When I looked at my Might Elroy blog today, I realized two things. One, I needed to write something before the month ended. Two, my last blog was my 100th posting in this blog. I will admit that the Mighty Elroy has evolved a lot over the years. It used to be a way to keep people up to date with what was going on. I had Top 10 lists for most of the early ones, but that has been largely replaced. Over time I started to use this blog as a means of speaking my mind and using my voice in a way that I have never done before. I never expected my blog to become anything substantial in the limitless world of the internet, and so far that expectation has been largely met. Still, it is nice to know that some of my posts have been read by a few hundred individuals, some of them being strangers. So to celebrate this recent achievement, I thought I would share a few things I learned as I blogged.
1. Simply talking is no guarantee that you will be heard. I have noticed that the blogs that I share via social media seem to generate the most page views. When I put forth an effort to advertise myself a bit, people will be more likely to listen. I think the same is true in life. Many times we find ourselves speaking without anyone else listening. That is not always a bad thing, but it is also worth noting. Just saying something is often not enough to be heard. You have to put yourself out there in the process.
2. You can discuss the difficult topics without being difficult. I have addressed a few noteworthy topics in this blog. Everything from misogyny to how zoos treat their animals, from showing compassion and tolerance to gun violence. I have shown my dislike of President Trump and my disappointment in the general decline of morals and values in our society. Yet, even touching on these sometimes controversial topics, I have always tried to avoid causing others grief. I have not always been successful, but I think I succeed more often than I don't in those regards. However, even if you try to avoid being difficult...
3. You cannot apologize for giving a message that may be difficult for some to hear. Sometimes I can deliver a message that I feel is important without ruffling other people's proverbial feathers. Other times, however, people are going to get their feathers ruffled no matter how you say something. Hey, I think treating all Muslims with suspicion and fear is misguided and wrong. If my saying so makes you uncomfortable, then I am not worried about that. Perhaps you needed to be challenged in that manner. I have learned that my greatest growth and change comes when I have been challenged and made to feel uncomfortable.
4. Surprises still happen. I have been surprised by how many people have read and shared my blog, by who has read and shared my blog, and by where they are from. Sometimes I write something and it is hardly looked at, Sometimes I write something and the unlikely happening of more than 100 people read it. I am not sure what the magic formula is, but it is nice to know that I can still be pleasantly surprised.
5. Nice matters a lot too. Sometimes my blog posts that mean the most to people are the ones that are about relatively small things, such as a fun day at the park that taught me a valuable insight. My most read blog was a tribute to an actor that was important to me growing up. Bring the niceness. It does more good than you may think it will.
6. Final thing I have learned, is that blogging is fun. Sometimes it can be uncomfortable as you put a piece of yourself out there, but it is fun. If nothing else, you make a mark. It may not be a significant mark, but you have made one.
I hope you enjoyed everything I have written so far, and that you will continue to enjoy what I put forward in the future.
Monday, May 29, 2017
Sunday, April 30, 2017
Old Friends, New Tradition
A month ago an idea popped into my head. I went to a closet and took out a large plastic bin. Opening the lid, I gazed down at an ensemble from my childhood. One by one, I pulled these memories from their storage bin and looked upon them. These were some of my friends as I was growing up. They were companions on many great adventures. We would explore the world from the top bunk of my bedroom. We would fend off the bad guys with our wit and strength. We would face perils and dangers by sticking together. As I placed each one on the floor beside me, I smiled sadly at a childhood that, while not always good, was mostly comfortable. During the difficult times, these valiant compatriots would be there for me.
There was Bob, a handsome brown bear wearing a blue jacket. Robert the Rabbit with his brown coveralls. Husky, a white dog that is definitely looking his age, much like a grizzled veteran of many play times. Next out was Kermit the Frog and Cookie Monster, both of whom had the black ink of their pupils faded with time (losing their eyesight in their old age, I suppose). Bert and Ernie followed, both looking worn and loved. Marty the Monkey with his sown on green hat. Actually, I thought to myself, I have to reconsider his name. Marty the Chimp. That's more like it. Marty doesn't have a tail, but he does look like a monkey rather than an ape. OK, he lost his tail in an accident before finding his way to my bedroom. That works.
Last, I pull out my four favourites. First, Barney the Bison. He is looking as solid and trustworthy as ever. Still missing one of his felt hooves, but that is Barney. Not only was Barney strong, but he was wise and compassionate. Next is Susie Bunny. She was an Easter gift from my grandparents, I think. Her gray fur shows a bald patch in a couple places, but her pink jelly-bean-like nose is as bright as ever. She was adventurous and fun. Sammy Seal follows, All white with a black nose. He was always the playful one, often getting himself into trouble that the others would help him out of. He has fiercely loyal, and became quite responsible as he grew older. Last is the smallest, a little lion I named Lambert, after the old Disney cartoon. Lambert is brown with a frilly colourful collar. He was the youngest of the group, quite often unsure of himself. I guess that is why I identified with him so much. Though he was the smallest and weakest of the clan, he was also the bravest. He was the one who faced his fears the most often, and he was looked upon fondly by the others.
I looked over my old friends. I greeted each one with a bit of sadness, as I had not taken the time to look at them in years. I speak to them, believing that they will respond while knowing that they cannot. They speak back to me. They are excited to see me. They understand that they have been put away but not forgotten. They know that they were loved my me, and still are. They seem...smaller than I remembered. They are happy that I am doing well. I chuckle and hold Barney close, remembering the feelings and emotions without remembering the specifics and details. The stories and adventures are all blurred in the annals of time, but the feelings are rekindled.
A pair of pitter-pattering feet run into the room. Two little angelic faces look up at me.
"What's that Daddy?" Barbara says.
"What dat, Daddy?" Hope echoes.
"These are some old friends of mine," I explain. "When I was a little boy, they comforted me when I was lonely. They protected me when I was scared. They stayed with me when I was sick. I hadn't seen them for a long time, so I thought I would have a little visit."
"Can I see one?" Barbara asked.
"I see!" Hope demanded.
I look down at my old friends. They seem to wink at me, as if to tell me what they want.
I look at Hope's bed, full of stuffed toys given to her in just three short years. Barbara's bed is fuller still. Surely they wouldn't want these old things, not when they have stuffies that are newer and less worn. Still, they look excited about seeing Daddy's past. I smile. I know exactly what comes next. In all honesty, I was hoping that this would happen as it did.
"Barbara, this is Barney Bison and Susie Bunny," I said as I handed over my two cherished friends. "And Hope, this is Sammy Seal and Lambert Lion."
Each daughter takes her two new toys into their arms. Hope, being not quite three years old, looks at Sammy and Lambert with curiosity, and then hugs them close to her chest when she sees her big sister do the same with Barney and Susie. Hope climbs into her bed with her new toys and gets ready to go to sleep. Barbara runs to her mother and shows her "Daddy's friends". I pack up the rest of the crew, wondering if and when they will be passed on to someone from the next generation of kin. Barbara passes by, going into her room. She looks at me and tells me "Don't worry Daddy. I'll take care of them and you can visit whenever you want!".
Smiling, I thank her for her generous offer. In the days following, Hope has Sammy and Lambert as part of her collection. Nothing special. Barbara, however, has taken a special shine to Susie and Barney. They are important to her, and she gives me regular updates. Sometimes I see her put them to bed in a makeshift cot of blankets that she spreads out on the flood. Often, they accompany her into our room in the mornings when she wakes up before us. She always lets me know she is taking good care of my friends. That's nice, because they took good care of me.
I must confess, I miss parts of my childhood. These stuffed toys, decades old now, were important to me because other parts of my childhood were not. They provided friendship, outlets for imagination, and hours of enjoyment. I know they are just inanimate objects, but they were there when human friends were not. Yes, I was teased by some when they found out I had "dolls". After a while, I just kept that part of my life to myself. Something that was mine alone, and now is shared with my daughters. I hope that the girls will get the same happiness from them, without the loneliness that necessitated it. I know that ultimately they will end up discarded at some point. Maybe not with the girls, but eventually. Not much lasts forever in this world. Not my friends, not my childhood. But how long things like this last is not what is most important. Instead, it is the impact on our lives that matters. For me, a small collection of stuffed toys brought happiness. For my daughters and grandchildren, perhaps the magic can continue.
If nothing else, it was a nice moment.
There was Bob, a handsome brown bear wearing a blue jacket. Robert the Rabbit with his brown coveralls. Husky, a white dog that is definitely looking his age, much like a grizzled veteran of many play times. Next out was Kermit the Frog and Cookie Monster, both of whom had the black ink of their pupils faded with time (losing their eyesight in their old age, I suppose). Bert and Ernie followed, both looking worn and loved. Marty the Monkey with his sown on green hat. Actually, I thought to myself, I have to reconsider his name. Marty the Chimp. That's more like it. Marty doesn't have a tail, but he does look like a monkey rather than an ape. OK, he lost his tail in an accident before finding his way to my bedroom. That works.
Last, I pull out my four favourites. First, Barney the Bison. He is looking as solid and trustworthy as ever. Still missing one of his felt hooves, but that is Barney. Not only was Barney strong, but he was wise and compassionate. Next is Susie Bunny. She was an Easter gift from my grandparents, I think. Her gray fur shows a bald patch in a couple places, but her pink jelly-bean-like nose is as bright as ever. She was adventurous and fun. Sammy Seal follows, All white with a black nose. He was always the playful one, often getting himself into trouble that the others would help him out of. He has fiercely loyal, and became quite responsible as he grew older. Last is the smallest, a little lion I named Lambert, after the old Disney cartoon. Lambert is brown with a frilly colourful collar. He was the youngest of the group, quite often unsure of himself. I guess that is why I identified with him so much. Though he was the smallest and weakest of the clan, he was also the bravest. He was the one who faced his fears the most often, and he was looked upon fondly by the others.
I looked over my old friends. I greeted each one with a bit of sadness, as I had not taken the time to look at them in years. I speak to them, believing that they will respond while knowing that they cannot. They speak back to me. They are excited to see me. They understand that they have been put away but not forgotten. They know that they were loved my me, and still are. They seem...smaller than I remembered. They are happy that I am doing well. I chuckle and hold Barney close, remembering the feelings and emotions without remembering the specifics and details. The stories and adventures are all blurred in the annals of time, but the feelings are rekindled.
A pair of pitter-pattering feet run into the room. Two little angelic faces look up at me.
"What's that Daddy?" Barbara says.
"What dat, Daddy?" Hope echoes.
"These are some old friends of mine," I explain. "When I was a little boy, they comforted me when I was lonely. They protected me when I was scared. They stayed with me when I was sick. I hadn't seen them for a long time, so I thought I would have a little visit."
"Can I see one?" Barbara asked.
"I see!" Hope demanded.
I look down at my old friends. They seem to wink at me, as if to tell me what they want.
I look at Hope's bed, full of stuffed toys given to her in just three short years. Barbara's bed is fuller still. Surely they wouldn't want these old things, not when they have stuffies that are newer and less worn. Still, they look excited about seeing Daddy's past. I smile. I know exactly what comes next. In all honesty, I was hoping that this would happen as it did.
"Barbara, this is Barney Bison and Susie Bunny," I said as I handed over my two cherished friends. "And Hope, this is Sammy Seal and Lambert Lion."
Each daughter takes her two new toys into their arms. Hope, being not quite three years old, looks at Sammy and Lambert with curiosity, and then hugs them close to her chest when she sees her big sister do the same with Barney and Susie. Hope climbs into her bed with her new toys and gets ready to go to sleep. Barbara runs to her mother and shows her "Daddy's friends". I pack up the rest of the crew, wondering if and when they will be passed on to someone from the next generation of kin. Barbara passes by, going into her room. She looks at me and tells me "Don't worry Daddy. I'll take care of them and you can visit whenever you want!".
Smiling, I thank her for her generous offer. In the days following, Hope has Sammy and Lambert as part of her collection. Nothing special. Barbara, however, has taken a special shine to Susie and Barney. They are important to her, and she gives me regular updates. Sometimes I see her put them to bed in a makeshift cot of blankets that she spreads out on the flood. Often, they accompany her into our room in the mornings when she wakes up before us. She always lets me know she is taking good care of my friends. That's nice, because they took good care of me.
I must confess, I miss parts of my childhood. These stuffed toys, decades old now, were important to me because other parts of my childhood were not. They provided friendship, outlets for imagination, and hours of enjoyment. I know they are just inanimate objects, but they were there when human friends were not. Yes, I was teased by some when they found out I had "dolls". After a while, I just kept that part of my life to myself. Something that was mine alone, and now is shared with my daughters. I hope that the girls will get the same happiness from them, without the loneliness that necessitated it. I know that ultimately they will end up discarded at some point. Maybe not with the girls, but eventually. Not much lasts forever in this world. Not my friends, not my childhood. But how long things like this last is not what is most important. Instead, it is the impact on our lives that matters. For me, a small collection of stuffed toys brought happiness. For my daughters and grandchildren, perhaps the magic can continue.
If nothing else, it was a nice moment.
Friday, March 31, 2017
One of Those Blogs
I have been blogging for quite a few years now. Some times I take it quite seriously, other times, not so much. My blog evolved from an online journal that allowed friends and family to stay updated with the happenings of my life, to a forum where I would share things that I found interesting, to more lately a place for me to share some of my thoughts and perspectives. I have tackled issues such as misogyny, racism, religious persecution, the role of education, zoos, and other interesting topics. As I was pondering about the subject of my next posting, I realized that there was one popular blog topic that I have yet write about. In fact, I am surprised that I have not written about this yet. This type of blog comes in many different forms and styles, and covers a myriad of different subjects, but it is one that bears addressing. I am talking about the Guilt Blog.
You know what I'm talking about, right? Pick any given topic, from parenting to carpooling, from diet and exercise to tipping. Research blog posts on that topic, and you will undoubtedly find an entire Google page full of blogs that will tell you that everything you know or do with regards to that topic is one thing: WRONG! Yup, you are sleeping incorrectly. Everything you do as a parent will in some way traumatize your children. Every kind of food is both good and bad for you, depending on who you ask, but regardless of which you are eating it wrong. You are worshiping God wrong, you are going to church wrong, you are a fool for believing or not believing. Every exercise known to man (and a few that aren't) are both going to give you the body that you always dreamed of having and are preparing you for an untimely premature death. And politics, oh, politics. According to bloggers everywhere there is no end to the conspiracies and ideals around political viewpoints. Everything is both "alternative facts" and "gospel truth". I am likely guilty of this myself at times. It is just so easy when you are writing on the internet to present your opinions as "factual". Sure, when discussing things like compassion, bullying and human rights, it is easy to assume that you have reached a moral high ground. When I read these types of blogs, it is easy to have other people convince you and form your opinion for you. We see something that we are doing that suddenly, when a certain type of light is shone upon it, becomes the worst thing ever you could do. These viewpoints are often backed up with convincing arguments, the type that are stated with so much confidence and statistics (65% of which are likely made up anyways), that we start to doubt if we are good and wholesome people. Opinion pieces and editorials have become some strange sort of litmus test towards how you are doing in all aspects of your life. It is mind boggling at best, and destructive to the soul at its worst.
Since it looks like I will be making a guilt blog about guilt blogs. let me identify the typical, almost cliche tricks of the trade. First, use of smarmy humor (let's see...ah, yes. Stating that 65% of statistics are made up. Smarmy humor, check). Second, quotation marks and capitalized words for emphasis (WRONG! and "alternative facts". Check!). Third, numbered lists to provide bullet points for people to check off (Hey, that's what I'm doing right now! Check!). Finally, a picture with a quote from the blog to provide a quick little literary equivalent of a sound bite. Hmmmm, don't have that yet. Well, here we go.
OK, one more list. When I read through these types of blogs, I find that by using some critical thinking skills and remembering some important reminders I can emerge from the end of the article with my esteem and self-worth intact. Here we go.
You know what I'm talking about, right? Pick any given topic, from parenting to carpooling, from diet and exercise to tipping. Research blog posts on that topic, and you will undoubtedly find an entire Google page full of blogs that will tell you that everything you know or do with regards to that topic is one thing: WRONG! Yup, you are sleeping incorrectly. Everything you do as a parent will in some way traumatize your children. Every kind of food is both good and bad for you, depending on who you ask, but regardless of which you are eating it wrong. You are worshiping God wrong, you are going to church wrong, you are a fool for believing or not believing. Every exercise known to man (and a few that aren't) are both going to give you the body that you always dreamed of having and are preparing you for an untimely premature death. And politics, oh, politics. According to bloggers everywhere there is no end to the conspiracies and ideals around political viewpoints. Everything is both "alternative facts" and "gospel truth". I am likely guilty of this myself at times. It is just so easy when you are writing on the internet to present your opinions as "factual". Sure, when discussing things like compassion, bullying and human rights, it is easy to assume that you have reached a moral high ground. When I read these types of blogs, it is easy to have other people convince you and form your opinion for you. We see something that we are doing that suddenly, when a certain type of light is shone upon it, becomes the worst thing ever you could do. These viewpoints are often backed up with convincing arguments, the type that are stated with so much confidence and statistics (65% of which are likely made up anyways), that we start to doubt if we are good and wholesome people. Opinion pieces and editorials have become some strange sort of litmus test towards how you are doing in all aspects of your life. It is mind boggling at best, and destructive to the soul at its worst.
Since it looks like I will be making a guilt blog about guilt blogs. let me identify the typical, almost cliche tricks of the trade. First, use of smarmy humor (let's see...ah, yes. Stating that 65% of statistics are made up. Smarmy humor, check). Second, quotation marks and capitalized words for emphasis (WRONG! and "alternative facts". Check!). Third, numbered lists to provide bullet points for people to check off (Hey, that's what I'm doing right now! Check!). Finally, a picture with a quote from the blog to provide a quick little literary equivalent of a sound bite. Hmmmm, don't have that yet. Well, here we go.
 |
| Finally, a picture with a quote from the blog to provide the literary equivalent of a sound bite |
OK, one more list. When I read through these types of blogs, I find that by using some critical thinking skills and remembering some important reminders I can emerge from the end of the article with my esteem and self-worth intact. Here we go.
1. Don't forget, the vast majority of these are opinions of other people. Yes, the person may be a celebrity, a family member, or an expert in their field, but typically they are opinions. Quite often opinions are going to be shared by like-minded people, but that does not mean that they are necessarily correct. Nor does it mean that they are wrong. They are just one person's perspective that may or may not be relevant to you.
2. Understand the bias of the writer. Each writer has a bias, and it is very difficult to avoid it when writing. When it comes to these types of blog posts, it is impossible. If you can get to the root of the bias, it might help you understand where the writer is coming from. This can help you sort out what advice is good, and what is useless to you at the present moment.
3. Take only what will help you. I think that if after reading the article you feel that you are a horrible person who will only be redeemed if you do everything that the article you just read tells you to do, then you are not being helped by the article. Read through the article and ask yourself what in that article is actually something that can help you. Maybe something in the article is actually something that can help you improve. Great! That does not mean that every word is written especially for you. Just take the few things that provide you what you need and leave the rest.
4. Don't confuse finding improvements to make in your life with being a failure. Is it possible that I have made mistakes when raising my children? Yes, absolutely it is. In fact, I can guarantee it and provide you lists of evidence to support that statement. Does that make me a bad father? I hope not. So if I read an article about parenting and find one suggestion that makes sense to me to implement to try to be a better parent, this does not imply that I am a bad parent. Now, if you are constantly smacking your kids around in drunken stupors while depriving them of adequate food, then yes, you are a bad parent. Actually, you are a horrible parent and likely a horrible human being. But since that is likely not to be the case with you, then accept that you are not perfect and move on with your life. Make an improvement as you see fit, but please do not assume that you are the worst at everything because you can do a little better here and there.
So, I hope my guilt blog helps you with future guilt blogs. And if you disagree with anything that I have written here, well, that is just fine by me. All I'm saying is, be true to yourself.
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Educate Yourself
I came across a video a while back. It was shared by a guy I knew several years ago. The video features an angry young man who was voicing his disappointment about the education he received in school. During his rap (for that is how many youth choose to express themselves these days) he went on to denounce the educational institution and its teachers for filling up his mind with useless information instead of teaching him more important life skills. He decried and derided the wonders of the world around him that he was taught, things like how the cells, which are the building blocks of life, work, or the properties of light that allow us to see and live. He claims that the literary works of Shakespeare and the lessons of history are trivial. He laments the lack of knowledge in the law, finances, and how to get a job. I found his educational tirade, to be honest, annoying. At the time I was not sure what exactly was irking me so much, but I felt I needed to know more about this young man and what message he was trying to share.
I noticed that the video ended rather abruptly, so I went on YouTube to see if there wasn't a full length video available. Well, I did, and he goes on to rant about how the school system had failed him. At the end of his video, he gave a very poignant message: "Don't stay in school!". Yup, that was one very angry young man. To an extent, I get where he is coming from. He wants his learning to be relevant. He wants to learn the skills in life that are necessary to be successful in life. He wants to learn things that will be useful. However, and this is the main aspect of my writing today, he seemed to be willing to place the blame on every person involved in the system except for the most important one. You see, he believed that the school, his teachers, the parents, and everyone else at fault for this, but never once did he consider the most important source of failure in his anger. He didn't look at himself.
I have been teaching for 15 years now. I have literally had the pleasure of seeing thousands of students come and go in my classroom. I would regularly have students ask the universal question: "Why do I have to learn this stuff?", although sometimes they used stronger words for "stuff". Now, as a teacher, I will happily claim that not everything that we teach in school is going to be applicable in the day-to-day life of our students. I will also admit that there are important skills and knowledge that we do not teach in school, but I would suggest that such deficiencies are small. I also feel that different school systems will have different curriculum, and it may well be that this young man went to a school system that had many problems in that department. Having said all that, if I had the opportunity to sit down with this chap, I would ask him a few pointed questions.
First, I would ask him what he feels is the role of the education system and schools is. By the sound of things, I suppose he would say that the school is to teach him everything that he would ever need in life. I would follow up by asking what those things were. He would likely give me the list of things he rapped about. I would counter with how he knew he would need those things. It sounds like he didn't know what he needed until after he was done with school. So I would then suggest that perhaps it is not the school's job to anticipate what every single student is ever going to need and then teach that student exactly what was needed. It is a herculean task at best. Instead, perhaps, I would offer that the job of an educational system is not to give students exactly what they think they will need, but instead to teach them how to give themselves what they will need. The job of a school is to teach you one important skill that will prepare you for your whole life and all of its challenges. My job, as a teacher, is to teach my students how to learn.
Now, this may be where some teachers and school systems fall short. I would agree that there is likely those within my profession who will disagree with me on this. Just hear me out for a moment. While this may seem like a simple task, it is by no means simple. To teach someone else to learn is going to take years. It is going to take failures. It is going to take work. Most importantly, it is going to take the student buying in to the idea. I remember a student I had many years ago in Saskatchewan. At the time I was teaching in a small rural school where everybody had to take chemistry and biology. I was the teacher of those classes. This particular young lady stayed behind after the first class and asked if I had a minute. She went on to explain to me that she did not like chemistry and biology. She did not need the courses for what she wanted to to, which was to become an architect. Like this young man, she did not want to waste her time with things that were going to be useless to her in the future. She then looked at me, waiting for me to say something. I could tell that she was of a strong spirit, and one who would not take kindly to the general platitudes that teachers give to students. I thought about it for a moment. I then carefully chose my next words.
"So what are you going to do about the situation?" I asked her.
She seemed a bit surprised by this response. I went on to explain to her that in this situation, I could not lobby to ask her to be taken out of the course. If I did that with her, then other students would likely line up and demand that they also be allowed to do something else. Even if I thought that she could do some distance learning program, the principal would not allow it, and the principal had the final say. I told her that I appreciated her honesty and hoped that she would be equally appreciative of my position, so again, I asked her what she was going to do about it. I elaborated by suggesting she look for how to make the best out of this situation.
She thought about it for a moment, and then gave me this reply:
"I guess I could just work really hard, get as high a mark as I can to help me get scholarships, and then not worry about having to take these courses again."
I was only a second year teacher, and it would take me a few more years teaching before I would realize how profound her response was, although I did feel that her answer was about as excellent as one could get. I told her I liked her answer and that I would be here to help her in any way that I could. She thanked me (but to be honest, I think she may have been a bit disappointed at the time), and went on her way.
Over the next couple years I did my best to teach her biology and chemistry. While she was not at the top of her class, she was consistently in the 80s and 90s. Her demeanor in class changed over the two years I taught her. She showed a lot of growth and aptitude for the material. For the very last unit exam of Biology 30 I asked that class an open-ended question: "what was the most important thing that you learned in biology these last two years". After the test, I read each one and shared them with the class. many of them were about things like genetics, organ systems, or ecology. Several were humorous. A few were just straightforward and brief. Hers, however, I didn't share, but I did ask her to stay afterwards. I told her that I didn't read hers out loud to the class because it was my favourite. She had written that the most important thing she had learned was that she could actually come to enjoy biology and chemistry, and that despite her poor attitude in the beginning she appreciated my patience and enthusiasm that allowed her to come to love biology and chemistry. She learned that she could enjoy learning about things that she didn't necessarily need to know, and that she could be good at it. I told her that because of this experience she was going to be successful at anything she put her mind to doing in the future. Part of learning is to open our minds to things that we hadn't considered being important, to discover that to learn about more than just what we think we will need can bring fulfillment.
Going back to the angry young man in the video that prompted this blog entry, I would ask him why he didn't choose to pursue the knowledge in the areas that he wanted to know. If learning how to pay taxes was so important, did he ask anybody to teach him that? If he wanted to learn parenting skills, did he sit at home and expect someone to come along to show him the way? If he wanted to learn about taking care of himself, did he ask someone to help him? Or did he expect the world to cater to his desires? I have noticed that in today's world many of us (not just young people) are accustomed to having everything that we want as close to instantaneous as possible. We seem to feel more entitled for what we want and need and are less willing to put forth any effort in getting what we desire. I felt that this young man felt cheated by the system, but what did he do to fix it? As far as I could tell, he dyed his hair, learned how to rap, and made a YouTube video to whine about his problems. Part of learning means that we learn how to take responsibility for our future. It means we are ultimately responsible for our education. If the system fails us, then we need to actively seek out the knowledge and training that we desire. We don't sit at our pity party and expect the world to give us everything we want.
I couldn't help but find it ironic that he was rapping about how useless Shakespeare's classics were. Right there was one of the most striking examples of how out of touch this young man was. Shakespeare was a master of using rhyming and rhythm to convey messages and commentary about the world around him. This young man was using the current evolution of Shakespeare's way of communicating to complain about having to learn Shakespeare. Part of learning is to know where we have been. We learn of history to learn of past mistakes. We learn of past ideas and approaches to appreciate how far we have come.
I hope that if I ever get the chance to talk to this young fellow about his angst that he will keep an open mind. I hope that he will listen to what I have to say. I hope he will see that I do not entirely disagree with him, but that in a large way he is mostly angry with himself. Too often I have had to tell students that if they think they deserve the best things in life, they must also be willing to give the best of themselves. And most importantly, I hope he chooses to change his final message from "Don't stay in school" to "educate yourself".
I noticed that the video ended rather abruptly, so I went on YouTube to see if there wasn't a full length video available. Well, I did, and he goes on to rant about how the school system had failed him. At the end of his video, he gave a very poignant message: "Don't stay in school!". Yup, that was one very angry young man. To an extent, I get where he is coming from. He wants his learning to be relevant. He wants to learn the skills in life that are necessary to be successful in life. He wants to learn things that will be useful. However, and this is the main aspect of my writing today, he seemed to be willing to place the blame on every person involved in the system except for the most important one. You see, he believed that the school, his teachers, the parents, and everyone else at fault for this, but never once did he consider the most important source of failure in his anger. He didn't look at himself.
I have been teaching for 15 years now. I have literally had the pleasure of seeing thousands of students come and go in my classroom. I would regularly have students ask the universal question: "Why do I have to learn this stuff?", although sometimes they used stronger words for "stuff". Now, as a teacher, I will happily claim that not everything that we teach in school is going to be applicable in the day-to-day life of our students. I will also admit that there are important skills and knowledge that we do not teach in school, but I would suggest that such deficiencies are small. I also feel that different school systems will have different curriculum, and it may well be that this young man went to a school system that had many problems in that department. Having said all that, if I had the opportunity to sit down with this chap, I would ask him a few pointed questions.
First, I would ask him what he feels is the role of the education system and schools is. By the sound of things, I suppose he would say that the school is to teach him everything that he would ever need in life. I would follow up by asking what those things were. He would likely give me the list of things he rapped about. I would counter with how he knew he would need those things. It sounds like he didn't know what he needed until after he was done with school. So I would then suggest that perhaps it is not the school's job to anticipate what every single student is ever going to need and then teach that student exactly what was needed. It is a herculean task at best. Instead, perhaps, I would offer that the job of an educational system is not to give students exactly what they think they will need, but instead to teach them how to give themselves what they will need. The job of a school is to teach you one important skill that will prepare you for your whole life and all of its challenges. My job, as a teacher, is to teach my students how to learn.
Now, this may be where some teachers and school systems fall short. I would agree that there is likely those within my profession who will disagree with me on this. Just hear me out for a moment. While this may seem like a simple task, it is by no means simple. To teach someone else to learn is going to take years. It is going to take failures. It is going to take work. Most importantly, it is going to take the student buying in to the idea. I remember a student I had many years ago in Saskatchewan. At the time I was teaching in a small rural school where everybody had to take chemistry and biology. I was the teacher of those classes. This particular young lady stayed behind after the first class and asked if I had a minute. She went on to explain to me that she did not like chemistry and biology. She did not need the courses for what she wanted to to, which was to become an architect. Like this young man, she did not want to waste her time with things that were going to be useless to her in the future. She then looked at me, waiting for me to say something. I could tell that she was of a strong spirit, and one who would not take kindly to the general platitudes that teachers give to students. I thought about it for a moment. I then carefully chose my next words.
"So what are you going to do about the situation?" I asked her.
She seemed a bit surprised by this response. I went on to explain to her that in this situation, I could not lobby to ask her to be taken out of the course. If I did that with her, then other students would likely line up and demand that they also be allowed to do something else. Even if I thought that she could do some distance learning program, the principal would not allow it, and the principal had the final say. I told her that I appreciated her honesty and hoped that she would be equally appreciative of my position, so again, I asked her what she was going to do about it. I elaborated by suggesting she look for how to make the best out of this situation.
She thought about it for a moment, and then gave me this reply:
"I guess I could just work really hard, get as high a mark as I can to help me get scholarships, and then not worry about having to take these courses again."
I was only a second year teacher, and it would take me a few more years teaching before I would realize how profound her response was, although I did feel that her answer was about as excellent as one could get. I told her I liked her answer and that I would be here to help her in any way that I could. She thanked me (but to be honest, I think she may have been a bit disappointed at the time), and went on her way.
Over the next couple years I did my best to teach her biology and chemistry. While she was not at the top of her class, she was consistently in the 80s and 90s. Her demeanor in class changed over the two years I taught her. She showed a lot of growth and aptitude for the material. For the very last unit exam of Biology 30 I asked that class an open-ended question: "what was the most important thing that you learned in biology these last two years". After the test, I read each one and shared them with the class. many of them were about things like genetics, organ systems, or ecology. Several were humorous. A few were just straightforward and brief. Hers, however, I didn't share, but I did ask her to stay afterwards. I told her that I didn't read hers out loud to the class because it was my favourite. She had written that the most important thing she had learned was that she could actually come to enjoy biology and chemistry, and that despite her poor attitude in the beginning she appreciated my patience and enthusiasm that allowed her to come to love biology and chemistry. She learned that she could enjoy learning about things that she didn't necessarily need to know, and that she could be good at it. I told her that because of this experience she was going to be successful at anything she put her mind to doing in the future. Part of learning is to open our minds to things that we hadn't considered being important, to discover that to learn about more than just what we think we will need can bring fulfillment.
Going back to the angry young man in the video that prompted this blog entry, I would ask him why he didn't choose to pursue the knowledge in the areas that he wanted to know. If learning how to pay taxes was so important, did he ask anybody to teach him that? If he wanted to learn parenting skills, did he sit at home and expect someone to come along to show him the way? If he wanted to learn about taking care of himself, did he ask someone to help him? Or did he expect the world to cater to his desires? I have noticed that in today's world many of us (not just young people) are accustomed to having everything that we want as close to instantaneous as possible. We seem to feel more entitled for what we want and need and are less willing to put forth any effort in getting what we desire. I felt that this young man felt cheated by the system, but what did he do to fix it? As far as I could tell, he dyed his hair, learned how to rap, and made a YouTube video to whine about his problems. Part of learning means that we learn how to take responsibility for our future. It means we are ultimately responsible for our education. If the system fails us, then we need to actively seek out the knowledge and training that we desire. We don't sit at our pity party and expect the world to give us everything we want.
I couldn't help but find it ironic that he was rapping about how useless Shakespeare's classics were. Right there was one of the most striking examples of how out of touch this young man was. Shakespeare was a master of using rhyming and rhythm to convey messages and commentary about the world around him. This young man was using the current evolution of Shakespeare's way of communicating to complain about having to learn Shakespeare. Part of learning is to know where we have been. We learn of history to learn of past mistakes. We learn of past ideas and approaches to appreciate how far we have come.
I hope that if I ever get the chance to talk to this young fellow about his angst that he will keep an open mind. I hope that he will listen to what I have to say. I hope he will see that I do not entirely disagree with him, but that in a large way he is mostly angry with himself. Too often I have had to tell students that if they think they deserve the best things in life, they must also be willing to give the best of themselves. And most importantly, I hope he chooses to change his final message from "Don't stay in school" to "educate yourself".
Monday, January 23, 2017
I'm Not Supposed to Be Here
The place: Hamburg Germany. The time, the middle of the Second World War. A man, Heinrich Hassforther, was at work in his government office. One of his responsibilities was to process lists of people. Sometimes those lists were suspected enemies of the Nazi state. Reasons for being on this list are many. It may have been hiding a Jewish family, or even befriending one. It might have been for listening to the BBC on the radio. If you had said something that could be considered anything less than full devotion to the Fuhrer, your neighbors could report you and you could find yourself on this list. Again and again the lists would come across Heinrich's desk. He would drink his coffee, read the names on the list, and forward it to the appropriate department in the government. Heinrich was a man of simple pleasures. He was not a fan of the Nazi regime and what it stood for. He had no personal issues with many people, but he did not see himself as someone influential enough to cause any great amount of change. His first wife, Margarethe, had died weeks before the war had started. His eldest son, Walter, had been conscripted into the army. He was sent to the Russian front, where at the age of 20 he was killed by a sniper as he relieved his lookout man in the tank he was assigned to. This would turn out to be a blessing as most soldiers in that tank division died a more drawn out and excruciating death due to exposure and starvation. Heinrich felt sad for the loss of his son in a war he did not believe in, but he was a common man with a common job and couldn't do anything to prevent Walter from serving in the army. His second child, Annmarie, was married to Heinz Beckmann. At least Heinz had enlisted in the merchant marines before the war started, so the chances of him dying in combat were low. Annmarie, being younger and more idealistic, was doing some small things to stand against the hatred that had engulfed their country. She had organized some of her neighbors in knitting mittens, scarfs, and other items of clothing, and then in the dead of night would sneak them into the outdoor pens where the Russian POWs were being held. The fact that his daughter was trying to keep the same people who were responsible for her brother's death from freezing during the cold winter nights was not lost on Heinrich.
One particular morning Heinrich came to his desk and proceeded to go through the papers in his pile. Page after page, name after name, he read. He would take a sip from his coffee every time that he felt his attention start to wander. Another sheet, another list of names. Once in a while a name would show up that appeared to be familiar. Most of the time he would not be able to identify the familiarity he felt. Was it an old school friend? The name of the son of his neighbor three doors down from his? The baker that he bought bread from for several years before they had moved? Not everyone on these lists would disappear. At least, Heinrich believed such to be true, but he knew full well that many of them did. What happened to those who did disappear was always up to speculation. Some were rumored to have been quietly disposed of on the outskirts of town. Others felt that they were sent to some of the work camps that the Jews and other undesirables were sent to. Some, he suspected, would catch wind of the SS coming for them and escaped into the countryside. A few would even claim that those who disappeared were simply relocated to another town where their skills could better serve the war movement. Still, there were those who would...
Heinrich stopped, and reread the last two names he had come across on the sheet of paper in his hand.
"Beckmann, Annmarie...Beckmann, Heinz".
Heinrich stared at the names. His daughter. Her husband. Their names seemed to shine out to him despite being typed in the same font as countless others had been. Heinrich looked around to see if any of his co-workers or superiors were watching him. He looked at the names again, and checked the address in a vain hope that another couple with the exact same names living in a different part of the country had been put on this list. With sadness he verified that they were indeed the names of his daughter and son-in-law. He looked at the paper with a concern that seemed to envelop him. He had a job to do, and doing that job had kept him unnoticed by those who were compiling these lists. He wondered if anyone knew that he was the father of this young woman. The idea that this was somehow a test of his loyalty, that someone was watching to see if he would choose country over kin. He looked around again. No one seemed to be paying him any attention. He set the piece of paper down on his desk, and lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
He hesitated. An idea began to form within his desperation. He looked down at the black liquid and saw a glimmer of hope. It would be easy to make this look like an accident. He was known for being accurate and rarely made an error in his work. Was he not owed one little slip up every now and then? It would not be too out of character of him, for everyone loses their focus once in a while. An egg gets dropped while baking, a toe gets stubbed while walking, a list of names gets ruined with a coffee spill...
Deciding on his course of action, Heinrich lowered the cup onto the desk, He set the paper with the names of his daughter and her husband beside it. Then, as normal looking as possible, he reached across his desk and bumped his arm against the cup, knocking it over. Its contents covered the corner of his desk, including the list of names that contained his future. Uttering a few cuss words, he swept the soggy papers into the trash bin nest to his desk, fetched some rags, and cleaned up the rest of the mess. The entire internal dilemma seemed to last an eternity for Heinrich, when in reality it had taken perhaps a full minute. Still, Heinrich had to still himself and calm himself down. He looked around again. Nobody seemed to have noticed the entire ordeal. Everyone had their faces down towards the report they were working on or the assignment they had been given. Heinrich took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and willed his nerves to calm down. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes, took the next sheet of paper and began to read through the names.
It was a significant amount of time before Heinrich felt that the worst was behind him. Never again did the names "Annmarie and Heinz Beckmann" appear on his lists. He made sure to tell them to be extra careful with their activities and with what they said in public. It wasn't until after the war that he told his daughter what had happened. By that time, Heinz and Annmarie had their two children born, a daughter named Barbara and a son named Michel. As Germany rebuilt itself out of the ashes of war and tyranny, many of its citizens looked across the ocean for a new start. For Heinz and Annmarie, Canada called out to them. They emigrated to Canada in 1954, to Toronto. Barbara would meet a nice young man named Charles while she attended university. When she had finished her education degree, they married. She taught a few years in Toronto while Charles finished some grad studies, and they moved west to Alberta. After a couple of miscarriages, they were blessed to welcome a little girl into their lives. a couple of years later they waited for their next child to be born.
On a day in late June, in Edmonton, Alberta, a small baby boy was born to Charles and Barbara. Unlike their experience with their daughter, some serious complications arose. Barbara's health was shattered due in some part to negligence of the hospital staff. In addition to that, the baby boy was struggling with his own health issues. The doctors told Charles and Barbara to give the baby a name quickly, for it was looking like he would not survive for long. Barbara would not accept the doctor's diagnosis. She stayed up as late as she was physically able to, feeding her son as much as he would take. When she became so exhausted, her loving husband would take over so she could catch a few moments of sleep. As soon as she was awake again, she took the little boy back into her arms and continued to care for him. While the baby's health eventually recovered, her health did not. She was saddened to learn that she would never be able to conceive anymore children. She never complained about any of this, as she wanted to make sure that her son was raised properly. She did not see the cost to her health to be a great sacrifice when compared to the life of her son.
Now those of you that know me quite well may have figured out the connection between these two stories and the title of this post. For those of you that are still wondering, let me tell you.
I'm not supposed to be here.
I will confess that some of the details are my own interpretation and imaginings of the events that happened to my great-grandfather, Heinrich. What we do know is that he did work in a government office, he did process the names of those who were suspected enemies of the state, and he did make a list disappear when he found the names of his daughter and son-in-law on it. I am not sure when it happened. I think it was after his son Walter had died (that part of the story is as true as I know it to be), although it could have happened before. I do not know with any certainty what thoughts went through his head, nor exactly how he destroyed the list. I do not know for certain what would have happened to Heinz and Annmarie Beckmann had Heinrich processed the list with their names on it like he should have done. The vast majority of those people were never heard from again, so I can make a safe assumption that they likely would not have had their two children. This means that Barbara Beckmann, my mother, would not have been born. This means that I would not have been born to Charles and Barbara Andrews.
That's one reason why I am not supposed to be here.
The second reason why I am not supposed to be here.
There are likely a thousand more reasons as to why I should not be here. A choice made by an ancestor, a mistake averted by a stranger. I think of the only car accident I have been involved in which had I been traveling a little faster would have ended up more on the tragic side than it did. I think of narrowly avoiding being trampled by a rather large and panicky cow when I was 13. I think of a choice I almost made as a teenager that would have ended my life much sooner than expected, and how grateful I am to have chosen differently. Some may suggest that I am exaggerating the events I described to imbue some sort of glorious purpose of my existence. So be it. Think what you will, but know this: I share these stories for a few reasons.
First, to provide a record of these events for my children and future grandchildren (fingers crossed). Second, to share a part of who I am with those who are interested. And third, to share a message. These two stories are connected by lineage, but I see another thread that needs to addressed. Too often we face choices in our lives that, while important to us in the here and now, can have an impact on the future that is harder to envision. My great grandfather could have been caught in his small act of defiance, but he chose to act in that manner anyways. My mother could have been excused for giving up on the seemingly lost cause of her sickly infant, but she chose to act in the manner that she did anyways. I do not know if my great grandfather knows of the good he did by allowing my grandparents to have a family. I do not know if my mother realizes the number of lives I have touched for good because of her sacrifice in giving me life. I do not know fully how I impact my student who is struggling against depression, my family member who has fallen on hard times and is receiving assistance from me, or if the time I took to brighten a complete stranger's day with an act of kindness will lead to some wonderful in that person's life. What I do know is that the chances that wonderful things will develop from the good things I try to do each day will be zero if I do nothing. I may not save the soul if I try, but I know I won't save it if I walk on by and do nothing. I never met my great grandfather, but he is a hero to me. My mother has been gone for over 15 years, and she is a hero to me. There are so many who have touched my life in ways that they may never know or understand who are heroes to me.
If I have been such a person to you, then take a moment to silently thank Heinrich Herman Hassforther and Barbara Magdalena Andrews for their parts in making me who I am today. Are you looking for a miracle? Have I blessed your life in any significant way? Have I done anything that has made your life brighter and happier? If I have, then you have your miracle, because as I stated before, I'm not supposed to be here.
Friday, December 30, 2016
The Year That Was 2016
This has definitely been an interesting year.
For some, it has been a horrible year. For others, it has been a really good year. Lots of momentous stuff has happened, and for me, I enjoyed the ride. Most of all, I loved the time spent with family. I love watching my beloved little girls grow and get bigger and smarter with each passing day. Barbara has survived her first full year of Primary, memorizing Articles of Faith, and enjoying singing along with the Primary songs. She has also learned to dress herself, and it is amazing how quickly she picks up on things. Just the other night I heard her tell her big brother's girlfriend about her Angel Omi (my mother for whom she is named after). Hope, meanwhile, is talking more, walking more, and getting into typical toddler trouble. It is a wonder to see how two children raised in the same home can have such variety in their personalities. While potty training is taking a lot longer, her chattiness is progressing quite nicely. She discovered a love for the German gingerbread cookies Daddy buys each Christmas and has even snuck some out of her sister's stocking.
It has been a bit tough for my stepmother. She has suffered for quite a while with a pair of bad hips and earlier this month had one of them replaced. The recovery is proceeding, albeit slowly. Dad is once again doing what he needs to in looking after her, but still managing to stay on top of some of his projects. He recently booked the Arrogant Worms to sing for the town of Alix. Heather and I already have our tickets for the March concert. Tara's family is also doing well. Amy started Grade 12, Connor is in Grade 9 at the high school with us, Liam started kindergarten, and Kaeleigh was baptized earlier this year. I have gotten a few hugs from Liam this year, so it is nice to see him warm up to me. My brother Kevin came to live with us this spring. He has had a difficult time as of late, and we had a spare room. He found a job quickly and has never been late on the rent, and it is nice to have him around. He is much more handier around the house for fixer-ups than I ever have been, and the girls love having their uncle Kevin with us. I am grateful to be there for him the way Tara was for me eight years ago.
Dustin graduated from Lethbridge college with his interior design degree, and he was able to secure employment for most of the year. He and Andrew adopted a puppy (about Annie's size), so it was nice to have a dog in the family photo this year. Dayton continues to do well in his studies at Mount Royal, and his girlfriend Hayley is a good addition to the family. Barbara especially loves it when she comes over to visit. I was very happy with her photography skills at our photo shoot this fall.
School has continued to be good for me. It is hard for me to say that I love my work when it doesn't feel like work most days. I have amazing students that continue to reassure me that some good people are up and coming in this world. Our principal, John Picard, retired at the end of the last school year. My former neighbor across the hall Bharati Singh was hired as the new principal, and she has continued the streak of excellent principals at the high school since I started. I have Amy in one of my Science 30 classes which is really nice for me.
I had one of the best years that I can remember. On the geek side, I finally broke down and bought Arrow on DVD. Halfway through Season 3 and I am glad I did it. The superhero TV shows are my favorites right now as in addition to Arrow I am enjoying Agents of Shield, Supergirl, Legends of Tomorrow, and the Flash. Celebrity wise I was fortunate enough to meet two idols at the Calgary Comic Expo: William Shatner (James T Kirk) and Peter Mayhew (Chewbacca). Heather and I took a great vacation to Vegas for the convention celebrating 50 years of Star Trek. Lots of fun, laughs, and nostalgia. I was able to get Nichelle Nichol's autograph and thank her for her work. Lots of other great experiences there. Heather and I also caught the Teryy Fator show at the Mirage while we were there, and we were duly impressed. I also started a Star Trek blog that usually gets a couple hundred views per posting. The response has been almost universally positive, with no troll sightings.
I have heard many reasons why 2016 has been a bad year. From economic hardships to politics to celebrity deaths, it has been tough. I can't remember a US election year where the two main candidates were so undesirable that I was concerned for the outcome regardless of who had won. As I watched the news and listened to people around me, I couldn't help but wonder if we have not become more divided as a people and society. This has led me further strengthen my resolve to stand for tolerance, unity, respect, and overall better understanding for all. It is hard and I do not always succeed, but it is ever more important. I will freely admit that my faith in humanity has weakened a bit, but my faith in God has become even stronger. That will do in light of the angrier world we live in.
As I get ready to try making beef jerky for the first time with my new food dehydrator (Heather did well this Christmas) and look forward to the fun and excitement that 2017 will bring, I give my now typical Top Ten events of the year!
10. Movie Event of the Year - Star Trek:Beyond. I loved this movie. It was fun and felt like the Star Trek of old. Great movie to celebrate 50 years.
9. TV Highlight of the Year - Loved AGT again, and thought it was again the strongest season, but this year the highlight goes to the Alien Invasion that went through Supergirl, Flash, Arrow, and Legends of Tomorrow. Some of the most fun I had with TV shows in a long while.
8. Personal Growth Highlight of the Year - I have always enjoyed writing, and I have always wanted to write a review for each Star Trek episode. With my Addicted to Star Trek blog I have been able to do both!
7. Surprise of the Year - This again goes to my sister, Tara, and her self-publishing. For Christmas I received a book of all my Thoughts of the Week that I post each Sunday on Facebook. It brought tears to my eyes that my sister decided to make me a published author.
6. Friend Highlight of the Year - Lots of good times with friends this year, but if I were to pick only one highlight, it was the Calgary Comic Expo where I was able to reconnect with two old friends, Rob Clark and Levi Godfrey.
5. Children Highlight of the Year - Barbara has started to learn how to read. Hope and I have a "Hug Cuddles" song that she loves to sing with me.
4. Milestone of the Year - watching Barbara perform in her very first Primary presentation. Yup, she was the one who was waving from the stands.
3. Spiritual Highlight of the Year - Going to the Temple in Las Vegas with my wife and some new friends we met on Facebook.
2. Family Event of the Year - Attending the surprise birthday party to celebrate my father's 70th trip around the Sun. Great seeing almost the whole family together.
1. Event of the Year - Going to the Star Trek convention with my beloved Heather. This was the first trip alone with her since the kids were born. It was well worth it. Really, we could have been on a rock in the Pacific, and as long as she was there I would have been happy.
For some, it has been a horrible year. For others, it has been a really good year. Lots of momentous stuff has happened, and for me, I enjoyed the ride. Most of all, I loved the time spent with family. I love watching my beloved little girls grow and get bigger and smarter with each passing day. Barbara has survived her first full year of Primary, memorizing Articles of Faith, and enjoying singing along with the Primary songs. She has also learned to dress herself, and it is amazing how quickly she picks up on things. Just the other night I heard her tell her big brother's girlfriend about her Angel Omi (my mother for whom she is named after). Hope, meanwhile, is talking more, walking more, and getting into typical toddler trouble. It is a wonder to see how two children raised in the same home can have such variety in their personalities. While potty training is taking a lot longer, her chattiness is progressing quite nicely. She discovered a love for the German gingerbread cookies Daddy buys each Christmas and has even snuck some out of her sister's stocking.
It has been a bit tough for my stepmother. She has suffered for quite a while with a pair of bad hips and earlier this month had one of them replaced. The recovery is proceeding, albeit slowly. Dad is once again doing what he needs to in looking after her, but still managing to stay on top of some of his projects. He recently booked the Arrogant Worms to sing for the town of Alix. Heather and I already have our tickets for the March concert. Tara's family is also doing well. Amy started Grade 12, Connor is in Grade 9 at the high school with us, Liam started kindergarten, and Kaeleigh was baptized earlier this year. I have gotten a few hugs from Liam this year, so it is nice to see him warm up to me. My brother Kevin came to live with us this spring. He has had a difficult time as of late, and we had a spare room. He found a job quickly and has never been late on the rent, and it is nice to have him around. He is much more handier around the house for fixer-ups than I ever have been, and the girls love having their uncle Kevin with us. I am grateful to be there for him the way Tara was for me eight years ago.
Dustin graduated from Lethbridge college with his interior design degree, and he was able to secure employment for most of the year. He and Andrew adopted a puppy (about Annie's size), so it was nice to have a dog in the family photo this year. Dayton continues to do well in his studies at Mount Royal, and his girlfriend Hayley is a good addition to the family. Barbara especially loves it when she comes over to visit. I was very happy with her photography skills at our photo shoot this fall.
School has continued to be good for me. It is hard for me to say that I love my work when it doesn't feel like work most days. I have amazing students that continue to reassure me that some good people are up and coming in this world. Our principal, John Picard, retired at the end of the last school year. My former neighbor across the hall Bharati Singh was hired as the new principal, and she has continued the streak of excellent principals at the high school since I started. I have Amy in one of my Science 30 classes which is really nice for me.
I had one of the best years that I can remember. On the geek side, I finally broke down and bought Arrow on DVD. Halfway through Season 3 and I am glad I did it. The superhero TV shows are my favorites right now as in addition to Arrow I am enjoying Agents of Shield, Supergirl, Legends of Tomorrow, and the Flash. Celebrity wise I was fortunate enough to meet two idols at the Calgary Comic Expo: William Shatner (James T Kirk) and Peter Mayhew (Chewbacca). Heather and I took a great vacation to Vegas for the convention celebrating 50 years of Star Trek. Lots of fun, laughs, and nostalgia. I was able to get Nichelle Nichol's autograph and thank her for her work. Lots of other great experiences there. Heather and I also caught the Teryy Fator show at the Mirage while we were there, and we were duly impressed. I also started a Star Trek blog that usually gets a couple hundred views per posting. The response has been almost universally positive, with no troll sightings.
I have heard many reasons why 2016 has been a bad year. From economic hardships to politics to celebrity deaths, it has been tough. I can't remember a US election year where the two main candidates were so undesirable that I was concerned for the outcome regardless of who had won. As I watched the news and listened to people around me, I couldn't help but wonder if we have not become more divided as a people and society. This has led me further strengthen my resolve to stand for tolerance, unity, respect, and overall better understanding for all. It is hard and I do not always succeed, but it is ever more important. I will freely admit that my faith in humanity has weakened a bit, but my faith in God has become even stronger. That will do in light of the angrier world we live in.
As I get ready to try making beef jerky for the first time with my new food dehydrator (Heather did well this Christmas) and look forward to the fun and excitement that 2017 will bring, I give my now typical Top Ten events of the year!
10. Movie Event of the Year - Star Trek:Beyond. I loved this movie. It was fun and felt like the Star Trek of old. Great movie to celebrate 50 years.
9. TV Highlight of the Year - Loved AGT again, and thought it was again the strongest season, but this year the highlight goes to the Alien Invasion that went through Supergirl, Flash, Arrow, and Legends of Tomorrow. Some of the most fun I had with TV shows in a long while.
8. Personal Growth Highlight of the Year - I have always enjoyed writing, and I have always wanted to write a review for each Star Trek episode. With my Addicted to Star Trek blog I have been able to do both!
7. Surprise of the Year - This again goes to my sister, Tara, and her self-publishing. For Christmas I received a book of all my Thoughts of the Week that I post each Sunday on Facebook. It brought tears to my eyes that my sister decided to make me a published author.
6. Friend Highlight of the Year - Lots of good times with friends this year, but if I were to pick only one highlight, it was the Calgary Comic Expo where I was able to reconnect with two old friends, Rob Clark and Levi Godfrey.
5. Children Highlight of the Year - Barbara has started to learn how to read. Hope and I have a "Hug Cuddles" song that she loves to sing with me.
4. Milestone of the Year - watching Barbara perform in her very first Primary presentation. Yup, she was the one who was waving from the stands.
3. Spiritual Highlight of the Year - Going to the Temple in Las Vegas with my wife and some new friends we met on Facebook.
2. Family Event of the Year - Attending the surprise birthday party to celebrate my father's 70th trip around the Sun. Great seeing almost the whole family together.
1. Event of the Year - Going to the Star Trek convention with my beloved Heather. This was the first trip alone with her since the kids were born. It was well worth it. Really, we could have been on a rock in the Pacific, and as long as she was there I would have been happy.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Refusing to Learn
It was an election like none other. Hillary Clinton and
Donald Trump were the two least popular individuals to compete for the White
House and the seat of President of the United States of America. Both main
parties put forward a candidate that was heavily flawed, mired in corruption
and scandal, and the rest of the world looked on and wondered if the USA had
gone insane. Accusations of rigged elections, voter suppression and
intimidation, and sins decades past were paraded across the stage. In the end,
when the dust settled, Donald Trump defied the odds and became the 45th
elected President of the United States. In my own personal opinion, never has a
man so unqualified reached such a lofty height. Despite my disappointment, this
was a fair and democratic election, and though I wish the outcome had been
different (I was hoping for independent candidate Evan McMullin to pull out the
ultimate miracle), it is done and in the history books.
More than any other election, 2016 will go down as
the election with the most fear-mongering known in modern US history. Not since
the Civil Rights movement have racial tensions been so high. Both sides of the
election seemed to bring out the worst in people, but I would have to say that
on the Republican side we saw the worst of the worse. Trump and his most ardent
supporters mocked, persecuted, and insulted a wide variety of groups. From
women and sexual assault victims, to Muslims, Jews, and Mormons, to Mexicans
and even the disabled, Trump spoke his mind, which led to others speaking their
minds. As a result of last night’s election, many people in America felt
something they had never felt before on election night: fear. It is that fear
that I wish to address in this post. It is something I can relate to, though not
necessarily to the extent that others are feeling right now.
 |
| As a result of last night's election, many people felt something they have never felt before on election night: fear. |
As many of you reading this know (or maybe don’t
know, as who knows how far this will go), I am a teacher by profession. Like
many of my colleagues, I develop an attitude of care and concern for the
well-being of my students. I often refer to my students as “my kids”, which
started before my own children came into my life. I acknowledge that for many
teenagers these days there is a lot of high idealistic hopes that have yet to
be tempered with life experience. This can lead to many of my students
developing concerns that too many adults brush aside as being the exaggerations
and anxieties of youth. I am not one of those. It was not too long ago that I
was a teenager or a university student (OK, it was a long time ago, almost half
of my life ago, but I still remember it), so I understand how these feelings
can affect a person. They affect all of us to different extents. Some of us
adults have just become very adept at killing those feelings, leaving them a
bit emotionally muted on the inside. In other words, we all deal with those
same feelings in different ways. It was the concerns of a former student
expressed on social media that has prompted all of this, and for that I am thankful
to her.
One group that is feeling very concerned are Muslim
Americans. This is the religion of my former student. She shared an article about how Muslim-American women were now afraid to wear their hijab in public
for fear of their safety. It was heartbreaking. To use intimidation to cause a
person to feel that they cannot worship God as they wish is simply wrong. I
gave an encouraging message about being extra vigilant to stand against
prejudice and intolerance. She then asked a poignant question.
“How do you educate those who block it out though?
Who refuse to learn?”
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| How do you educate those who block it out? |
A very good question indeed.
I gave a slightly longer reply, but the wheels in my
head just kept turning. It was one of the moments for me when I just had to get
typing and put these thoughts to words on paper…er, screen, I guess.
First off, if you are one who is thinking of typing
up some sort of response or comeback, claiming that my student is acting the
victim, or that people who are fearful should grow a pair and accept the
results, stop whining, move back to wherever they came from, get over it, cry
you a river, I have a simple two word request for you: stop it. There is a time
and a place for that sort of thing, and this is neither. If you can’t handle
that, then stop reading this now, because you may not like what is to come. By
not being able bite your tongue with a smarmy comeback to people who are
legitimately hurting I am not sure you are presently in a frame of mind to responsibly
and maturely have a dialogue with me. If you cannot respond with any
sense of compassion in this, then I ask you not to respond at all. Chances are
you do not know what it is like to wake up fearful of the world you live in, and for that
you should be grateful. If you think you have and are still thinking such
thoughts, then perhaps your experience pales in comparison to what millions of
people are feeling right now. And if you still think you have a right to tell
these buttercups to suck it up, then chalk it up to a middle-aged bald guy who
has an understanding of waking up each morning afraid of how the world is going
to treat you. Maybe in your eyes I haven’t yet fully healed from that
myself. If you think I am pandering to “victims”, well, you have that right, I
suppose. Just understand that in this forum I will exercise my right to delete
your boorish and insensitive comments. If you have a problem with that, then I suggest you grow a pair and accept the results, or just suck it up, Buttercup.
My response is not only to those of the Muslim faith
that feel threatened by this development. It is to anyone who feels that with
these election results that America has rejected them. It is for those of us
who were on the “winning side”. For those of us who were looking in and
wondering “what the heck is happening?” and were shaking our heads, trying to
wake up from a trip to Bizarreland.
Most of all, this is for RJ.
How do we respond to those who refuse to learn? How
do we deal with those who seem to be intent on hanging on to their
misconceptions and fears? How do we get through to those who are so wrapped up
in their comfortable misgivings towards those who look, believe, feel, or act
differently? More importantly, how do we move forward when others try to stop
us from doing so?
I do not claim to be the smartest, wisest, or most
knowledgeable man to have walked the Earth, but here it goes. This what we must
do with such people.
First, be firm. Hatred of this nature brings nothing
that is good. When confronted with such hatred, we must be firm in our resolve
to stand against it. We must make the stand whenever we encounter it. We may be
standing beside someone else, in a group, or even standing alone, but we must
stand. We must make sure that at the very least while we are present we will
not accept that hatred of this kind has a place.
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| When confronted with such hatred, we must be firm in our resolve to stand against it. |
Second, be brave. Making stands such as this will
seldom be a matter of convenience and will often require great courage. Know
that each time you stand makes you stronger for the next time.
Third, respond with love. This is hard, believe me.
When a person will not see you for who you really are, it is easy to return
hate for hate. That is the road that these individuals know all too well, and
it likely has made them miserable. If nothing else, you have taken the high
road. In all of the religions I have studied I have found a
common thread that God, however you view Him, loves us all as His children. I have found that the best way to show love to others is to do good to them. Serve them. In my church we have a story of a goodly king named Benjamin who taught that when we are in the service of our fellow man we are in the service of our God. One
of my favorite lines from the Quran says to compete with each other in doing
good. So when these people refuse to accept that Muslims or whatever group you belong to are
good, then prove them wrong with your love and actions.
 |
| Prove them wrong with your love and actions. |
Fourth, forgive them. Regardless of what you believe
in, forgiveness is essential for a happy life. Whether or not you think it is a
commandment from God, forgiveness helps heal your soul. Something that may help
in this is understanding why this person feels the way they do. Some have been
raised with this mistrust because of the traditions of their parents. Others
have had difficult experiences when younger that have left a sad scar upon
their souls that has had trouble healing over the years. Many seem to find
comfort wrapping themselves up in their fears of that which is foreign to them.
It seems illogical, but it is nonetheless real. When you know where they have
come from and understand a little of their journey, you will find that
forgiveness and compassion towards them will grow within you. They will feel
that from you as well. This is one of the most effective tools at breaking down
those walls that they have erected around their souls.
 |
| Forgiveness helps heal your soul. |
Fifth, recognize your own refusals to learn. One
thing made clear to me in this election is that people are fed up. They are fed
up with racism, prejudice, corruption, and intolerance. Understand that this is
felt by both those who voted for Trump and by those who voted for Clinton. You
see, we all have misconceptions of others. It is easy to point out those to
others, but it is another to see them within ourselves. As we work on
ourselves, we open our eyes to better understand where this comes from. We must
try to make ourselves better, often in spite of those who rage against us.
 |
| As we work on ourselves, we open our eyes to better understand |
Finally, accept some truths. One truth is that not
everyone will accept you. Their journey to understanding is just too hard, or
they are too unwilling, or unable, or just enjoy being a jerk too much to
learn. Leave them be. If you have done the other things, then you are a better
person for it. Accept that you cannot change Trump and his most deplorable
supporters. Accept that some people will be rotten to the core for the rest of
their miserable lives and will always hate you for who you are. That is the
truth. I asked my four-year old daughter how to deal with people who are mean
to you. She said “tell them to stop, and if they don’t stop, just keep trying”.
Wise words, but they are colored by the beautiful naivety of innocent youth. At
some point, you wash your hands of these people and move on. If they cannot see
your worth and beauty, then they deserve to share in none of it. Your life is
more important. When it comes to anti-Muslim sentiments, I have made the stand
that cost me some friendships. Yes, it hurt. That is life, and sometimes life hurts. I will not sacrifice what I know to be right just to hang on to
a relationship with someone who attacks others out of hatred or ignorance. If they will
not let go of their hatred, then sometimes we have to let go of them.
 |
| If they will not let go of their hatred, then sometimes we have to let go of them. |
One last truth to accept. You are not alone. In the
Bible, the prophet Elisha was speaking with a servant of the King as an enemy
army encircled their city. The servant lamented that the enemy was so large in
number. Elisha told the servant to “fear not, for they that be with us are more
than they that be with them”. Elisha then prayed to God and asked Him to open
the eyes of the servant, who then saw a heavenly army with chariots of fire
were surrounding the enemy in far greater numbers. Again, regardless of what
you believe, know that there are far greater numbers of people that stand with
you on this. In regards to this election, while I understand that it can be an
interpretation of rejection by a whole nation, do not forget that even though
she lost the election, Clinton won the most votes. Add to that all those who
voted third party, far more people rejected Trump’s hateful rhetoric. I even believe
that a significant number if not a majority of those who voted for Trump do not
share those beliefs. Those who refuse to learn are in the minority, and while
being in the majority does not instantly mean that you are right in all things,
I like to think that in this case it does. If nothing else, know that I stand
with you. Even if I’m not physically standing beside you, I stand with you.
So, in short, stick to your guns, be brave, be
patient and forgiving, love beats hate, some fools never learn, and you are not
alone in this. Hmmm, maybe I should have just said that. Ah, well. Sometimes I
just like to hear myself type.
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