The Collective

Let's talk about Ayn Rand today, shall we?

Her's is a name we hear sometimes, often associated with her two most famous works "The Fountainhead" and "Atlas Shrugged." It is a name that might come up occasionally in the next few months, as Paul Ryan (VP candidate) has sometimes said he is an ardent supporter. He has dramatically changed his tune in the last few months, citing his reported support of her philosophy as an "urban legend." However, in remarks made a few years ago to a society dedicated to her teachings he is on record as saying, "I grew up reading Ayn Rand and it taught me quite a bit about who I am and what my value systems are and what my beliefs are. It has inspired me so much that it's required reading in my office for all my interns and staff . . . ." (It isn't clear which novel/pamphlet he is referencing there) ". . . . The reason I got involved in public service, by and large, if I had to credit one thinker, one person, it would be Ayn Rand. And the fight we are in here, make no mistake about it, is a fight of individualism versus collectivism."  

So why is it important now that he distance himself? After all, what he said there merely points to an over-riding philosophy of individual rights versus collective good--the very debate many politicians wish to frame right now. (Aside: the weird thing is, of course, that which side a politician is on depends on the issue. Democrats want individual rights when it comes to marriage, reproduction, privacy, and actual, you know, individuals, etc. Republicans want individual rights when it comes wealth, business practice and, you know, corporations recognized as individuals, etc. So neither side really has a very good claim to individualism vs. collectivism. End aside.) Why is he so antsy?

Well, quite simply, Ayn Rand's fundamental philosophy, without apology, is anti-Christ. She rejected Communist economic theory wholly and completely when she immigrated to the United States (with childhood scars over her parents' crushed entrepreneurial hopes). What she did not reject, however, was the Marxist assertion that "religion was the opiate of the people." But whereas Marx believed that perfect, collective government control was the antidote to religion, Rand asserted that the real antidote was pure, unbridled capitalism where self-interest was the most important value.

Lest you fear my own progressive tendencies have caused me to misread Ms. Rand, here are a few more famous quotes/anecdotes.plots:

Her first novel was quite widely-read, though very controversial, and made into a movie. She was very angry when the following line was cut from the climax scene, because she found it the most important line her protagonist had to say, "I wish to come here and say that I am a man who does not exist for others." 

"Achievement of your happiness is the only moral purpose of your life, and that happiness, not pain or mindless self-indulgence is the proof of your moral integrity, since it is the proof and the result of your loyalty to the achievement of your values."

"From the smallest necessity to the highest religious abstraction, from the wheel to the skyscraper, everything we are and everything we have comes from one attribute of man--the function of the reasoning mind."

"I swear, by my life and my love of it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine."

"If any civilization is to survive, it is the morality of altruism that men have to reject."

She condemned much of our great and classic Western literature and proved herself to be rather poorly read, much more interested in movies than books. She descried Anna Karenina as the most "evil book in serious literature." 

One of her novels refers to people outside free-market entrepreneurs as "moochers," "looters," and "college-infected parasites." 

Her first novel is about a man who is uninterested in money, only in preserving the integrity of his ideas. She drops this pretense by the second novel and casts millionaires, barons and tycoons as her protagonists, portraying them as the true oppressed minority.

It seems she followed her philosophy of self-interest to the end: she lived in an open marriage (with a long and well-known affair with one of her many acolytes who headed up what he ironically called a "collective" of her worshipers), isolated herself from anyone who bothered or disagreed with her, cut-off relationship after relationship with those who might have helped her. What she never did was start a business. Hmmm.

Am I cherry-picking? Of course. I am making a point. Liberals have sometimes quoted her too when it comes to individual rights and choice and privacy. She is the mother of Libertarianism, and in times past, libertarians were as likely to vote Democratic as Republican. Part of the difficulty in the Republican party of late is the very real distance between pure Libertarians and the Christian right. One side would legislate nothing, the other side would legislate nothing but morality. 

So what is the point? I think Rand's overriding philosophy is inherently dangerous and at odds with true Christianity. Has she said some good things? Certainly. In thousands of written (rambling) pages even somebody like Rand might stumble on some truth. My deep dislike of her philosophy is personal too. I must admit to carrying deep resentment of anybody who says that somebody is "too smart to be a Christian." It is at that moment I need to repeat the mantra: charity never judgeth, charity never judgeth . . . .

To conclude I'd like to contrast two quotes. The first is from Rand who said this, "It only stands to reason that when there's sacrifice, there's someone collecting the sacrificial offerings. Where there is service, there is someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice is speaking of slaves and masters, and intends to be the masters." Rand was speaking of both government and God. Don't get me wrong, I have no delusions that the government has as much right as God to demand sacrifice. My argument is that any philosophy that leads us to believe that all forms of sacrifice (yes, even taxes) are wrong, eventually will lead us away from God too. When we are led away from God, we cease to love our fellow man. Here is the second quote, from Joseph Smith, " a religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has the power sufficient to produce the faith necessary unto life and salvation." 

When Plantboy and I were married, we were told that marriage over the altar symbolized the need to lay all we are on the altar of sacrifice for the good of our partner and our family. Rand's philosophy would have us take and take and take and find all our happiness in serving only our own self-interest. To use our agency to glorify only ourselves. Christ taught the opposite: to give and give and give and find all our happiness in service to God by serving others. To give our agency back to God and glorify Him.

I'm not saying I have arrived there by any stretch of the imagination, but I think I have a clear idea which direction I would like to be headed. And in the short term, that most decidedly means NOT voting for a candidate who EVER said his philosophy was primarily influenced by Rand. To now say otherwise is a flip-flop that should make even Romney blush.

One to Watch

Here is my female candidate for President in 2016:

I heard an interview with her several months ago about her frustration with the inability of Congress to create a Consumer Protection Agency that had some teeth. This pictured quote is what I have been trying to articulate for a long time.

What do we think? Is there some unspoken underlying social contract? What obligations to our country and fellowmen come with being a free citizen?

A Big Country

Two posts left to go on vacation coming and goings, and then I'll get back to our regularly scheduled programming.

In the meantime, here are a few news bullet-points from our recent goings-on:

1. I cry every time Dobby dies. Every. Time. I love JK Rowling more with each reading. We are more than halfway through Book 7--I have read all 7 volumes out loud to my nine year-old in the past 13 months. Whew. That's a lot of pages. It has been wonderful to see them all fresh again through his eyes.

2. One of week of swimming lessons down and one to go. It was hot last week, so the pool was a good fit. However, I spent TWO hours folding laundry on Saturday night because I had gotten so behind.

3. Yesterday was razzleberry pie day. This only happens once each year. I think it is better than Christmas.

4. This news story (and others like them) has me so angry that my head was exploding yesterday. I found TamathyC at church just so we could freak out together. (I linked that particular website because the author extensively links to other news stories.) The AP did a story Sunday about some protesters in Tennesse actually attempting to break up a Friday worship service at an existing mosque with the volume of their protest. I find the cherry-picking of the Constitution that these people are doing horrible, as well as the highly public Tea Party involvement in these demonstrations: WE can "peaceably" assemble, but YOU may not worship as you choose, at least in public; oh and we all carry guns, too. If there are LDS people involved in these protests, well, they of course have political rights like anyone else, but I genuinely hope they have studied the history of our own people before they decide that America isn't a place for any particular religion.

As to the post title.

When we came home from vacation, we stayed at a hotel in Idaho. Being on the tail-end of its time zone, western Idaho stays light until very late in the summer. My mother and I had the kids (Plantboy had to come home early). They had been fed and had a chance to swim and it was still only 8:00 and bright sunlight was streaming through the room.

In desperation we turned on the TV and found three choices: porn, $10 for a movie we'd already seen three times or the TMC movie that was just starting. We opted for the third choice. It was called "The Big Country," a western starring Gregory Peck. Yes, that's right--a WESTERN starring Gregory Peck. We thought the kids would make it about 30 minutes through, get bored and we'd all go to bed.

Two and a half hours later we turned out the lights.

I was ready to call it quits and then Burl Ives showed up at party to make a speech I couldn't tear my eyes from. Later I learned he won an Academy Award for the performance. I should say so.

But I will back up.

The movie is the story of a Yankee, Gregory Peck, who has fallen in love with a Texas rancher's daughter (Pat) who went to the east, probably for boarding school. James (GP) is a tough guy where he is from as some kind of naval captain, but he is really out of place in Pat's world. Within a few hours of getting off the stagecoach, he is drawn into the middle of a terrible feud between Pat's family and the Hennesseys, who also own a ranch.

The fued has been going on for some time, because neither ranch has easy water access on their land. Each depends on a third ranch, left to the last-living Maragon--a beautiful young woman named Julie who happens to be Pat's best friend. Her ranch is called "The Big Muddy," so named after the wide, slow river that runs through her property. Her family has, for generatios, arbitrated between the two parties by allowing both to have whatever water they want. But the Big Muddy isn't what it once was and Julie isn't sure she can continue maintaining the ranch. Pat's father wants to buy her out at a handsome price; the Hennesseys are hoping that their creepy oldest son will be able to woo Julie into marriage. (She is educated and classy, he is ignorant and filthy--THAT'S going to happen.)

Riveting conflicts abound. James, moderate and modern in his ideas, seeks from the very beginning to placate the Hennesseys and stay out of the feud. Pat's attitude toward her neighbors, "they are little better than dogs!" is overwhelming to James, as he is confronted with a side of the woman he thought he was coming west to marry. Pat's father is a tough and terrifying old fart who outwardly keeps up the trappings of a civilized and well-ordered home but is filled with prejudice, hatred and disgust for those who are different. His ranch foreman is played by Charlton Heston--a man who has loved Pat for a long time and so automatically hates James. The families hate each other in a rivalry that would give the Hatfields and McCoys a run for their money. As for the cherry on the top of all this tension, James begins to have feelings for Julie, seeing in her a kindred spirit whom the west was unable to turn into a savage.

This movie is epic in the way old movies are epic. Grand, tough, and sometimes overblown performances. Amazing panoramic shots and technicolor made-up ladies. Gorgeous costumes and settings. Stunts that are simultaneously more real and more silly because there is no special effects department to clean them up later. Stark settings without green screens. It is the kind of production that earns the title "film" instead of the default, "movie."

It was a weird sort of western and I loved it. The shootout at the end is more characterized by who walks away, than in who walks away victorious. Reason wins the day, not might. The only clear good guy is James himself, and James is good because he finds a way to champion everybody, to bring out the best in them. From the overly-stereotyped Hispanic ranch worker to Old Man Hennessey to Pat herself. A fact she discovers too late to save her engagement.

The kids were funny, and kept asking a hundred questions throughout. My favorite had to be the Youngling, however, bouncing on the bed in time to the soundtrack of James riding through the ranch, "I love this music!"As the evil posse/mob forms and the music darkens he said, "I no like this music." Padawn kept asking a hundred questions about The Big Muddy. The next day, when driving through Eastern Oregon, we passed a small, meandering river and he pointed out the window shouting, "It's the Big Muddy!"

There has been much commentary done on this rather out-of-character western, with a lot of mention made of Cold War symbolism throughout. Everyone keeps telling James not to get lost, because after all, it is a big country. It almost becomes a joke. But I think that is the point of the movie. We DO live in a big country. There is a place for everyone. In light of the recent protests against Muslims across the country, perhaps the message of this classic movie is more timely than ever. Our differences are real. Very real. It is useless to pretend they don't exist. However, it doesn't necessarily follow that we can't exist side-by-side, in a spirit of love and community.

What we need is a great mediator. Someone like James McKay. Like Julie Maragon. Where HAVE all the cowboys gone? Old Man Hennessy called such folks "real ladies and gentleman." How has reason and compromise and mutual conciliation been replaced with reaction, rigidity and loathing? What happened to civility? United we stand. Divided we fall.

No, Really, My Neighborhood is the Coolest

This year is the first time we've been at this address on the 4th of July. I don't know if we will ever be anywhere else again.

The festivities actually go on for several nights. We are right on the edge of the urban growth boundary (a rather complicated and controversial law put into place in the late 70's in Oregon to help limit urban sprawl), so there is an enormous field about a block north of us. Until this weekend, I thought the field was only useful for the luscious free blackberries growing on the borders that we harvest there each summer. It turns out that the field is also the venue of a local rodeo over the 4th of July weekend each year. The rodeo runs Thursday-Sunday and each night there are fireworks at about 10 pm.

A lot of people don't like to pay to get into the rodeo, but they like to watch the fireworks, which are always the biggest the night of the 4th. Naturally, if you want to see the fireworks, our neighborhood is the best spot for that.

My neighbors take this seriously, and assume the responsibility to entertain all of the visitors to our neck of the woods with a pre-fireworks show. The festivities kicked off at about 7 pm, when our neighbor a few houses up hosted the annual Firework Derby. Each participant builds a car and then powers it with any firework legally sold in Oregon. The starting line is sidewalk chalked onto the street and cars are pitted against one another. Measurements are taken, also written in chalk on the street and a winner declared. There is no race-off as most of the entered cars go down in flames. One car went at least 20 feet, but in circles, parallel to the starting line, and even backwards and ended up with a score of about 15 inches.

The crazy part? There were few actual kids entered in the contest. It was mostly adults. Drinking adults. The guy in charge is actually one of the sons of a neighbor; he started the tradition nearly 10 years ago in high school and still comes back every 4th of July to run the Derby. We found out too late to make an entry . . . . but next year! Watch out.

We got the kids in their jammies and put the baby to bed; I told Jedi and Padawan that I'd take them on a walk around the block and if the big fireworks started we would stop to watch. In the two hours we'd been in the house, our neighborhood had transformed itself into the pyromaniac's Mecca. Cars lined both sides of our entire loop, with lawn chairs on each driveway. There were barbecues going on at every other house, with huge fireworks being exploded at every third or fourth house. And.I.Mean.Huge. I've never seen anything like it: kids running with wild abandon through the streets with sparklers, boys no bigger than Jedi lighting and throwing firecrackers, Roman candles shooting 20 feet in the air, huge cases of launch-fireworks igniting one after another fifty feet in the air sending sparks all the way to the ground, teenagers tossing used fireworks into a flaming pile in the gutter, heedless of whether there might still be explosive energy left inside, and everywhere, everywhere, plenty of beer flowing.

We made our way around the block and walked down a cul-de-sac to visit one of Jedi's friends from school who looked like he was outside with his family. Their back yard backs right up to the field and they invited us back just as the rodeo-fireworks were starting. As we walked past their gutter, there was a gigantic pile of spent fireworks, what must have been hundreds of dollars, worth and the acrid smell of sulfur in a thick cloud of smoke. Friend's mom gave all the kids glow-stick necklaces and bracelets, so that we could find them in the dark as we tramped through the woods into the stubbled field.

After walking through the Gauntlet, the rodeo fireworks were a bit anti-climatic, truthfully. We dragged our way home in the dark to the final strains of God Bless America, exhausted, but with a renewed sense of determination. Our house is at the street's entrance. We may have a responsibility to the greater good next year. . . . to get visitors to the Cul-de-Sac of Fire of to a good start. There will be plenty to live up to. It was 10:30 when we got home, and I think some of our neighbors were just getting started.

So what cool things does your neighborhood do together? Or better yet, did you ever do something really stupid while you were drinking? You are welcome to post anonymously on the second. ;)

Those Cheeky Founding Fathers

Today in the car, the jedis asked about why our holiday for America is on the 4th of July. Well, my scamps love a good story, so I spun a tale for them. I told them about great men and vicious tyrants. I told them about words inflammatory enough to lead two countries to war. I told them about a vastly outmanned ragtag group of guerillas who defeated the greatest army in the world up to that time. I told them about fairness and equity and freedom. Padawan (only 4 years old, remember?) interupted when I said the date of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, "THAT is where the 4th of July comes from!"

Indeed.

I love that we don't count our country's birth from the day we were made truly united--in the mid 1860's, or from the day we fought our first major war as a country--in 1812, of from the creation of our constitution--1798, or even from some major date in the American Revolution. No, we say that our country was made on the day that WE DECLARED IT TO BE SO. When those great men signed their names to paper, committing to a cause greater than themselves; a cause that might be argued as the greatest cause ever, they said that from this day on, we are independent. And we will do whatever it takes to defend our right to say so.

I loved the first National Treasure movie. There are just so many great lines from it, but one of my very favorite is when Nick Cage's character (Ben Gates) and his buddy Riley are contemplating the Declaration at the National Archives. (A funny scene if you have been there, by the way. The archives are much smaller and darker and the Declaration is in such bad shape as to be prety much illegible.) Here is the exchange, and then Ben later comments to the curator of the archives his feelings about the men who signed this document:

Ben: Of all the words written here about freedom, there's a line here that's at the heart of all the others. "But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty to throw off such government and provide new guardsfor their future security."

Riley: People don't talk that way any more.

Ben: Beautiful, huh?

Riley: No idea what you said.

Ben: It means, if there's something wrong, those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action.

(Later scene) Ben: A toast . . . to high treason. That's what these men were committing when they signed the Declaration. Had we lost the war, they would have been hanged, beheaded, drawn and quartered, and Oh! my personal favorite -and had their entrails cut out and burned! So, here's to the men who did what was considered wrong in order to do what they knew was right.

There are things worth dying for. And if not called upon to do so, then let us not forget there are things worth living for also.

We hold these truths to be self-evident: That ALL men are created equal. That they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

A Patriotic Post Three Weeks Early

American history teaches us that political discourse has always been very volatile: from the earliest Jefferson-Hamilton rivalry to the question of slavery to the Vietnam War to our current financial meltdown. War times and tough economic times will always flush out sharply divergent opinions and philosophies, as well as everything in between. We are going through both right now. This "war on terrorism" and its various battlefields is one of the most confusing conflicts in our history. Each action and its intended (or unintended!) consequences have created a bevy of hot button issues--debt, torture, America's role in foreign affairs, rights of detainees, responsibilities toward veterans, energy and where it is purchased, troop withdrawal, what it means to "win," etc. No doubt you have your own opinions about many or all of these things.

When all of these truly difficult problems are thrown together with our sliding economy after a culmination of years of bad choices both by governments and individuals, well . . .

It is no wonder that people disagree. Even violently disagree. Yet, even with this understanding, and a legitimate desire to things from other perspectives, something happened several weeks ago that shocked me. I was talking with an older woman for whom I have enormous respect. She grew up during the Depression and is part of that "greatest generation" about whom we hear so much. She lived during the second great war and the upheaval of Communism and the Cold War. Her children came of age during the cultural revolution of the sixties and seventies. She saw the way the money made in the 80's and 90's spoiled her grandchildren, but also gave them opportunities she had never even dreamed possible at their age. Her life experience--politically, socially, historically and culturally is rich and full.

During a visit with her, the conversation drifted to politics (not my idea, believe it or not) and she became very angry when speaking about the current course of our government and commended with great fervor one of her children for being involved in a local "tea party." Her vitriol was aimed mostly at our current commander-in-chief, but also at Democrats in general. Though I don't remember hardly any specifics from her rant (was she specific?), she did say, "All this stuff going on lately, and all that they are talking about doing! It is no better than living in Nazi Germany!"

Um . . . .

Again, I have too much love and respect for this person to have even dreamed of contradicting her. But her words greatly disturbed me. Maybe in part because it isn't the first time, or from that single source, that I've heard such language.

I didn't post about this earlier because I didn't want this to turn into an I LOVE DEMOCRATS campaign platform, nor did I want it to be perceived as such. In fact, I think it is safe to say that I don't really like political parties at all. I like good ideas. I'm also the first to admit that what I see as a good idea might not at all match what you think is a good idea. Sometimes only time and perspective can judge whether an idea is good or bad; I think this is especially true in politics where new ideas might change things dramatically, but slowly. I guess I'm more of a wait and see person when it comes to government involvement in most things.

So why am I bringing this up at all, if it happened weeks ago and it was something I didn't intend to post about? I'm reading a book called Reading Lolita in Tehran. It is memoir written by a woman who left Iranian academia (she'd been a lit professor) when the Ayatollah's government just made it too oppressive to teach any longer. On the sly, she started a book group that met weekly over the course of a couple of years. They read only banned books. (And before you start thinking, well, what is the good of reading banned books???!!!??? Please note that one of the titles the group read was Pride and Prejudice. It is safe to say that the Iranian censors have a very strict standard of "acceptable.")

Reading Lolita is a good book, though a bit intellectual for my taste. These women read deeply and can create a whole morning's discussion out of a single obscure passage. I've been a lot more interested in the bits where the author describes the women's lives and how this little act of rebellion--this studying of literature--helped them cope with all they are dealing with. Glimpsing a world outside their own gave them to hope for a different future. Studying the diverse and strong women in the works helped them maintain their individuality. Instead of feeling like cogs in a machine to be acted on, the felt some measure of control over their own lives.

I read the following passage today and it prompted this post,

Gradually my life and family became part of the landscape . . . . one day my daughter, Negar, burst in crying . . . between tears [I] held her in my arms and tried to calm her. Gently I took off her navy scarf and robe; under the thick scarf her hair was damp with sweat. . . I asked her to tell us what had happened. That day in the middle of her last class, the principal and the morality teacher had barged in and told the girls to put their hands on their desks. The entire class had been escorted out of the classroom, without explanation, their school bags searched for weapons and contraband: tapes, novels, friendship bracelets. Their bodies were searched, their nails inspected. One student, a girl who had returned from the United States the previous year with her family, was taken to the principals' office; her nails were too long. There, the principal herself had cut the girl's nails, so close that she had drawn blood. Negar had seen her classmate after they were dismissed in the school yard, waiting to go home, nursing the guilty finger. The morality teacher stood beside her, discouraging other students from approaching. For Negar, the fact that she couldn't even go near and console her friend was as bad the the whole trauma of the search. She kept saying, "Mom, she just doesn't know about our rules and regulations; you know, she just came back from America--how do you think she feels when they force us to trample on the American flag and shout, Death to America? I hate myself, I hate myself, " she repeated as I rocked her back and forth and wiped the mixture of sweat and tears from her soft skin . . . . Everyone tried to distract Negar by joking and telling her stories of their own, how once Nassrin had been sent to the disciplinary committee to have her eyelashes checked. Her lashes were long, and she was suspected of using mascara. "That's nothing!" said Manna, "next to what happened to my sister's friends at the . . . .university. During lunch three of the girls were in the yard eating apples. They were reprimanded by the guards: they were biting their apples too seductively!"

I'm not sure what my older friend meant by our country starting to resemble Nazi Germany. Did she mean the government had begun to infiltrate too many aspects of our lives? (Interesting observation--not long ago she had a major surgery that would not have been possible without Medicare. Her ability to live alone would not be possible without her social security payments. The medicine she takes regularly for her various health issues would not be affordable without government subsidy.) Did she mean that taxes are too high? Though, truthfully, even if she paid taxes, they would be as low as at any time since the Depression. If she meant the cultural and political acceptability of homosexuality and other moral issues, then she can only be dead wrong: in Nazi Germany homosexuals were sent to concentration camps by the thousands, a purple triangle on their prison garb instead of a yellow star.

Next time you want to criticize the government, great! Criticize away. It is this dialogue that makes America great.

You hate high taxes? Wonderful! Write your Congressman without fear that your words will land you in prison.

You think a government-run health care plan is the equivalence of Communism? Fantastic! Say whatever you want about it on your blog without anxiety that website will be pulled and your name being put on a watch list.

Do you hate Obama? No worries! You can vilify him (even using racist language if you are so inclined) and as long as you don't make a direct threat, nobody can touch you.

But as you rant and rave, please consider two things, particularly if your criticism involves complaining about the government getting too involved in your life. First, the very fact that you can complain, criticize or even condemn any course of action pursued by the American government makes you a member of the most free society anywhere on earth. Not just at this time, but ever. And if you are a woman making these complaints, well, that makes you part of an even more elite group. Never have women, ever, in the history of the world, enjoyed the freedom that American women have now.

And secondly, say a silent prayer for our Iranian brothers and sisters who have shown this week that they too love liberty. There may not be enough of them yet to stand up and make a difference. It may be years yet before there is a critical mass who insists on their agency, even as imperfect as we all are, but the news this week out of Iran is heartening to freedom-loving people everywhere. America can never impose our democracy in the Middle East, but it doesn't mean that the people are incapable of choosing it for themselves. As we pass the 20th anniversary of Tiananmen Square and watch the Iranian riots unfold in stolen cell-phone transmissions, let us each take a moment to remember that it isn't just our own brave men and women who have died in the cause of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Democracy and agency can never be forced on a people. It must be chosen.

As we each chose our own path and allow others to do the same, let us not forget just how good we really have it. Go America!

I've Noticed

Oregon has three counties which rank in the top ten for greatest job loss in the last 12 months. If this statistic seems a bit obscure, let me clarify. Bend, #2 on said list, had 7.8% unemployment last year in March. This year it is 17%. My city, ranked fourth, has also lost nearly 10%, with the current rate being around 14%. This means that one in seven people in my county is out of work.

I've noticed that our city, already a veritable Mecca for homeless people, has panhandlers on every corner now.

I've noticed that more and more these people begging on the side of the road look like me--younger, better groomed, more nicely dressed. This must be the look of recent homelessness. There are also more women.

I've noticed that it is harder for charitable organizations to raise the money or goods they need, even as the numbers of those in need swell to record numbers.

I've noticed that a whole lot of trials are assaulting our nation all at once, and that years of plenty have made us forget that hard times must be prepared for.

I've noticed that there are dozens of houses for sale in my neighborhood: including my next door neighbor's which will have been on the market two years come May.

I've noticed my newspaper route steadly shrink over the last several months as older people on fixed incomes look for every possible way to save $12 a month. The newspapers are also thinner than they were a year ago as advertisers shrink their budgets too.

I've noticed that it's easy to find a parking space at the mall, even on a Saturday. Although soon this will be a moot point--so many stores have shut their doors in recent months that there is little reason to even go to the mall. The parking lot at the Goodwill, however, is packed even in the middle of the day on a Tuesday.

But for all of these things I've noticed that tell me people are in trouble all over, there are a lot of other things to notice that tell me there is still reason to rejoice.

I've noticed that gardening, already popular here, has become the norm for many families as people tear up their grass to grow food. Homemaking skills--cooking, sewing, canning, knitting, etc. are suddenly very chic.

I've noticed that people are a little bit kinder to one another and actually listen when troubles are shared. There is an unspoken recognition that as the economy continues shrinking more and more jobs will be shed. Anybody's fortunes can turn on a dime.

I've (finally) noticed that the selling of the house we hung on to for 8 months after we left Texas was a huge blessing. If even a couple of more months had passed we would have likely been in foreclosure. And if we hadn't felt inspired to move that year, we probably would have never sold the house. Learning from our own housing market troubles has given me enormous empathy for those who don't hear the word "equity" without placing the word "negative" in front of it.

I've noticed that the lilacs and cherry trees bloomed this week despite all of the troubling news from around the world. I had forgotten how mesmerizing and lovely it is when the spring breeze blows the old blossom petals to the ground, creating swirling pink drifts on the sidewalks and gutters. These simple, beautiful things are more prominent in my mind than in years past.

I've noticed that my food storage is growing and for the first time in my adult life I feel like I am doing all I can to live in compliance with directives about provident living.

I've noticed that our debt to income ratio is continually shrinking and there is real peace of mind over the ease at which we meet our obligations each month.

I've noticed that so much of what I thought mattered a decade ago is all dross compared to what really matters.

Our newspaper here is very liberal. It isn't uncommon for a picture of lesbians embracing or an alternatively life-styled family to show up on the front page. One of the cover stories today, in fact, was about our mayor's endorsement of medical marijuana. But the main picture, in full color, was of a jobless African-American woman. In bold, black lettering next to her face was her quote, "I've got to pray, like everyone else. As Americans we've got to ride the wave."

The second part of her sentiment is the bald-faced American optimism that makes this country great. And if the first part is true about the "everyone else," then I think we are going to be okay. So today, I'm going to pray for God to watch out for those who, through little fault of their own, have found themselves victims of difficult circumstances. I'm going to pray that those who want to work will find jobs, and that those who DON'T want to work will find joy in succeeding through their best efforts. I'm going to pray that our leaders will have the wisdom to make the most informed, compassionate and forward-looking policies that they can, regardless of their political party. I'm going to pray for my heart to be more open and generous so that when we do have a little bit of extra we can give more help. I'm going to pray that I'll recognize the difference in my wants and needs so that there IS a little bit of extra that can be used to help others.

In short, I'm going to "pray like everyone else."

Will you join me?

Peter Pan

Lest you were thinking otherwise, we have now determined that the baby has no magical powers of flight, nor has he mastered any Jedi tricks involving levitation.

For about three minutes after dinner last night, all three of my boys sat on the floor with a blanket over their feet watching President Obama's speech. I've promised Slim that I'll be less effusive with my Obama-praise, which is a good thing, but I will say today that I really like how in control and in charge he seems. Whether you agree with his ideas or not, I think it is really hard to question his sincerity or his intensity. I was moved to tears when he announced the volunteerism bill jointly sponsored by Senators Hatch and Kennedy. These men, with their intense and genuine friendship have truly exemplified that to disagree does not mean to be disagreeable. Little Jedi looked up at me and said, "Mom, I'm wondering, what can I do for my country?" Wow. Can America fail if there are children like him? Like yours? Like that determined little gal who stood next to Michelle Obama and took the praise of a nation for her plea not to be given up on? I think not.

But I digress: we were discussing the Youngling's weakness for gravity.

When the three minutes of sitting quietly were up (which might actually be some kind of record), the big boys ran off down the hall on some rendezvous with a sword fight. Youngling followed, squealing, because he wants to be just like them. There was a fair amount of noise coming from their 11 x 11 bedroom which contains a crib, a set of twin bunk beds, a fairly large dresser, a basket for balls, a beanbag that has evolved into the naughty chair and a small trash can. It gets crowded and crazy when they are all in there together, but that pretty much describes my whole life.

I figured that Youngling was climbing up and down the bunk bed ladder, which he taught himself to do last week. (Last Wednesday I walked in the bedroom, scenting out the baby to change his diaper, only to see him sitting on the top bunk with a smug smile that threatened to split his mischievous little face. I asked Padawan how long Youngling had been able to do this and could he get back down? The answers were "For a couple of days" and "Sure!") I've seen him go up and down the ladder several times and saw that he really was proficient: just because my heart nearly stops every time I see him do it doesn't mean he isn't capable, right?

Further, when he sits on the top bunk, he just sits. Or he pretends to sleep after begging for someone to throw his blanket up there. Or he bounces on his padded little tushy. He acts like he is very aware of how high he is. Until last night, it seemed apparent that his new skill was much more about the journey than the destination.

Five minutes before the end of Mr. Obama's speech, there was a lot of extremely loud screaming that erupted all at once from the bedroom, followed by much running down the hall as I jumped off the couch. Youngling had not slipped coming or going on the ladder, nor had he accidentally fallen off the top: by all reports (by which I mean TWO, one from a 4 year old, the other from a 7 year old, so who really knows?) the Youngling deliberately stepped off the railing onto the floor and belly flopped on the carpet.

Before I knew the details, however, I only heard the screaming and so I completely disregarded all of my mediocre first-aidy skills. I did not ascertain if he had fallen on his head. I did not check for broken bones before I moved him. I did not clear the space. I did not order any one to call 9-1-1.

I picked up my dear baby who was crying harder than I have ever heard him cry. His wails were cat-like and high, just like a newborn's. Very scary. It took nearly fifteen minutes of walking and rocking to finally calm him down, and then when we did he was unnaturally still. He lay on my shoulder, hardly blinking, and then sat on my bed sucking his thumb and acting properly dazed. Plantboy said the two most horrible words for a mother, "Emergency room," but I just shook my head and insisted that it didn't do me any good to have two nurses (mom and sister) and a doctor (brother) in the family if I couldn't get some feedback about concussions and internal bleeding before rushing into the emergency room.

It turned out to be my dad who was able to give me the best concussion information. It seems that he was once clocked with a baseball bat. I get waves of nausea just thinking about it. And sis was the fount of knowledge about internal bleeding--incredible pain and puking up blood. Lovely.

The baby perked up by bedtime and seemed mostly back to his normal self, if a little bit resentful. His way of telling me about an injury (real or otherwise) is to point at the thing or person that hurt him and scream, then touch the injured part and make a hilariously pained face. Last night he kept pointing at the bunk beds, keeping them at a safe distance from himself in the other room, and jabbering a whole string of what I can only guess were profanities.

Anyway, I pushed, stretched, poked, wiggled, and prodded him all over and he seems to be doing fine, other than a little bit of resentment over how much of his personal space I chose to invade. Mothers can be so annoying like that. I wonder how he is going to take it when he finds the bunk bed ladder in the garage. . . .

I'm Starting to Hate the Word "Historic"

I've noticed over the last several years at General Conference, that the word "historic" is bandied about in a way that has me saying, "I do not think it means what you think it means." 150 years since the Saints entered the valley--historic. Oh, we built a behemoth conference center--historic. Oh, conference coincided with Easter, again--historic. Oh, we are remodeling the tabernacle--historic. Oh, there is a new apostle--historic. Oh, we are back in the Tabernacle--historic. Oh, so-and-so is the oldest living apostle born in the 20th century who is a sixth generation member at a conference falling precisely two weeks after the autumn equinox--historic. After all, if we say that every conference is remarkable or extraordinary or special then maybe what we are really saying is that none of them are?

Just an opinion.

The political frenzy of the last two years did not plateau in November. A woman garnering more primary votes than any defeated candidate ever--historic. Oh, and a woman from ALASKA on the ballot--historic. Oh, there is a white male on the ballot, wait, not historic; what was that? you said that he's the oldest man EVER to get on the ballot?--historic! Oh, and man from Hawaii on the. . . .wait, he's also Black! And biracial! And his middle name is Hussein--historic!

Every story in the first three pages of my newspaper this morning was about Obama. The pundits and reporters and bloggers and everybody who thinks their opinion is worth two shakes has foamed at the mouth in recent days about the import of what will happen tomorrow.

As fantastic as tomorrow will be, and indeed a day (or at least a very narrow window of time) that historians will point to the great change that took place in our country (historic!), I would argue that the real change, the truly remarkable thing, is not a single event or election or even a man.

Forty-six and a half years ago, a young Black preacher stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and called America to task for its failed promise, particularly to people of Color, but also to women and the poor. He told of his dream that his children would one day be judged for the content of their character and not the color of their skin. Barack Obama was two years old when this speech was given. I wonder what his mother and grandparents thought?

No doubt, the election was historic. Our economic times are historic. The war situation is historic. The inaugural speech will be historic. The money spent on the parties tomorrow will be historic.

But greater than history is the miracle that took place in the minds and the hearts of the people from 1963 to 2008. It took 45 years, but maybe, just maybe we have come to a place where we look a little bit more carefully on a man's heart because we have taken the time to try to listen and understand. It is no doubt that our modern world is an era of great wickedness, but it is also a time of great goodness. Remember when the Berlin Wall fell? It seemed to have happened all at once, almost overnight, but the reality is that the hearts and minds of the people had been building to the event for years. The same thing has happened in America. But the lesson of Eastern Europe is a powerful reminder for us as well: the work of bridging the divide between peoples of all colors and creeds is not at an end. Like the tearing down of that wall, this "historic" election is just a symbol of all that we've accomplished, and all that must still be done.

In the book of Exodus, we read of Moses' great leadership and journey. But the Israelites wandered a long time before entering the Promised Land. The Lord waited, at least in part, for many in the old generation--the generation who had known nothing but Egypt--to die. It was the younger generation who received the miracle.

It is hard for me to read MLK's writings and not believe that he was a prophet of sorts: no blasphemy meant here, of course, but when you listen to the last, spontaneous, minutes of his "I Have a Dream" speech you know that he was given the words to say by a higher power. And, he, with his great faith, would likely be the first to agree. He led America to the edge of the promised land and showed them what might be theirs. Forty-five years have passed. Maybe it will be up to our generation to enter this sacred place.

Looking for a Little Hope

Between the rain we've had all week and the time change, it has been getting dark by about 4:30 here. So I've been looking for a little bright spot.

And I've found it in a big way.

No, I don't just mean Barack Obama being elected. Though, I must say that I had waited a long time to vote for him: probably since I first read about him in the Spring of 2004. So, despite all that is hard about this new world we have found ourselves in during recent months, I would like to now give here my reasons for hope:

* A dignified and gracious concession speech from a man who is a great American patriot and will continue to serve as a voice of balance and careful compromise in the US Senate.
* The non-realization of the so-called Bradley Effect, indicating that there are probably fewer "closet racists" in the country than most of us assume.
* Nem's post from yesterday has made me feel liberated about believing strongly that I can be a faithful Latter-day Saint and still subscribe to much of the philosophy found in the Democratic party.
* A dignified and gracious acceptance speech from a man who made little effort to boost his own merits but instead pledged to work on behalf of every American, regardless of how they voted.
* An election decided, decisively, within a few hours instead of days or months so that our new president will take office without a cloud over his head and with a mandate to govern.
*Nearly 120 million Americans showed up to be counted yesterday. Votes DO matter.
* A president-elect who is practically in my generation who is smart, calm and forward-thinking.
* A renewed determination to do my best to be a responsible citizen and to raise my children to be the same.
* Church leaders who remain optimistic about the opportunities to be found in the very trials that are knocking at the door.

It is the opportunity of our generation to remake our country. The more I meet and interact with the bright, committed men and women who are young parents now, the more I believe that we can make the world a better place.

We The People

At 8am on November first I should be posting pictures from our fun Halloween times last night, but Plantboy went out of town yesterday afternoon, and in my rush to make it to Tabula Rasa's Halloween Party I remembered everything but the camera. We had fun: the kids will just have to wear the same costumes next year to get the memories for posterity. Yeah, yeah, I can dress them up today, but October is so yesterday and I'm just not in the mood.

Instead, I'll turn to giving a PSA announcement. When I opened my email this morning, I answered a survey from my on-line bank, where I manage my tiny, but growing, savings accounts. (ING Direct, which I love by the way.) After the survey, they took me to this page. I like this idea of a grassroots "We the Savers" movement. Imagine that, our church leaders and grandparents have been telling us the truth all along about paying as we go.

Now, switching gears a bit, I was reading an article a couple of weeks ago about the history of the balloting system here in the United States. It was fascinating. I am continually amazed that our democracy has survived at all. My favorite part was the following paragraph:

"On Election Day this November, I’ll walk around the corner to vote in the basement gymnasium of a neighborhood elementary school, beneath a pair of basketball hoops. At a table just inside the gym, a precinct volunteer will hand me a piece of white paper about the size and weight of a file folder. I’ll enter a booth built on a frame of aluminum poles, tug shut behind me a red-white-and-blue striped curtain, and, with a black marker tied to a string, I’ll mark my ballot, awed, as always, by the gravity, the sovereignty, of the moment. With the stroke of a pen, we, mere citizens, become We the People."

A couple of weeks ago my mother-in-law and I had a conversation about voting. She talked about how there was sense of community solidarity about going and standing peaceably in line with people who would cast their ballots differently than yours. About standing shoulder to shoulder with men and women whose fundamental ideals of government and life disagree sharply with yours. And yet, there we stand, ready to make our voices heard, whatever we have to say. I think she is right, for all of the convenience I had of voting by mail earlier this week, there is something sacrificial and declaratory about standing at the polling place.

And America's greatness is that in January, whoever is elected, will assume the post of commander-in-chief with dignity and grace and a look to the future. Even in the year 2000, in the middle of great controversy and national division, even anger, all proceded according to the rule of law. Over the past several months, we have shared many opinions on our blogs. I feel like I have grown and learned much this year through the associations of intelligent, spiritual women. How can our nation be anything but blessed when such women are the next generation of mothers? Let us stand together on Tuesday, at least united in a desire to help shape a world in which our children can reach their potential. Vote. Please vote.

My Favorite Part

Okay, I had FOUR favorite parts. Here is the first:

"For over two decades, he's (John McCain) subscribed to that old, discredited Republican philosophy - give more and more to those with the most and hope that prosperity trickles down to everyone else. In Washington, they call this the Ownership Society, but what it really means is - you're on your own. Out of work? Tough luck. You're on your own. No health care? The market will fix it. You're on your own. Born into poverty? Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps - even if you don't have boots. You're on your own."

Then this came just before he outlined specific policies.

"Ours is a promise that says government cannot solve all our problems, but what it should do is that which we cannot do for ourselves - protect us from harm and provide every child a decent education; keep our water clean and our toys safe; invest in new schools and new roads and new science and technology.

"Our government should work for us, not against us. It should help us, not hurt us. It should ensure opportunity not just for those with the most money and influence, but for every American who's willing to work.

"That's the promise of America - the idea that we are responsible for ourselves, but that we also rise or fall as one nation; the fundamental belief that I am my brother's keeper; I am my sister's keeper."

Then he brought up this point that I think is so powerful, and something I've believed in for a long time, particularly when differences of opinion cause family members or friends to worry about my salvation or my sanity.

"In the weeks ahead, I look forward to debating with John McCain. But what I will not do is suggest that the Senator takes his positions for political purposes. Because one of the things that we have to change in our politics is the idea that people cannot disagree without challenging each other's character and patriotism.

"The times are too serious, the stakes are too high for this same partisan playbook. So let us agree that patriotism has no party. I love this country, and so do you, and so does John McCain. The men and women who serve in our battlefields may be Democrats and Republicans and Independents, but they have fought together and bled together and some died together under the same proud flag. They have not served a Red America or a Blue America - they have served the United States of America."

But the end. Oh, the end. He made reference to one of the greatest speeches ever from 45 years ago yesterday. He is the living embodiment of America's promise finally being realized. His body language was like that of a preacher and he lifted that crowd in a way that one orator in a generation might have the gift to do. When it was over, Plantboy said, a bit tongue in cheek, "Where to I get baptised?" The conservative pundits will make much over the next several weeks about how he knows nothing of the middle class, forgetting where Mr. Obama came from and how his parents sacrificed so that he might know the American dream; isn't this the same dream we have for our kids? They will talk about the expense of his sweeping ideas, casually overlooking the billions spent in Iraq that have done little to secure our country. They will say that he is just another liberal who wants to tax and spend, ignoring his core belief that all men and women who are able should work, and that no government program can substitute for a father in the home. But mostly, they will say that he is "just" words. Just words? JUST words? But such words . . . .

"This country of ours has more wealth than any nation, but that's not what makes us rich. We have the most powerful military on Earth, but that's not what makes us strong. Our universities and our culture are the envy of the world, but that's not what keeps the world coming to our shores.

"Instead, it is that American spirit - that American promise - that pushes us forward even when the path is uncertain; that binds us together in spite of our differences; that makes us fix our eye not on what is seen, but what is unseen, that better place around the bend.

"That promise is our greatest inheritance. It's a promise I make to my daughters when I tuck them in at night, and a promise that you make to yours - a promise that has led immigrants to cross oceans and pioneers to travel west; a promise that led workers to picket lines, and women to reach for the ballot.

"And it is that promise that forty five years ago today, brought Americans from every corner of this land to stand together on a Mall in Washington, before Lincoln's Memorial, and hear a young preacher from Georgia speak of his dream.

"The men and women who gathered there could've heard many things. They could've heard words of anger and discord. They could've been told to succumb to the fear and frustration of so many dreams deferred.

"But what the people heard instead - people of every creed and color, from every walk of life - is that in America, our destiny is inextricably linked. That together, our dreams can be one.

"'We cannot walk alone,'" the preacher cried. "'And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.'

"America, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many children to educate, and so many veterans to care for. Not with an economy to fix and cities to rebuild and farms to save. Not with so many families to protect and so many lives to mend. America, we cannot turn back. We cannot walk alone. At this moment, in this election, we must pledge once more to march into the future. Let us keep that promise - that American promise - and in the words of Scripture hold firmly, without wavering, to the hope that we confess.

Thank you, God Bless you, and God Bless the United States of America."

God. Bless. America.

A Comment on My Last Post that Became Too Long So Now It Is a Post of its Own

That is a very ugly title, but it is the truth, so here goes.

I really didn't mean for the last post to deteriorate into a political diatribe with some ugly-ish comments. Satire, people. Satire. No, I did NOT say George Bush was pure evil, nor have I actually heard anybody say that for real, on television or otherwise. I really meant the post to be a nod to our Dear Leader and a "Go Olympics!" happy good feeling.

So, with the attitude of explaining myself and with no thought that I'll be able to keep the lid on the can of worms, here goes . . .

I think I'm to the point where "trust" when it comes to politicians is not always a very helpful designation. Even some of our "greatest" politicians have not necessarily been trustworthy. I'm not trying to say that character doesn't matter at all, and I have said all along that I believed George Bush to be a pretty nice guy, a basically moral guy, but I don't think that qualifies him to be the leader of the free world. I think President Bush has shown a shocking lack of judgment when it comes to whom HE trusts. I think that he has surrounded himself with people who have their own agendas for whatever reason. Anecdotes from really intense investigative reporting (NOT pundits on TV, Brandon) illustrate that key people in his first administration were looking for any excuse to get embroiled in Iraq. Men who preyed on American emotions after 9/11 as a means to . . . I don't know, profit? It can't really be said that they meant to secure us. If they had, wouldn't there have been a long term plan in place? But there NEVER was.

I know it is popular right now for ex-administration people to profit from selling expose pieces from their time on the inside, as is pretty typical after a president has been in office some time. It can even be argued that to do so is rather cowardly--a bit like kicking somebody when they are already down. But does anybody else find it disturbing that there are so many of these? And that what they reveal is so shocking?

The system of checks and balances was put into place to prevent any one branch of government from becoming more powerful than the others. By declaring a state of war, the current administration has circumvented a lot of laws put into place by Congress and upheld by the Supreme Court to make sure that power was not concentrated or abused. Now, if there are irregularities, it is always chalked up to war time or sensitive matters. I absolutely agree that the public cannot know everything that goes on--there is a lot of sensitive information. But I don't think doctoring EPA reports on the state of climate change with recommendations for reducing greenhouse gasses is the equivalent of a national security issue. That is all about getting elected in the mid west where they build cars and grow corn.

I think the Bush administration squandered its best opportunities--to fight a successful war in Afghanistan; to build on the worldwide sympathy the world felt for the US in the wake of the 9/11 attacks and build strong diplomatic coalitions; to improve border security and work on Bush's moderate immigration policy; to use their initial Republican majority to pass laws regarding market (partial) solutions to carbon emissions and health care; used government contracts to invest in nuclear power instead of government contracts to pump billions of dollars overseas where there is no oversight; to maintain tax levels, or at least keep some in place, to keep reducing the deficit and to fund the Afghan war; to ensure that the No Child Left Behind legislation was actually good legislation . . . In short, the vast majority of Republicans in this country in the early part of this century could have gotten behind Bush's pledged inaugural promise of "compassionate conservatism." None of the things I've said here are incompatible with Republican goals or ideals. And they would have all been very good for America.

Instead, they wanted their cake and to eat it to. Republicans slashed taxes for the wealthiest Americans, with major tax breaks to banks and oil companies to name a few, while simultaneously running our country's economy into the tank with the most expensive war ever fought. Yes, people need to take responsibility, and yes, people need to be smarter, but when the public is given the message over and over again that the government can spend as much as it wants with no consequences, then why should it be any different for the people? When people are told that to spend more money and to start more wars makes you a better patriot, how can such a government be following righteous principles regardless of their stance on marriage and abortion? When Bush said to the world "if you are not with us you are against us," he effectively said to every American: if you don't sign off on MY policy, then you are no better than a terrorist. When was this attitude ever a part of the democratic process?

I don't think people are really voting for Barack Obama (Slick's point about politicians not to be trusted is very valid), I think they are voting for anything different. John McCain's nomination proves that. So what has he done with the people's trust? He has retreated from every smart, centrist opinion he's carried over the last decade to kowtow to a group of people who are, I'm sorry to say, in the minority.

There are two issues, TWO, that largely determine how evangelical Christians vote: abortion and gay marriage. Well, heck yeah, I feel strongly about these two issues too, but I don't feel strongly enough to abandon every other thing that matters also. History is replete with examples of governments trying to legislate morality. As noble as it may be, it NEVER works. And, lets be honest, laws against abortion, amendments about defining marriage, these things will not stop people from killing the innocent. These things will not stop people from engaging in homosexual acts and fornication.

Now you can say whatever you want. And I'll try really hard to listen and learn.

Go Ahead, Thank Me for Sparing You the Complete Travel Log

As the Law of Conservation of Film doesn't apply to digital cameras, I took well over 200 pictures in Washington DC. I'll spare you the agony of ruffling through all of them (half of which are repeats and only half of those are really worth keeping), or even having to view them for the next several months on some sort of ongoing slide show on my sidebar.

However, I cannot completely overlook six wonderful days spent with only myself to look after and no bums to wipe, so this will be a DC post, though I'm hoping it doesn't deteriorate to a mere travel log of events. Yankee Girl's side bar says with her typical wry humor, "this blog does have narrow focus--it is all about me!" The same could easily be said here, but I hope this post does a little bit more than that. I want it to illustrate lessons learned from the journey, both literally and figuratively. And a few pictures.

As mentioned in the pre-DC post, my brother and his wife had led a pretty sheltered Utah-life when they moved to DC almost four years ago. Saturday night, I put my arm through hers as we walked the length of the Reflecting Pool on the way to the WWII monument. The moon was nearly full and it was possible to see a few stars, even with the bright city lights. I knew Shay had mixed emotions as she prepared to leave DC and I asked her if she was holding up okay. She said yes, but was quiet for several moments. Knowing that it takes my sister-in-law just a minute to find exactly the right words, I was quiet. She said, "You know, it isn't just that we've seen a lot of cool stuff since we've lived here." She gathered her thoughts again for a moment, "It is that living here as formed who Eric and I are as adults. Our whole world view is different."














I nodded, understanding perfectly what she meant. The places I've lived have likewise helped form my adult self--it isn't just what you see, it is who you've become.

Because self is constantly evolving, I would like to echo Shay's sentiments here and talk about some of the things I learned from my latest trip to DC. Because as much as I love monuments, museums, art galleries, relaxing and shopping, travel is more than all of this. I think its great value lies in the lessons taught when we immerse ourselves in things we've never seen before, when we try to think about things from other prespectives and see things for a moment as others see them.

So here are my travel insights. No doubt, your own visits to DC have taught you other things. Feel free to comment:

1) Can there be anything more sickening than the shoes, particularly the tiny shoes, in a large pile at the Holocaust Museum? I did not visit this venue last time I was in DC, and I was really grateful that I didn't pass it up a second time. I spent two hours in a haze of realization beyond anything I've ever learned about this "final solution" master-minded by a totalitarian government. While there, I imagined a young mother with three children and her strong husband, leaving behind every worldly posession but a small carpet-bag and the clothes on their backs. They are crammed into a box car with scores of families. On the journey, her children cry out in hunger and fear--it is dark and they are given nothing to eat or drink. They know they are headed east, someplace cold, and so the mother had insisted that each of her children were well-bundled, but these clothes become a terrible liability as the heat climbs and there is no way to catch a breath, or room to remove clothing. If her family of five manages to survive to the death camp, she and her darling, beloved little children will be sent one way, and her husband another. We know what happens next.















What constantly amazes me is that nobody in the chain of command said, "Wait! Enough is enough! People cannot be treated this way!" 2/3 of Europe's Jews wiped out in a handful of years, with a resistance so weak as to be almost negligible. The exhibit's final section is about the rescuers--both those who came in at the end of the war and closed the camps and those who helped in "small" ways during the war--but the blame heaped on the German people, a Fascist government, appeasing neighbors, governments unwilling to expand refugee quotas and individuals is apparent. And, I think, deserved.

It is easy to look back and say, "Why didn't the US do . . . ?" Insert just about anything you like into the elipse. It is probably a worthy question. But to the people of the time, the political questions were just as complicated as those bandied about daily by heads of state in regards to Kosovo, Rwanda, Darfur, Afghanistan, Kurdistan, Myanmar, North Korea and any other place where human rights are violated regularly and viciously. Germany's descent to the hellish nightmare it became in the 1930's and 1940's started with the suspension of basic rights for all Germans and the burning of books that allowed any room for dissent. Targeting homosexuals, the disabled, Jews, Blacks and other minority groups became easy once any voice of argument was strangled. I hope that history will not judge us as harshly as the groupthink rationale that allowed the Holocaust, but I have my doubts.

And, my fellow Latter-day Saints, lest we get too complacent about genocide, let's not forget how few generations our own people are from an extermination order. If there are any people who should reach out to those in desperate circumstances, it should be us. There are no easy answers here--the lessons of large scale intervention have their own history that is just as harsh as doing nothing.






















2) Last week I paid my first visit to the Library of Congress. The exhibit on Thomas Jefferson's library is amazing. As I looked at his books I was literally awestruck. I love the words of the Declaration, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain, inalienable rights . . . " I believe firmly that men and women are inspired to do and say great things, but I think that this inspiration is easier to give to the mind and spirit that has been prepared for it. The soul of Thomas Jefferson lives on in those books, though his spirit has long departed and the worms have eaten his body.























3) I didn't notice last time I was at the Lincoln Memorial the simple phrase "I have a dream" engraved in the center steps, in perfect alignment with Lincoln, Washington's monument and the Capitol Building. On that great August day in 1963, Dr. King challenged America to make good on Thomas Jefferson's "promissary note" found in the Declaration of Independence. We are so blessed to live in a country that, for all of its problems, at the very least was founded on the principle that all men are created equal. Lincoln was right--it is better for us to live together and compromise about our many issues than to fraction ourselves off every time we disagree. America is indeed the great democratic experiment: subject to testing and re-testing every generation or so. I feel like our time of testing is now. The Lord always promised that the righteous would be delivered to this land and then subject to the condition of remembrance: remembrance of forefathers, faith, God and true patriotism. Without remembrance, only pride in our own abilities is left. For all of our powerful belief in self-determination, make no mistake that divided we will fall.























4)As Eric graduated from GW, I was so impressed. He, and his wife, have worked so hard. I was struck as I watched those 130+ graduates of varying ages, colors, cultures and sexes walk across the stage that some of America's best and brightest were on display. This group, and other groups like them, will help determine the future of health care in this country. (Indeed, their visiting guest-speaker talked to this very issue, which my mother sniffed at as being way too political.) I feel in my bones that change is in the air. I haven't yet decided if that will be a good or a bad thing. I guess that depends entirely on how willing people are to be committed to principles instead of simply to policy.















5) My reading of choice on the trip was "The Fire of the Covenant." I learned I had an ancestor in the Martin Handcart company. It was a moving book to read in the middle of a city where it is impossible not to think about the sacrifices of so many who've gone before me. I think my late night reading was as profound as the day time sites.

Still, family is family and just being with my sibs for a few days was a great part of the journey too. My brother may be a doctor, but he is definitely not above wearing his doctoral hood as an actual hood and re-enacting the final scenes of Return of the Jedi. Or pretending to stand in a Depression Era unemployment line. We were also not above asking Daddy to pay when we ate at a fancy restaraunt after graduation. And what is a family outing on a blustery, sunny day if mom doesn't impersonate the unibomber at least once. Amanda and I worked it with the concierge to get a free movie in our room (on the premise that our stay was not all it could be because the hot tub was broken). National Treasure: Book of Secrets, of course. Amanda and I also rented 27 Dresses on the plane ride home. I think the guy sitting next to us was ready to kill the two of us. My older brother was so sick of my sister and I by day 6, that I'm sure he just went home and hugged his wife for 30 minutes straight.

And while we reverted back to our "typical" family roles for a few days, there is something really refreshing about being with the people who best know your quirks because they share a lot of them. Still, I was very glad to get back to the home I've actually chosen, grateful in every way for where I have come from and where I'm headed.

Teachers

I've just read another story this morning about a couple of teachers doing something stupid in front of students. I say "another" because I can't believe how many of these I've read recently. It seems FoxNews would have the public think that teachers are little more than violent, uncontrolled pedophiles preying on our children.

And while it might be obvious to point out that these teachers are the exception rather than the rule, there is still painfully little good press for public schools these days. In case you haven't heard the latest funding debacle, Governor Swcharnegger's balanced budget plan for California next year includes pink slips to 20% of the teachers (not administrators) currently employed in the school system. I'm sure that will do a lot for classroom size, student management and learning.

School is getting to be a harder and harder environment to work in all the time. Granted, school has always been a place where kids assert a degree of independence and, particularly as they get older, spend a fair amount of time unsupervised. I had an acquaintance tell me the other day that she'd heard in the last 10 years or so that our public schools are turning out dumber and dumber kids every year. She cited some random statistic (you know, 90% of statistics are made up on the spot), and sounded very authoritative. I've thought about her remarks the last few days. As a person who has, and will again, make her living by teaching public school and who will send my children to public school, I feel a very personal stake in how it all works out.

Schools do need work, and though throwing money at a problem won't solve it, correctly applied money could do a lot--better equipment; technology that allows teachers to communicate quickly, effectively and transparently with home; clean, well-lit buildings; a student-teacher ratio that doesn't exceed 25:1 (and much less before 3rd grade); assessments not merely based on testing; revamped and respected vocational programs in high schools . . . .

I could go on, but I won't. I think that any one of you could look at your child's public school and see a place where improvement is needed. In fact, schools that function the best are schools that have a lot of local control with a powerful community of parents, administrators and teachers pulling for common goals. In my mind, this control is why charter and private schools have gained so much ground in recent years. As they are not tied to federal funding, and therefore the accountability standards of No Child Left Behind, the schools are run as the community sees fit, not as bureaucrats in Washington mandate.

The elephant in the room that nobody is talking about is classroom management. Oh, the discussion on out-of-control classrooms is masked under more funding for "teacher training," but it doesn't address the heart of the issue. College (particularly for science and math teachers) is already rigorous and certification requirements are getting worse and worse all the time. What teachers are unprepared for when they walk in the door to the classroom is the chaos that often awaits there. And while the best teachers know the fine art of classroom management (a skill almost impossible to acquire if you don't have a feel for it) and can keep a classroom in line, there are far too many kids coming to school socially unprepared for the school experience because their homes have set them up to fail long before their school careers begin.

Let me explain:

Children who spend hours a day watching television--particularly television filled with commercials and programming only valuable as entertainment--will have a very difficult time concentrating in school, even if they have no disorder to speak of. School will not be funny enough, exciting enough or instantly gratifying enough to compare to the lives of the people they see on TV. And don't even get me started on the sex: even during commercials for programs (usually sports) that have NOTHING to do with sex.

Children who watch any kind of programming where adults are treated with a great degree of sarcasm, sassiness and disrespect will interact with the greater world this way, thinking it is appropriate. Or if not appropriate, at least hilarious to their peers, and sometimes all they are looking for is a laugh.

If your son or daughter takes a cell phone to school then they are more likely to cheat on tests, pass texty notes during class and be in violation of school policies. I believe kids are losing the ability to concentrate on and follow the nuances of a face to face conversation because of cell phone use and text messaging. I currently tutor a student who thinks nothing of listening to music, IM-ing on her computer, texting on her phone, surfing the web and watching television all AT THE SAME TIME. But to ask her to concentrate on her science for 15 minutes? It is like pulling teeth. She is impatient and antsy. She is also 100 pounds (at least) overweight. She is 13. What kind of a future does a child like this have, even though she is generally very sweet?

Dress codes are nearly impossible to enforce when parents allow their children to leave that morning wearing tight or revealing clothes. As for the boys? Their own tee-shirts now are riddled with suggestive and disrespectful sayings. Even young boys. These things are so detracting from a learning environment that even the best management makes it difficult to keep a class of hormonal teenagers in line.

If you have allowed your children to be in charge entirely at your house--calling their own shots about bedtime, what kind of groceries you buy, no consequences for naughty behavior, etc. then they are likely to be sassy, temperamental and argumentative at school.

If a normal child (meaning no disease or disorder) under the age of 14 or 15 is morbidly overweight, that is almost always a parenting failure. Kids this overweight have health problems that keep them from full participation at school, sleep apnea that affects their brain development and social issues that can dog them for life.

Kids who are never required to be still, play by themselves, or focus on a task for more than a minute or two will find school boring. On the other hand, kids who have been read to frequently and taught that hard work is a joy, will begin to understand the long term benefits of daily attendance at school.

Lax parents often complain of teachers not being kind enough to or forgiving enough of their slacker children. I agree that teachers need to treat children with respect, kindness and even charity. But I don't agree that teachers should dismiss rude behavior or lower their expectations because a child's home is run that way. How forgiving do these parents think cops, judges and bosses will be? Particularly in this age of VAST amounts of information, school has to do far more than just teach information (they can never teach enough), they are attempting to teach young people to function in a social framework, which, love it or leave it, involves conformity to appropriate social norms.

If you think your child is lazy at school because he is brilliant--you are probably wrong. I have had many parents give me this excuse over the years when the truth was that junior could hardly tie his shoelaces without a diagram and someone to hold his hand (I'm not talking about kindergartners here). In the last ten years I've worked with probably 1000 students (a small sample compared to more veteran teachers), but I can only think of one or two students that I thought fit the "brilliant so I misbehave/tune out" scenario. Chances are, your kid is just pretty average like most other kids. Sure, he is the world to you and you see his gifts in a way that others don't, but just make sure you are honest about his limitations too. Others will be. And don't expect your child's teacher to treat her as the most special kid in the room. Each child is worth more focus than they can reasonably get at school. It is YOUR job to give the kind of attention your child needs, not her teacher. Even the very best teachers are frustrated by the logistical demands of trying to help each child as much as they need helped.

Even a few years ago (when I first started teaching in the late 90's), a teacher in an average school might have a handful of kids in a classroom of 30 that were difficult. This could mostly be dealt with by seating charts and teacher proximity. But when a teacher with 35 students and 33 desks has ten or fifteen students with classroom behavior issues, it becomes nearly impossible to keep problem students separate from one another.

A generation of children is being raised up with too few checks on their behavior. The best parenting advice I ever got was from my mom when she said, "Somebody is going to be in charge at your house. It may as well be you: you are the grown-up." Yes, public schools need to be smaller, better equipped and staffed with better trained teachers, but they need to be attended by children who have been taught to respect adults, concentrate on tasks that are difficult and understand that there is a real difference between public and private behavior.

I am a great believer in a (relatively) free public education for every child: I think it is at the heart of any democratic society. But if our homes are failing, then our schools cannot succeed.