Category Archives: Only the Long

Long Posts

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Who Will Survive Unscathed?

I just love it when a journalist tells it like it is… (see the link)

My favorite section was on the IRS and the difficult job they have.  Like any other government branch, the IRS is made up of humans and humans often make bad decisions, especially when there are new or complicated policies to manage.

What I find most odd about this latest round of “scandal” is the comparisons being made between President Obama and President Nixon. Nixon was a tightfisted president when it came to decision making and oversight. He trusted few.  Obama seems to trust many and seeks to let the professionals in each bureau run the day-to-day.  This is what causes him so many problems – he trusts people to do their jobs.

Mistakes happen in every administration, that is a given. There has never been nor will there ever be a “perfect” president, not even ole George Washington himself was without flaws. Sometimes mistakes get reported, sometimes they don’t, and in some cases mistakes are covered up – hopefully in all cases mistakes are motivators for change and better training.

Mistakes will happen but if WE THE PEOPLE keep going on witch hunts and continue on a path of losing faith every time someone makes a mistake – including the people in the Oval Office and in Congress – then WE THE PEOPLE will be making the biggest mistake of all. Our lack of faith in our system is the greatest threat to our nation! When bad things happen, when mistakes are made, and when threats are not halted at our borders, instead of rallying we gnash our teeth and rend our clothes in anger over our governments failure. But our government is of the people and by the people. People make mistakes  – some from good intentions and other from arrogance, but this is nothing new.  The only thing new is the speed and volume of information availability. Mistakes now become public fodder even before they are fully investigated. Human mistakes!

Just as the laws are made to protect the common man, those same laws protect the common man who works for the government whether they be elected, appointed, or hired by a bureaucratic supervisor. During a witch hunt, would you voluntarily give up your right to remain silent? So why then would you expect any public servant or employee to give up that same right? Instant news and the public outcry that follows instant news do not negate the right to a fair hearing.

Seeking change, disagreeing with policy, disliking personalities – these things may direct your voting choice but they should not cause you to distrust those who are elected, nor should they cause you to lose faith in the system. During the election cycle there is much complaint about mudslinging and the lack of truth, but where is the outrage and disgust over such underhanded politically motivated tactics during the non-election cycle (if there is such a period anymore)? Hiding political agendas and mudslinging behind demands for transparency and demands for instant details is appalling. Even when mistakes are less mistake and more intended actions, the rights of individuals and the protection of innocents must be considered. Even a witch hunt targeted at one, may cause unintended casualties and unintended consequences. People make up our government and their lives and their freedoms COUNT!

In the days of old, the witch hunt often targeted innocents, and just as often ended up targeting the very people responsible for the witch hunt’s origin. When January 2017 rolls around, who will have survived this latest witch hunt unscathed? Will it be WE THE PEOPLE or will WE perish due to our own mistakes rather than from those we perceive made by others?

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Patriots’ Day

If prior to today, I was aware of Patriots’ Day then I must have blocked it from my mind. However, the moment I mentioned to my husband that Patriots’ Day is on April 19, he immediately said that was the date of the Oklahoma City Bombing, eighteen years ago. He was in Turkey on TDY, I was in Colorado feeling very anxious for his safety until it was determined that it was an act of home-grown not foreign-born terrorism. Of course, words can’t even describe how we both felt when Columbine occurred just a few years later. We had small children by then, and Columbine was not far from my husband’s childhood home. It was too real.

You would think that the middle of April would stand out in my mind for something other than taxes, but honestly I just don’t remember from year to year how our worlds were shaken in April. Unlike 9/11, the date just never stuck, at least not for me. While my world had been rocked, it hadn’t been disrupted like in 2001.

But now the Patriots’ Day will be stuck in my mind, and not as a day celebrating a crusade for independence. For the longest time the Boston Marathon had been a dream of my mom’s. Every year when it was held, especially in the years since she passed away, I would smile and remember the summers in the late-70s when she logged hundreds of miles preparing for qualifier races. She eventually made it to New York and we ran that race together, but life got in the way of Boston.

It is strange how the mind deals with tragic events, sometimes keeping the moments clear and focused , while other times blurring the details and dates. Yet, in either case, when a new tragedy occurs the emotions come flooding to the surface, overwhelming the senses.

Patriots’ Day will no longer just be a day on the calendar, and the Boston Marathon will no longer just be a race. It is my prayer that our nation will rise again and take back our day – refuse to surrender it to those wishing to bring us down.

It is also my prayer that all those who have been directly affected by the tragedies, past and present, will find peace and feel the support of their nation behind them.

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Critical Thinking and Pleasant Articulation

In the attached article, a recently retired high school teacher explains the troubling trend in education because of the high focus on standardized tests. While he attributes the problems to the federal policies of the last decade, the focus on standardized tests is not new and the side effects were present even 20 years ago, just not a prevalent. In the 1991-2 school year, I tutored a college freshman who was failing her International Relations class. The problem, as it turned out, was that she had never taken essay style tests and had never been responsible for taking notes in class in preparation for an essay style test. Yet she had graduated with honors from one of the best high schools in the nation.

The concerning issue highlighted in this article is the notion of “bad writing” as a scheme to excel on rubric graded writing. I am seeing the results of this type of thinking in my husband’s undergraduate classes and my graduate classes (online education affords us the opportunity to evaluate the other student’s ability to write). I have even had one graduate level professor criticize my work (with rubric attached) highlighting the dysfunction of the system.  While I do not claim to be a literary genius, it is very disconcerting when a young professor is more concerned with checking boxes than with evaluating form and function. While more experienced professors seek a well-supported thesis, the younger ones are concerned more with whether every point of a lecture is covered, almost in bullet regurgitation in order to stay within a prescribed word count.

But this is not a completely new problem, just one more common as all facets of education require ease of grading.

Not all disciplines follow the same writing style and the variations can be troublesome for students who have not learned flexibility in writing. Many years ago a great conversation with a fellow student highlighted this point. She had received a poor grade on her paper and had been told to see mine for a comparison. She was appalled to find out that I had not followed the same essay format she had learned in high school English class. I explained that the standard essay she had learned under the strict tutelage of her high school instructor was not what our International Relations professor wanted us to write. He wanted us to write a critical essay highlighting what we THINK!  What a notion – someone not only asking us to think but asking us to write it down. Students need to practice multiple styles of writing in order to gain the comfort of flexibility.

Thinking and standardized tests can sometimes cause problems for students, as I have witnessed with one of my two teens. My son, a person who sometimes thinks too much, receives decent scores on standardized tests, but not the stellar scores his younger sister receives. The instructor in the Washington Post article mentioned some of his students had taken Algebra in eighth grade. My son was taking physics when he began taking his ACTs and had a real struggle with the math section. It had been too long since he had seen simple math problems. Once he pulled out his old books and spent some time reviewing the simple, his math scores came up to snuff.

My daughter’s experience with the testing is slightly different because she likes to avoid analyzing but loves data. She is my ultra-creative child who has a near perfect memory.

My goal has been to teach my children to think, analyze, and then think some more. This had not been an easy task. My dedication to this task has left my children less prepared for the standardized tests they are required to take in order to get into the schools of their choice, but it was a risk worth taking. In the long run test scores will do little for them, but critical thinking and pleasant articulation will serve them for a life time.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/answer-sheet/wp/2013/02/09/a-warning-to-college-profs-from-a-high-school-teacher/

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Joy to the World or Blue Christmas?

My Christmas Letter for 2012…

Christmas time can be a time of contradiction. Even while we celebrate the joys of the season, we often struggle with melancholy memories of days gone by, of family no longer with us, or of worldly troubles. This is not a new struggle, song writers have written many tunes of longing and wishes for family, home, and peace.

Traditions of the Christmas Season help us hold on to better times; times of our childhood before we became aware of the melancholy struggles so many face each year. Grandma’s chocolate chip cookies still are a prerequisite for me.  While grandma was still alive, I spent time learning to reproduce her cookie. After she passed on, I made it my goal to send cookies each Christmas to my grandfather and close family each year.

As a child, I was under the impression that my mother did not like frosted sugar cookies because she so seldom made them.  Actually she loved them; she just did not like to make the mess. As soon as I learned this, I added frosted sugar cookies to the list of must haves in the Christmas parcels. Just last night we, my husband, children and I, frosted the cookies. Rather than admit to having fun, the boys take the attitude of grouchy bears. It is funny how traditions start, even the tradition of acting grumpy while frosting cookies; a tradition started when mom was able to frost with more flare than dad. It is funny how a fake tantrum by dad years ago aimed at helping the kids accept their limitations has now become the tradition, at least for the men at the table.

Homemade jams and jellies were the constant in my childhood home. Even after my mom stopped making them, grandma kept us supplied. Gifts of jelly have saved many a Christmas when the pocket book was limited but the friends were abundant. Jalapeño Bread soon joined the jelly and is now a favorite as well. My son has taken over the making of the jelly and the bread, but soon his sister will need to step in and not long after that, mom will have to return as the Christmas head chef.

Life does not stand still, and Christmas time reflects the changes of time. Years ago we would send four or five boxes of goodies to family each Christmas, but now we only have one box to prepare. In what seems like a blink of an eye, the family has grown small. Death is part of life but so is marriage and children. One day the family will be back to growing rather than shrinking and Christmas packages will again be numerous.

I really look forward to the Christmases where little pajamas are made by grandma in addition to the adult sized ones being made by mom. These are the visions that dance though my head as I prepare for this Christmas. The dreams of the future coupled with memories of the past make Christmas my favorite time of the year.

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I would be remiss in my ramblings if I didn’t also include mention of the joys of Christmas present.  There is such a wonderful quality about the time spent with one’s children, time keeping up the traditions of their youth. Sewing the pajamas and Christmas clothing with your daughter or baking holiday treats with your son are truly blessed moments, but the best tradition is decorating the tree. Each year we gather together to unwrap the ornament collection, reminiscing on when each ornament was received and remarking on our favorites. Over the years the kids have grown older and taller and need no assistance reaching the highest branches. During this same passage of time, my husband and I have grown to resemble Mr. and Mrs. Clause a bit more. This was not my husband’s desire but a reality I don’t mind at all, at least not in December.  So in honor of our growing resemblance to the jolly North Pole couple, we (meaning me) have decided to begin sending Christmas greetings once again.

Our wish to you during this Christmas Season is that you will always find the comfort of the Savior in your lives, and that His presence will help you through the melancholy as well as the joys of life.

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Listen, Learn, and then Act

The compassionate being desires to assist, to ease another’s burden. While a compassionate nature may be natural for many, the compassionate course of action can still seem fraught with uncertainty.

Observation of another’s behavior or need is not enough. The compassionate being must look beyond the symptoms and try to discern the cause of the symptoms. Only when the cause is understood can one truly act in a manner that is both compassionate and helpful.

An example I like to share deals with fibromyalgia. Years ago after an auto accident derailed me from my regular exercise routine, I was determined to get back on track, but unfortunately every time I tried to return to a routine which included exercise I would get sick. All of my symptoms indicated I had the stomach flu. I was nauseated, had chills, and ached all over. Compounding these symptoms was the feeling that I had over-done my efforts, often due to muscle soreness similar to overuse. For nearly ten years I struggled with these symptoms. Diagnosis was a tremendous relief and required a big change. I had to rethink much of what I knew about pain. With fibromyalgia one must move through the pain, taking time off as with exercise injury pain was not the solution. The very treatment I was implementing before diagnosis was, in reality, making my situation worse.

Many of the symptoms we see exhibited by other struggling or suffering through life can be easily observed but also be easily misdiagnosed. If we truly wish to compassionately help others, we must take the time to understand rather than simply observe. Without the investment of time, we may, in our compassionate desire to help, actually hinder the person we wish to help. “It is the thought that counts,” may be true with holiday gift giving, but it is not necessarily true when we try to show compassion. Well-meaning comments, suggestions, and acts can truly make a struggle worse.

When compassion surfaces, take the time to listen and learn; ask in what way you can act. If time is a commodity of which you have little, consider charitable contributions to organizations dedicated to serving people in need. It is better than well-meaning acts of compassion which are misplaced because of misdiagnosis. The last thing you would wish to do in your effort to show compassion is to cause harm because you are interpreting the symptoms incorrectly. When the desire to show your compassion is strong but your time is limited, help those who are dedicated to helping. While nothing can replace the investment in friendship and time, economic contribution is certainly better than shuffling compassion aside.

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Saith Me… Old Books

Over the past couple of years, I started collecting old books, not books with great potential for monetary appreciation or the need for insurance policies.  Certainly not books to be kept behind the safety of glass, but books conveying the ideas of past generations on common subjects like knitting.  My collection began with an out-of-print sequel to a more famous literary novel.  The book was worn and tattered but satisfied the craving to know “what happened next.”

The ease in which this book was purchased made me curious to see what else I could find.  School books dating to 1900 led to the fascinating discovery that young women of that “new” century did not necessarily like the idea of home economics and needed encouragement through a form of literary fiction; the ancestor of the self-help TV programming.

Recently an online sale of old books caught my eye and I wondered if I could find some gems to help with a paper I am working on for class.  Justifying the purchase as an early Christmas present, I sifted and sorted (electronically of course) through the stacks of old books. When my purchases arrived I sorted them into the now and later stacks with the now joining me in my office for study.

One particularly delightful old book just begged for perusal and offered up a poignant quote, but the author had been hesitant to sign his name, making citation difficult. No author, no editor just a mysterious professional title. How very odd and rather mysterious (politically mysterious as it would turn out).

However it seems I was not the only one who had questioned this author’s identity.  In 1955 the book first left the original owner’s hands and a note had been written in the front cover explaining the personal, though cryptic inscription.  The author’s name was written by hand by the bookstore agent purchasing the book, along with a brief explanation of the book’s purchase. The book buyer also hand wrote the resale price of $.50, quite the sum I am sure.

Upon conducting a quick internet search, I verified the accuracy of the author’s name and thereby realized that my copy had been a gift from the author to some initialed friend.  In addition to being the author of multiple books on diplomacy, the mysterious man who published his first book anonymously had been a U.S. ambassador in the years that followed the publication.

Old books certainly have stories to tell.

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Compromise or Ripped Asunder

If only the issues could be boiled down into a meme or a sound-bite, the debate might be more civil. But what one sees as unconscionable another sees as freedom; what one sees as dependency another sees as progress. We are not the first generation to struggle over weighty issues, even the founding fathers ferociously disagreed and struggled for compromise.

When we develop passionate views on an issue, we need to remember that it was compromise that got us to this point in history and not the views of just a few. When compromise failed, however, war broke out. And of all presidents in the history of the U.S., even Lincoln, it can be argued that this president understands what is at stake. For when the nation divided the last time, it was over whether some should be free and some should not. But as all our presidents soon learn upon entering office, guaranteeing liberty is not always simple.

So be careful with your ideological wall building and chasm digging, for  history will judge whether your effort moved us forward or ripped us apart. If we allow the defense of our ideological views to destroy the very thing we say we want to preserve, then all our talk of posterity will be for naught.  What will be left for our children will be but a shadow of what we say we defend.Even now, our most precious resources are learning discord rather than compromise as they watch us disintegrate into a split nation and not a united one. So even if we survive this election battleground, what legacy are we leaving our children?  What will they remember and learn from our actions and opinions? This is what I ponder…

He is the President of the United States of America and the lack of respect he has been shown for his willingness to serve the people has been appalling and divisive.
History will not just judge him, but will also judge the people he has served.

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Why I write…

Why do we write in blogs, journals, or memoirs? Is it because we like to see our ideas take shape, or think our messages are profound or revolutionary? Or do we simply write with the hope that they will have value today or tomorrow, have value to or for someone we will probably never meet?

A few weeks ago, a professor asked the question of why should we study history, but the real question, for me at least, is why do we write history? Why do we write our own history in our blogs, journals, and memoirs, a written record of our thoughts and actions? I think we write for three reasons. The first, we hope we are interesting and hope our activities will be of interest to others. The second, we hope that by writing our experiences down, we will learn lessons from our experiences and maybe others will learn from us as well. Third, we do not want to forget our experiences or be forgotten.

These are all valid reasons to write, but a great man taught me one other reason to write. He taught me that we can serve others through our writing, through our research, and through our records. Not just through the lessons or experiences we share, but through the lives of others we preserve through written record.

This great man, great to me at least, passed away two days ago. He had dedicated his retired years to gathering and recording history; specifically the history of his ancestors. Through his work, volumes of information became available to his relatives and to the public. He was never famous and never sought fame, but in certain circles, he was well known and well loved. Most of the histories he wrote were the histories of others, but upon his family’s request he wrote of his own youth and of his experiences as a World War Two POW. When he wrote of his journey in life, it was not to gain fame or attention, but simply to leave a record; a humble record of a man who spent his life serving. Through his life, he served his family, his faith, and his nation.

He set the bar high for those of us who follow, but in doing so he taught us the value of service and the blessings that service brings to our fellow man, to our family, and to ourselves. For in blessing others, he was truly blessed; in loving others he was loved in return.

So why do I write, simply put, to emulate in my own way a great man – I write with an attempt to serve others.

A Great-Uncle and a Great Man!

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It isn’t a joking matter…

Presidents’ kids have a rough go of it, young or old, but the campaign family of the past was seen more than they were heard. If they could not advance the campaign, they stayed out of the campaign.

Tagg Romney’s comments go beyond “just being a son” and certainly beyond a “jest,” they play into the anger and frustration of a nation looking for someone to blame, to retaliate against for the suffering they feel. When we feel woe and strife, we tend to either hide or strike out. When the woe does not have a face attached, we look for a face to attach to it. This is the basic nature of the animal of man, to flee/hide or strike/attack. This campaign season highlights the very reality that man has not overcome his base instincts.

This is the nature of what Tagg Romney is expressing (even in jest), and the human nature he is pandering to in his comments. He has a right to “feel” and he has a right to “speak” but when he is part of the campaign, his feelings, if expressed, and his spoken words are part of the campaign. Bear in mind, Tagg Romney was born in 1970 and is old enough to run for president himself, so he is certainly accountable for the words he speaks, even under the pretense of a jest.

More importantly, Tagg Romney is part of his father’s circle and therefore his words are relevant to the campaign. A public representative, will be held accountable for their actions, and to some extent the actions of those in their circle.  After all the campaigning in which Mitt Romney has participated, he and his family should be aware that this is the reality.

I am disturbed that the Romney Clan has yet to understand this basic principle of campaign policy/strategy – what is spoken, joke, misspeak or open-mic, does matter to the public.  We see it as a peek inside the “real” person, whether it is or not.

The president, upon taking the oath of office, will no longer be the common man*, but will be held to a higher standard than the people he serves. The president does not need to be perfect, but he does need to understand the scrutiny will not ease up and the standards will always be high. If he, and his family, cannot handle this pressure in the campaign, they will implode when he is in the White House.  And that would not be a joking matter.

* or common woman

Tagg Romney’s apology

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Embracing Identity Through The Written Word

To most of the world, my son seems sullen and distant, but he deeply loves mankind and mourns for their troubles. His sullen appearance is just the outward refection of his deep concerns for the sorrows of man and his passionate desire to assist the downtrodden.

To most of the world, my daughter is sweet and domestic, but she is the ferocious defender the weak. If there is a crusade to join, an injustice to correct, my daughter’s dimples and giggles are quickly replaced by a threatening growl and a merciless strike.

The world seldom sees my children’s true nature, for in their youth they still hide their identity, feeling it offers them protection.  But every so often they let down their guard and the world sees their nature. Often it is through their writings.

Teaching my children to write has been my goal, not simply for the normal communication reasons, but because writing is an outlet for them to freely express their nature. My son has learned to share ideas, life lessons, and words of compassion through writing. My daughter has learned to replace her fists with words. They are young and their skills are still in need of refining, but when their causes are just, their skills show a refinement beyond their age.

My job has not been to give them an identity, but allow them to find and embrace their own.  This week they have both proven they have learned from me, but are not restricted by me. This makes me at peace.