<![CDATA[reflections on life]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840 http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss sparrowsfall@mac.com © mike baker Sun, 05 Feb 2006 08:22:07 -0600 Fri, 10 Feb 2006 03:49:39 -0600 iBlog 1.4.5 <![CDATA[Revival Time! ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060205081844/index.html Just over forty-five years ago my brother, who was several years older than I, came home quite excited one night. He and some of his friends had attended a revival that was taking place in a church we did not attend. He told about the inspiring evangelist who was holding the revival and how he seemed to electrify the congregation that evening.

The next night my parents and I went to see what had my brother so excited. We discovered that his description didn't do justice to the evangelist. Dr. Braxton B. Sawyer was an "old-time preacher" from Fort Smith, Arkansas. While traveling about holding revivals he also produced a daily radio program entitled "Back to the Bible." And did he practice what he preached!

I know this, because over the next three years we became well-acquainted with Dr. Sawyer. My brother and his best friend travelled the next two summers with Dr. Sawyer as he held his large revival meetings in Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma and Arkansas. My family attended many distant revivals, as that was the only way we could see my brother often. Dr. Sawyer had the ability to pack a house for his two week long revivals. In many situations he had to install speakers on the outside of the church for the overflow crowds that sat on the lawn or in their cars. Sometimes the service would last past midnight. No one seemed to mind. Often as the hours grew late we would sing again and again his favorite hymn, "Amazing Grace". He would let it go unaltered the first time through and then would ask us to sing it again changing one word. He'd say sing, "When we've been there ten million years" instead of the written, "ten thousand years." In the eternity of Christianity he said, there is not time.

How often I have thought of that simple change in the wording and his statement of timelessness. Today I know that time seems to make constraints on we mortals. But within time, I know that only this moment counts. This moment as you are reading these words. This moment. Now. This counts. Therefore what I write in this moment, and how you reflect on my words, is important. Now. What we think, how we act, what we do in this moment is important. Nothing is more important than how we live this moment.

Recently a friend stated that a person had said to him, "I don't get mad, I get even." I've heard that expression all of my life and quite honestly I find it to be a childish, immature saying. But I have tried to understand the statement from the viewpoint of an adult. I wish that I could be like the person in the first sentence. I wish that as a mere mortal human being I could say that I don't get mad. Like the ancient Greek philosopher who spent his days trying to find an honest man, I wish I could find the mortal who truly never gets mad. I remember Dr. Sawyer preaching about Jesus when he entered the temple and encountered the money changers. Now the way Dr. Sawyer told that story as he read the scripture you have the picture in your mind of an angry man. He threw over the tables in a rage. So the person who professed recently to never get mad must have a quality that others fail to possess. We might be envious of the one among us who doesn't ever get mad.

But I don't envy the person in the second sentence. Get even with whom? Someone else? That's sad. No. That's pathetic. I am a mere mortal. I get mad occasionally. I don't find pride in that, but I do get mad. however, I have learned that when I get mad, it is time for me to examine my life to see if there isn't something I might be "mad" at myself for. Some failing on my part. Something done, something undone. Something said, something unsaid.

And, if I can be honest with myself and I find where I need to amend my life, I must have the character to make a revival happen within me. Nothing else will bring me a victory greater than when I can life myself up to the higher ground where we all should hope to be. As my family and I have been angered and hurt in recent months, through self-examination, we came to the understanding that we had to turn our anger into joy and our hurt into compassion. We had to return joy to others instead of anger. We had to return compassion to others instead of hurtful words. We must reach out with love so that in this moment that we have together, each of us will know that "we'll have no less days" to sing praise to those around us.

Let us all do the small act, speak the kind word, perform the unnoticeable deed so that our community can be a place of peace and comfort to all. Remember the importance of this moment.


(written June, 1999)  ]]> Sun, 05 Feb 2006 08:18:44 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060205081844/index.html <![CDATA[Cleaning out the closet ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060205080114/index.html When I was five years old my parents purchased their first house. I am sure that it must have been a disgrace to the neighborhood. But with time my father completely renovated the house and created a very comfortable place for us to live.

We remained there until I was in the ninth grade. We then were somewhat like the family in The Jeffersons, the old television sitcom, because with the sale of their first house we were "movin' on up."

The next house looked great from the outside and was very well built. But it had been unoccupied for several years and was much in need of TLC. Due to circumstances we had to move before all of the interior work could be completed. When school was out in May, I found myself with a full time job!

My father taught me how to remove wallpaper. I spend most of the summer removing all of the wall coverings in the three upstairs bedrooms.

When I grew tired of that hot job, I would work on cleaning out the closets. The auctioneers who had sold the furnishings of the house prior to our purchase, close to leave all of the items in the closets. My room alone had four closets.

In addition to closets in each bedroom, the house boasted of a large attic closet. According to the architect's plans which I discovered in one of my closets, the attic closet was intended to have been completed as a fourth upstairs bedroom or sitting room.

My father told me to take items to throw away to an east window in one of the bedrooms. Just throw everything our the window, he said. When I thought the pile looked large enough, I was to go out in the yard and then carry everything to the large barbecue and place things that would burn in it. That barbecue was fantastic. It had a stove top upon which you could cook with six different pots, pans, and skillets, while at the same time baking in a double oven. It held lots of trash, and firewood!

When I finally reached the attic closet I found treasures. Stored there were hundreds of magazines which dated back to the early 1930's. My work slowed considerable, almost to a halt. There were so many to look at. I found it difficult to throw them away. I would love to see them today. From a cultural point of view, I know they would be of value.

But cleaning out the closet was my job. I fulfilled it. Every now and then we all have that task. Diana and I do that continually. Diana has a requirement of me. if I don't sue it, wear it, or need it-it goes!

There is one exception to that however. I have hundreds of paintings and drawings. There is not enough wall space to hang all of them. Therefore we have many of them stored in a large closet. Once in a while we trade out some that are stored for some which are on display.

While at The Star I followed the development of the John D. Smith Library. The Friends of the Library requested donations of cash or items which might be of use in the library. This request coincided with our trading our of art. I contacted the Friends and asked if they might be interested in any art work.

I told the individual that I had found some paintings in "the closet" which I thought would be appropriate for their consideration. I had one painting which I did desire to donate, but I would allow them to see the others as well.

She asked that I bring the art work by for the committee to see. She called later to tell me that the committee was excited by the paintings of El Dorado Springs' historic buildings and that they wanted all of them. I was humbled and honored by their request.

The one that had particular significance to me is entitled Early Morning at the Picnic. It is hung in honor of my father-in-law. As the Picnic rides began to arrive in town during the last summer that he was alive, Diana and i would tell him each day about them. By Wednesday a huge ride had been set up in front of the United Methodist Church. I knew he would like it. We felt that he might like to "sneak out" to see it. So we waited until Diana's mother went to the beauty shop and then we went to the house. Diana went in and asked him if he would like to drive through the Picnic with me, he immediately reached for his shoes. I drove him down to the Picnic.

I was taking him back home when I turned a corner and we met my mother-in-law. Whoops! We got caught! He and I looked at each other and his dark eyes glistened; we both waved at her! What else was there to do?

Though the Picnic painting had been in a closet for a while, to me it is a treasure, for the gift of that painting is my weak attempt to honor my father-in-law and the joy he felt that Picnic afternoon. Our time together, however, is my greatest treasure.
 


 


(written September, 1999) 
]]> Sat, 04 Feb 2006 08:01:14 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060205080114/index.html <![CDATA[The Fame Of What Is Bad ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060203225257/index.html As a freshman in high school conformity was highly important. At the time I was unaware that I was conforming to peer pressure, I was sure that I was just doing what I wanted to do. The music I listened to, the clothes I chose to wear, those were my choices. Today, of course, I know that I was simply fitting in, being part of the group, seeking acceptance.

There were three couples in the crowd I ran with. We were all steadies. Jerry, Rick and I would not have been caught at school wearing anything but Levi's. The most important feature of the Levi's was the roll on the leg. It took a long time to roll each leg in a very tiny fold. You had to have your shirt collar turned up and never would we have forgotten to roll our short sleeves up-very carefully.

Another rage was polished cotton slacks. Particularly, black in color with a tiny belt at the center of the back. (What was that for?) And v-neck sweaters were quite popular.

Carolyn, Linda and Janet conformed with mid-calf skirts with lots of petty coats. Saddle oxfords and heavy white bobby socks completed their attire.

The six of us had a lot of fun together that year. If there wasn't an event to attend or a holiday in the month (January is a real drag), we created a special occasion so that we could have a party. Most of the parties took place at Janet's house--she was my steady girl. For these parties we had matching outfits. They boys wore their black polished slacks with white shirts under our red v-neck sweaters. The girls dressed identically with the exception of their black polished cotton skirts.

We conformed, but we said it was "our idea." We had a lot of fun. After our freshman year we went our separate ways. But in our junior year and again as senior we all went to the Prom together. We stayed until midnight our junior year. We had heard that a new restaurant in Joplin was open very late and was serving Italian food. Some in the group had heard that they had pizza. I did not even know what pizza was. Was it delicious that first time I had it! That mozzarella cheese was strange. I'd never tasted it before.

We left the prom early our senior year and went to the 66 Drive-In in Carthage. It was a cold night and the heater managed to fog the windows in the car. With six of us packed in my parent's 56 Mercury it soon became impossible to view the movie. It didn't matter, there was lost of joking and laughter. I believe we all understood that this was the last time we would be together. It was our final opportunity to recall that freshman year, the good times, the learning together. We would someday reflect on Elvis Presley and his memorable music, on Ricky Nelson and the innocence of his youth. The tragic direction that their lives would take and their deaths were unknown to us at that time.

Conformists? Yes we were. Why? We learn to conform in order to protect ourselves. To stand with your own opinion can be a frightening thing-downright dangerous at times. In a positive sense, we must conform in order to accomplish things for the good of all. There's nothing wrong in that. It is necessary. Therefore, peer pressure is good for it teaches us to become discerning individuals. It sharpens our skills in discrimination. We become better at evaluating situations. We lean to make decisions. So from a positive viewpoint peer pressure in high school should have a beneficial outcome.

For some, however, those who fail to see its benefits, it has negative consequences. They become sheep, they learn to simply follow the crowd. They become afraid to act on their own. They become afraid of having any opinion except that expressed by others. They have failed to understand that those things which we did like everyone else in high school, were not always the best things to do, that the other person does not always have the right opinion.

Recently while reading I came across a passage that reminded me of the importance of drawing conclusions from my experiences, of the importance of deciding what I should thing and do based upon my decisions-decisions made after I carefully discerned all the information. In Arthur Schopenhauer's second volume of The World as Will and Representation he writes:

Ordinary minds show, even in the smallest affairs, a want of confidence in their own judgment, just because they know from experience that it is of no use to them. With them prejudice and following the judgment of others take its place. In this way they are kept in a state of permanent nonage (immaturity), from which scarcely one in many hundreds is emancipated. Naturally this is not avowed, for even to themselves they seem to judge; yet all the time they are casting a furtive glance at the opinion of others, which remains their secret point of direction. While any of them would be ashamed to go about in a borrowed coat, hat , or cloak, none of them has anything but borrowed opinions which they eagerly scrape up wherever they can get possession of them; and then they proudly strut around with them, giving them out as their own. Others in turn borrow these opinions from them, and do just the same with them, and do just the same with them. This explains the rapid and wide dissemination of errors, as well as the fame of what is bad. For the professional purveyors of opinion, such as journalists and the like, as a rule give out only false goods, just as those who are hire out fancy dresses give only false jewelry.

As adults we must put aside our childish ways. We must evaluate the statements of others. We must become discerning individuals. We read in Paul's letters to the Corinthians: When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

To avoid being a part of the fame of what is bad, we must put away childish understanding, we must become discerning and seek truth. We must not be purveyors of borrowed opinions. As high school students there was a childish innocence in having borrowed opinions, but as adults there is a certain danger.


(written 1999)  ]]> Fri, 03 Feb 2006 22:52:57 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060203225257/index.html <![CDATA[Back in the saddle again! ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060202190741/index.html Saturday afternoon in the early 1950's was a treasured time for me as a youngster. For one beautiful, thin dime my friends and I could attend the afternoon cowboy festival at the local movie theater. There you could see the latest episode of the serialized science fiction story, several cartoon features and then the cowboy movie of the week.

There was Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, Gene Autrey and Andy Devine, Poncho and Cisco, "Hoppy" Cassidy and others who brought us a little drama, a lot of humor and a good dose of values.

Once Andy Devine appeared at the Broadway Market for an autograph session. We got a lot of this type of Hollywood celebrity as Mr. Autrey's press agent had a home in our area as well as in California.

I recall meeting Mr. Devine, and thinking that he seemed like a "real person." As a child I had expected people whom we see on the screen to be somehow different from the rest of us. After he signed my autograph book and I walked away, I felt somewhat cheated, because he was just like the other adults around me.

As time went by and I collected other autographs of actors and actresses, I would look back at the previous signatures and I began to realize that they all had the same thing in common. They all shared the same human qualities that I possessed. They simply seemed larger, because they were on the silver screen.

But they did have something that "the rest of us" were lacking. They had the opportunity, due to the profession that they found themselves in to impact the lives of many people. They had the ability to teach values which could shape our future.

All of these movies have a common theme for me, community unity. As I look back at the stories I recall that they had a somewhat stock story line. There was the bad guy who was disrupting the community life in some way. It would be up to our good guys to stand up to the bad guy(s) and help them understand that you just "don't do that in these here parts!"

But while they were out trying to stop the bad guy, they had a little fun along the way. Some clean joking, some rib-poking humor, etc. Life wasn't always serious, even when things seemed difficult.

That interjection of humor in those movies was important, I believe. It imprinted all of the young minds in the audience with the understanding that we must learn to laugh at ourselves. We must accept that we all do foolish things, and that often our actions are downright funny if we're not worried about some fictitious facade that we have created and therefore must "protect," less others discover that we are just as human as they.

Recently I have been relearning the lesson about myself. I have a small microwave oven in my home office. I sue it to do two things. I fix my tea in it. It takes three and one half minutes and then I can have a relaxing cup of my favorite green tea.

I also use it to heat a snack cake. In only fifteen seconds I can have a great cherry strudel to eat. It is delicious. However, being human, I seem to forget which I have in the oven. Twice in the last week I have popped in my strudel cake and set the timer for three and one half minutes! Well, it gets hot! And it sure brings deCoucy into the office in a hurry! But what I have prepared is a concrete block! Sorry deCoucy, I just don't think you would enjoy it. In the first place it won't cool for at least fifteen minutes.

What can I do but laugh at myself. I am reminded that I am simple a human, prone to the same errors which all humans are prone to make. I could say that hot was hot, and let it go at that, but really a good laugh is better for the soul. After all, tea is not strudel, there is a difference between the two, just as different as morning and evening, so I guess hot is not hot either. I made a mistake.
After doing this the second time Diana asked, "How are we going to help you not do this again?" I stapled a big note to the strudel cake box. It says "15 seconds!" Maybe that will help me out.

Along with the humor in the cowboy movies, there was the serious matter of community unity. I believe that there was a definite value lesson being taught to each young viewer. Quite often they did not simply go out to arrest the "bad guy," this might happen only after they had tired to reason with him; after they had tried to help him see the error that he was making; after they had tried to influence him and encourage him to do the right thing.

They were teaching that in a small community we must work together in order to protect our social environment. It is our duty to preserve a social climate where all can work and live together in peace. In that way we can each profit and grow.

They were teaching that in a community such as ours we must do those things which enhance the social environment and add quality to each life in the town. Gene Autrey emphasized this in his theme song as he sang that he was "back in the saddle again, out where a friend is a friend ..." That's what community is all about, working together so that friends can be friends. There are some things that "you just don't do in there here parts, partner!"



(written August, 1999)  ]]> Thu, 02 Feb 2006 19:07:41 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060202190741/index.html <![CDATA[One Person With Courage ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060201222609/index.html Formal education for me began in 1948. That process continued until 1966. All during those years I was taught that one should use the masculine case in phrases such as, "All good men should come to the aid of their country."

That was prior to the 1970's. With raised consciousness, American's began struggling with the sexual inequalities which still existed in our country. It was at this time that it became increasingly inappropriate to use the masculine case.

In the past twenty-five years we have adopted many changes. No longer do we have waitresses; we now have wait persons. Stewardesses became partners with Stewards and now both are know as Flight Attendants. In most businesses secretaries are now assistants.

All of this seems to be our attempt to appropriately and specifically identify men and women in the workplace and in society. And that is good.

But from the position of a teacher of English for nearly 29 years, there is one area where we have not resolved the changes. Back in the "old days" we were taught to use the masculine gender. Always use he when referring to both men and women. Always use men
\f0\i0 when making reference to both sexes. Remember "All men are created equal"?

And what about pronouns used in place of the masculine noun? In the 70's the difficulty began. Instead of he some began writing he and she. Others were concerned about placing he first and turned it around to she and he. Some writers have dropped he and replaced it with she.

I decided on this form: s/he. I see it in many publications. It seems to be appropriate and non-offensive.

Ours is a language which is alive and vigorous. Someday we will come to a solution and this awkward transition in our language will be in the past.

That is the reason the title of this Reflections! uses person. In my office I have the quotation, "One man with courage is a majority." I don't know who originally said that, but I know that it is true.

So I have updated it to "One person with courage is a majority." That person can be of either sex. Consider just two examples of people who exhibited courage.

Rosa Lee Parks, an African-American civil right activist triggered the boycott of the Montgomery, Alabama bus system. You will recall that she refused to give up her seat to a white passenger on a bus on her trip home from work one day in 1955. She broke the law which required black citizens to give up their seats in their half of the bus if all white seats had been occupied. Her action helped bring about the civil rights movement in the United States.

Mahatma Gandhi won freedom for India in the 1040's. He preached nonviolence in his long campaign for freedom and social reform. He was arrested numerous times and imprisoned for his courageous actions.

What motivated these two individuals and countless others like them to act with extreme courage? Did they stand against wrongs simply for self-dignity?

What occurs in people such as these is the understanding of universal, important truths. With this understanding they see the need for the eradication of great errors. Not wrongs directed solely against them, but rather violations of universal truths directed against a whole body of people.

These people spark the imagination of others. They are the light which reveals the suffering of people, a suffering that violates decency and subjugates people to an intolerable existence. They saw a person or a system oppressing others, so that the oppressor(s) could live as they chose.

In some cases the oppressors have been wicked. They perceive that the distinction between themselves and others is a great gulf. They cannot see the suffering endured by the oppressed. They cannot understand the pain they inflict. They cannot know the nature of their own wickedness. Therefore their oppressive actions grow more intolerable until one day, one person with courage
\f0\i0 stands and declares, "No more."

This person's courage is born from compassion, not from revenge or retaliation. They have long witnessed the suffering inflicted upon others. They feel the hurt, the pain which others have endured. While they themselves have also suffered, their courage comes when they see that others have suffered more greatly than they, and for those they stand with courage.

One man, one woman with courage is a majority. One with courage challenges the oppressor. One with courage lights the lamp of change.


(written September, 1999)  ]]> Wed, 01 Feb 2006 22:26:09 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060201222609/index.html <![CDATA[Going to court ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060131173112/index.html Several years ago I was a participant in a capital murder case. The process by which that case was finally brought to trial exhibits the importance of the court and jury system to each of us.

The defendant in that was was a suspect for several months. The individual had been watched by detectives, had been questioned by them on three separate occasions. Finally they submitted their reports and the district attorney felt that there was sufficient evidence for an arrest.

One the arrest was made both the prosecution and defense teams began gathering information and contacting potential witnesses. This process took over three years. Private investigators for each side traveled thousands of miles across the country interviewing those who might bring testimony which could be used for or against the defendant.

While this was going on many motions were made before the judge to get the charges dismissed against the defendant and motions were made by the district attorney to speed up the prosecution of the charges.

When the case came to court a jury was chosen, a lengthy process in itself due to the wide knowledge of the case. The trial began and it lasted over two months.

The jury deliberated for several days before handing down a guilty plea. Once that plea was in the judge set a date for the sentencing phase of the trial.

In this portion of the trial, during which I testified, the jury considered the pleas of both the defense and prosecution regarding the ultimate fate of the convicted defendant. They heard many family members of the victims, from experts in various fields, and from family and friends of the defendant. Then they deliberated. Their decision was probably the only one that could have been expected in this case even thought it was not the one that the defendant's family and friends would have chosen. But I believe that this case was carefully prepared and carefully brought to its final conclusion.

Trials such as the one briefly described help us understand the importance of America's court system and the legal procedures which are in place. We often joke about lawyers and the fact that they are the only ones who win in a legal actions. But because of the process we, the accused, are offered the best opportunity to defend ourselves against the accuser.

Imagine a different type of court system and then decide which you prefer. Let's assume that this court system is held in the media. Here the person who decides to bring changes against us is known as Nameless Accuser.

Nameless Accuser can bring charges before the public against U. R. Guilty at any time he chooses. He does this through the media--his court. The interesting thing about this court is that in it Nameless Accuser is the prosecutor, the judge and the jury. He decides the verdict; he decides your guile; he decides your sentence.

Since his case is presented through the media, you are allowed no defense; you are not allowed to respond to the charges; you are allowed no witnesses; you are never allowed to question Nameless Accuser. Of course that would be impossible since he shields his identity behind the hood of anonymity so that he never must face U. R. Guilty.

Nameless Accuser is always protected. Nameless Accuser is guaranteed the right to continue to bring charges against any U. R. Guilty which he selects to prosecute. You never know whom he will be watching; you simply know he is out there preparing his next case--a case which always concludes with a guilty verdict.

Imagine how you would feel when the charges were leveled against you for all of your peers to know. Imagine the sense of shock when you were singled out for no apparent reason. Imagine the disbelief when your sentence was to "...leave town." But you had no opportunity to speak in Nameless Accuser's court. It is his court and you are guilty as charged and sentenced as he chooses.

Which court system do you prefer? One assures you of the opportunity of a proper defense, methodically prepared. The other allows prosecution, trial, verdict and sentence to be completed by nameless accuser; affords you no defense, denies you the right of facing your accuser; denies you the right to ask questions of the accuser; denies you the right to offer witness in you defense.

Which system would you prefer to use if charges were made against you and you had to go to court?


(written July, 1999)  ]]> Tue, 31 Jan 2006 17:31:12 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060131173112/index.html <![CDATA[Being part of the solution . . . ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060130164216/index.html During the early 1950's my youth group at church would often sing these words from a song in our hymnal:


Brighten the corner where you are,
Brighten the corner where you are.
Someone far from harbor you may
Lead cross the bar.
Brighten the corner where you are.


These words have come to mind many times in the nearly fifty years since I first sang them.

It is not an easy thing for us to be the light which guides others. often our light shines dimly and insufficiently even to light our own way, let alone that of others.

I am sure that the author of those words found inspiration in Matthew 5:15 which reads, "Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds..."

A celebration of good deeds was the purpose of a gathering of teenagers in a Fort Worth, Texas Baptist church last Wednesday.* In a bizarre, mindless massacre several of them were gunned down.

Youth who had participated in their gathering around the flag pole earlier that day, met together to hear a Christian rock group perform and focus on positive actions and express their faith. Some of them did not leave that service on September 15, but their spirit, their courage is alive and strong today.

From them we have a lesson which must be brought to life today in each of our lives. There lives are the light that has been sent to brighten our lives. Their deeds are our guide.

On Friday, September 17, students at Fort Worth's Brewer High School held a special assembly honoring those who were slain. Jered Gabbert a senior class officer was among several students who stayed up most of the previous night putting the program together.

While discussing the assembly program, Gabbert said, "As long as we can stick together and be friends, there's always good that comes out of bad."

Wisdom from a seventeen year old. Good can always come out of bad. Yes, it can when we look for it. It is there.

On Saturday a minister visited the freshman football player who survived his gunshot wounds but is not paralyzed. He related that as he looked into the eyes of that boy he saw only love and forgiveness.

Love and forgiveness shone forth, even through a senseless action has altered his entire life and ended that of fellow high school students.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, "Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just the first step." On Friday at the Brewer High School assembly the student body took the first step in faith. They signed pledges that they would be "part of the solution and not part of the problem." They pledged that they would return love with hate; they would return compassion for suffering. They pledged to be part of the solution that America is seeking. They pledged that they wold make a positive difference.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." Margaret Mead penned that thought. Those Brewer High School students are a small group of high school students, thoughtful world citizens.

Their peers in Littleton, Colorado signed a similar pledge at Columbine High School last spring when their classmates were slaughtered on April 21. Are we learning the lesson that these young people are teaching?

A pledge to work together to end senseless actions. We have not had a tragedy in our community such as has happened in cities across our country during the last nine months. We are thankful for that. But we have witnessed the grief so many have felt, our hearts have been opened to those who have suffered.

I believe we must reflect on all of this very carefully. Two issues, the need for additional classroom space and the school resource officer, have been the focus of news reporting in the past year. Both issues center on youth-on their education today; on their productivity and good citizens in the future.

In both of these considerations we seemed to have become confused. In regard to the facility needs, month after month derogatory statements have been made about our superintendent of schools, our school board president and other board members. Their characters have been discredited. They have become the issue. We seemed to have forgotten that what we were called to consider was the well-being of our youth.

The discussion was about providing adequate facilities for their education. How did the focus get shifted to individuals? It isn't about individuals. It is about facility needs.

Brigham Young said, "We should never permit ourselves to do anything that we are not willing to see our children do." Do we wish the youth of this community to shamelessly ridicule each other, as we have shamelessly ridiculed out adult peers?

By doing this, we are part of the problem. By tolerating this week after week, month after month, you and I are part of the problem. By allowing this we have escalated the problem. We are responsible.

Jered Gabbert said we have to stick together, we have to be friends. Do we have the courage to brighten our corner? Can we make a pledge to be part of the solution in El Dorado Springs? Can we light the lamp of change?



(written ca. September 18, 1999)

______________
*At Wedgworth Baptist Church, September 15, 1999. N.B.  ]]> Mon, 30 Jan 2006 16:42:16 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060130164216/index.html <![CDATA[Words on paper ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060129073711/index.html Among the classes I taught at Humansville High School in the early 70's was one entitled Mass Media.

The students in the class studied the media in America with the focus on understanding how it impacts our daily lives. We had a test that included many examples of writings from various news sources including print and electronic media.

One unit specifically drew our attention to the ways news can be slanted. They gave two reported accounts of the Chicago Democratic Convention of 1968 which had appeared in national weekly news magazines. The comparison was intended to demonstrate how the exact same event can be slanted to accomplish an editorial point of view.

I was attending a night class at SMSU at that time and as I drove to class I had the idea that I could go to the university library and obtain copies of those actual articles so that my students could see the full reports.

I was able to locate the articles, but was unprepared for the surprise I discovered. As I read through one of the articles I discovered what I believed was a discrepancy between the actual report and the reprinting of it in our textbook.

Returning to class the next day, we compared the two and discovered that the editors of our textbook had omitted two sentences from a paragraph in the report from one magazine in order to get it to fit the needs of their comparison. In other words, they had slanted their re-presentation of this news article to full fill their purpose in teaching slanted news reporting!

My desire to find the original articles yielded much more than I had intended. My students and I learned that even text editors can alter documents in order to teach a particular point of view. That lesson took me to original sources many times during the next twenty-five years of my teaching career. I often found slight distortions, but never so great as in that original experience.

During the time that I reported for The Star I was constantly mindful of how easy it was to slant a news report of the El Dorado Springs City Council or the R-2 Board of Education. Being human I certainly had my point of view and found it critically difficult to refrain from slanting a news report to fit that viewpoint. How is that done by a reporter?

If you use direct quotations you have the power to create a totally different impression to the reader. By quoting some statements by an elected official and omitting others, you may completely alter the appearance of his or her position. Or you can quote only part of a full statement. By omitting some of the stated position you can give an entirely different impression to the reader.

Other techniques can be employed. But the lesson is that just because a report appears in the newspaper, you can not always rely on it for accuracy. "The Power of Writing" appeared in the August 1999 issue of National Geographic magazine.

Joel L. Swerdlow states that "No other invention-perhaps only the wheel comes close-has had a longer and greater impact." He explains that "Much of writing's power comes from its flexibility." Perhaps its greatest power is "its ability to move hearts and minds."

Often Mae would have something that needed to be stated "carefully" in the paper and she would say "Mike, you write this, you're the word man."

I would almost cringe. The word man. That translated to me as an important assignment. As the word man I possessed power. How I put those words together would influence how our readers thought with regard to the subject being written about. The writer in the news media can have a great influence over readers. Swerdlow states that "Joseph Stalin, who ruled the Soviet Union from 1928 to 1953, was a master of using writing to control people."

If you believe all that is written in the media, if you have never learned to question the printed word, you an be easily controlled by the editorial viewpoint of a publication. That was the reason that I often struggles with the manner by which I reported the public meetings which I attended. I knew that I had the power to cause readers to believe anything that I printed.

In the article in the Geographic Wei Jingsheng, who was imprisoned by Chinese authorities for 18 years simply because he wrote essays arguing for democracy, tells how, after he was given writing materials to compose letters to family members (letters which were never delivered), he "thought about a letter for a week before writing anything. It's something that you must do even if you do not have the leisure of being in prison. To write, you must work methodically, forming your thoughts and prompting other people to think as they read. Writing requires work at both ends. That's what makes it special."

We must form our thoughts carefully and prompt other people to think as they read. Words on paper are special. Words on paper are powerful and require a just person to work at both ends of writing.


(written October, 1999)  ]]> Sun, 29 Jan 2006 07:37:11 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060129073711/index.html <![CDATA[Leaving Town ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060128153745/index.html When I was two years of age my parents left Kansas City and moved to southwest Missouri. They had many ties to Kansas City, which had been my father's home for a number of years, so we often returned to see family and friends.

Occasionally my father worked there and my mother and I would travel to see him. We most generally rode the Kansas City Southern Belle. I was fascinated by the train and hardly ever took my eyes away from the passing scenery. One distinct memory I have is of a beaver building a dam in a stream that ran parallel to the railway track.

Having read about beavers at school I could hardly believe that I had actually seen one at work creating its natural art form.

Perhaps man cannot outdo the wonder of a beaver dam, by the magnificent structure created by mankind in Kansas City known as Union Depot awed me throughout my childhood. I recall the smells as we disembarked from the train and the sounds of the Red Caps calling people to board departing trains. I can feel the texture of the long seats in the waiting room where we would sit until friends came to pick us up.

Those were special days of travel in our country which I later wanted our son to experience. The summer he was eight years old El Dorado Springs endured unusually hot temperatures. As the heat wave continued day after day, I came up with an idea during a hot sleepless night.

When Diana awakened I told her we were going to leave town. She wanted to know what I was talking about. I said that I wanted Parrish to have the experience of a train ride such as i so often had had when I was his age. And since it was so hot, I thought that that week would be the perfect time for us to take a trip.

That was fine with her, but where would we go? "New York CIty," was my reply.

We had a friend in Manhattan who had been a student of mine when I taught in El Dorado Springs and I suggested that we call him and see if it would be possible for us to visit for a few days.

A visit from us was fine with him. Tickets were purchased and we left two days later to The Big Apple.

The ride was long, just a warning if you ever decide to go that far. But the countryside was beautiful. I was particularly impressed with the Ohio Valley. We had many things to see and Parrish truly enjoyed himself for he had hours to read. While I relieved my childhood and looked out the window, Parrish looked deeply into life through his books and visited with other passengers.

He has a way with people that has always fascinated me. His personality seems to charm people, to win them; they warm to him. I do not know what his memories of that trip are like, but I recall him with his reading glasses, his beautiful blond hair, and the occasional visit with someone; the beautiful smile on his face, the kindness and friendliness in his voice. I know that I certainly enjoyed "his trip" on the train! I believe he did also.

Arriving at Penn Station in NYC is a memorable time to us. We found a pay phone and called our friend who said he would be there soon. About forty-five minutes later he found us among the throngs of people. We climbed the stairs, went through the Penn Station entrance and found ourselves in the bright sunlight of Manhattan. I was holding Parrish's hand. It still hurts my fingers thinking of it. His grip became intensely strong! We had never seen anything like that city. So big, so busy. Our friend hailed a taxi and we soon found ourselves in a Yellow Cab with a wild driver such as you often see portrayed in movies.

He talked continually about how New York just wasn't like it used to be. He honked at other drivers. He yelled at them. He drove up on the sidewalk to get around stopped traffic. What a ride!

Fortunately it didn't last long and he soon dropped us at Columbus Circle West near the Museum of Natural History. Reaching our destination our friend had a surprise for us. He and the person he lived with were "sitting" the other apartment on their floor. The person who lived there had just left three days earlier for a vacation in the Bahamas, so we got to live in her apartment while in New York. It faced the street and afforded us a great view of the neighborhood.

That trip is probably the greatest experience we have ever had by leaving town. The experiences which came about from that vacation have enriched our lives and given us insight into human relations. They have helped us find truth in our daily lives at home in El Dorado Springs. It is good to get to leave town if you can bring something good back with you, something which benefits you and those with whom you come into contact. Our journeys should teach us, should enrich us.
 



 

(written September, 1999) 
]]> Sat, 28 Jan 2006 15:37:45 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060128153745/index.html <![CDATA[Is It Good For The Children? ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060128053612/index.html My knowledge of high school success begins in 1950. I was in elementary school at the time but my older brother, who was six years older than I, was a freshman in high school.

There was a great contrast between the two brothers. He was never ill. He was tall with black hair and olive complexion. There was no way you would have guessed we were brothers. And, due to nature, he was an athlete's athlete. From his freshman year on he was a star player on both the football and basketball teams.

Our school was a member of the Big 8 Conference in southwest Missouri. Success was what we always knew. It was in "our nature," For the ten years that I was deeply aware of high school, both my brother's years and mine, I was acquainted first hand with success.

I remember the thundering crowds at the gym during those exciting basketball games. I recall the tense times as we listened to the State games in Columbia. I recall the disappointment when we placed second at State in both my brother's junior year and again his senior year.

At the end of his senior year season his jersey number and that of three of his teammates were retired. It has been an awesome four years in the history of our school.

A few years later when I entered high school those successes continued for me and the activities that I was a part of. In band we traveled to State every year - we always earned first place. We traveled with the Choir - we always earned first place. We traveled with the Girls and Boys Glee Clubs - we always earned first place. Winning was natural for us. But being winners required sacrifice, requires long hours of training and preparation.

But along with all of those successes I recall one event that was a disgrace for our school and for our community. One year during an intensely fought basketball game with our Arch Rival things got a little gruesome. We lost that game in overtime. A terrible brawl took place as fans from both sides of the gym rushed onto the court. A player from the opposing team was taken by ambulance to the hospital. Others were injured as were some of the fans from both towns.

The result was humiliating for our community. Our school was dismissed from the Big 8 Conference the following year. Passions took control of many of our adults. Their uncontrollable passion hurt people both physically and emotionally.

Their uncontrollable passion took the place of moral wisdom. John Kekes states, "Moral wisdom is a human psychological capacity to judge soundly what we should do in matters seriously affecting the goodness of our life." The judgment of the adults at that game was not sound. It did not consider the goodness of their lives or of the lives of their children.

Kekes also says "Moral wisdom guides action and directs conduct not by focusing on actions directly, but by concentrating on the development of our character from which our actions normally follow."

But those actions affect not only each of us who commit them, they also affect the children who observe them.

Last Wednesday Diana and I were in Kansas City visiting our son. I saw three cars with bumper stickers which expressed a penetrating question. "Is is good for the children?"

On Thursday as we read The Star we were impressed with the content of letters from Lisa Brown, Terri Heitz, Dale Heitz, Mike, Cathy, Molly and Jessica Frier, and Lana Wilson. They reminded each citizen of this beautiful community that we should be asking, "Is it good for the children?"

Lisa wrote, "Why don't you catch some of the spirit and have fun with the rest of us as we celebrate the academic and athletic achievements of our future leaders."

Terri told of the tremendous support given the Volleydogs throughout the season and said, "This is a positive thing and I can't believe that anyone could see it as anything different."

Dale asked us ". . . as a community to end the whining and complaining about school being let out . . . and as a community rise up above our concerns over the tax levy and start showing some respect for the kids, teachers, coaches and administration for their hard work and dedication to put El Dorado Springs on the map."

The Friers said, "We can make this a new beginning for El Dorado and hopefully those that held us back in the process will be swept up in this achievement."

And Lana Wilson closed her letter most appropriately by saying, "I would be ashamed to think that (right or wrong) what I thought was important enough to destroy the spirit that is alive ad well in El Dorado Springs at this time."

That spirit that Lana spoke of is
\f2\i good for the children! However, as Barb Prike, reporter for The Star said in her "Star comments," "Why do some people always have to have something bad to say? It's time this community stands up for what is right and say, enough is enough." It certainly is the time to stand together in El Dorado Springs. Enough is enough.

The negative voice of this community is not good for the children. A Lana Wilson wrote, "What are they thinking about their parents and other who not only write letters but vocally try to destroy our school spirit and pride?"

What could they think?

Moral Wisdom and Good Lives
John Kekes


(written November, 1999)  ]]> Fri, 27 Jan 2006 21:36:12 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060128053612/index.html <![CDATA[All Aboard For Cyberspace ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060126174505/index.html About fourteen years ago I read in an art education magazine an article written by a teacher who was using computers in his classroom.

His students were creating geometric designs and printing them on a color printer. I was fascinated by the simplistic pictures that they had created. There was no way you could read this teacher's article without catching the enthusiasm which he felt about this technology and its application to his art program.

At the time that I read the article Osceola High School had one computer in the typing room. They had purchased a TRS-80 and the students were "playing" on it to see what a computer was all about.

I went to the Radio Shack franchise here in El Dorado Springs and discovered that they had a new model called the Color Computer which could use a television as a monitor. Date was saved on a tape recorder. Color computers could be purchased for only $299.99. A small color set, used for a monitor could be had inexpensively. So for under $500.00, my students would be in on the ground floor. Keep in mind that we could do this and have a whopping 16K of RAM! At the time, I was impressed.

With great enthusiasm i headed for my principal's office on the third floor. I was armed with my arguments for the need for a computer in the art room. They had one in the typing room, so it seemed only natural to me that we should only natural to me that we should have one for art students as well.

He wasn't so enthusiastic. He almost laughed. What did computers have to do with art, he asked. He told me he would not be able to justify that kind of purchase. i knew him well enough to know that that was the end of the discussion.

Not quite the end of the discussion. Being the person of determination that I am (I believe that must have something to do with the fact that my grandfather Baker fame to America as a young man from Holland. Some say the Dutch are stubborn, I prefer "determined.") I sat myself down and asked where I had gone wrong in my presentation of this proposal.

Once I asked the question I immediately understood my error. I had not taken with me the article from the magazine. I had said that I had read that some teachers were using computers but I needed a visual support to my statement.

I knew that Mr. Bennett was the type of person who wanted the very best for his teachers and students, but he had to be convinced that your idea was going to pay off. otherwise there was no need to waste time on the concept.

The following day I climbed to the crow's nest again. His office was actually on the third and one half floor of the old high school. You really had to have a need to go there before you wished to climb all those stairs! I had a need. I had a mission. I was going to talk him into buying the computer, and overnight I realized that I would have to have a printer. So I added that to my list!

I did better that time. I sold him on the idea. I got everything I asked for. He felt good knowing that our small school district would be one of the very few across the state that would be teaching computer graphics. (It's all in how you packaged your sales pitch!)

I asked for a graphics class in which only the computer would be taught. Mr. Bennett agreed to this, but with one stipulation. I had to have a minimum of ten students and one computer. Al right, so you have to make concessions to get what you want. I decided I could do that if it was the only way my students could learn the use of computers in art. Besides, at that time Radio Shack had absolutely no software for art. To create any graphics we had to write the programs to generate the designs on the screen.

As written the program, line for line, would require learning how to create an image, and the more complex the image, the more lines required, and the more lines required, the longer it would take to write. So I figured that ten students and one computer would somehow work out.

It did. I never had such a learning experience in the classroom as I did in the first two or three years that I taught graphic design. When I retired in 1998 my graphics lab had nine Macs, four of which were Power Macs. The district had built a beautiful classroom just for graphic design. Neither my superintendent nor my principal ever had special guests in the building, that they did not bring them to see our lab and see the quality work being done by our students.

My final two years of teaching found the Internet in my classroom. The Internet completely altered my approach to teaching art. Art concepts which I had used through the three decades of my teaching took on a new look as the students and I asked ourselves how we could add the Internet to the assignments. I was fortunate to have many bright minds which accepted the challenge and enhanced or downright changed the direction from which we started.

With my students I boarded the electronic shuttle and traveled into cyberspace. How fortunate I was to still have been teaching when that craft boarded and departed into the future.


(written December, 1999)  ]]> Thu, 26 Jan 2006 17:45:05 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060126174505/index.html <![CDATA[Pages Carefully Read ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060125155030/index.html By our continual and earnest pursuit of character we bring our own deportment and conduct frequently in review. This constant habit of surveying ourselves, as it were, in reflection, keeps alive all the sentiments of right and wrong, and begets, in noble creatures, a certain reverence for themselves as well as others, which is the surest guardian of every virtue.

--David Hume



When I began teaching in El Dorado Springs my take home pay the first month was $283.00. While that seems like a ridiculously low salary by today's pay scale, neither was it too great in those days!

I discovered during my first month at EHS that my pay would not reach to the end of the month. So I decided that if I bought a full month of lunch tickets after I received my check, then at least I would be guaranteed of one meal a day, five days a week.

To assure that I had food to go beyond that I would go to Sibley and Thatch Supermarket and buy a lot of on sale frozen TV dinners and frozen cream pies. My freezer would be packed and I knew I could almost make it to the next payday.

One incident stands out in my attempt to have enough to eat. My future brother-in-law (I had had one date with his sister, and had no idea at the time that I would marry her) had come to my home with a friend. They wanted to work on their art projects at school. I said OK and had gone to another room to get something to take over to the school. When I returned to the kitchen where they were waiting, I found them eating a frozen cream pie.

Mark had checked out the refrigerator to see if there was anything to snack on, there wasn't. Then he looked in the freezer and found the pie. It was the only pie. It was about all I had left to eat that month!

I took it in stride and said nothing. They were teenage boys, always hungry, and didn't know about the struggling attempts of a first year teacher to make ends met. It was a losing struggle, because they never met.

I did have one secret, however, and I have to admit to doing this, although I think I can fall back on the natural drive for survival as my excuse. I could always get invited to dinner if I made a visit to a certain couple at the right time of evening.

One of the faculty members was a veteran teacher and his wife was retired. I had met them at the faculty picnic in the city park the day before school opened in l966. I especially enjoyed visiting with her, as she was a reader and loved to discuss ideas. She never took a particular side on an idea, but rather like to explore all possible ways of looking at it.

Usually when I arrived she would say, "I've been thinking about . . . What do you think about that, Mike"? Or she would say, "Have a seat. What have you been thinking about?" She seemed to know when to ask that. She was intuitive and usually knew when I had an idea floating around in my mind.

We'd bounce our thoughts back and forth and before you knew it her husband would come in from his office and say, "It's time to eat. Mike had better stay and eat with us." Thank goodness! There was no food at home.

Once she said to me, "Mike, you will be remembered as a philosopher, not an artist." That surprised me, because as a twenty-three year old I was idealistic and thought that someday, just maybe, I could be "an artist." Honestly, I didn't even know that being "philosophic" meant. Never had I read any book of philosophy. So I didn't really give much credence to her comment.

Since that time I have read widely in the philosophies of the East and the West and I've read religious philosophies of great thinkers from around the world. Answers to the questions that she and I raised so many years ago have come slowly. They have led in one direction and then in another, been redirected and refined.

Literally thousands of books have been written by men and women seeking to discover the meaning of life; seeking to discover what its purpose is. Surely the average person has asked, "What is it that I am supposed to be accomplishing in my life?"

To have truly lived we must ask, "What Idea is my life expressing? How do I expend my daily energies? What do I think about? What do I say to others? What actions do I perform?"

By looking at my daily life, I find the answers; that is how I find out what Ideal my life is expressing.

As the pages of my daily life are turned, leaf by leaf, I find myself revealed. I learn who I am. I come to know the Idea being expressed through my life.

Am I a caring person or neglectful of others? Am I compassionate or disregarding of others? Do I offer forgiveness or seek vendettas? Do I extend goodness or meanness to others? Do I show kindness or vindictiveness? Do I express love or hate? Am I sharing or greedy?

The book of my daily life contains the answer. The pages must be carefully read.


(written February, 2000)  ]]> Wed, 25 Jan 2006 15:50:30 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060125155030/index.html <![CDATA[The Cream Always Rises to The Top ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060124180619/index.html My aunt and uncle lived on a farm in southwest Missouri where Uncle Bill and his son farmed nearly 500 acres. I recall the beautiful corn and golden wheat fields near harvest time which we drove through on the country roads that took us to their home.

During rainy seasons the river that ran through their farm would often flood. As the waters would recede the roads were left almost impassable, but we somehow got through the low areas. I remember the slow going as we neared the bridge. My father loved to stop in the middle of the bridge as this always brought loud, anxious protests from my mother. She was terrified of the ancient bridge, believing that we would fall through at any moment. All the protesting never prevented my father from stopping every time we crossed.

Just about a mile from the bridge was the road into the farm house. The front yard was a large acreage of soybeans. These provided a rich, thick, deep green "lawn" which was splendid.

Coming from a large family, we often gathered at this house set deep in the countryside. Family dinners held there were pages from a storybook.

Upon arriving we always entered through the rear of the house. Passing through the summer porch you could smell the food being prepared. Aunt Edna was an excellent cook. Her skill was enhanced by the quality of her ingredients. The meat was from the cattle they raised; the mile from their cows; the eggs from their hens; most of the vegetables from their garden; and the flour ground from their wheat.

She then took those things from the earth they farmed and turned them into dishes for our delight. On her table were two items which had a taste that is with me always when I recall those meals-home churned butter and homemade cottage cheese.

You generally saw huge gallon jars of milk in her kitchen. They would be sitting while the cream rose to the top. From that cream came the special ingredient for many of my aunt's preparations.

I believe the real secret to the success of her meals was something you didn't see sitting out on the counter, something you didn't find on a shelf, something that was evident, however, if you looked about you.

That "ingredient" was patience. She could not have prepared the bread, the butter, the cottage cheese, the homemade noodles, the mashed potatoes, the cakes from scratch without patience.

Like the cream which slowly rises, the food of the greatest quality comes about slowly and requires our involvement.

I appreciate the wonderful foods that we have at hand today. While we have many good tastes to choose from, most of these can be had quickly. A simple thing such as a cup of tea demonstrates the difference of what I am thinking about. I take my cup fill it with water, place my tea bag in it, place it in the microwave and after three brief minutes I can enjoy tea time at the window as I watch the butterflies and the bees doing their work in the garden.

In the past I would have had to fill the copper tea pot, boil the water, steep the tea , and then, I could finally sit down to look at nature. Today most meals and snacks come prepared to some extent, if not entirely. The microwave brings us nearly instant dishes, perfectly seasoned and ready to enjoy ad nourish us. Not much patience is needed.

Even our shopping is changing as we can now sit at our computers and pick our books, clothing, even our computers and peripherals, order then on-line and receive them overnight. Little patience is required.

It wasn't that way when we crossed the bridge and traveled to the farm for the family gatherings. Everything required patience. in the late summer afternoon we froze homemade ice cream. Poured over this was Aunt Edna's rich chocolate syrup which she heated on the stove.

The memories I am reflecting on are from the days prior to rural electrification. At dusk my aunt would open the dining room cabinets and take down the oil lamps. As she lit them her lovely home took on a warmth and softness as evening descended. It is as though the lamps brought a unity to the group, brought out kindness in their natures allowing them to cross differences in their points of view.

My uncle was a staunch Republican conservative whose political perspective was a total contrast to my father's loyal Democratic views. My father was a Kansas City-bred Democrat from the old school.

Even these extreme differences were able to be bridged in that lamp light. They would discuss their viewpoints intelligently, respectfully.

Today, although the cream still rises slowly, we have become unaware of its rising because the gallon jar is not sitting in view. The rising takes place somewhere out of sight. The bread is baked for the most part somewhere else. The butter is from the grocery dairy shelf. Sitting nearby is the cottage cheese. Down the isle you can select the entire meal, fully prepared. Just place it in the microwave and have it in 5-7 minutes.

But the cream slowly rises. Perhaps this ability to access our world instantly, this ability to have immediate results has cheated us out of learning the character trait known as patience. When we encounter problems now we often expect instant solutions. Many solutions to interpersonal problems can not be found instantly. It takes patience to discover truths in each others' point of view. It takes patience to resolve important issues. It takes patience to discover within ourselves those views which we must accept as incorrect. And it takes courage to admit that those views just don't work any longer. It takes courage to change and it takes patience.


(written January, 2000)  ]]> Tue, 24 Jan 2006 18:06:19 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060124180619/index.html <![CDATA[You can't have your cake and eat it too ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060123155825/index.html Parrish, our son, recently celebrated his birthday. Diana wanted to surprise him with a special cake. He draws a cartoon series entitled Sparrow's Fall, so she scanned a color frame of the characters from his series and then printed it on our printer. I took that out to Angie at Summer Fresh to see if she could create the characters as a cake decoration. No problem, she said, she would just scan it and print it on the cake. Technology - it is grand!

She did a superb job. Diana used our digital camera and photographed the cake so that she could "keep" it on the hard drive of her computer. When we got to Parrish's apartment and he opened the cake box he was amazed at what he saw. His first words were, "I can't eat that!" So his mother suggested he use his camera to "keep" the cake as she was doing.

I have heard the expression all my life, "You can't have your cake and eat it too." Of course what Parrish was expressing that morning, was "I want to keep this cake because it is so special." Without doubt a cake is for eating, however, if you eat it you can't keep it.

Generally that age old expression does not apply to cakes but rather is used figuratively as a way of expressing other things. The point is, we can't have things two ways at the same time.

I would like to invite you to wander through my mind as I connect the above story to something which really has had me reflecting on how sometimes we attempt to have things two ways at once. Since September 11, 2001 you and I have seen an unusual display of patriotism in this beautiful country of ours. All about us flags are flying. Bumper stickers have flourished with statements such as, "God Bless America," "Land of Freedom," "United We Stand," and many others. This has occurred because there are men who have openly stated that they wish for ALL Americans to die. All of us. They say we are infidels and deserve death simply because we choose to live free - free to speak, free to write, free to worship or refrain from formal worship, or to say it more directly, free to think independently. For this freedom we have been found guilty. And who are our accusers? Cowards who hide in dark caves and in deep tunnels. Cowards afraid to enter into an open discussion. Cowards who cannot permit light to shine upon their thoughts for fear that they are wrong.

Let us imagine such cowards in our own government. Pretend that you turn on your television set this evening to view the evening news. On your set appears a reporter who is interviewing a senator. He introduces him as Senator X. Why? Because he is protecting the senator's identity, for as the camera pans to the senator you find that he has a black hood over his head. He differs with the President on a matter of public nature, but he does not want any of his constituents to know who he is. The reporter has agreed to protect his identity be allowing him to wear a hood. A ludicrous story? Of course.

When a newspaper states that a letter writer's name will be withheld upon request when the topic is of a public nature it is placing a black hood over the identity of the letter writer. (Keep in mind that the term "public nature" is left undefined and is at the discretion of the editor to determine.) This policy is just as ludicrous as the imaginary television newscast above. This is the land of freedom. This is the land of unity. Freedom permits dissension. The person who has a differing viewpoint in America does not have to hid his identity, most particularly in matters of a "public nature." We have the right to dissent. That is guaranteed. That right is coupled with the responsibility to dissent through appropriate means. Anonymity is not appropriate.

Osama bin Laden disagrees with the right to dissent. He disagrees with Western Civilization and wished for it to be destroyed while he hides in darkness.

El Dorado Springs has an historic wall which borders the east side of the Spring Park. Legend has it that the faint blue and gray coloration in the stones of our Rock Wall were left by the uniforms of the Union and Confederate soldiers as they sat together on the wall. This story symbolizes the unity of those who have met there to visit for over 100 years. Our Rock Wall is not a place of division and discord. Our Rock Wall unites this small community.

We should never forget the symbolism of El Dorado Springs' Rock Wall. Through the centuries we have come together there in unity. Ayn Rand wrote, "Contradictions do not exist. Whenever you think you are facing a contradiction, check your premises. You will find that one of them is wrong." Anyone who professes to support the legend of unity represented by the Rock Wall while at the same time sanctioning division and discord is attempting to have their cake and eat it too. Something is wrong.

"What do we live for if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?"
George Eliot


(written January, 2002)  ]]> Mon, 23 Jan 2006 15:58:25 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060123155825/index.html <![CDATA[Blowing in the Wind ]]> http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060122080047/index.html There is a bibical story where Jesus is teaching his disciples and he tells them that if they cast good bread out upon the water it will come back to them sevenfold. The good that they do will be rewarded in like kind.

At a daily sales conference we had when I was in furniture sales about an eon ago my employer told that story. I don't remember how he had fit that into his morning "pitch" to the sales team, but I recall that I commented that I had an amendment to that story. If you cast bad bread our upon the water I believe it will also come back upon you sevenfold.

Surely the "good" that we do is no different than the "bad" in that both kinds of actions leave us and spread out into the lives of those around us. Our actions affect us, but equally as important, they affect all with whom we come into contact and while our actions affect them, we must remember that they in turn affect those with whom they encounter. Our "good" and "bad" just keeps on spreading and spreading and it will eventually come back to us.

With that in mind, we should all think carefully both about what we speak and what we write, while also considering our non-verbal communication, our body-language, for it also affects others about us.

In Martin Buber's book I and Thou he addresses the relationship which two humans have. Buber says that our relationship exists between us. It is "out there" between you and I. In true communication we become one as we exchange or thoughts in dialogue and as we share our emotions toward each other. This happens when we recognize the other person as she or he is; when we accept them as a being like our self.

This relationship cannot occur if we see the other person as an object. A true relationship can only develop between us when recognize the other as the person that they are in this moment.

Buber states that the dynamics of the relationship develop in the interactions between "I and Thou." When I give you my full attention, when I truly listen to your thoughts, when I completely respond to you, then and only then, can we establish a bond and become more than simply an "I" and a "Thou." Whit this bond we become, we might say, an "IandThou". One-united.

Therefore what we cast out to the other in our life, becomes greater by sevenfold. When we establish this bond which Buber is speaking of, the "IandThou" becomes enriched. No longer is each person alone and separate from the other, rather now they have transcended their separateness, they have become more than their individuality, they have become one with one another. How? By simply recognizing the humanity of the other, by reaching our and emotionally embracing the other.

Therefore it is critical that we consider each encounter throughout our day. How do we respond to others? What actions do we exhibit? What words do we speak or write? What feelings do we share or withhold from the other?

We should examine our response. If it does not embrace the other with whom we encounter, why not? Why did we chose to push that person away? What caused us to exclude them from our life?

We should examine our actions toward others with whom we share our day. If we were impatient with them, we need to ask ourselves why we exhibited this impatience. Why did we not have time for the other?

Why did we speak or write words which would keep the other person from entering into a compassionate relationship with us?

Finally, we must ask why we are not able to share our emotions with the other? Or why we do not wish to share the emotion they are experiencing today? What frightens us about this emotional sharing?

Our relationship with others seems to be somehow blowing on the wind. I recall an elementary teacher once telling my class the story of a man who went up on a high tower and ripped open a feather pillow. The wind caught the feathers and blew them all over the village. He then tried to gather all the feathers but found his task impossible. Once he had released the feathers it was impossible to find them all again.

She was attempting to teach us that the words which we speak, the thoughts which we write, the actions which we exhibit go out from us and if they have not been carefully considered, they may result in coming back upon us with irreparable damage. The Good will come back to us sevenfold, but what should alarm us is that the bad will also return. Once the bad has been released, we often find it impossible to say "I am sorry" enough times to undo the damage we have done. What is blowing in the wind between you and I today?


Focus, not on the rudeness of others, not on what they've done or left undone,
but on what you have or haven't done yourself.
Blossoms, Chap 4:50 Dhammapada



(written December, 2001)  ]]> Sun, 22 Jan 2006 08:00:47 -0600 http://homepage.mac.com/sparrowsfall/iblog/B645365840/C1207139665/E20060122080047/index.html