Tag Archives: Northern Arizona University

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 14

0
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Education, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 4, 2026- “All done! Aaahh.” With those words, my granddaughter pushed away her empty water cup, having cleaned her plate at lunch time. She cleans her plate every meal, so this was no surprise.

Earlier, no sooner had Yunhee placed a sloping wedge in the playpen, for Hana to climb (under supervision), than our little girl looked at me, standing outside the playpen and pushed the wedge over to the playpen wall, where I was standing. She then climbed up on the wedge and pulled herself up, using the wall. I held her back, and when she started to move backwards, gently lowered her to the wedge

The vigilance has thus gone a few notches higher. I know it is going to be all the more urgent, once Hana learns to walk-and run. She was quite proud of herself for having thought of using the wedge as a step, to look over the playpen wall.

When Aram called, to report the need to take his car to the shop, Hana listened, as I put the call on speaker. She called out “Talk to Daddy!”, which made his day. These little bits of commentary certainly make my days, also.

HANA’S NOTE- I like the lunch my Mommy makes for me. It is always easy to eat, and tastes good.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1987 In January, I was offered a Visiting Professorship. in Jeju National University’s Department of English Language Education, In February, I was told that I had to leave Korea while my employment visa was being processed. So, I returned to the United States, landing in Los Angeles, then flying to Portland, and continuing by bus to Seattle, then across the northern tier. My one and only visit to North Dakota, thus far, entailed being on a Greyhound that braved a blizzard. As we stopped, briefly, in Steele, ND, the driver remarked that if blizzards stopped buses, no one in North Dakota would go anywhere for six months. We left the snow behind in Chicago, then I went on through NYC to Boston. I spent a week with my mother, helping to soothe her still aching heart. I spent three days with Penny’s parents, in New Jersey, then took another bus to Greenville, South Carolina, where my brother Dave and his family were living at the time. I spent about ten days there, until I got word that my visa had been approved. I then went by bus across the South, passing through New Orleans on the morning of Ash Wednesday, thus seeing the mounds of debris, the morning after Mardi Gras. I took a plane from Phoenix to LA, then had to negotiate a flight back to Seoul and Jeju, as Korean Air was skeptical of my visa, for some reason. I got back to Jeju and gave Penny a pleasant surprise. (This was before cellular phones, mind you, so there was no way to call her, when I was having flight issues.)

My year as a professor involved a brief learning curve, with regard to the mind of the Korean university students (much more like high school students, in terms of maturity, back then). We endured months of active protests on the campus, on one occasion maintaining strict silence, as militant students marched down the hall of our building, clanging steel rods on the floor as they passed. A radical student in one of my classes told me that her friends would confine me to my office,if they knew I was in class. She and my other students did not want that to happen. so they kept still.

Penny and I went back to the U.S. again in summer, taking a five-week summer session at NAU, then spending a few weeks in New Jersey and Massachusetts, before returning to Korea in late August. The family visits would be our summer routine, for each of the years that we were in Korea- except for the year to come. Another big change was coming to our lives.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 13

0
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

August 3, 2026- Hana has taken to kneeling and looking at the camera that is above her crib, when she wants someone to come to her. She will start babbling, in a sensible cadence, so I know that she is thinking about what to say. Her appetite has also increased, since her upper incisors have come in.

She comes to me, in the playpen, when she wants to practice standing. It is easier to grab onto Papa than onto the play pen lining, and besides, I will both hold her up and cheer her on. Although “I am Baby” is one of her latest phrases, she has a quite elevated agenda, for a seven-month-old.

HANA’S NOTE- I like it when Daddy calls, because then Papa lets me listen to the phone call. Any other time, the phone is off-limits.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1986 This was another seismic year. Late on a January night, I took a call from South Korea. A Baha’i friend there, who knew that Penny was getting her Master’s Degree in Teaching English as a Second Language, called to ask whether she would be interested in taking his position: Visiting Professor of English, in the Department of English Language and Literature, at Jeju National University. Her half-conscious response was: “Sure, why not?”

Despite a lot of internal back and forth on the matter, she took the position and we began to uncouple from Tuba City. We made arrangements to move ourselves, and our household items, in August. We left Tuba in June and spent two months at NAU, in Flagstaff. I was taking courses towards a School Administrative Certificate, and had 12 credits left to earn. Six of those credits were covered that summer.

It was only two weeks into the summer session, when I got the phone call that my father had passed away. On a Sunday morning, his heart failed him, as he prepared for a routine visit to my youngest brother’s residential facility. I made flight arrangements, almost immediately, in rather a foggy state of mind, and called one of my professors, to explain the situation. He promised to tell my other professor. Penny was unable to join me, as her key exam was the following Saturday. We went to get her food for the week, as I would have the car to drive to Phoenix. Then, I was off. I got to Boston around 11 p.m., meeting my brother, Dave at Logan Airport. A short time later, I was holding my mother as tightly as I had when her mother had passed, thirty-six years earlier. It was a week of remembrance, giving and receiving solace and yard work. I enlisted the help of a few uncles and cousins for my mother, before I left to go back to Arizona.

We arrived in South Korea, in mid-August. A week was spent with American friends in Osan, outside of Seoul. Acclimating to Korean life in Metro Seoul was a bit like assimilating to American life, by living in New York or Los Angeles, It was a bit of a Boot Camp, though, and we were in fairly good shape, by the time we went down to Jeju. A few weeks later, we were in our Teacherage, Penny began her teaching work and I spent my days tutoring a few Korean students and getting to know the coffee houses of downtown Jeju. Penny and I also went to the southern island town of Seogwip’o. As it happened, the area had just been hit by a typhoon, and we saw lot of clean-up going on.

My own work as a Visiting Professor of English would start, early the following year.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 12

0
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

August 2, 2026- After yesterday’s frenetic activity, I stayed close to home all day today. Hana was fairly quiet, as well, just being glad to be with her parents, sitting in the playpen and talking softly to her Mom, then taking an hour’s nap on her Daddy’s shoulder.

We did go to a couple of stores, buying some small household items and a few more groceries for the week’s meal planning. Both of Hana’s parents worked very hard today, to get all of her meals ready and preparing lunches that they can take with them, without a lot of last-minute preparation. They even baked chocolate chip cookies together, this afternoon, once we got back.

Papa did back-up work, but my day was not all that hard. Being an extra pair of hands, when Hana needed to be changed,and when she was done being bathed, holding out the towel and wrapping her in it, was enough. I cleaned up a fair number of items that were in boxes, and have enough space to set aside paintings that are lying about the common room, outside my bedroom.

HANA’S NOTE- I want to grab anything I see, these days. Today, I figured out how to unlatch the clasp on my bouncy chair. Daddy caught me, though, and refastened it.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1985- My parents visited Penny and me, and we took them around Arizona-to Grand Canyon, Sedona, Prescott, Flagstaff, Montezuma Castle, the Hopi villages and Phoenix. We enjoyed a day or so in Tuba City as well. It would be the last time I saw Dad, so I’m glad they seemed to enjoy themselves. Penny’s parents also came out for a visit, in September. They were faithful, in making a yearly visit, while we were in Tuba City.

This was a year for gardening, as we had no out of state trips planned. We grew squash, tomatoes, peppers, melons and corn. It was a healing exercise for both of us. I also focused on Baha’i teaching activities, while Penny was in Flagstaff, working on her second Master’s Degree. When she felt lonely, I left the Baha’i activities and stayed with her at the University. Re-setting priorities was something on which I did not always excel. Things worked out, though,and we had a fairly good Fall and Winter.

Our life together was, however, about to head in a different direction, in the year to come.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day7

0
Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Historical, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

July 28, 2026- “What is boody boody doo?” , my granddaughter asked, this afternoon, when I warbled the nonsense phrase. This is the first time she has asked a coherent question, so I gave her a simple answer: “I’m just being silly.” Her slight smile let me off the hook. She did another first, shortly afterward: Planting her feet firmly on the floor, as she stood up, with my support. She wanted to look out the window-and of course touch the blinds. Then, she contented herself with opening and closing the gate to the playpen. It’s plastic and opens out, so there is no danger. She did this for about twenty minutes, then wanted to go back inside the pen and play.

I told her that she has eight special qualities: She is very smart; she is pretty; she has good health-including exercise drive and appetite;she is assertive; she has a great sense of humour; she is curious; she is adventuresome; she has a big heart. I see all these, regularly. Of course, she is an infant and does infantile things, but tantrums are rare, because her needs are anticipated and the three of us are good at picking up on her cues.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa can be very silly, but I love his silliness and how he dances me around the playpen.

YEAR IN REVIEW-1980 A bad day is often followed by a good one. A bad decade is likewise followed by a nice one-if the right lessons are learned. This year saw me leave Villa School, and enter a a Masters program at Northern Arizona University. The better part of this year saw me continue to bounce off proverbial walls. I still committed social faux pas, though in each case, I suffered immediate consequences and learned from them. I finished at the Villa with my head held high and went into summer classes at NAU, after a two-week break.

I found a town house, whose tenant needed a roommate. Although we were polar opposites, it worked, for about three months. Much of that time, I was on the road-going up to Oregon and back, with a fellow student. Another jaunt took me to Santa Fe, Taos and Los Alamos, with another student who was going one way. I caught a bus back, from Albuquerque. My housemate connected me with a Sky Y group that was going to Havasupai. I was hired on as a chaperone for a group of middle school kids. It was a good, strenuous hike and I got to see Havasupai Falls-a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I worked at a part-time job on the NAU campus, devising assistance programs for handicapped students in three public school districts. It was a rather nebulous assignment and I don’t think I accomplished much, other than give inspirational talks to juniors and seniors at Grand Canyon High School, in Tusayan and at Williams High School.

In November, I felt stirrings that I had not felt since I last saw Katie, at UMass-Boston. The first part of th emonth, I went with a couple of other students to Durango, CO and visited a former student at Fort Lewis College. At the place where I stayed, a friendly young woman caught my interest, though she had her life and I had mine, It was, though, the first time in several years that I felt someone special was about to come into my life. On my birthday weekend, I went to San Diego and stayed in a hostel. I met a few other ladies there, and felt more relaxed around them than I ever had in Flagstaff. Something, it seemed, was about to happen.

That semester, I took an anthropology class, which entailed field trips to Hopi and Zuni. In early December, there is a house blessing ceremony at Zuni, called Shalako. Our class went there, and huddled in the cozy main house. There were several other visitors there, mostly anthropology buffs and a couple of professors from the University of New Mexico. One of these visitors was speaking Spanish with a New Jersey accent. A classmate remarked on the “paucity’ of her speech. I glanced at the visitor, and we locked eyes. She then came over and started talking to me, in English. Her New Jersey accent was not off-putting in the least. Neither was anything else about her. This was Penny, and my life was about to experience two sea changes.

Worlds Within A World, Part II

2
Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

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..

Atonement

0
Posted by on in Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social

April 5, 2026- It was a blustery, snowy night, in February, 1978. Out of money, out of gas for my Ford LTD, I walked into the Sheriff’s Office, in Skowhegan, and asked the deputy to lock me in a cell for the night. I had broken no human laws, but still felt that a night in jail was what I deserved. He obliged-no charges, no fines, just a hard bunk, an old pillow and a blanket.

I had gone up to the Winter Carnival, in Quebec, with three young ladies along. They found their own accommodations, and I, my own. We met up on Sunday morning, after what had been a fairly pleasant 1 1/2 days. The ride back, through an increasingly heavy snow, was sent from Down Below. By the time we got to Skowhegan, in western Maine, the car was nearly out of gas, we were all just about out of money and the women were out of patience with me. They left, and were able to hitch a ride, or two, back to Orono, and their university dorms.

I chose to wait until morning, thus the jail cell. It’s the only time I have ever been the guest of a county sheriff, or of any law enforcement authority. At 7 a.m., the sheriff himself unlocked the cell and wished me well. I got the remaining food out of the cooler in the car, locked it again and hitched my own ride back to Bangor. I called my cousin in Orono and got him to take me tot he bank, then to Skowhegan, where I then gassed up the car and caravaned with him back to Bangor. (As it happened, Monday was bright and sunny, and I had been expected at work. A call from the pay phone outside the sheriff’s office cleared that up.)

I thought, long and hard, that night, about the man I’d become: Unmoored, in a no-win job situation, and with little to show for my twenty-seven years. I shortly afterward entered a Master’s program, at the University of Maine. I would not take more than three courses, in the time I had left, but it was a jump forward and I showed myself that there was hope for the future. In June, 1980, my Master’s program re-started, at Northern Arizona University, and I made good.

A footnote: Cleaning out my LTD, on Monday afternoon after the debacle, I found the wallet of one of the ladies, and drove it up to her dorm in Orono. She wasn’t in, which was just as well, so I left it with her roommate, who had heard all the grisly details and was understandably frosty. I only hope the lives of those three women have gone much better, since that night.

Anticipatory Memories III

0
Posted by on in Assistance, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 22, 2024- I was sitting on my bed, in a room for married students, at Northern Arizona University, Flagstaff. It was a Sunday morning, in 1986, and the two of us were planning our respective study days. We were both Graduate Students, I seeking my initial Master’s Degree and Penny, her second.

The analog phone rang and Penny answered. Mom was on the line and asked to speak to me. “Are you sitting down, Honey? Dad died this morning.” Just like that, my world joined hers, in collapse and disarray. I was, however, 35 years old and had to make some quick decisions with my wife of four years. After telling Mom that I would be in Saugus as quickly as possible, I made flight arrangements and packed. Penny would be unable to join me on the flight, as she had a major language exam, the following weekend. We went shopping for all that she would need while on her own, without a car. I then set out for Phoenix, and by midnight, EDT, I was across the country, in my childhood home, embracing my dear mother, then sleeping in my old bed.

The next morning, she told me that she had just been covered by a cold touch. She thought it was Dad. Having been visited by my maternal grandmother, shortly after her death, in 1960, I made sense of that. (I would later, as Penny was transitioning in 2011-, feel a full ectoplasmic presence in our bedroom, though she was in a hospice room, 20 miles to the northwest.) The departing reach out to their loved ones. (This afternoon, I heard two distinct whispers, while I was helping someone put a long folding table into a truck. The co-worker wasn’t whispering, and no one else was around. I have heard nothing further about Mom’s condition, but I am sure she is trying to communicate with me.)

Mom has always been direct with people; no mystery has ever existed, as to where one stands with Lila Mae. I could never even so much as fib to her, without her knowing exactly where the truth was being told and what part of my story was pure Blarney, or as she put it: “Bushwah”. At some very primitive level, that remains in her psyche, even in these last days. I would probably still be bopped upside the head, if I entertained an untoward thought.

When she thought we were being absurd, out came the Irish oath: “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” She would later say that she was merely praying,but there was no mistaking the message. Each of us was always expected to do better-and excuses were given no quarter, in my mother’s court. At the same time, when one of us did well, or had a hopeful development, there was no more exuberant cheerleader.

Tonalea

2
Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 27, 2024- “You don’t need to leave a tip. We didn’t really DO anything.” The cashier thus made her appeal to the dignity of one and all, as I paid for a couple bags of freshly ground coffee. I thought how refreshingly decent this woman is, and how sentiments like hers give the lie to the notion that Gen Z is collectively self-centered and always has its generational hand out. (The Greatest Generation, once upon a time, expressed similar sentiments about us then-youthful Boomers, but I digress.)

One of the bags was going to the old friend I was en route to visit, and to his family. C lost his wife of 40 + years, a few months back, and so I was heading up to Tonalea, to offer condolences and emotional support. The community’s name in the Dineh (Navajo) language, means, essentially, Red Lake. There is, in years of heavy winter and spring precipitation, an actual lake, off U.S. Hwy/160, on the community’s north side. This year, I saw no lake.

It was a smooth ride from Prescott to Flagstaff, where I bought the coffee from Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery, owned by another old friend. Traffic in and around Northern Arizona University reminds me a bit of Manila-everyone is doing their own thing, and gridlock is not altogether a rarity. My upbringing helps me transcend that, as a motorist here and as a pedestrian in my second favourite big city (after San Diego). Looking out for others makes for a longer journey, but for better self-esteem, at day’s end.

Driving from Flagstaff to Tonalea was even smoother. Dineh and Hopi people are quite orderly and civil, in their driving habits, and the area is sparsely polulated, to boot. As the two Elephant’s Feet (grey sandstone rock formations) looked on, from across the highway, I turned on the graded dirt road that winds around, towards Black Mesa, and reached C’s homestead, five miles inward. There he stood, as I arrived, at about the same time as planned.

C reminisced about his wedded life and what had led to his wife’s passing. Her suffering, it seemed, was mercifully short. We then talked of the connection between those of us in the flesh and our departed loved ones. Years ago, as Penny and I lay together, she told me she had seen my Penobscot ancestors standing over me, as I slept. I was not surprised by that. The ties that departed souls have to this world are very, very strong. Everything that has happened to me, both the serendipitous events that have transpired and my protection from malevolent forces, over the past thirteen years, or even before, has been due to those who have gone before me, and who make up a bulwark of energy that lets me do the bidding of the Divine.

After a two-hour visit, and my reassuring him that all will be well, even with the swirling changes that seem to bother him so, it was time for C to get back to tending to his family, working on his fences, and keeping livestock from eating his trees. It was also time for me to head back to Prescott, with a “halfway stop” at My Pita Wrap, a small Mediterranean restaurant on Flagstaff’s main drag. Going back up to Dinehtah, with its otherworldly rocks, grounded people and mystical energy, is always a reset for my own personal energy.

Sadratu’l- Muntaha

10
Posted by on in impediments, Personal Values, Striving

September 27, 2017, Prescott-

NOTE:  The title term refers to a tree, planted at a terminus of a road, in ancient Arabia.  It could signify either an ending or a beginning.

What, exactly, is a barrier?

Which is the beginning, and which, the ending?

I recall that every walk around Saugus began at our back door.

So, too, did every journey end there.

My formal education began in September, 1956, at the Felton School.

It ended in August, 1987, when I completed my administrative credential, at Northern Arizona University.

My time as a Roman Catholic began with my baptism.

It ended with my declaration as a member of the Baha’i Faith.

Now, I live in an apartment, in Prescott, Arizona; work as a teacher aide, at Prescott High School; am a devoted adherent to the Teachings of Baha’u’llah.

Do I still consider Saugus a place in my heart?

Am I still learning?

Do I still revere Jesus the Christ?

In each case, the answer will always be “Yes”.

Will I not again travel?

Will I close my mind to new ideas?

Will I turn aside from the Creator?

In each case, “No”.

What, exactly, is a barrier?

It occurs to me, that each barrier is a self-imposed ending.

 

The Road to 65, Mile 344: Small Circles

4
Posted by on in children, Education, Inner Struggles, Personal goals

November 7, 2015, Flagstaff- I rose early, for a Saturday, so as to get up  here to Northern Arizona University, and take two of the three exams I must take, in order to obtain certification as an elementary teacher (1-8), in Arizona.  I have several other certificates:  Secondary Teacher, Guidance Counselor and Principal.  The position I am now filling, as a substitute teacher, however, is not something I can continue to do, long term, without credentials.

I also think it is high time I moved through the self-doubt cloud, and showed my true abilities, both to myself and to the world at large.  My spirit guides keep saying, “This day of yours will not be followed by night.”  I know this means that the present opportunity will not be taken from me, by shallow politics or my own tendency to trip myself up.

This time, I will be okay, work-wise.  This time, I know how to navigate the small circle which runs the school.  In the past, I gave too much energy to my being an outsider.  That status might still be extant, but the children are who matter most.  I will be standing, at the end of the term, and at the end of the academic year.