a phase, in my own recovery, that I could not have anticipated, even three months ago.  This is how it has been, for the last four years and eight months:  One step after another, relying mostly on faith, doing things that are humdrum and ordinary for  many, but for which a person like me, come only with struggle.

I will surely thrive, even through the worst of whatever may lie ahead- so my spirit guide tells me, and I believe her.