Just Don’t Feel Guilty?
While eating lunch, I could hear the people at a nearby table talking about how to get around some rules. I wasn’t eavesdropping, it’s just that the gist of their conversation could be heard by anyone within earshot, whether we liked it or not. One man’s statement eventually rose above the din. He said, “And don’t feel guilty, because everybody does it!”
Asking Inmates Who’s To Blame
A friend and I were walking by the Sheriff’s Office, re-hashing how the acceptance of personal responsibility actually gives us control over and ownership of our own lives. Although we now seem to have a large contingent of “perennial victims” in our culture, I believe most people still want to be the Captains of their Ships.
As we passed the Sheriff’s parking lot, I noticed a group of jail trustees, sitting on some benches. I said I would bet that, if asked how they got into their present pickle, they would admit it was of their own doing. Offenders tend to do that, when the Court process is over and they have nothing to gain or lose by speaking their minds. So I walked over to them, and began a conversation.
Why the Movies and I Broke Up
During the past 50 years movies have really changed, but I haven’t kept pace. Mentally I’m still perched on the edge of my theatre seat, legs dangling, a mouthful of jujubes welded to my gums. The other kids and I are still gasping at uncomplicated cliff-hangers on Saturday afternoons and the big screen and I are on the same track. We stayed there too — until the 1960’s, when we parted ways. Producers and directors somehow no longer knew how to make actors portray bad behavior without rubbing my nose in it.
You Can’t Stand on Gelatin
These days authority can be a little wobbly–like Jell-O. It has a basic form, but when the foundation is shaken, it bounces all over the place. It seems to me that, in a crisis, many decisions are now based on what will upset the fewest number of people, or on what is least likely to be overruled. Good leadership is supposed to do what is right, regardless of what someone else may later think, say or do.
I remember what was, for me, the first hint of “uncertainty” from superiors on the job. We had removed a baby from a home because of serious neglect. The parents were nowhere to be found at the moment, and the child was malnourished, with a case of diaper rash that rivaled some jungle rot I saw in Vietnam. When it came to prosecuting the parents, however, a superior hinted that we had to be careful, because we had no right to impose our personal standards on others.
I was dumbfounded. I understand personal freedom and individual styles of life, but it had never occurred to me that providing basic care to one’s own child could be a matter of personal choice. I found the comment very confusing, and when authorities are confused, they tend to be erratic in their conduct.
Disagreement is not a Declaration of War
People don’t always agree with me, but I try not to vilify them simply because they don’t. It’s true I may think they are totally off base, but they may think my little gray cells are no more than low-grade insulating foam. Our differences can make communication interesting and challenging, but they should not be cause for war.
Life brings debate. We cannot live without forming opinions, and because we each have different experiences, those opinions do not always agree. However, labeling people who disagree with us as contemptible is nothing more than a tactic to win arguments. It often works, too, because no one in his right mind would want to agree with a terrible person and no one in his right mind wants to be thought of as the Devil, himself.
Managing the “F” Word
An article in Mail On-line states that a high school in another English-speaking country has decided to allow their students to swear at teachers — as long as they don’t do it more than five times during a session. The administration’s reasoning is reportedly that bad words are a part of the students’ everyday language and, by keeping a tally, they are, “giving them a bit of leeway, but want them to think about the way they talk and how they might do better.”
According to the article, “the teacher will initially tolerate (although not condone) the use of the f-word (or derivatives) five times, and these will be tallied on the board so all students can see the running score.” Anyone who goes over the limit “will be ‘spoken’ to at the end of the lesson.”
Well, there’s a deterrent if I ever heard one. Any student who will use the “f” word five times to a teacher during class is sure to cringe at the prospect of being “talked to” afterward, by that same teacher, no less.
Bedtime for Teenagers — Revisited
I’ve had several queries to the blog asking, “What time should teenagers go to bed?” My previous post must not have given enough of an answer because readers are evidently looking for a specific hour. Well, if that’s what parents need, there is a way to come up with definite bedtimes. We’ll just apply common sense.
Becoming Ourselves
Like most people who face an unknown challenge, new probation officers sometimes forget that it takes a while to develop their own “styles.” Although he didn’t say so during his training, one officer later admitted that he hadn’t believed there was such a thing as his own technique. I had warned him not to try to copy anyone else, but he didn’t have the confidence to be himself, so he spent a long time trying to imitate others. It made him second-guess everything, and even had him questioning his choice of careers.
A Case of Better Late than Never
The girl was about sixteen and was in Court for a number of offenses, not the least of which was using her parents’ credit card to run up a bill of over one thousand dollars. Of course she had nothing to show for the money, since it had all been spent on friends and “having fun.”
The Walk on the Moon
Forty years ago Neil Armstrong and “Buzz” Aldrin walked on the moon. As they were doing so, I was trudging around another stark landscape — a fire support base in Vietnam. I was one of 125 American Red Cross Donut Dollies who were stationed in-Country at the time. My co-workers and I were sent mostly to forward areas, so we got to know the opinions of the combat troops. We talked with them enough to hear how they felt about things. On that particular day their talk was about the men on the moon.
“I’m telling you, I’m just not that impressed,” said one man who had just come in from a long patrol. Another chimed in. “Well, yeah, it’s great we put somebody up there, ‘n all, but you can bet they’ll get them home, alright, yet they can’t seem to get me outta here!” The rest of the men agreed and added their own takes on their situations, as compared to the Astronauts’.
I’ve never forgotten those remarks. In fact, since we had no televised access to what was occurring, the Moon Walk, for me, has always been more about those GI’s and their comments, rather than a visual memory from seeing it happen as it occurred. That doesn’t mean I’m not proud of the accomplishment. I am proud we made it to the moon, and I’m also proud of those soldiers, the nurses and others who were doing their stints in Vietnam at the time. Most of them, in their longing for home, thought they might as well have been on the moon too, that July 20, 1969.
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