The institution of marriage is in a strange state. Traditionalists are fighting against strong odds to preserve its classical formulation while progressives actively work to redefine what they consider to be an outdated definition. No matter where you look it's hard to find anyone that is happy with the establishment marriage as it now stands.
Over the space of three generations marriage has gone from a broadly accepted well-defined establishment—indeed, the only socially legitimate way to organize a family—to an optional arrangement that can easily be dissolved and that many now accept as being open to just about any two consenting adults regardless of gender. While most adults still think that it's unacceptable for first cousins or siblings to marry, many other marital taboos are evaporating.
How did this transition occur? Divorce was once rare. People shunned its possibility even when marital relationships were rocky. Now people dump their spouses with nary a thought. Out of wedlock births that were once minimized due to social stigma are now more common than in-marriage births. The idea that two people of the same sex could marry each other seemed ludicrous at the beginning of this century. Now it is broadly accepted among the younger generation. It is quite possible that opposition to this altered definition of marriage will literally die out over time.
Is there a way to re-enthrone traditional marriage in broader society? Wall Street Journal Editor James Taranto doesn't think so. But any road to that destination, he says in this article, requires challenging the main cause of the decline of traditional marriage. What is that main cause? Taranto answers with profound political incorrectness that "The institution of marriage has been a casualty of contemporary feminism--specifically of the idea of sexual equality."
It used to be that "a husband and a wife" writes Taranto, "each brought something distinctive to the marriage." The long-term push to raise the status of "women relative to men has blurred these sex roles." The redefinition of marriage is a natural result of the redefinition of sex roles.
Taranto explains, "If men and women are at the deepest level interchangeable, then there's nothing to distinguish a "husband" from a "wife" and no reason that a "marriage" has to consist of one of each rather than two of one or the other." It becomes simply a matter of preference. Thus, the feminist goal of redefining sex roles naturally reduces the need for marriage to exist only as the union of a man and a woman.
The problem for traditionalists, writes Taranto, is that "the fundamental assumptions of contemporary feminism ... are very deeply ingrained in both elite and popular culture." Feminism has been tremendously successful in broadly instilling the concept of sexual equality in society—so successful, in fact, that many have difficulty drawing any distinct line delimiting the interchangeability of the sexes. Those that insist on clear boundaries are regarded as retrograde bigots.
Is Taranto wrong about this? Think of your own perceptions, how they have evolved, and about what you are willing to say on the matter in the company of those that don't share your views. Taranto can't see how we're ever going to get the traditional marriage genie back in the bottle.
Taranto believes that gays are mainly interested in same-sex marriage as a tool for achieving moral and social equivalence with heterosexuals. A great deal of research backs him up on this. He also seems to believe that this goal will ultimately be achieved.
Unlike Taranto, I believe that polygamy could become legal not long after same-sex marriage becomes widely legal. It is true that gays currently show little interest in polygamy and that polling shows strong opposition to polygamy among the general population. But gays are not the only party interested in redefining marriage.
Once marriage is no longer bound by a pattern of biological reproductivity, arguments against alternative marital arrangements will quickly melt away. On what logical basis could multi-partner unions be opposed? Nor does the current general animosity toward polygamy present any long-term bulwark against its future acceptance. Note how rapidly attitudes regarding same-sex marriage have changed.
Some argue that allowing same-sex marriage and even polygamous marriage will strengthen the faltering institution of marriage, not further weaken it. Evidence is contrary on this. Gay unions tend to be far less monogamous than heterosexual unions. Where same-sex marriage is legal gays divorce at substantially higher rates than heterosexuals.
Marriage rates have dropped precipitously in countries that permit various marital arrangements. Marriage is now widely considered by those populations to be separated from childbearing. Thus, the traditional primary purpose of marriage—to provide stable family environments likely to enable children to become productive members of society—has been replaced with an organization focused mainly on adult fulfillment. Evidence shows that this shift has ill served children and has created a greater drain on public resources.
There are some bright spots. Marriage is still quite strong among the more educated and higher earning segments of the U.S. population. And even while cohabitation and divorce rates have skyrocketed among the less educated and lower earning segments, most still view a good marriage as the ideal and a goal that they want to achieve. More than 95% of American adults marry at some point during their lifetimes. But there's no telling how long these patterns will hold.
Traditionalists see the decline of traditional marriage leading to broader social decay, which in turn will lead to greater economic dysfunction and cause a host of serious national problems. They know that their children and grandchildren are likely to follow national trends and to end up in relationships that research convincingly shows are less fulfilling and less healthy than traditional marriage.
What are traditionalists to do about the decay of traditional marriage? Are they fighting a losing battle? If so, is it a battle worth fighting anyway? If the battle can be won, how is it to be done?
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Can Students be Forced to Learn?
I tolerated school as a child. It was filled with drudgery, stupidity, social awkwardness, enemies, a few friends, and occasional moments of enlightenment. Being lousy at both sports and academics, I rarely distinguished myself in any way. I was neither at the top nor the bottom of the heap. I was among the faceless hoard that made up much of the student body. School wasn't evil; it was just something to be endured.
As a parent I have viewed school from a contrasting perspective. Each of my children has fit into the system differently. One has excelled. The other four have all grappled with various challenges. Like their father, each child has struggled more or less with math. Like most Americans, I hated math. It seemed so inane. I always seemed to be missing critical bits of basic understanding required to comprehend concepts.
In school I usually tried to slide by with as little effort as possible in pretty much every subject, except for the rare situations where something captured my imagination. I lacked perspective to sense much payoff from serious educational engagement and effort. I see this to some degree in each of my children.
Tests have always been ubiquitous in the school system. But during my children's lifetimes standardized testing has become all the rage. The current Common Core push aims to increase standardized testing quality and rigidity. The CC website says that this will "provide a consistent, clear understanding of what students are expected to learn, so teachers and parents know what they need to do to help them."
That sounds reasonable on the surface. But Common Core has been strongly criticized by both educators and conservative groups as further usurping parents and educators (see 5/8/2012 WSJ article). Conservatives assert that it is simply part of a larger social agenda with which they do not agree. Educators argue that CC prevents teachers from actually educating students.
Retired educator and author of Educating for Human Greatness Lynn Stoddard dresses down CC in this Standard Examiner op-ed. Stoddard says that CC "curriculum standardizes students — it tries to make them all alike in predetermined knowledge and skills at grade-level check points — and tests to make sure it is happening." (The phrase "check points" can bring to mind images of Nazis or TSA agents.)
In Stoddard's view, CC destroys individuality. It aims to create an army of automatons that can successfully regurgitate the facts that some shadowy group of bureaucrats deems to be essential. This flies in the face of human experience. Stoddard notes that "imposed learning is shallow and temporary compared to self-chosen learning that is deep and enduring." He writes:
"Human development is individual development. Students cannot be mass-produced like products on an assembly line. Students will learn basic skills when the time is right for each one, not according to an artificial schedule."
Coupling Stoddard's article with his previous (3/13/2012) op-ed, we get an idea of what Stoddard suggests instead of our current public education methodology. Educating for human greatness includes focusing on identity, inquiry, interaction, initiative, imagination, intuition, and integrity.
Stoddard explains what this system would look like. Frankly the list reads like a fantasy novel. Each child will have an individualized study system that draws on an "unlimited set of subjects." Compulsory attendance will be eliminated, so no one will be present that doesn't want to learn. Graduation will be determined by "a student showing the ways in which s/he is ready to be a valuable contributor to society" instead of by getting grades in narrowly defined courses.
There are a few problems with Stoddard's vision. There is no way it could be successfully implemented within the scope of public education. All large government systems only function on the basis of coercion and standardization. For Stoddard's system to work at all, education would have to be removed from the purview of government. That includes funding.
Many people are already doing this. It's called home schooling. For the rest of the students, as long as funding—and therefore direction—continues to come through government we can expect more of the "We have ways to make you get good math scores" methodology. 'Nonstandard' students (along with their parents and teachers) will be punished.
It would also be interesting to discover what Stoddard plans for those students that take full advantage of the lack of a compulsory attendance requirement. Some of the not insignificant purposes of public schools (whether we agree or not) are to provide child care services and to minimize idle time when kids would be more likely to cause trouble, until most of them are old enough to learn the value of staying out of trouble.
Compulsory education is not without merit. Many students have discovered enduring interests only after being exposed to them as part of an imposed curriculum. Students have to know that something exists before they can choose to study it. But compulsory education can also obviously have detrimental effects.
Some might argue that Stoddard's model would necessarily require far more teachers than we have today so that it would be horrendously expensive. Maybe. Others might point out that such a system could be effectively administered with far fewer members of the education administratosphere than we have at present. It might actually cost less than our current bloated system.
The whole purpose of standardized testing was supposedly to improve educational outcomes. We've been doing this for some years now, yet any improvement due to standardized testing, if it exists at all, could only be seen under a microscope. So color me skeptical that even more inflexible standardized testing will improve educational outcomes.
The underlying problems in our education system are structural and cultural. We have made minor efforts to reform structure while undertaking major efforts to reform methods. We have focused intently on the 10% while giving far less attention to the 90%. And yet we wonder why we continue to get unacceptable results. Maybe that's because those we trust to make the decisions tend to be products of public education themselves.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Sustaining
Throughout my life I have raised my hand countless times to sustain those that have accepted callings to serve in various church positions. For the uninitiated, Latter-Day Saints hold to the practice of common consent. Each person being called to a church position of any nature is presented before the church body to be served. Members of the body are then asked to raise their hands to indicate that they either will or won't sustain the individual in that calling.
This raising of the hand does not demonstrate democracy. Church members are simply indicating whether they support the calling that has come through proper channels. As explained by Joseph Fielding Smith in his book series Doctrines of Salvation (vol. 3, p. 124), we are only justified in voting against an individual if we are aware of some wrong doing or transgression that would disqualify that person from serving. We are not free to vote against them simply due to some type of personal disagreement.
Throughout the years I have occasionally seen church members refrain from voting either way, perhaps in silent dissent. (Or maybe they were just distracted at the moment.) Only twice have I seen members vote against sustaining someone. Both times it was the same church members voting against the same church leaders.
Years ago I was attending a ward conference. As is customary at such gatherings, the stake clerk went through the sustaining of general and stake officers. He then moved on to sustaining the ward (congregation) bishopric. As usual, most of the congregation voted to sustain. When the clerk asked if there were any opposed, he was shocked to see several hands raised high.
The confused clerk turned to look at the stake president, who was seated behind him on the stand. The stake president was a man with a very calm temperament. He beckoned to the clerk and whispered in his ear. Then the clerk asked the dissenting individuals to step into a room outside of the chapel with the stake president.
This was such a rare occurrence that it was obvious that nobody really knew how to handle the situation. The entire congregation sat in an awkward silence for the next several minutes. Those minutes passed very slowly. Nobody stepped to the pulpit to speak. The organist played no music. No person that was old enough to understand what was going on was comfortable.
Finally the stake president and the individuals returned. The stake president went to the pulpit and explained that several members had expressed some disagreement with certain administrative decisions made by the bishopric, but that none of these members cited any evidence of unworthiness among the bishopric.
The stake president then briefly explained that the members of the bishopric had been called of God through proper priesthood channels. It was his duty as their priesthood leader to handle any worthiness issues, but he stated that he knew of no such problems. If members of the congregation likewise knew of no unworthiness, he explained, they had no basis in church doctrine for opposing these men. The clerk returned to the pulpit and the sustainings continued as normal.
When ward conference rolled around the following year, the stake and ward leaders were ready. They had studied the handbook to know how to handle dissent during the sustaining of officers. When some of the same individuals again voted against sustaining the bishopric, the clerk noted the dissenting votes. He explained that the stake executive secretary would make appointments for the individuals to meet with the stake president about their concerns and said that stake leaders would subsequently report to the congregation. The clerk then continued with the sustaining of officers.
Several weeks later the stake president visited the ward. He reminded the congregation that some members had voted not to sustain the bishopric at the recent ward conference (as if anyone needed reminding). He explained that he had met with each of these members about their concerns, had conducted an investigation, which revolved around possible misuse of church funds, and had found no improprieties. He said that he had reported the findings to the concerned parties and that most of them now felt to sustain the bishopric.
One of the accusers said nothing during the meeting. But over the ensuing weeks he took every possible opportunity to corner members of the ward and air his gripe. Money had been set aside in the budget for the three members of the bishopric to attend an intensive Boy Scout training course. But the three men ended up not attending due to other commitments. The money intended for the course "disappeared," according to the accuser. The stake president, this man charged, was obviously in cahoots with them because he had "whitewashed" the matter.
I served in a calling that had some insight into church finances and I was aware that the money had simply been shifted to another budget category where need existed. This is a fairly regular and accepted practice. The supporting paperwork had been properly completed. The men had not "pocketed" the money (about $100 each), as was contended.
When the accuser found few sympathetic listeners, he asserted that pretty much the whole congregation was dishonest and/or deluded. He purposefully chose a job assignment that would keep him out of town most weekends for a few years until the leaders then serving had been released.
After those years had passed, however, the man had only become more bitter and rancorous. As he regaled others with his supposed concern about church funds, his rantings came across as increasingly ridiculous and vindictive.
In reality, this brother felt that the bishopric had offended him when they had once counseled with him about ways he could better fulfill the calling he had. The unfounded finance complaint was just a surrogate tool for getting back at the bishopric. Instead it made this bright and talented man increasingly seem like an angry toddler pitching a fit.
Moreover, the man's years away from church worship had changed him. He had let his personal religious practices lapse. He felt like an outsider and could no longer find the spiritual fulfillment he had once felt. He stayed away from church and created a great deal of unnecessary animosity among his own family members. It was a sad and pathetic thing to watch.
A fair number of people—both church members and others—have misconceptions about the law of common consent. According to Article of Faith #5, Mormons believe that church callings come from God through earthly priesthood leaders. While those leaders are imperfect and make mistakes, church members are obligated to sustain others in their callings unless they are aware of disqualifying behavior. Then they are obligated to make proper priesthood leaders aware of such behavior.
Sustaining others is more than just raising one's hand in a public meeting. It means doing everything we reasonably can to help them properly fulfill their callings. This can include doing things we'd rather not (perhaps like public speaking or helping someone move) when asked.
Since everyone that holds a church calling is imperfect, it's exceptionally easy to find fault with their service. Sniping and holding grudges is no way to sustain someone. That's the path to greater pain and less peace.
Everyone that holds a calling can only properly fulfill it when sustained by others. We all need others to lift our hands and strengthen our knees (D&C 81:5). Moreover, for our own good as well as that of others, we need to help lift the hands and strengthen then knees of others in their church callings. Imperfect people helping each other as we try to fulfill divinely issued callings brings mutual strength and peace.
This raising of the hand does not demonstrate democracy. Church members are simply indicating whether they support the calling that has come through proper channels. As explained by Joseph Fielding Smith in his book series Doctrines of Salvation (vol. 3, p. 124), we are only justified in voting against an individual if we are aware of some wrong doing or transgression that would disqualify that person from serving. We are not free to vote against them simply due to some type of personal disagreement.
Throughout the years I have occasionally seen church members refrain from voting either way, perhaps in silent dissent. (Or maybe they were just distracted at the moment.) Only twice have I seen members vote against sustaining someone. Both times it was the same church members voting against the same church leaders.
Years ago I was attending a ward conference. As is customary at such gatherings, the stake clerk went through the sustaining of general and stake officers. He then moved on to sustaining the ward (congregation) bishopric. As usual, most of the congregation voted to sustain. When the clerk asked if there were any opposed, he was shocked to see several hands raised high.
The confused clerk turned to look at the stake president, who was seated behind him on the stand. The stake president was a man with a very calm temperament. He beckoned to the clerk and whispered in his ear. Then the clerk asked the dissenting individuals to step into a room outside of the chapel with the stake president.
This was such a rare occurrence that it was obvious that nobody really knew how to handle the situation. The entire congregation sat in an awkward silence for the next several minutes. Those minutes passed very slowly. Nobody stepped to the pulpit to speak. The organist played no music. No person that was old enough to understand what was going on was comfortable.
Finally the stake president and the individuals returned. The stake president went to the pulpit and explained that several members had expressed some disagreement with certain administrative decisions made by the bishopric, but that none of these members cited any evidence of unworthiness among the bishopric.
The stake president then briefly explained that the members of the bishopric had been called of God through proper priesthood channels. It was his duty as their priesthood leader to handle any worthiness issues, but he stated that he knew of no such problems. If members of the congregation likewise knew of no unworthiness, he explained, they had no basis in church doctrine for opposing these men. The clerk returned to the pulpit and the sustainings continued as normal.
When ward conference rolled around the following year, the stake and ward leaders were ready. They had studied the handbook to know how to handle dissent during the sustaining of officers. When some of the same individuals again voted against sustaining the bishopric, the clerk noted the dissenting votes. He explained that the stake executive secretary would make appointments for the individuals to meet with the stake president about their concerns and said that stake leaders would subsequently report to the congregation. The clerk then continued with the sustaining of officers.
Several weeks later the stake president visited the ward. He reminded the congregation that some members had voted not to sustain the bishopric at the recent ward conference (as if anyone needed reminding). He explained that he had met with each of these members about their concerns, had conducted an investigation, which revolved around possible misuse of church funds, and had found no improprieties. He said that he had reported the findings to the concerned parties and that most of them now felt to sustain the bishopric.
One of the accusers said nothing during the meeting. But over the ensuing weeks he took every possible opportunity to corner members of the ward and air his gripe. Money had been set aside in the budget for the three members of the bishopric to attend an intensive Boy Scout training course. But the three men ended up not attending due to other commitments. The money intended for the course "disappeared," according to the accuser. The stake president, this man charged, was obviously in cahoots with them because he had "whitewashed" the matter.
I served in a calling that had some insight into church finances and I was aware that the money had simply been shifted to another budget category where need existed. This is a fairly regular and accepted practice. The supporting paperwork had been properly completed. The men had not "pocketed" the money (about $100 each), as was contended.
When the accuser found few sympathetic listeners, he asserted that pretty much the whole congregation was dishonest and/or deluded. He purposefully chose a job assignment that would keep him out of town most weekends for a few years until the leaders then serving had been released.
After those years had passed, however, the man had only become more bitter and rancorous. As he regaled others with his supposed concern about church funds, his rantings came across as increasingly ridiculous and vindictive.
In reality, this brother felt that the bishopric had offended him when they had once counseled with him about ways he could better fulfill the calling he had. The unfounded finance complaint was just a surrogate tool for getting back at the bishopric. Instead it made this bright and talented man increasingly seem like an angry toddler pitching a fit.
Moreover, the man's years away from church worship had changed him. He had let his personal religious practices lapse. He felt like an outsider and could no longer find the spiritual fulfillment he had once felt. He stayed away from church and created a great deal of unnecessary animosity among his own family members. It was a sad and pathetic thing to watch.
A fair number of people—both church members and others—have misconceptions about the law of common consent. According to Article of Faith #5, Mormons believe that church callings come from God through earthly priesthood leaders. While those leaders are imperfect and make mistakes, church members are obligated to sustain others in their callings unless they are aware of disqualifying behavior. Then they are obligated to make proper priesthood leaders aware of such behavior.
Sustaining others is more than just raising one's hand in a public meeting. It means doing everything we reasonably can to help them properly fulfill their callings. This can include doing things we'd rather not (perhaps like public speaking or helping someone move) when asked.
Since everyone that holds a church calling is imperfect, it's exceptionally easy to find fault with their service. Sniping and holding grudges is no way to sustain someone. That's the path to greater pain and less peace.
Everyone that holds a calling can only properly fulfill it when sustained by others. We all need others to lift our hands and strengthen our knees (D&C 81:5). Moreover, for our own good as well as that of others, we need to help lift the hands and strengthen then knees of others in their church callings. Imperfect people helping each other as we try to fulfill divinely issued callings brings mutual strength and peace.
Monday, June 18, 2012
A Cabin at Camp Loll Gets a New Floor
I got up in the wee hours on Friday morning to take a trip with my brother to Camp Loll. We drove to Ashton, Idaho, where we picked up supplies from Stronks and Sons Hardware. It's a smaller, older place, but the people were great to deal with. That kept us from hauling plywood from a greater distance.
The Ashton-Flagg Road still had a sign saying that it was closed for the season. It hadn't been graded recently. Yet it was in pretty good shape. We made good time. Along the way we passed the food service truck that was bringing provisions to the camp. At the speed it was going we figured the truck would arrive about an hour after our arrival. That estimate turned out to be fairly accurate.
It was overcast when we arrived at camp. It still felt quite cool. Despite it being a lower than average snow year, there was plenty of snow throughout the camp. The staff plans to start shoveling out critical areas tomorrow so that they can be mostly dry for the arrival of troops next Monday. The mosquitoes were about as thick as I expected they'd be, given the ample breeding grounds. 100% DEET repellent kept bites to a minimum.
Staff members were soon helping us clear out the cabin that is closest to the lake. Back when I worked on staff that building was the office, so we call it the old office. When my kids worked on staff they called it the guest cabin. We had a project over Labor Day weekend in 2010 to replace the roof on this cabin. The volunteer crew did a fine job.
This is one of three cabins at camp that was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps back in the 1930s to support the construction of the Grassy Lake Dam, which is just a few miles from Camp Loll. The scout council made a deal with the forest service back in the early 1960s to allow the scouts to deconstruct the cabins and reassemble them at Camp Loll.
The three cabins have been put to various uses over the years. The one that was the mess hall when I worked on staff is now the dormitory for the girls that work on camp staff. The roof of this cabin was replaced a few years ago, but it already needs some work. The middle cabin is presently known as the Danger Lodge. It is home to some of the ranger staff.
I really went along on this trip just to provide labor. My brother Lynn is an architect by trade. He is also currently the head of the scout council's Camp Loll committee. Not only is Lynn an architect, he's a very handy guy. Lynn likes doing projects, much as did our Dad. Lynn's good at it too. That talent bypassed me. So the best I can hope for when doing construction projects is to follow instructions with marginal effectiveness. Lynn measured out the project last season and figured out how it would go down.
As soon as the cabin was cleared out, we started working to tear out the floor. The floor had been put down by Jed Stringham, who was always thorough. So each sheet of plywood had many nails. It took us half an hour to rip up the first sheet. Then the ranger staff arrived. Eight strapping young men in their late teens and early 20s ripped, heaved, grunted, yelled, and heartily tore out the rest of the floor in about 45 minutes.
Lynn was surprised at the good quality of the floor joists. Still, there were some spacing problems. So we spent the next couple of hours fixing that issue. We finally got to laying the first sheet of plywood. This is ¾" thick high quality stuff. We decided to lay all of the whole sheets first and to lay the cut sheets after that.
The faux wall that was built atop of the flooring presented a problem. It was only held in place by a few nails, so we were able to get it to float free with a little work. But we still wanted to use the wall. So we continually had to jack it, move it, slide material under it, etc. But in the end it worked out OK. By the time the sun was setting we had all but the last course of plywood down.
We spent the evening in the lodge enjoying some of the staff training. It brought back old memories. Delose capped off the evening by reading the Oscar Wilde story of the Selfish Giant to the glow of a candle and a fire in the hearth.
Lynn and I took a quick tour of camp early in the morning. We were disappointed to discover that the foot bridge that we had constructed in the fall of 2010 had again sunk. We repaired it over last Labor Day weekend. But it has again sunk about 5-6" on the one side at both supports. We didn't have time to work on it, so that is a project that still needs doing. The swamp isn't as swampy in the area where we built the other bridge in 2009. That one is still quite solid.
We went back to work and got a couple of sheets of plywood laid before breakfast. We soon had most of the floor covered. But then we had to deal with spaces around the edges. Few log cabins are exactly square, so gaps are to be expected. We restored the wall (better than before) then cleaned everything up. Lynn worked on coating the floor with a protective varnish while I worked on putting away tools and excess materials.
After the second coat was put on the floor, we realized that it would need a third coat. But we lacked adequate materials. Delose promised that the crew that was in town would return with the needed stuff and that one of the two experienced painters on staff would paint the floor. Jody also promised to get some material that could be used for floor boards.
We were on the road back home by lunchtime, sore and bruised here and there. But we were happy with what we had been able to accomplish.
Lynn tells me that we will eventually need to repeat this project in the other two cabins and that the middle cabin will also need its roof replaced. So there is still plenty of work to be done. Any former staffers or others that may wish to help with these projects would be welcome to do so. Contact me and I will put you in touch with Lynn, who will help nail down specifics.
I have thought from time to time about why I keep going back to Camp Loll in my spare time to do volunteer work on the facilities. I guess it's because I remember going to camp there as a 12-year-old boy and then spending two summers working there in my older teen years. A lot of people I never met did a whole lot of work so that I could enjoy those summers at camp. Those summers changed my life for the better. Since I can't repay those workers, I guess I just want to pay it forward and give others the same kinds of opportunities I had as a kid.
The Ashton-Flagg Road still had a sign saying that it was closed for the season. It hadn't been graded recently. Yet it was in pretty good shape. We made good time. Along the way we passed the food service truck that was bringing provisions to the camp. At the speed it was going we figured the truck would arrive about an hour after our arrival. That estimate turned out to be fairly accurate.
It was overcast when we arrived at camp. It still felt quite cool. Despite it being a lower than average snow year, there was plenty of snow throughout the camp. The staff plans to start shoveling out critical areas tomorrow so that they can be mostly dry for the arrival of troops next Monday. The mosquitoes were about as thick as I expected they'd be, given the ample breeding grounds. 100% DEET repellent kept bites to a minimum.
Staff members were soon helping us clear out the cabin that is closest to the lake. Back when I worked on staff that building was the office, so we call it the old office. When my kids worked on staff they called it the guest cabin. We had a project over Labor Day weekend in 2010 to replace the roof on this cabin. The volunteer crew did a fine job.
This is one of three cabins at camp that was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps back in the 1930s to support the construction of the Grassy Lake Dam, which is just a few miles from Camp Loll. The scout council made a deal with the forest service back in the early 1960s to allow the scouts to deconstruct the cabins and reassemble them at Camp Loll.
The three cabins have been put to various uses over the years. The one that was the mess hall when I worked on staff is now the dormitory for the girls that work on camp staff. The roof of this cabin was replaced a few years ago, but it already needs some work. The middle cabin is presently known as the Danger Lodge. It is home to some of the ranger staff.
I really went along on this trip just to provide labor. My brother Lynn is an architect by trade. He is also currently the head of the scout council's Camp Loll committee. Not only is Lynn an architect, he's a very handy guy. Lynn likes doing projects, much as did our Dad. Lynn's good at it too. That talent bypassed me. So the best I can hope for when doing construction projects is to follow instructions with marginal effectiveness. Lynn measured out the project last season and figured out how it would go down.
As soon as the cabin was cleared out, we started working to tear out the floor. The floor had been put down by Jed Stringham, who was always thorough. So each sheet of plywood had many nails. It took us half an hour to rip up the first sheet. Then the ranger staff arrived. Eight strapping young men in their late teens and early 20s ripped, heaved, grunted, yelled, and heartily tore out the rest of the floor in about 45 minutes.
Lynn was surprised at the good quality of the floor joists. Still, there were some spacing problems. So we spent the next couple of hours fixing that issue. We finally got to laying the first sheet of plywood. This is ¾" thick high quality stuff. We decided to lay all of the whole sheets first and to lay the cut sheets after that.
The faux wall that was built atop of the flooring presented a problem. It was only held in place by a few nails, so we were able to get it to float free with a little work. But we still wanted to use the wall. So we continually had to jack it, move it, slide material under it, etc. But in the end it worked out OK. By the time the sun was setting we had all but the last course of plywood down.
We spent the evening in the lodge enjoying some of the staff training. It brought back old memories. Delose capped off the evening by reading the Oscar Wilde story of the Selfish Giant to the glow of a candle and a fire in the hearth.
Lynn and I took a quick tour of camp early in the morning. We were disappointed to discover that the foot bridge that we had constructed in the fall of 2010 had again sunk. We repaired it over last Labor Day weekend. But it has again sunk about 5-6" on the one side at both supports. We didn't have time to work on it, so that is a project that still needs doing. The swamp isn't as swampy in the area where we built the other bridge in 2009. That one is still quite solid.
We went back to work and got a couple of sheets of plywood laid before breakfast. We soon had most of the floor covered. But then we had to deal with spaces around the edges. Few log cabins are exactly square, so gaps are to be expected. We restored the wall (better than before) then cleaned everything up. Lynn worked on coating the floor with a protective varnish while I worked on putting away tools and excess materials.
After the second coat was put on the floor, we realized that it would need a third coat. But we lacked adequate materials. Delose promised that the crew that was in town would return with the needed stuff and that one of the two experienced painters on staff would paint the floor. Jody also promised to get some material that could be used for floor boards.
We were on the road back home by lunchtime, sore and bruised here and there. But we were happy with what we had been able to accomplish.
Lynn tells me that we will eventually need to repeat this project in the other two cabins and that the middle cabin will also need its roof replaced. So there is still plenty of work to be done. Any former staffers or others that may wish to help with these projects would be welcome to do so. Contact me and I will put you in touch with Lynn, who will help nail down specifics.
I have thought from time to time about why I keep going back to Camp Loll in my spare time to do volunteer work on the facilities. I guess it's because I remember going to camp there as a 12-year-old boy and then spending two summers working there in my older teen years. A lot of people I never met did a whole lot of work so that I could enjoy those summers at camp. Those summers changed my life for the better. Since I can't repay those workers, I guess I just want to pay it forward and give others the same kinds of opportunities I had as a kid.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
In a (Young Adult) People House
We still have most of the children's books that we got when our kids were young. We read many of these books to the kids over and over. Some books became such favorites that I can still recite large portions of them.
In a People House was one of my less favorite Dr. Seuss books. It doesn't rank anywhere near Green Eggs and Ham or One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. But I got to thinking about it recently as I observed the changes that have taken place in our 'people house' over the years.
We no longer have toddlers. Our kids are spread from elementary school to college. So it's been a while since we read beginner books. Most of the kids have turned into strong readers that can devour novels almost as fast as can their mother.
We no longer have to get up at night with crying babies. Schedules now vary broadly. I roll out a little after 4 AM on workdays. It is not uncommon for some of the young adults in the house to hit the sack only a couple of hours before I get up. That can present a bit of a challenge, especially when one of those young adults loves making (mostly musical) noise.
My kids have grown up with me exercising in the wee hours of the morning. I guess they're so used to it that the noise doesn't bother them that much. We have a room that is dedicated to exercise equipment, but that doesn't stop sound from traveling through the house, even with the door closed.
Many young adults are in a transitional state. They have technically achieved adulthood and expect many of the benefits that go along with that status. But they also expect many of the benefits of being a child. Moving from total dependence to total independence is a tricky dance that is sometimes confusing and awkward for parents and young adults. Not only are the dance steps not well defined, it's not clear when the music will end.
One of our young adults spent the last school year living out of town while attending a university. It wasn't so far out of town that we never saw him. Sometimes he'd be home two weekends in a row. Other times we didn't see him for a month. He has been living at home and doing online courses this summer. So we've had our whole gang at home for the past few weeks.
Before long, one of the young adults will be leaving to serve as a missionary overseas. We expect him to be gone for two years. It is looking like his brother will follow only a few months later, leaving us with just the younger three kids for quite a while.
By the time the older boys return the younger kids won't be so young any more, but they will all still be in school—three different schools. And there's no telling what the older boys will do at that time. We may be coming to the end of the time when all of our kids will live with us under the same roof.
Or maybe not. I didn't move out of my parents' house until I was in my mid-20s. But then I bought a house. Most of my brothers were out of the house at a younger age, but they weren't as well situated financially when they moved out.
We don't want to foster unnecessary dependency. But each child presents a unique case. It's not really possible to treat them exactly the same.
So it's hard to see very far into the future from this vantage point. We will just have to do as we've always done: make the best of the situations as they come along. I suspect that, like clumsy dancers on a dark dance floor, we will occasionally step on each others' feet.
In a People House was one of my less favorite Dr. Seuss books. It doesn't rank anywhere near Green Eggs and Ham or One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. But I got to thinking about it recently as I observed the changes that have taken place in our 'people house' over the years.
We no longer have toddlers. Our kids are spread from elementary school to college. So it's been a while since we read beginner books. Most of the kids have turned into strong readers that can devour novels almost as fast as can their mother.
We no longer have to get up at night with crying babies. Schedules now vary broadly. I roll out a little after 4 AM on workdays. It is not uncommon for some of the young adults in the house to hit the sack only a couple of hours before I get up. That can present a bit of a challenge, especially when one of those young adults loves making (mostly musical) noise.
My kids have grown up with me exercising in the wee hours of the morning. I guess they're so used to it that the noise doesn't bother them that much. We have a room that is dedicated to exercise equipment, but that doesn't stop sound from traveling through the house, even with the door closed.
Many young adults are in a transitional state. They have technically achieved adulthood and expect many of the benefits that go along with that status. But they also expect many of the benefits of being a child. Moving from total dependence to total independence is a tricky dance that is sometimes confusing and awkward for parents and young adults. Not only are the dance steps not well defined, it's not clear when the music will end.
One of our young adults spent the last school year living out of town while attending a university. It wasn't so far out of town that we never saw him. Sometimes he'd be home two weekends in a row. Other times we didn't see him for a month. He has been living at home and doing online courses this summer. So we've had our whole gang at home for the past few weeks.
Before long, one of the young adults will be leaving to serve as a missionary overseas. We expect him to be gone for two years. It is looking like his brother will follow only a few months later, leaving us with just the younger three kids for quite a while.
By the time the older boys return the younger kids won't be so young any more, but they will all still be in school—three different schools. And there's no telling what the older boys will do at that time. We may be coming to the end of the time when all of our kids will live with us under the same roof.
Or maybe not. I didn't move out of my parents' house until I was in my mid-20s. But then I bought a house. Most of my brothers were out of the house at a younger age, but they weren't as well situated financially when they moved out.
We don't want to foster unnecessary dependency. But each child presents a unique case. It's not really possible to treat them exactly the same.
So it's hard to see very far into the future from this vantage point. We will just have to do as we've always done: make the best of the situations as they come along. I suspect that, like clumsy dancers on a dark dance floor, we will occasionally step on each others' feet.
Monday, June 11, 2012
The Solution to Every Problem
I was recently discussing Utah's upcoming June 26 primary election with my adult son. (By the way, early voting starts today.) Due to my deeply entrenched political cynicism I remarked that all of the candidates (even those purporting to be libertarian-ish) effectively seek greater government control over our lives.
Some politicians give lip service to preserving and perhaps even expanding personal liberty, but none of them really believe it. At any rate, none of them will ultimately undertake actions that produce this result except as part of a gambit that achieves yet greater control. (Some even use a twisted definition of liberty that is indistinguishable from tyranny, albeit, with a 'benevolent' lilt.) Almost all political candidates believe in expanding the coercive powers of government in some way, although, they may disagree on exactly how the public should be coerced.
I suggested to my son that it is the nature of nearly all members of the political class (and wannabe members of this class) to view government as the natural tool for achieving social solutions, regardless of the nature of the problem. A significant portion of the population agrees, thereby, giving the political class license to pursue this course.
Should it not bother us that the solution to every problem or perceived problem is more government?
The thinking could be summed up like this:
Those that actually believe in expanding liberty generally do not become members of the political class. They have no interest in being part of that culture. Those that do venture into the political culture are either co-opted or spewed out.
When I go to the polls my choices are limited to those that will strive to expand government if given the chance. Some more and some less. I can only hope to make a marginal difference by voting for those that might lean toward the less side of this equation. Even this proposition is problematic. Except for those that have a well established record, it is exceptionally difficult to divine how candidates will act once in office.
We have been admonished to diligently seek for and uphold political actors that are good, honest, and wise (D&C 98:8-10). That's still a tall order. How many people that are good, honest, and wise end up on the ballot? Have you noticed what most successful (and even unsuccessful) political campaigns involve? And how wise can anyone be that espouses forms of tyranny? Sly, perhaps; but wise?
So, it is with frustration that I vote each time I go to the polls. I don't think the scripture cited above means that we can only vote for perfect people. But I don't think I'm demanding perfection of political candidates. It just seems that the selection is always limited to those that lean more or less toward tyranny rather than leaning more toward liberty. It seems like my votes come down to a question of how rapidly we will progress on the path toward tyranny.
Yes, I will vote. In fact, I will vote early. And I will be grateful that I live in a place and at a time where this is possible. But I will still be dissatisfied with the selection.
Some politicians give lip service to preserving and perhaps even expanding personal liberty, but none of them really believe it. At any rate, none of them will ultimately undertake actions that produce this result except as part of a gambit that achieves yet greater control. (Some even use a twisted definition of liberty that is indistinguishable from tyranny, albeit, with a 'benevolent' lilt.) Almost all political candidates believe in expanding the coercive powers of government in some way, although, they may disagree on exactly how the public should be coerced.
I suggested to my son that it is the nature of nearly all members of the political class (and wannabe members of this class) to view government as the natural tool for achieving social solutions, regardless of the nature of the problem. A significant portion of the population agrees, thereby, giving the political class license to pursue this course.
Should it not bother us that the solution to every problem or perceived problem is more government?
The thinking could be summed up like this:
- In the event of a market failure (or perceived market failure) the answer is more government.
- In the event of a government failure the answer is more government.
- In the event of someone doing something you don't like the answer is more government.
- In the event of someone thinking something you don't like the answer is more government.
- In the event of someone having 'too much' the answer is more government.
- In the event of someone having too little the answer is more government.
- In the event of A the answer is B, where A = any perceived problem and B = more government.
Those that actually believe in expanding liberty generally do not become members of the political class. They have no interest in being part of that culture. Those that do venture into the political culture are either co-opted or spewed out.
When I go to the polls my choices are limited to those that will strive to expand government if given the chance. Some more and some less. I can only hope to make a marginal difference by voting for those that might lean toward the less side of this equation. Even this proposition is problematic. Except for those that have a well established record, it is exceptionally difficult to divine how candidates will act once in office.
We have been admonished to diligently seek for and uphold political actors that are good, honest, and wise (D&C 98:8-10). That's still a tall order. How many people that are good, honest, and wise end up on the ballot? Have you noticed what most successful (and even unsuccessful) political campaigns involve? And how wise can anyone be that espouses forms of tyranny? Sly, perhaps; but wise?
So, it is with frustration that I vote each time I go to the polls. I don't think the scripture cited above means that we can only vote for perfect people. But I don't think I'm demanding perfection of political candidates. It just seems that the selection is always limited to those that lean more or less toward tyranny rather than leaning more toward liberty. It seems like my votes come down to a question of how rapidly we will progress on the path toward tyranny.
Yes, I will vote. In fact, I will vote early. And I will be grateful that I live in a place and at a time where this is possible. But I will still be dissatisfied with the selection.
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Bullying Mormons
I'm not sure how often a Brigham Young University professor gets published in the New York Times. It's probably rare. But this week the Times published this op-ed by J. Spencer Fluhman, assistant professor of history at BYU, under the provocative title Why We Fear Mormons.
For some reason, Mormons constitute the one significant religious group that many find morally acceptable to mock and denigrate. Anti-Mormonism has been around pretty much since the founding of the church in 1830. Many of the charges put forth by anti-Mormons are based in truths but are also rife with distortions. And any religion can be made to look weird from the outside looking in.
Most anti-Mormon attacks, says Fluhman, come from the secular left and the Evangelical right. "For the left," he writes, "Mormonism often functions as a stand-in for discomfort over religion generally." All religion is bizarre to many secularists. Mormonism is generally unpopular and happens to offer some more peculiar practices, so it makes for a nice foil.
"Anti-Mormon attacks by evangelicals" writes Fluhman, "have betrayed anxiety over the divisions in their movement and their slipping cultural authority as arbiters of religious authenticity." A common response to internal conflict is to foster an obsession with perceived external enemies to force unity via distraction.
Despite differing reasons for attacking Mormons, Fluhman sees a deeper underlying American root to the issue. "Making Mormons look bad helps others feel good. By imagining Mormons as intolerant rubes, or as heretical deviants, Americans from left and right can imagine they are, by contrast, tolerant, rational and truly Christian."
I suppose Fluhman should have written "moral" instead of "Christian" to include secularists.
In other words, people tend to lash out at unpopular Mormons to hide from their own inadequacies, just as bullies harass others in an attempt to elevate their own standing. Anti-Mormons foster a sense of 'other-ness' toward Mormons, viewing them as too unlike themselves to be considered fully accepted participants in society. This is not unlike the way established cultures have traditionally responded to recent immigrants.
Even if the next U.S. president ends up being a Mormon, Fluhman says that "until Americans work through our contradictory impulses regarding faith, diversity and freedom, there is no reason to believe anti-Mormonism will go away anytime soon."
That's OK. Mormons know that it goes with the territory.
For some reason, Mormons constitute the one significant religious group that many find morally acceptable to mock and denigrate. Anti-Mormonism has been around pretty much since the founding of the church in 1830. Many of the charges put forth by anti-Mormons are based in truths but are also rife with distortions. And any religion can be made to look weird from the outside looking in.
Most anti-Mormon attacks, says Fluhman, come from the secular left and the Evangelical right. "For the left," he writes, "Mormonism often functions as a stand-in for discomfort over religion generally." All religion is bizarre to many secularists. Mormonism is generally unpopular and happens to offer some more peculiar practices, so it makes for a nice foil.
"Anti-Mormon attacks by evangelicals" writes Fluhman, "have betrayed anxiety over the divisions in their movement and their slipping cultural authority as arbiters of religious authenticity." A common response to internal conflict is to foster an obsession with perceived external enemies to force unity via distraction.
Despite differing reasons for attacking Mormons, Fluhman sees a deeper underlying American root to the issue. "Making Mormons look bad helps others feel good. By imagining Mormons as intolerant rubes, or as heretical deviants, Americans from left and right can imagine they are, by contrast, tolerant, rational and truly Christian."
I suppose Fluhman should have written "moral" instead of "Christian" to include secularists.
In other words, people tend to lash out at unpopular Mormons to hide from their own inadequacies, just as bullies harass others in an attempt to elevate their own standing. Anti-Mormons foster a sense of 'other-ness' toward Mormons, viewing them as too unlike themselves to be considered fully accepted participants in society. This is not unlike the way established cultures have traditionally responded to recent immigrants.
Even if the next U.S. president ends up being a Mormon, Fluhman says that "until Americans work through our contradictory impulses regarding faith, diversity and freedom, there is no reason to believe anti-Mormonism will go away anytime soon."
That's OK. Mormons know that it goes with the territory.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
Is Not Voting OK?
I used to wonder why so few people voted on a consistent basis and why even fewer were politically active in determining who gets on the ballot in the first place. Don't people understand that our politicians' actions have an immense impact on our individual lives?
The answer to this conundrum is both complex and simple. For every action we can potentially take, there is a cost and a benefit. It may be more correct to say that inherent in each possible opportunity is a perceived package of costs and a perceived package of benefits.
At any given moment we weigh the perceived cost-benefit ratios of myriad potential activities against each other to decide how we will spend the next moment. All of these parts are moving: time, known opportunities, perceived costs, and perceived benefits. Past choices govern some of these factors. So our decisions can vary from situation to situation.
We also run cost-benefit analyses with respect to political activity. Despite the lifelong haranguing we get about the importance of doing our civic duty, the understood cost-benefit ratio of doing so often loses out to other opportunities for many people. How is it that these people place such a low net value on voting or more fundamental political activity?
We have all heard stories about how individuals have made big differences politically. Many of these tales amount to slick marketing by politicians, campaigns, and agenda-driven activists. But there is no denying that some individuals have achieved significant political results. These are the outliers—the rare few. Most can only hope to be part of a mass that produces some effect.
Voting exacts a cost. Unless voting in total ignorance is internally acceptable, time and effort must be spent to become somewhat informed. Some time and effort are required to cast a ballot.
And the benefit? Ah, there's the rub. Except at the most local level, an individual vote seldom has more value to the individual voter other than to produce a feeling. That is, the outcome of the race would likely have been no different if a given voter had failed to cast a ballot.
But even if the candidate the voter supports wins, how likely is it that the winner's activities in office will produce results that the voter wants? Elected officials respond to the incentives inherent in the political culture in which they operate. They act chiefly in their own interests within that culture. Their interests occasionally happen to coincide with those of the voter. As one observer put it, the lines of politics and morality run parallel and never intersect.
Moreover, many newly elected officials are shocked to discover the limits of their capacities to accomplish what they had hoped. Over the years we have built at every level of government a massive bureaucracy of unelected agents that usually goes on its merry way working to expand its reach and power, nearly heedless of the pesky politicians that go to the trouble of campaigning for office.
When potential voters run the cost-benefit ratio of voting vs. competing opportunities, it should not be surprising when some of them choose to do something else instead. They sense their own powerlessness and find little reason to undertake an exercise that will simply increase their frustration. It may be more appropriate to be astonished at how many people vote rather than how few people vote.
The low net individual value of a vote means that few voters put much effort into becoming truly informed of the issues. They understand that knowing about the issues will make little difference in the long run. The low vote benefit means that outside of political junkies few put the kind of effort into researching candidates and issues that the average person would put into the purchase of something like a car.
Given the low chances of a voter getting much of what she wants from a vote, most voters are likely to put less effort into political research than into what kind of shampoo to buy at the supermarket.
Members of the political class understand this all too well. Consequently, campaigns are not designed to inform voters, but to work on voters' emotions and tribal tendencies. They know that more people will vote if they feel like they are doing something for their 'team,' even if, in the long run, government mostly continues its current course regardless of which team wins. Style may differ—all part of the show, you understand—but form differs only slightly.
Although voters can't explain it themselves, many end up voting for the same reason that they cheer for a sports team. And their votes have about as much impact on the total scope of how government affects their lives as cheering at the TV has on the outcome of a sports game.
Political powerlessness is not lost on average Americans. Not voting is a perfectly rational response to this. It is at least as rational as voting on a tribal basis.
I used to think that non-voters had no right to complain about the state of our political systems. I now believe that my thinking on this point was wrong. For many non-voters the decision not to vote is their way of expressing frustration with their lack of power in the political system. They see voting as akin to banging their head against a wall. Suggesting that they have no right to comment on the system because the refuse to bang their head against a wall strikes me as narrow minded.
I have consistently voted since age 18, although, I often vote for candidates that do not win. I have been politically involved at the grass roots level. I used to deride those that didn't vote. But I now see this as an understandable political response and I am much less likely to be critical of non-voters.
The answer to this conundrum is both complex and simple. For every action we can potentially take, there is a cost and a benefit. It may be more correct to say that inherent in each possible opportunity is a perceived package of costs and a perceived package of benefits.
At any given moment we weigh the perceived cost-benefit ratios of myriad potential activities against each other to decide how we will spend the next moment. All of these parts are moving: time, known opportunities, perceived costs, and perceived benefits. Past choices govern some of these factors. So our decisions can vary from situation to situation.
We also run cost-benefit analyses with respect to political activity. Despite the lifelong haranguing we get about the importance of doing our civic duty, the understood cost-benefit ratio of doing so often loses out to other opportunities for many people. How is it that these people place such a low net value on voting or more fundamental political activity?
We have all heard stories about how individuals have made big differences politically. Many of these tales amount to slick marketing by politicians, campaigns, and agenda-driven activists. But there is no denying that some individuals have achieved significant political results. These are the outliers—the rare few. Most can only hope to be part of a mass that produces some effect.
Voting exacts a cost. Unless voting in total ignorance is internally acceptable, time and effort must be spent to become somewhat informed. Some time and effort are required to cast a ballot.
And the benefit? Ah, there's the rub. Except at the most local level, an individual vote seldom has more value to the individual voter other than to produce a feeling. That is, the outcome of the race would likely have been no different if a given voter had failed to cast a ballot.
But even if the candidate the voter supports wins, how likely is it that the winner's activities in office will produce results that the voter wants? Elected officials respond to the incentives inherent in the political culture in which they operate. They act chiefly in their own interests within that culture. Their interests occasionally happen to coincide with those of the voter. As one observer put it, the lines of politics and morality run parallel and never intersect.
Moreover, many newly elected officials are shocked to discover the limits of their capacities to accomplish what they had hoped. Over the years we have built at every level of government a massive bureaucracy of unelected agents that usually goes on its merry way working to expand its reach and power, nearly heedless of the pesky politicians that go to the trouble of campaigning for office.
When potential voters run the cost-benefit ratio of voting vs. competing opportunities, it should not be surprising when some of them choose to do something else instead. They sense their own powerlessness and find little reason to undertake an exercise that will simply increase their frustration. It may be more appropriate to be astonished at how many people vote rather than how few people vote.
The low net individual value of a vote means that few voters put much effort into becoming truly informed of the issues. They understand that knowing about the issues will make little difference in the long run. The low vote benefit means that outside of political junkies few put the kind of effort into researching candidates and issues that the average person would put into the purchase of something like a car.
Given the low chances of a voter getting much of what she wants from a vote, most voters are likely to put less effort into political research than into what kind of shampoo to buy at the supermarket.
Members of the political class understand this all too well. Consequently, campaigns are not designed to inform voters, but to work on voters' emotions and tribal tendencies. They know that more people will vote if they feel like they are doing something for their 'team,' even if, in the long run, government mostly continues its current course regardless of which team wins. Style may differ—all part of the show, you understand—but form differs only slightly.
Although voters can't explain it themselves, many end up voting for the same reason that they cheer for a sports team. And their votes have about as much impact on the total scope of how government affects their lives as cheering at the TV has on the outcome of a sports game.
Political powerlessness is not lost on average Americans. Not voting is a perfectly rational response to this. It is at least as rational as voting on a tribal basis.
I used to think that non-voters had no right to complain about the state of our political systems. I now believe that my thinking on this point was wrong. For many non-voters the decision not to vote is their way of expressing frustration with their lack of power in the political system. They see voting as akin to banging their head against a wall. Suggesting that they have no right to comment on the system because the refuse to bang their head against a wall strikes me as narrow minded.
I have consistently voted since age 18, although, I often vote for candidates that do not win. I have been politically involved at the grass roots level. I used to deride those that didn't vote. But I now see this as an understandable political response and I am much less likely to be critical of non-voters.
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
Our Economy Is Failing Due to Diminishing Human Capital
A few months ago I posted about how demographic decline will affect Baby Boomers' retirements. I noted that Baby Boomers had fewer children per person than did their parents. Funds (both public and private) invested for retirement rely upon the producers in the economy. Smaller numbers of producers per retiree translate to less growth of those funds. This means retiring later and living more frugally in retirement than many had hoped.
This really doesn't sound so bad, especially when contrasted with the longer term outlook. Mark Steyn paints a dismal picture of the economic future of the Western world in this article. Steyn refutes the argument that the West's current economic woes are cyclical and of a shorter term. Rather, due to demographic shift, these problems are structural and long-term.
Among Americans that are not blissfully unaware of Europe's current economic crisis there seems to be an 'aren't you glad we're not Europe' attitude. Steyn challenges this notion, saying, "In the twilight of the West, America and Europe are still different but only to this extent: They’ve wound up taking separate paths to the same destination." All Western countries have created unsustainable situations.
I found this passage of Steyn's particularly poignant: "[T]he unsustainable “bubble” is not student debt or subprime mortgages or anything else. The bubble is us, and the assumptions of entitlement. Too many citizens of advanced Western democracies live a life they have not earned, and are not willing to earn."
Steyn complains that we have reduced productive working years by increasing the length of childhood and retirement. The trouble is that those reduced working years are supposed to pay for everything else. When they don't, we have little compunction about "running up debt that will have to be repaid by our shrunken progeny."
To provide some perspective, Steyn notes that 100 Greek grandparents today have only 42 grandchildren. He asks, "Is it likely that 42 Greeks can repay the debts run up by 100 Greeks?" The Greeks plan to push their debt onto "the thriftier Germans." But the Germans are no better off demographically. How likely it is that 42 Germans will be able to shoulder the debt that 100 Germans currently struggle to manage?
There is no quick fix to the root problem. Human capital is the ultimate asset, but we've bought into the lie that it is a liability. Even if we recognize this fact, it takes a long time to ramp up and produce more children that become productive adults, if you can even get people to do the hard work of child rearing. Steyn puts it more bluntly when he says, "Look around you. The late-20th-century Western lifestyle isn’t going to be around much longer."
To illustrate what to expect, Steyn writes, "In a few years’ time, our children will look at old TV commercials showing retirees dancing, golfing, cruising away their sixties and seventies, and wonder what alternative universe that came from." The following generation "will be amazed to discover that in the early 21st century the Western world thought it entirely normal that vast swathes of the citizenry should while away their youth enjoying" lives of luxury that were available only to the wealthiest elites "a mere hundred years earlier."
Steyn goes on to say, "In the world after Western prosperity, we will work till we’re older and we will start younger — and we will despise those who thought they could defy not just the rules of economic gravity but the basic human life cycle."
Given human nature, I expect that most of us will choose to take the three monkeys approach to this problem. We will simply ignore it. We will cast about for leaders that promise to address the various symptoms of the base issue, all the while continuing to insist that we are entitled to what we think we deserve.
In the end, future generations will end up getting what we really deserve. They will be right to despise the self absorbed, self indulgent generations that preceded them.
This really doesn't sound so bad, especially when contrasted with the longer term outlook. Mark Steyn paints a dismal picture of the economic future of the Western world in this article. Steyn refutes the argument that the West's current economic woes are cyclical and of a shorter term. Rather, due to demographic shift, these problems are structural and long-term.
Among Americans that are not blissfully unaware of Europe's current economic crisis there seems to be an 'aren't you glad we're not Europe' attitude. Steyn challenges this notion, saying, "In the twilight of the West, America and Europe are still different but only to this extent: They’ve wound up taking separate paths to the same destination." All Western countries have created unsustainable situations.
I found this passage of Steyn's particularly poignant: "[T]he unsustainable “bubble” is not student debt or subprime mortgages or anything else. The bubble is us, and the assumptions of entitlement. Too many citizens of advanced Western democracies live a life they have not earned, and are not willing to earn."
Steyn complains that we have reduced productive working years by increasing the length of childhood and retirement. The trouble is that those reduced working years are supposed to pay for everything else. When they don't, we have little compunction about "running up debt that will have to be repaid by our shrunken progeny."
To provide some perspective, Steyn notes that 100 Greek grandparents today have only 42 grandchildren. He asks, "Is it likely that 42 Greeks can repay the debts run up by 100 Greeks?" The Greeks plan to push their debt onto "the thriftier Germans." But the Germans are no better off demographically. How likely it is that 42 Germans will be able to shoulder the debt that 100 Germans currently struggle to manage?
There is no quick fix to the root problem. Human capital is the ultimate asset, but we've bought into the lie that it is a liability. Even if we recognize this fact, it takes a long time to ramp up and produce more children that become productive adults, if you can even get people to do the hard work of child rearing. Steyn puts it more bluntly when he says, "Look around you. The late-20th-century Western lifestyle isn’t going to be around much longer."
To illustrate what to expect, Steyn writes, "In a few years’ time, our children will look at old TV commercials showing retirees dancing, golfing, cruising away their sixties and seventies, and wonder what alternative universe that came from." The following generation "will be amazed to discover that in the early 21st century the Western world thought it entirely normal that vast swathes of the citizenry should while away their youth enjoying" lives of luxury that were available only to the wealthiest elites "a mere hundred years earlier."
Steyn goes on to say, "In the world after Western prosperity, we will work till we’re older and we will start younger — and we will despise those who thought they could defy not just the rules of economic gravity but the basic human life cycle."
Given human nature, I expect that most of us will choose to take the three monkeys approach to this problem. We will simply ignore it. We will cast about for leaders that promise to address the various symptoms of the base issue, all the while continuing to insist that we are entitled to what we think we deserve.
In the end, future generations will end up getting what we really deserve. They will be right to despise the self absorbed, self indulgent generations that preceded them.
Monday, June 04, 2012
Here I Raise My Eben-Ezer
I have attended monthly LDS fast and testimony meetings since my earliest days. Over the years I have witnessed a variety of situations at these gatherings that cover the range from comical to bizarre to mundane to pure, sweet, and touching.
A cherished memory for our family occurred on a chilly December Sunday when our furnace went on the fritz. Our failure to adequately prepare meant that we had no alternate heat source. I ended up staying home while an emergency repair technician worked through the problem. My wife took our three young children to church.
My wife retreated to the mother's lounge during testimony meeting to nurse the baby, leaving our six- and four-year-old seated on the bench in the chapel. To my wife's astonishment, she heard our six-year-old's voice come over the speaker in the mother's lounge. This was unusual because this child has never liked the limelight nor cared for public speaking.
Our son started off with the usual things kids say when they get up to share their testimonies. He then launched into a long, rambling monologue that covered many spiritually unrelated points, some of which were punctuated by the congregation's laughter. My wife was in the middle of breast feeding the baby and was in no position to do anything about our long winded son.
As minute after agonizing minute ticked by, my wife hoped in vain that a member of the bishopric would put an end to our son's discourse. The child finally decided he was done talking after more than seven seemingly endless minutes at the microphone. My embarrassed wife tried to be inconspicuous as she slipped back into the chapel a few minutes later.
After the meeting, various ward members good naturedly complemented my wife on our son's 'testimony.' They thought it was one of the funniest things they had ever experienced at church. The humor was enhanced by the fact that they understood my wife's predicament and perceived her discomfort.
One February when I was serving in the bishopric, we started off testimony meeting with the customary bishopric member, followed by the usual handful of children. And then ... silence. For the next 20+ minutes. It was one of the more uncomfortable public situations I experienced while serving in that position.
Finally, a brother who was a fairly recent convert and had recently moved to the area got up. He said that he wasn't sure what they called this kind of thing in Utah, but that in the branch from which he had moved it was called a branch president's nightmare. He bore a beautiful witness, but he also gently chided the members of the congregation for their unwillingness to publicly testify of Christ.
That was better than my response, which was to stew in my seat and judge my fellow congregants, assuming that their thoughts and hearts were dwelling on the Super Bowl being broadcast instead of on their Savior and his gospel. Perhaps some of them were simply enjoying the reverent atmosphere in a worshipful spirit.
One of my sons tried walking a more worldly path for a few years. My phone ringtone for him was a clip from the Kansas song, Carry On My Wayward Son. This young man has made immense spiritual strides over the past year. His theme song has become Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. (His favorite line is, "Let thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to thee.")
My wife was unfortunately out of town the Sunday this son got up and bore a brief, heartfelt testimony for the first time in years. I listened to my son with a sense of awe, tenderness, and gratitude. His words may have sounded awkward to many in the congregation, but to me they were like "some melodious sonnet Sung by flaming tongues above."
LDS testimony meetings are not perfect. Indeed, our faults as a people may be more visibly on display here than in any other public setting. It's easy to think snide thoughts and to make cynical comments about these meetings. But such scoffing fails to explain why Mormon people worldwide attend these meetings month after month. Such harshness also interferes with the gentle workings of the Holy Spirit, preventing one from enjoying the spiritual feast that is readily available in these settings.
I suspect that future testimony meetings will bring many additional funny, strange, and banal testimonies. But I hope these meetings will bring many deeply joyful and spiritual experiences as well. How I experience these gatherings will depend greatly on my personal disposition. Lord, please "Tune my heart to sing Thy grace."
A cherished memory for our family occurred on a chilly December Sunday when our furnace went on the fritz. Our failure to adequately prepare meant that we had no alternate heat source. I ended up staying home while an emergency repair technician worked through the problem. My wife took our three young children to church.
My wife retreated to the mother's lounge during testimony meeting to nurse the baby, leaving our six- and four-year-old seated on the bench in the chapel. To my wife's astonishment, she heard our six-year-old's voice come over the speaker in the mother's lounge. This was unusual because this child has never liked the limelight nor cared for public speaking.
Our son started off with the usual things kids say when they get up to share their testimonies. He then launched into a long, rambling monologue that covered many spiritually unrelated points, some of which were punctuated by the congregation's laughter. My wife was in the middle of breast feeding the baby and was in no position to do anything about our long winded son.
As minute after agonizing minute ticked by, my wife hoped in vain that a member of the bishopric would put an end to our son's discourse. The child finally decided he was done talking after more than seven seemingly endless minutes at the microphone. My embarrassed wife tried to be inconspicuous as she slipped back into the chapel a few minutes later.
After the meeting, various ward members good naturedly complemented my wife on our son's 'testimony.' They thought it was one of the funniest things they had ever experienced at church. The humor was enhanced by the fact that they understood my wife's predicament and perceived her discomfort.
One February when I was serving in the bishopric, we started off testimony meeting with the customary bishopric member, followed by the usual handful of children. And then ... silence. For the next 20+ minutes. It was one of the more uncomfortable public situations I experienced while serving in that position.
Finally, a brother who was a fairly recent convert and had recently moved to the area got up. He said that he wasn't sure what they called this kind of thing in Utah, but that in the branch from which he had moved it was called a branch president's nightmare. He bore a beautiful witness, but he also gently chided the members of the congregation for their unwillingness to publicly testify of Christ.
That was better than my response, which was to stew in my seat and judge my fellow congregants, assuming that their thoughts and hearts were dwelling on the Super Bowl being broadcast instead of on their Savior and his gospel. Perhaps some of them were simply enjoying the reverent atmosphere in a worshipful spirit.
One of my sons tried walking a more worldly path for a few years. My phone ringtone for him was a clip from the Kansas song, Carry On My Wayward Son. This young man has made immense spiritual strides over the past year. His theme song has become Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. (His favorite line is, "Let thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to thee.")
My wife was unfortunately out of town the Sunday this son got up and bore a brief, heartfelt testimony for the first time in years. I listened to my son with a sense of awe, tenderness, and gratitude. His words may have sounded awkward to many in the congregation, but to me they were like "some melodious sonnet Sung by flaming tongues above."
LDS testimony meetings are not perfect. Indeed, our faults as a people may be more visibly on display here than in any other public setting. It's easy to think snide thoughts and to make cynical comments about these meetings. But such scoffing fails to explain why Mormon people worldwide attend these meetings month after month. Such harshness also interferes with the gentle workings of the Holy Spirit, preventing one from enjoying the spiritual feast that is readily available in these settings.
I suspect that future testimony meetings will bring many additional funny, strange, and banal testimonies. But I hope these meetings will bring many deeply joyful and spiritual experiences as well. How I experience these gatherings will depend greatly on my personal disposition. Lord, please "Tune my heart to sing Thy grace."
Thursday, May 31, 2012
The Myth of the Job You Love
When I was in 7th grade one of my teachers told us that the key to a happy career was to find a job doing something that you love to do. He read an article to us about a highly paid lawyer that discovered that he hated legal work. So he quit, went back to school, and eventually ended up as a professor of music. He was paid far less, but he loved his job.
Similar scenarios were repeated from time to time throughout my school years as a regular parade of people regaled us with tales of job-loving workers. The promoters of these narratives weren't always teachers. Sometimes they were paid consultants or people from various agencies. I even got some of this same counsel at church.
I was a newspaper carrier during most of the years this was going on. I didn't hate my job. But I sure didn't love it. Then I spent a summer planting pineapples in Hawaii. Yeah, it sounds exotic. But it was hard and boring manual agricultural labor. Nice climate; lousy job. I spent a couple of months working at a McDonald's restaurant before leaving to find something that I disliked less and that had better hours.
Setting up and cleaning up for a small company that did wedding receptions was OK, as was doing janitorial work for an architectural firm. I worked for a floral shop putting together pine bough wreaths for the Christmas season in a cold shed. I occasionally delivered flowers for the shop, which was kind of fun.
Finally I spent a summer working as a counselor at a Scout camp. The days were long and were regularly punctuated by hard work and trying circumstances. But I loved it. While I had found a job that I loved, it was seasonal work and it paid only enough to cover the cost of required uniforms. I could love the job, but I couldn't make any money at it.
After that summer I worked checking and bagging groceries at a local market. That was tolerable but not much in the way of lovable.
Then one day it dawned on me that all of the advice about finding a job I loved was little more than feel-good claptrap. How many people did I know that actually loved their jobs? I realized that few if any of the people that had told me to find a job I loved had followed that advice themselves. There's the rare person who loves their job, but for most people their job is ... just a job.
Over the years I have worked at lots of jobs. I have generally been happy to get the work and I have always been happy to get paid. Some jobs have suited me better than others. Few of them have been intolerable. Most of my jobs have been more or less fine, but I can't really say that I have ever had an actual paying job that I just loved.
Actually, I think that advising youngsters to go on a quest for the perfect "meaningful" job can be harmful. In real life, you don't get paid to do what you love to do. You get paid for doing something that somebody else needs to have done. Doing what you love to do is called recreation, and you generally pay to do it rather than getting paid for doing it. Jobs are called work because they involve a healthy dose of drudgery.
Telling kids to get a job doing something they love could lead to a lifetime of job disappointment and a feeling that they are entitled to something that is unlikely to happen. It could keep them from getting productive work while they are young, as they sit around waiting for a 'good' job to come along instead of following the tried and true pattern of starting out doing menial work and working up. Dude, it's hard to get paid much for playing video games and posting social media updates.
In reality, you do not need a job you love or a job that is meaningful, whatever that means. You need a job that you can tolerate and that provides sufficient compensation for your needs. You should find fulfillment in your work from time to time, but you should also expect to find a whole lot of drudgery. You can do what you love to do when you're on your own time.
It may actually be helpful to warn kids about finding work doing something that they love to do. They may discover that turning a beloved activity into a job kills enjoyment and turns the undertaking into drudgery. Or they may find themselves becoming so engrossed in their job that they neglect more important aspects of life.
Rather than teaching kids to look for some kind of ideal employment, teach them to find fulfillment in being a productive member of society and in building life enriching relationships. If they happen to find a job doing something they love to do along the way, they will be among the lucky few that win life's lottery. But they should know that they don't need a job like that to be happy and to have a satisfying career.
Similar scenarios were repeated from time to time throughout my school years as a regular parade of people regaled us with tales of job-loving workers. The promoters of these narratives weren't always teachers. Sometimes they were paid consultants or people from various agencies. I even got some of this same counsel at church.
I was a newspaper carrier during most of the years this was going on. I didn't hate my job. But I sure didn't love it. Then I spent a summer planting pineapples in Hawaii. Yeah, it sounds exotic. But it was hard and boring manual agricultural labor. Nice climate; lousy job. I spent a couple of months working at a McDonald's restaurant before leaving to find something that I disliked less and that had better hours.
Setting up and cleaning up for a small company that did wedding receptions was OK, as was doing janitorial work for an architectural firm. I worked for a floral shop putting together pine bough wreaths for the Christmas season in a cold shed. I occasionally delivered flowers for the shop, which was kind of fun.
Finally I spent a summer working as a counselor at a Scout camp. The days were long and were regularly punctuated by hard work and trying circumstances. But I loved it. While I had found a job that I loved, it was seasonal work and it paid only enough to cover the cost of required uniforms. I could love the job, but I couldn't make any money at it.
After that summer I worked checking and bagging groceries at a local market. That was tolerable but not much in the way of lovable.
Then one day it dawned on me that all of the advice about finding a job I loved was little more than feel-good claptrap. How many people did I know that actually loved their jobs? I realized that few if any of the people that had told me to find a job I loved had followed that advice themselves. There's the rare person who loves their job, but for most people their job is ... just a job.
Over the years I have worked at lots of jobs. I have generally been happy to get the work and I have always been happy to get paid. Some jobs have suited me better than others. Few of them have been intolerable. Most of my jobs have been more or less fine, but I can't really say that I have ever had an actual paying job that I just loved.
Actually, I think that advising youngsters to go on a quest for the perfect "meaningful" job can be harmful. In real life, you don't get paid to do what you love to do. You get paid for doing something that somebody else needs to have done. Doing what you love to do is called recreation, and you generally pay to do it rather than getting paid for doing it. Jobs are called work because they involve a healthy dose of drudgery.
Telling kids to get a job doing something they love could lead to a lifetime of job disappointment and a feeling that they are entitled to something that is unlikely to happen. It could keep them from getting productive work while they are young, as they sit around waiting for a 'good' job to come along instead of following the tried and true pattern of starting out doing menial work and working up. Dude, it's hard to get paid much for playing video games and posting social media updates.
In reality, you do not need a job you love or a job that is meaningful, whatever that means. You need a job that you can tolerate and that provides sufficient compensation for your needs. You should find fulfillment in your work from time to time, but you should also expect to find a whole lot of drudgery. You can do what you love to do when you're on your own time.
It may actually be helpful to warn kids about finding work doing something that they love to do. They may discover that turning a beloved activity into a job kills enjoyment and turns the undertaking into drudgery. Or they may find themselves becoming so engrossed in their job that they neglect more important aspects of life.
Rather than teaching kids to look for some kind of ideal employment, teach them to find fulfillment in being a productive member of society and in building life enriching relationships. If they happen to find a job doing something they love to do along the way, they will be among the lucky few that win life's lottery. But they should know that they don't need a job like that to be happy and to have a satisfying career.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Almost Everyone Cheats: Do You?
The vast majority of us are dishonest. So says behavior professor Dan Ariely in this fascinating article. Ariely describes various tests he and his team used to measure honesty and explains his team's conclusions. Some of the more salient points include:
This Businessweek article provides an interesting side note to the integrity issue. Ariely and colleague Francesca Gino say that creative people are more dishonest. The article says that "creativity fuels dishonesty and that dishonest behavior triggers creativity." The researchers suggest that creative people are better at rationalizing their unethical behavior.
I could not tell from Ariely's article whether reminding people of moral codes away from the point of behavior is effective. For example, do people that attend church regularly behave more honorably than those that don't? Perhaps more research is needed to find out.
Various studies have been done over the years to try to measure the effect of church attendance on honesty, but results have been inconclusive, partially due to poor study design. For example, reliance on survey responses as opposed to actual observed behavior means that you are relying on people to self report their dishonesty. How accurate can such a measure be? It's like relying on an individual's own math to test whether he is a good mathematician.
It would also be interesting to find out what effect continuously reminding people of moral codes has on ethical behavior. Would effectiveness constantly increase or would there be a saturation point where effectiveness levels off?
For most people, then, the question is not whether they are honest or dishonest, but how dishonest they can be without violating their personal sense of honor. Ariely says that "many good people cheat just a little here and there. We fib to round up our billable hours, claim higher losses on our insurance claims, recommend unnecessary treatments and so on."
Society cannot make us reliably honest. That requires personal choice and determination. I suppose that each of us ought to seriously face the questions of how much dishonesty makes us dishonest, and how much our personal integrity is worth.
- Only a few people are nearly always honest and only a few are seriously dishonest.
- Most people are dishonest right up to the point that they believe their personal integrity is at stake. They are only a little dishonest.
- The seriously dishonest impose marginal costs on society. Although each may cheat much, their relatively small number makes for small total cost.
- Those that are a little dishonest impose large costs on society. Although each may cheat only a little, their huge number makes for major impact.
- Dishonesty by the many is related to opportunity; it is not significantly tied to the amount of gain or even the chance of being caught.
- Dishonesty is contagious in two ways. 1) People observing others being dishonest (especially with no apparent negative consequences) tend to behave more dishonestly than normal. 2) Those engaging in one kind of dishonest behavior (i.e. wearing fake designer fashions) tend to more readily engage in other dishonest behavior.
- Increasing the psychological distance between the behavior and the payoff tends to increase dishonesty. More immediate payoff reduces dishonesty.
- Mental and/or physical stress can increase dishonesty.
- A desire to please the group can increase dishonesty and can be excused as helpful.
- Reminding people of moral codes at the point of potential dishonesty severely curtails the behavior. This worked even when atheists swore on a Bible. (Although, the moral codes don't have to be religiously based to be effective.)
This Businessweek article provides an interesting side note to the integrity issue. Ariely and colleague Francesca Gino say that creative people are more dishonest. The article says that "creativity fuels dishonesty and that dishonest behavior triggers creativity." The researchers suggest that creative people are better at rationalizing their unethical behavior.
I could not tell from Ariely's article whether reminding people of moral codes away from the point of behavior is effective. For example, do people that attend church regularly behave more honorably than those that don't? Perhaps more research is needed to find out.
Various studies have been done over the years to try to measure the effect of church attendance on honesty, but results have been inconclusive, partially due to poor study design. For example, reliance on survey responses as opposed to actual observed behavior means that you are relying on people to self report their dishonesty. How accurate can such a measure be? It's like relying on an individual's own math to test whether he is a good mathematician.
It would also be interesting to find out what effect continuously reminding people of moral codes has on ethical behavior. Would effectiveness constantly increase or would there be a saturation point where effectiveness levels off?
For most people, then, the question is not whether they are honest or dishonest, but how dishonest they can be without violating their personal sense of honor. Ariely says that "many good people cheat just a little here and there. We fib to round up our billable hours, claim higher losses on our insurance claims, recommend unnecessary treatments and so on."
Society cannot make us reliably honest. That requires personal choice and determination. I suppose that each of us ought to seriously face the questions of how much dishonesty makes us dishonest, and how much our personal integrity is worth.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Why Should We Remember the Titans?
I don't often sit down to watch TV or to watch a movie. On a recent rainy Saturday my wife and I sat down to watch Remember the Titans. I had heard about the film for years and had seen video clips from the film. I'm no sports fan, but I understood that the film was a triumphal movie about far more than football.
Our youngest son joined us to watch the film. We found it necessary to pause the film from time to time to explain the history and culture behind the racial tensions depicted. Although my son has a pretty good grounding in the history of slavery and the Civil War, and has been taught for years about the civil rights movement, he simply had no context for understanding early 1970s race issues, especially with respect to the South.
It took me quite a bit of explaining before my son could even begin to fathom some of the movie scenes that showed racially charged events. He just could not seem to grasp why anyone would consider someone superior or inferior on the basis of race. He couldn't figure out why anyone should be treated differently on the basis of race. It made no sense to him.
My son attends school with people of various races. To him, all of these are just people. Sure, people look different. But, so what?
I greatly enjoyed the 12-year-old film, which portrays football as the catalyst for overcoming the harsh realities of culturally enforced racism. The coaches are depicted as heroes, but interviews with the actual coaches included in the bonus features make it clear that they did not see themselves that way. They gave much of the credit to the boys on the team. They seemed to suggest that youth often have the ability to transcend issues that stymie adults.
In truth, the film is about far more than football or racism. It's about the triumph of the human spirit. We tend to love stories of this nature because we have all had a taste of this kind of accomplishment and because such stories speak to the best that is within each of us.
I was glad for an opportunity to discuss our nation's history of racism. I would no more want to hide the truth of these ugly episodes than I would want to bury the history of the Holocaust. Our country is still far from perfect when it comes to racial issues. But I think my son's attitudes about race show how far we've come in the past 40 years.
Our youngest son joined us to watch the film. We found it necessary to pause the film from time to time to explain the history and culture behind the racial tensions depicted. Although my son has a pretty good grounding in the history of slavery and the Civil War, and has been taught for years about the civil rights movement, he simply had no context for understanding early 1970s race issues, especially with respect to the South.
It took me quite a bit of explaining before my son could even begin to fathom some of the movie scenes that showed racially charged events. He just could not seem to grasp why anyone would consider someone superior or inferior on the basis of race. He couldn't figure out why anyone should be treated differently on the basis of race. It made no sense to him.
My son attends school with people of various races. To him, all of these are just people. Sure, people look different. But, so what?
I greatly enjoyed the 12-year-old film, which portrays football as the catalyst for overcoming the harsh realities of culturally enforced racism. The coaches are depicted as heroes, but interviews with the actual coaches included in the bonus features make it clear that they did not see themselves that way. They gave much of the credit to the boys on the team. They seemed to suggest that youth often have the ability to transcend issues that stymie adults.
In truth, the film is about far more than football or racism. It's about the triumph of the human spirit. We tend to love stories of this nature because we have all had a taste of this kind of accomplishment and because such stories speak to the best that is within each of us.
I was glad for an opportunity to discuss our nation's history of racism. I would no more want to hide the truth of these ugly episodes than I would want to bury the history of the Holocaust. Our country is still far from perfect when it comes to racial issues. But I think my son's attitudes about race show how far we've come in the past 40 years.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Intestinal humor: is it only a guy thing?
Speaking came early for son #2. We have video of him standing in the bathtub at 18 months of age rattling off full sentences and paragraphs. Of course, articulation came later, so it's hard to understand him in the video. You might think he's just making noise. But, no, he's actually talking and what he's saying makes sense.
After learning to talk, my son almost never stopped talking for the next 12 or so years, except for when he was asleep. Don't worry, because son #4 has picked up where he left off.
Son #2 started experimenting with making noise at an early age. He plays a dozen musical instruments and has worked hard on developing an amazing vocal range. He has written and performed various types of music ranging from classical to metal core.
My son has tried to explain to me how he experiences sound. If I understand it correctly, it is as if he perceives sound with an additional dimension that most people don't hear. Maybe it's like synesthesia.
We have four sons. My wife was shocked as her sons started to grow up at how readily they found humor in normal bodily functions. Having had only brothers, and having spent years working with Boy Scouts, I couldn't see what the big deal was. One of the first lessons I learned after we married was that it was inappropriate to ever experience an escape of gastric gas (either from the attic or the basement) without verbally excusing oneself.
A couple of months after the aforementioned bathtub event, I picked up sons #1 and #2 from the baby sitter, strapped them into their car seats, and started to drive down the street. One of the boys passed gas and both of them broke out laughing. I immediately tried to play the role of the responsible father. In an effort to play down the comedy factor, I explained that this is a normal body function, like sleeping.
Son #2, who was about 20 or 21 months old at that time bluntly said, "Dad, farts are funny." I literally pulled over to the side of the road and stopped because I was laughing so hard. This is a favorite family story that always seems close to the consciousness of my children.
I thought about this story when I saw this clip of Christian comedian John Branyan:
I used to think laughing at intestinal gas was only a boy thing. Then we had a daughter. Now, it may be that having only brothers she has little choice other than to become steeped in boy-lore. But she also seems to find great humor in the body's less sanguine functions.
Yet another Christian comedian, Brad Stine has this take on flatulence:
Seriously folks, gas happens. How you respond to it is up to you. Some choose to see humor in it. Others suppress the amusement factor. But, if John Branyan is right, stifling the jocularity could be as bad for your health as stifling the passage of gas. This site claims that the following epitaph is engraved on a headstone:
Wherever you may be
Let your wind blow free.
For holding it in
Was the killing of me.
With all of the seriousness of life, don't forget to have some fun on occasion. And ladies, lighten up on us guys. We can't help but laugh.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Broken Trust
I arrived as a missionary in Norway a few days before Easter, which is one of that nation's major holidays, and which like its many other religious holidays, is observed in a mostly non-religious manner. I was amazed to see the whole country (except for convenience stores, tourist spots, and limited mass transit) shut down from noon on Wednesday until the following Tuesday morning.
I was soon feeling queasy in a smoking car on a northbound train. Two missionaries met me at a train station many hours later, where for the first time I saw a bizarre gang of punk rockers. The missionaries helped me haul my gear to their apartment where I crashed on the floor for the night. The next morning I boarded a train bound for a town in North Norway where the next nearest full-time LDS missionaries would be 300 miles away. There was still a lot of snow up there.
Norway is a long, skinny county that stretches some 1,200 miles from top to bottom. Regardless of where they live, most Norwegians will concede that North Norwegians are different from those that hail from the far more populous southern third of the country. Those from the south often say this with some derogation. North Norwegians wear it as a badge of honor and seem to revel in their cultural peculiarities.
I was soon introduced to Sister Å., who for years had been a surrogate mom to the missionaries that served in this town of about 18,000. Her husband, Brother Å. was not a member of the church. But he was a very nice guy that would help us out whenever needed. He was also pretty good at playing the fiddle. Their son was serving as a missionary in England.
The Å's were wonderful people. Although our apartment was far from their home, they lived close to the center of town, an area we frequented. They allowed us to drop by just about anytime. We sometimes went there for a respite from the hard realities of proselyting among irreligious people.
On some visits I was allowed to pull out large hardbound comic books that belonged to the Å's son. It was surprising how much useful Norwegian I picked up by reading these books, which put words and pictures together in a most propitious manner.
Most visits to the Å's were pleasant occasions that left us uplifted and often fed. Then one day was different. Sister Å. was somber when she let us in. She seemed to want to be alone. I suggested to my companion, Elder Pease that we leave. But he felt that this was precisely the time that Sister Å. needed someone.
Elder Pease was right. Before long Sister Å. started talking. Her composure increasingly gave away as she talked. Eventually she blurted out that Brother Å. was having an extramarital affair. "Don't get me wrong," she said; "He's a good man at heart and I love him. He's a good father to our son."
Sister Å. explained how she had known for many years that Brother Å. had a mistress on the other side of town. Despite her husband's infidelity, Sister Å. intended to remain loyal. But she admitted through tears of anguish that "Sometimes it just hurts and I have to cry."
Elder Pease was far better at providing comfort than me. But in the end, our efforts seemed clumsy and ineffective. What did I know at age 19 of such matters? After a while, Sister Å. apologized for burdening us. We prayed with her before heading on our way. I always felt awkward whenever I was in Brother Å's company after that.
Within a few weeks I was transferred hundreds of miles away. A few months before the end of my mission while I was traveling with the mission president I saw Sister Å. at a church meeting. We were only in town overnight, so we didn't get time for a personal visit. I don't know how Sister Å's story ends.
Sister Å. was a loyal sort with a big heart, ever willing to reach out and help anyone in need. She made those first few months in the mission field more bearable by acting like a second mom to me. She introduced me to the only person with whom I worked as a missionary (of which I know) that both joined the church and remained faithful.
After Sister Å's disclosure to us, it was difficult for my 19-year-old self to understand why she insisted on staying wither her husband. I was too inexperienced to understand such real life complexities.
Brother Å. never had an unkind word for his wife. Unlike some others I knew, he was always gentle both verbally and physically. But I think his infidelity harmed his wife in less visible but more insidious ways. It still saddens me to think of this good woman being mistreated so. I wonder if Brother Å. ever saw in his wife the pain we saw that day. Though many years have passed, I still wince inside when I think about it.
I was soon feeling queasy in a smoking car on a northbound train. Two missionaries met me at a train station many hours later, where for the first time I saw a bizarre gang of punk rockers. The missionaries helped me haul my gear to their apartment where I crashed on the floor for the night. The next morning I boarded a train bound for a town in North Norway where the next nearest full-time LDS missionaries would be 300 miles away. There was still a lot of snow up there.
Norway is a long, skinny county that stretches some 1,200 miles from top to bottom. Regardless of where they live, most Norwegians will concede that North Norwegians are different from those that hail from the far more populous southern third of the country. Those from the south often say this with some derogation. North Norwegians wear it as a badge of honor and seem to revel in their cultural peculiarities.
I was soon introduced to Sister Å., who for years had been a surrogate mom to the missionaries that served in this town of about 18,000. Her husband, Brother Å. was not a member of the church. But he was a very nice guy that would help us out whenever needed. He was also pretty good at playing the fiddle. Their son was serving as a missionary in England.
The Å's were wonderful people. Although our apartment was far from their home, they lived close to the center of town, an area we frequented. They allowed us to drop by just about anytime. We sometimes went there for a respite from the hard realities of proselyting among irreligious people.
On some visits I was allowed to pull out large hardbound comic books that belonged to the Å's son. It was surprising how much useful Norwegian I picked up by reading these books, which put words and pictures together in a most propitious manner.
Most visits to the Å's were pleasant occasions that left us uplifted and often fed. Then one day was different. Sister Å. was somber when she let us in. She seemed to want to be alone. I suggested to my companion, Elder Pease that we leave. But he felt that this was precisely the time that Sister Å. needed someone.
Elder Pease was right. Before long Sister Å. started talking. Her composure increasingly gave away as she talked. Eventually she blurted out that Brother Å. was having an extramarital affair. "Don't get me wrong," she said; "He's a good man at heart and I love him. He's a good father to our son."
Sister Å. explained how she had known for many years that Brother Å. had a mistress on the other side of town. Despite her husband's infidelity, Sister Å. intended to remain loyal. But she admitted through tears of anguish that "Sometimes it just hurts and I have to cry."
Elder Pease was far better at providing comfort than me. But in the end, our efforts seemed clumsy and ineffective. What did I know at age 19 of such matters? After a while, Sister Å. apologized for burdening us. We prayed with her before heading on our way. I always felt awkward whenever I was in Brother Å's company after that.
Within a few weeks I was transferred hundreds of miles away. A few months before the end of my mission while I was traveling with the mission president I saw Sister Å. at a church meeting. We were only in town overnight, so we didn't get time for a personal visit. I don't know how Sister Å's story ends.
Sister Å. was a loyal sort with a big heart, ever willing to reach out and help anyone in need. She made those first few months in the mission field more bearable by acting like a second mom to me. She introduced me to the only person with whom I worked as a missionary (of which I know) that both joined the church and remained faithful.
After Sister Å's disclosure to us, it was difficult for my 19-year-old self to understand why she insisted on staying wither her husband. I was too inexperienced to understand such real life complexities.
Brother Å. never had an unkind word for his wife. Unlike some others I knew, he was always gentle both verbally and physically. But I think his infidelity harmed his wife in less visible but more insidious ways. It still saddens me to think of this good woman being mistreated so. I wonder if Brother Å. ever saw in his wife the pain we saw that day. Though many years have passed, I still wince inside when I think about it.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Dealing With Job Loss
Within the past week two friends have asked for any help or leads I could provide in finding a new job. One was laid off many months ago but still hasn't found work. Another has been informed that he will soon be laid off because his operation is moving to another state. Both are middle-aged workers with deep experience in their respective fields. Each has been used to earning a good salary.
As I sat thinking about my friends' predicaments, my mind stepped back to the day after I was laid off from a professional level job. Per instructions in my severance package, I drove to a local unemployment office to attend an outplacement seminar. The gray skies and rain matched my mood.
As I entered the building and shook the wet from my jacket, I was directed to a room with about 60 chairs. Although I have a habit of sitting near the front at meetings, I chose an empty row about 2/3rds of the way back and sat down to wait for the meeting to start.
Within a few minutes more than half of the seats were occupied. I looked around at the seated men and women, most of whom seemed to be near my age or older. I saw more than a few brows knitted with worry.
One burly fellow nervously chewed on his pen while puzzling over the booklets and forms that had been distributed. One lady looked like she'd just been punched in the stomach. One man with a weathered face sat with his jaw clenched and his forearms solidly resting on his thighs as he intently stared at nothing. A couple nearby gazed blankly ahead with emotionless faces. None of the attendees looked happy. Most simply looked uncomfortable.
As presenters took turns providing information about options, available help, and what steps to follow, the interchange soon revealed that many in the room were manufacturing floor workers that had been laid off from a government contracting business whose contracts were drying up. It was clear that many had expected to spend their entire career with this employer.
The questions asked also showed that many of these folks were worried about life's new realities. For years they had been handsomely paid, but few had much in the way of savings. The likelihood of finding a job that paid anywhere near their accustomed wage was very low. Some had spent years doing government mandated jobs that had become obsolete in private industry. Some voiced concerns about finding a job while being past their prime. The sense of despair in the room was palpable.
I sat in my seat silently praying, "Dear Lord, please don't let me be like them." After a while, I felt the edge ease off my own gloom as I realized that in many ways I was not like them.
Yes, I was middle-aged, was used to a good salary, and was trying to find a job in a lousy economy. But I was blessed to work in a field for which there was unusually robust demand. It would be far easier for me to find a job. In fact, I would find a job. I just knew it. I also had a decent amount of savings set aside. And I had temporary employment in my field that would keep me busy until I secured a permanent job.
After these realizations, I silently thanked the Lord and prayed for those less fortunate souls seated around me. The skies were still gray as I walked from the building, but my spirits were lifted.
I would spend the next seven weeks making a second job out of finding a job, while still holding down a full-time job. I was in a fortuitous situation, but it was still quite stressful. I was gratified to get many interviews, but there were some discouraging times as job offers failed to materialize or were inadequate.
After a solid job offer came in, it was hard to switch out of job finding mode. It was only then that I realized how much I had hunkered down and worked at the task. Though I was filled with gratitude, for a couple of days it was difficult to accept the relief of knowing that my job search was over.
I don't know what has happened to the other people that were in the outplacement seminar with me that day. I would hope that they have found employment. But I know that many of them had fewer prospects than my friend that has been out of work for nearly two years.
Having been helped by others during my job search, I am eager to offer similar help where I can. Sometimes there isn't much one can do in a given situation. But I hope that my two friends soon find decent employment. It's tough to be out of work.
As I sat thinking about my friends' predicaments, my mind stepped back to the day after I was laid off from a professional level job. Per instructions in my severance package, I drove to a local unemployment office to attend an outplacement seminar. The gray skies and rain matched my mood.
As I entered the building and shook the wet from my jacket, I was directed to a room with about 60 chairs. Although I have a habit of sitting near the front at meetings, I chose an empty row about 2/3rds of the way back and sat down to wait for the meeting to start.
Within a few minutes more than half of the seats were occupied. I looked around at the seated men and women, most of whom seemed to be near my age or older. I saw more than a few brows knitted with worry.
One burly fellow nervously chewed on his pen while puzzling over the booklets and forms that had been distributed. One lady looked like she'd just been punched in the stomach. One man with a weathered face sat with his jaw clenched and his forearms solidly resting on his thighs as he intently stared at nothing. A couple nearby gazed blankly ahead with emotionless faces. None of the attendees looked happy. Most simply looked uncomfortable.
As presenters took turns providing information about options, available help, and what steps to follow, the interchange soon revealed that many in the room were manufacturing floor workers that had been laid off from a government contracting business whose contracts were drying up. It was clear that many had expected to spend their entire career with this employer.
The questions asked also showed that many of these folks were worried about life's new realities. For years they had been handsomely paid, but few had much in the way of savings. The likelihood of finding a job that paid anywhere near their accustomed wage was very low. Some had spent years doing government mandated jobs that had become obsolete in private industry. Some voiced concerns about finding a job while being past their prime. The sense of despair in the room was palpable.
I sat in my seat silently praying, "Dear Lord, please don't let me be like them." After a while, I felt the edge ease off my own gloom as I realized that in many ways I was not like them.
Yes, I was middle-aged, was used to a good salary, and was trying to find a job in a lousy economy. But I was blessed to work in a field for which there was unusually robust demand. It would be far easier for me to find a job. In fact, I would find a job. I just knew it. I also had a decent amount of savings set aside. And I had temporary employment in my field that would keep me busy until I secured a permanent job.
After these realizations, I silently thanked the Lord and prayed for those less fortunate souls seated around me. The skies were still gray as I walked from the building, but my spirits were lifted.
I would spend the next seven weeks making a second job out of finding a job, while still holding down a full-time job. I was in a fortuitous situation, but it was still quite stressful. I was gratified to get many interviews, but there were some discouraging times as job offers failed to materialize or were inadequate.
After a solid job offer came in, it was hard to switch out of job finding mode. It was only then that I realized how much I had hunkered down and worked at the task. Though I was filled with gratitude, for a couple of days it was difficult to accept the relief of knowing that my job search was over.
I don't know what has happened to the other people that were in the outplacement seminar with me that day. I would hope that they have found employment. But I know that many of them had fewer prospects than my friend that has been out of work for nearly two years.
Having been helped by others during my job search, I am eager to offer similar help where I can. Sometimes there isn't much one can do in a given situation. But I hope that my two friends soon find decent employment. It's tough to be out of work.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
What Do You Wish Someone Had Told You When You Graduated High School?
The local high school is holding graduation exercises for its senior class today. Having attended this ceremony twice in recent years, I know that today's event will be somewhat different from the day I graduated from the same school.
As in my day, seniors will be seated in chairs on the basketball floor and guests will be seated in the spectator seats. But instead of being crammed into the school's "small" gym (a larger gym was added a few years after I graduated), the event will be held at the local university's indoor sports arena, which has stadium seating for more than 11,500—quite an improvement over aluminum and wooden benches for 2,000.
Like my high school graduation, some seniors will be dressed under their gowns in cut-offs and tank tops, some will be wearing formal attire, and many will dress as if it's a regular school day. A far lower percentage of graduates and guests will be formally dressed than when I graduated, but some will be dressed up. My #2 son wore full formal Scottish regalia complete with kilt and Prince Charlie jacket.
At my graduation, a couple of goofballs inflated beach balls that had been secreted beneath their gowns. They tossed the balls among the graduating class members until a couple of teachers intercepted the vinyl projectiles. As far as I can tell, today's seniors have been dissuaded from such undignified displays.
But their families haven't. At both of my older sons' graduation ceremonies, a number of audience members acted rather disrespectful by giving loud cheers, throwing streamers and confetti, blowing air horns, using other noise makers, and generally acting obnoxious. Some might argue that this is all the respect a high school graduation deserves.
One thing that won't have changed is the vapid speech making by administrators and top students. I recently overheard a conversation where the individuals were discussing what they wished someone had told them when they graduated instead of the ceremonial drivel that was meted out.
This got me to thinking, "What do I wish someone had told me when I graduated?" It's an intriguing question. But my answer is, "Nothing."
Quite honestly, I was in no state of mind to absorb and process any deeply meaningful admonition. Some say that high school seniors think they already know everything. But it wasn't that. In my callowness, I simply lacked the understanding and interest required for such a task. I don't think it would be uncharitable to suggest that most of my classmates were in the same boat.
My years have taught me that we can rarely recognize gems of wisdom that lie in our path until some life experience shifts our understanding enough to cause us to perceive their value. We may even pick these stones up, examine them, and receive training about them. But we still don't discern them until we must. Even then, we may choose not to do so.
I think that if we could each watch a replay of our senior year in high school, we would be surprised to discover that almost everything we wish someone had told us actually was told to us at that time. But we were not ready to comprehend it.
Still, it may be that repeated exposure to bits of wisdom helps us along the path to their eventual appreciation, even if we fail to value them at present. So, while I in some ways agree with the first line of Paul Simon's song Kodachrome, I also think that there are often gems hidden in the dross.
As a society we appear to understand that just the act of holding a graduation ceremony is worthwhile, even if the accompanying speeches aren't. It is nearly universally understood that it marks a significant transition. The form may be more important than the content.
I don't expect today's graduating seniors to garner any particular enlightenment from the speeches they will hear today any more than I did years ago. But I am certain that many of them will eventually discover great insights that were initially instilled during their school years—even if they must sift through dreck to arrive at that point.
As in my day, seniors will be seated in chairs on the basketball floor and guests will be seated in the spectator seats. But instead of being crammed into the school's "small" gym (a larger gym was added a few years after I graduated), the event will be held at the local university's indoor sports arena, which has stadium seating for more than 11,500—quite an improvement over aluminum and wooden benches for 2,000.
Like my high school graduation, some seniors will be dressed under their gowns in cut-offs and tank tops, some will be wearing formal attire, and many will dress as if it's a regular school day. A far lower percentage of graduates and guests will be formally dressed than when I graduated, but some will be dressed up. My #2 son wore full formal Scottish regalia complete with kilt and Prince Charlie jacket.
At my graduation, a couple of goofballs inflated beach balls that had been secreted beneath their gowns. They tossed the balls among the graduating class members until a couple of teachers intercepted the vinyl projectiles. As far as I can tell, today's seniors have been dissuaded from such undignified displays.
But their families haven't. At both of my older sons' graduation ceremonies, a number of audience members acted rather disrespectful by giving loud cheers, throwing streamers and confetti, blowing air horns, using other noise makers, and generally acting obnoxious. Some might argue that this is all the respect a high school graduation deserves.
One thing that won't have changed is the vapid speech making by administrators and top students. I recently overheard a conversation where the individuals were discussing what they wished someone had told them when they graduated instead of the ceremonial drivel that was meted out.
This got me to thinking, "What do I wish someone had told me when I graduated?" It's an intriguing question. But my answer is, "Nothing."
Quite honestly, I was in no state of mind to absorb and process any deeply meaningful admonition. Some say that high school seniors think they already know everything. But it wasn't that. In my callowness, I simply lacked the understanding and interest required for such a task. I don't think it would be uncharitable to suggest that most of my classmates were in the same boat.
My years have taught me that we can rarely recognize gems of wisdom that lie in our path until some life experience shifts our understanding enough to cause us to perceive their value. We may even pick these stones up, examine them, and receive training about them. But we still don't discern them until we must. Even then, we may choose not to do so.
I think that if we could each watch a replay of our senior year in high school, we would be surprised to discover that almost everything we wish someone had told us actually was told to us at that time. But we were not ready to comprehend it.
Still, it may be that repeated exposure to bits of wisdom helps us along the path to their eventual appreciation, even if we fail to value them at present. So, while I in some ways agree with the first line of Paul Simon's song Kodachrome, I also think that there are often gems hidden in the dross.
As a society we appear to understand that just the act of holding a graduation ceremony is worthwhile, even if the accompanying speeches aren't. It is nearly universally understood that it marks a significant transition. The form may be more important than the content.
I don't expect today's graduating seniors to garner any particular enlightenment from the speeches they will hear today any more than I did years ago. But I am certain that many of them will eventually discover great insights that were initially instilled during their school years—even if they must sift through dreck to arrive at that point.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Confessions of a Plant Killer
Occasionally when I see somebody doing something that seems remarkably imbecilic to me, I sarcastically exclaim, "I guess it's good to be good at something." When I see people that demonstrate little talent in anything other than doing stupid stuff, I reason that at least they're good at something. When it comes to my management of plant life, it could probably well be said, "I guess it's good to be good at something."
I am actually very proficient at growing plants. Unfortunately, all of the plant varieties to which this skill applies happen to be classed as weeds. I also have a good track record of managing to kill off desirable plants. I guess it's good to be good at something.
Many years ago, I came home from work one day to discover a number of potted trees sitting in the driveway. My wife's sister and her husband soon arrived. After dinner, my wife instructed me and my brother-in-law exactly where to plant each tree. Until the other night, three of those remained. Now there are two.
Three of the trees were supposed to grow quickly and produce relatively narrow boles. We planted them on the west side of the house, hoping to get some shade protection from the afternoon sun. That hope was in vain. It wasn't long before the first of these trees died off. It took several years to kill all of them. My oldest sons were still quite young when the last of this line of trees gave up the ghost. I had honestly tried to care for them. But it was to no avail.
I knew nothing about globe willows when my brother-in-law and me plugged two of them into the backyard. I had no idea how prolific those things were. Unfortunately, when the trees were still fairly young, an early October snowstorm dumped enough wet snow on the leafy branches to split the trees right down the middle.
But the roots still seemed good and I knew that the split would not prevent the transfer of nutrients up the tree. So I pulled each tree back together and bound them as well as I could. Despite the ugly splits, the trees seemed to thrive. They were so prolific that it became necessary to prune them severely each year to keep them off my roof and off my neighbor's yard.
But the splits ultimately led to the trees' demise. Both of them became diseased. When we finally had a trained arborist take a look, he insisted that the trees should come down immediately for safety sake. It was interesting to watch a crew with safety gear cut the trees apart from the top down. The stumps were later ground out.
As the arborist had predicted, the scrawny spruce tree that had been overshadowed by the willows has now turned into a towering beauty. It is the only tree that remains in the backyard.
We planted three maple trees in the front yard in sort of a triangular fashion: a Norway maple, a red sunset maple, and a silver maple. It soon became clear that the red sunset maple was unhealthy. The silver and Norway maples seemed to do OK. The silver grew faster, but the Norway appeared sturdier and better formed.
After a number of years, the trunk of the Norway maple started to de-laminate on one side. The next spring it produced no leaves. I left the starkly dead tree standing for two whole seasons before having my son help me cut it down and cut it apart. The stump remains.
I tried to help the red sunset maple. It still refused to thrive, although, its few sparse leaves did turn spectacular colors in the fall. This spring the tree looked worse than its normal sickly self. It produced leaves on some parts, but other branches looked dead and bare. My wife finally issued its death sentence. So on Monday evening, I gave my son a pruning saw (the trunk was less than 2" in diameter) and ordered him to cut it down. He took to the chore with great delight. Within a few minutes, the blight was gone.
The silver maple remains. Unfortunately, it's on an off-center corner of the triangle, so it's lone placement in the front yard now looks kind of strange. It has reached a stable height and bole circumference. It's strong and beautiful. But each spring it drops thousands of whirligig seed pods all over the yard.
I manage to keep most of the lawn alive, although, that's now harder in the backyard, given the toll exacted by the puppy's activities. The lawn is filled with a variety of undesirable monocot and dicot weeds. But they don't look too bad if we keep it regularly mowed.
My lawn does not match the deep luscious green of some of my neighbors' lawns. But I figure that I'm providing them a service by making their yards look better by contrast. And given my lawn's appearance, it doesn't bother me much to have the neighbor kids traipse or ride their bikes across it.
We've got a couple of lilac bushes that seem to thrive. But maybe my neighbor wishes they weren't so abundant, as they climb over and stick through the fence. The kids dislike the fact that they are frequented by bees and wasps.
Despite our track record on indoor plants, we have one that my wife has managed to keep alive for a number of years. It is climbing down the wall in the living room. It really wouldn't hurt my feelings if it were to catch its death of some kind of illness. Perhaps that's why it's still alive.
I'm no gardener. I detest doing yard work. I love having a yard. I just wish I could have a nice yard without having to take care of it myself and without having to pay someone else to take care of it. Alas, that's a fool's wish. And my yard reflects it. As is the common lot of mankind, I reap what I sow.
When it comes to my care of plants, it should be said, "I guess it's good to be good at something."
I am actually very proficient at growing plants. Unfortunately, all of the plant varieties to which this skill applies happen to be classed as weeds. I also have a good track record of managing to kill off desirable plants. I guess it's good to be good at something.
Many years ago, I came home from work one day to discover a number of potted trees sitting in the driveway. My wife's sister and her husband soon arrived. After dinner, my wife instructed me and my brother-in-law exactly where to plant each tree. Until the other night, three of those remained. Now there are two.
Three of the trees were supposed to grow quickly and produce relatively narrow boles. We planted them on the west side of the house, hoping to get some shade protection from the afternoon sun. That hope was in vain. It wasn't long before the first of these trees died off. It took several years to kill all of them. My oldest sons were still quite young when the last of this line of trees gave up the ghost. I had honestly tried to care for them. But it was to no avail.
I knew nothing about globe willows when my brother-in-law and me plugged two of them into the backyard. I had no idea how prolific those things were. Unfortunately, when the trees were still fairly young, an early October snowstorm dumped enough wet snow on the leafy branches to split the trees right down the middle.
But the roots still seemed good and I knew that the split would not prevent the transfer of nutrients up the tree. So I pulled each tree back together and bound them as well as I could. Despite the ugly splits, the trees seemed to thrive. They were so prolific that it became necessary to prune them severely each year to keep them off my roof and off my neighbor's yard.
But the splits ultimately led to the trees' demise. Both of them became diseased. When we finally had a trained arborist take a look, he insisted that the trees should come down immediately for safety sake. It was interesting to watch a crew with safety gear cut the trees apart from the top down. The stumps were later ground out.
As the arborist had predicted, the scrawny spruce tree that had been overshadowed by the willows has now turned into a towering beauty. It is the only tree that remains in the backyard.
We planted three maple trees in the front yard in sort of a triangular fashion: a Norway maple, a red sunset maple, and a silver maple. It soon became clear that the red sunset maple was unhealthy. The silver and Norway maples seemed to do OK. The silver grew faster, but the Norway appeared sturdier and better formed.
After a number of years, the trunk of the Norway maple started to de-laminate on one side. The next spring it produced no leaves. I left the starkly dead tree standing for two whole seasons before having my son help me cut it down and cut it apart. The stump remains.
I tried to help the red sunset maple. It still refused to thrive, although, its few sparse leaves did turn spectacular colors in the fall. This spring the tree looked worse than its normal sickly self. It produced leaves on some parts, but other branches looked dead and bare. My wife finally issued its death sentence. So on Monday evening, I gave my son a pruning saw (the trunk was less than 2" in diameter) and ordered him to cut it down. He took to the chore with great delight. Within a few minutes, the blight was gone.
The silver maple remains. Unfortunately, it's on an off-center corner of the triangle, so it's lone placement in the front yard now looks kind of strange. It has reached a stable height and bole circumference. It's strong and beautiful. But each spring it drops thousands of whirligig seed pods all over the yard.
I manage to keep most of the lawn alive, although, that's now harder in the backyard, given the toll exacted by the puppy's activities. The lawn is filled with a variety of undesirable monocot and dicot weeds. But they don't look too bad if we keep it regularly mowed.
My lawn does not match the deep luscious green of some of my neighbors' lawns. But I figure that I'm providing them a service by making their yards look better by contrast. And given my lawn's appearance, it doesn't bother me much to have the neighbor kids traipse or ride their bikes across it.
We've got a couple of lilac bushes that seem to thrive. But maybe my neighbor wishes they weren't so abundant, as they climb over and stick through the fence. The kids dislike the fact that they are frequented by bees and wasps.
Despite our track record on indoor plants, we have one that my wife has managed to keep alive for a number of years. It is climbing down the wall in the living room. It really wouldn't hurt my feelings if it were to catch its death of some kind of illness. Perhaps that's why it's still alive.
I'm no gardener. I detest doing yard work. I love having a yard. I just wish I could have a nice yard without having to take care of it myself and without having to pay someone else to take care of it. Alas, that's a fool's wish. And my yard reflects it. As is the common lot of mankind, I reap what I sow.
When it comes to my care of plants, it should be said, "I guess it's good to be good at something."
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The Silent Demise of Varsity Scouting
"Why doesn't anyone do Varsity Scouting?" my son recently asked me. In our area we have many registered Varsity units. But only a tiny number of them actually run the Varsity program. Many use some elements of the program, but it's not supported in any way like the Boy Scout program, which continues to enjoy strong support from sponsoring organizations and families.
Varsity Scouting, which is aimed primarily at boys ages 14-15 (but can include youth up to 18 years old) was primarily pushed by the LDS Church in the late 70s and early 80s. My council served as one of the pilot councils for the program. Varsity Scouting received a lot of attention and enthusiastic support during this phase. It was common to see young men wearing blaze orange windbreakers, some of them sporting the brown V varsity letter award.
During those heady days I helped staff a couple of major Varsity events. One was held at a local university and was attended by hundreds of people. Many competitions were held, ranging from field and team sports to chess.
In 1984 Varsity Scouting became an official BSA program. From my perspective, the program seemed to run with some enthusiasm in the early years. But around here it has largely been dead for the past decade and a half.
LDS sponsored Varsity units continue to meet weekly in my area, but it is very rare to find a unit where the boys are even aware that a Varsity Scout Pledge exists, let alone know what it says. Varsity uniforms are scarce at these weekly meetings. It is unusual to find a unit that runs or even pretends to know anything about the advancement program, so finding a boy that earns his varsity letter or Denali Award is very uncommon.
We get a handful of adult Varsity leaders out to our district's monthly roundtable meeting. Even among those stalwarts, few of them actually run the program in their units. They do some kind of super activity each summer. But they rarely otherwise go camping or pursue any of the program's athletic goals.
Many parents that have boys registered in the Varsity program would not know what you were talking about if you used the phrase "Varsity Scouts" in their presence. Many LDS bishopric members (who represent the sponsoring organization) are in the same boat at the parents.
The one thing that seems common among the boys, leaders, parents, and organizational representatives is that the moment a boy turns 14 he is out of scouts, never has to wear a Scout uniform again, and doesn't have to bother with scouting advancement unless his parents want him to earn his Eagle rank. Even then, the advancement is usually handled by the boy's former scoutmaster instead of his varsity coach.
In my area there is a deeply embedded cultural idea that scouting starts at age eight when boys become Cub Scouts (the LDS Church does not sponsor seven-year-old Tiger Cubs) and wraps up when boys turn 14. Both the eight-year-old entry point and the 14-year-old exit point are seen as rites of passage to a new phase of life. Except for the few exceptional scouts that work on camp staff or are active in the Order of the Arrow, doing scouting after turning 14 is akin to an elementary aged kid admitting that he still likes to watch TV shows aimed at toddlers.
It seems as if both the LDS Church (Varsity Scouting's main sponsor) and the BSA have decided to let the program wither, perhaps following the aging and/or demise of the program's founders.
The linked Wikipedia article asserts, "The validity of the program continued to be questioned. Supporters of Varsity Scouting found themselves having to fight tenaciously on a number of different occasions to preserve the program. The program survived each battle, but not without considerable change." The program's stature was reduced over time and a separate Wood Badge training program for Varsity leaders was dropped more than a decade ago.
Most Varsity coaches that I have talked to in recent years about this issue say that they prefer to focus on the LDS Church's Duty to God program instead of the Varsity Scouting program. The Duty to God program has presumably been designed to work hand-in-hand with Varsity Scouting, but that's not how leaders tend to see it. They see Varsity Scouting as an unnecessary additional burden rather than a beneficial supplement.
LDS Church leaders at the local, mid-tier, and general levels have done nothing of which I am aware to change this reticent approach to Varsity Scouting. So it would appear that they find it acceptable.
Being able to remember the heyday of Varsity Scouting, it has been somewhat rueful for me to watch the program waste away. I doubt that we're going to see it revive in the future. The interest for that simply doesn't seem to exist. It appears that some think this is all for the best.
Varsity Scouting, which is aimed primarily at boys ages 14-15 (but can include youth up to 18 years old) was primarily pushed by the LDS Church in the late 70s and early 80s. My council served as one of the pilot councils for the program. Varsity Scouting received a lot of attention and enthusiastic support during this phase. It was common to see young men wearing blaze orange windbreakers, some of them sporting the brown V varsity letter award.
During those heady days I helped staff a couple of major Varsity events. One was held at a local university and was attended by hundreds of people. Many competitions were held, ranging from field and team sports to chess.
In 1984 Varsity Scouting became an official BSA program. From my perspective, the program seemed to run with some enthusiasm in the early years. But around here it has largely been dead for the past decade and a half.
LDS sponsored Varsity units continue to meet weekly in my area, but it is very rare to find a unit where the boys are even aware that a Varsity Scout Pledge exists, let alone know what it says. Varsity uniforms are scarce at these weekly meetings. It is unusual to find a unit that runs or even pretends to know anything about the advancement program, so finding a boy that earns his varsity letter or Denali Award is very uncommon.
We get a handful of adult Varsity leaders out to our district's monthly roundtable meeting. Even among those stalwarts, few of them actually run the program in their units. They do some kind of super activity each summer. But they rarely otherwise go camping or pursue any of the program's athletic goals.
Many parents that have boys registered in the Varsity program would not know what you were talking about if you used the phrase "Varsity Scouts" in their presence. Many LDS bishopric members (who represent the sponsoring organization) are in the same boat at the parents.
The one thing that seems common among the boys, leaders, parents, and organizational representatives is that the moment a boy turns 14 he is out of scouts, never has to wear a Scout uniform again, and doesn't have to bother with scouting advancement unless his parents want him to earn his Eagle rank. Even then, the advancement is usually handled by the boy's former scoutmaster instead of his varsity coach.
In my area there is a deeply embedded cultural idea that scouting starts at age eight when boys become Cub Scouts (the LDS Church does not sponsor seven-year-old Tiger Cubs) and wraps up when boys turn 14. Both the eight-year-old entry point and the 14-year-old exit point are seen as rites of passage to a new phase of life. Except for the few exceptional scouts that work on camp staff or are active in the Order of the Arrow, doing scouting after turning 14 is akin to an elementary aged kid admitting that he still likes to watch TV shows aimed at toddlers.
It seems as if both the LDS Church (Varsity Scouting's main sponsor) and the BSA have decided to let the program wither, perhaps following the aging and/or demise of the program's founders.
The linked Wikipedia article asserts, "The validity of the program continued to be questioned. Supporters of Varsity Scouting found themselves having to fight tenaciously on a number of different occasions to preserve the program. The program survived each battle, but not without considerable change." The program's stature was reduced over time and a separate Wood Badge training program for Varsity leaders was dropped more than a decade ago.
Most Varsity coaches that I have talked to in recent years about this issue say that they prefer to focus on the LDS Church's Duty to God program instead of the Varsity Scouting program. The Duty to God program has presumably been designed to work hand-in-hand with Varsity Scouting, but that's not how leaders tend to see it. They see Varsity Scouting as an unnecessary additional burden rather than a beneficial supplement.
LDS Church leaders at the local, mid-tier, and general levels have done nothing of which I am aware to change this reticent approach to Varsity Scouting. So it would appear that they find it acceptable.
Being able to remember the heyday of Varsity Scouting, it has been somewhat rueful for me to watch the program waste away. I doubt that we're going to see it revive in the future. The interest for that simply doesn't seem to exist. It appears that some think this is all for the best.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)