The U.S.A. Needs to Grow Up

FYI: My new, header photo at the top of the page is from our garden. I like the clarity of the photo as well as how it alludes to an openness, a hopefulness. Photographer: me.

As a country, the United States of America is still in a rough draft, test stage. We are in the middle school years of our life. We like to think we are middle aged with some wisdom but I think not.

Our current president is an indicator. He leads like a head bully. He personifies this country’s lack of maturity. He’s always been the self-centered, fragile, macho teen bully that the other kids (senators) are afraid to defy. You remember the type from middle school; no one really approves of the guy but the group tolerates him…to a point.

Other ways we act like middle schoolers: too often, we make judgments about others without knowing much about the situation; we are curious, but not great listeners; depth is not our strength; we like to try on “adult” actions with little success; we don’t appreciate the wisdom of adults (older countries…or even historians).

In order to grow up, people generally need a wake up call. Some eye-opening moment that requires self-analysis, that begs for a change of behavior. If the country hasn’t been having wake up calls lately, I’m not sure what these have been. Between injustices and murders of Black people by our police forces to denial of climate change in light of increased forest fires and rising oceans to rampant disrespect of women to the way some can’t follow safety guidelines to (insert your examples here) things seem a bit out of control and juvenile these days.

Growing up does not mean becoming liberal or conservative. It does mean moving on from those juvenile qualities of our early days: it means doing more listening for understanding, more learning and less judging, being more confident and comfortable with who we are and less likely to take things personally.

Empathy should not be political. It’s a human skill. QAnon is not an example of empathy…it is juvenile, paranoid, ridiculous…and way too popular. There are signs that empathy is still alive and well in our country and lately I’ve been seeking them out.

I recently took part in my first Living Room Conversation (albeit virtual). These are structured ways to have civil conversations with people from a variety of political beliefs. Here are the ground rules …

I found the time to be a useful exercise in listening to others. Though there weren’t as many conservatives in the conversation in which I participated, we did talk a lot about people’s varying ideas about our core values like freedom, access to work, and rising to a challenge. Some spoke of how the promise of America is so different than the reality for most people. People from around the country shared notions of balancing our hyper individualism with interdependence and our high hopes with a lowering of expectations; how understanding and tolerance may be more reasonable goals for us.

Another resource that I happened on is a book called Beyond Your Bubble: How to Connect Across the Political Divide by Tania Israel. This book jumped out at me as I was dropping off a couple books at a Little Free Library near my house. Someone had left an Advance Preview copy of this 2020 book that’s on the market now. This book dovetailed nicely in with the online conversation I had. For example, the diagram from the book, below, points out some tips on having a meaningful dialogue. Though somewhat simplified, I found it a good reminder that we are more alike than different.

Both Living Room Conversations and this book focus on understanding the other side. They focus on tolerance for each other’s views. You may not think that’s enough or possible or worth it. I think it is. We’re not going to change each other. But in a peaceful society, we need to practice civility. We need to understand and appreciate each other. Respect our differences.

If we don’t aim for at least tolerance, the air in our bubble becomes quite stale and practically non-existent. And beyond tolerance, I wonder if another concept could be helpful. From the Living Room Conversations website, I learned a new word: sonder. Sonder is the realization that everyone has a story.

Be well my friends.

——
I recently read White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo and Michael Eric Dyson; here’s part of my reaction in a poem.
——

White

I am not white

The edges of my eyes
are my only actually white part

Some call my skin
Mediterranean or olive
or Middle Eastern
but that’s really just
avoiding the question

Yes I am white
in that
white male white privileged way

Some people see me
as a white, Ford F450
with perpetual right of way
in their way

And acquaint me with a long line
of dead white guys
who wreaked havoc
(that is, death and destruction)
while playing
the Christian card

I don’t like being put in a box
with those guys

I do like being me
which is akin to hating
my truck but liking that it
gets me places

I don’t think I live like a Ford F450
but that doesn’t seem to matter
I need to accept my label
and hug the shoulder
so non-white folks
can get by

——

Resources:

* The Storycorps Project and Listening is an Act of Love by Dave Isay

* Elayne Griffin Baker’s insightful list of what we’ve lost in the White House

* The Living Room Conversation piece on Sonder

* How to Recognize and Deal with Emotional Immaturity…while not about the USA, seems to fit.

* Immature Leadership: Donald Trump and the American Presidency and a reminder of what he’s done

What Can We Do To Fix This?

I’ve been avoiding looking at my privilege for a long time.

While I realize I’m a white male in a mostly white society, for most of my life I wasn’t aware of my privilege (which is part of the problem).

I usually fell into statements like…

I am fortunate.
My life is blessed.

Without looking too much beyond that.

When I think about race and racism, I feel stuck. I feel like nothing I say will change the mess of a system we now have. So why am I saying anything? Partly, it has to do with being a writer and an educator; through writing, I often come to understand my own thinking and I feel like I need to do that before I can share it or help others to understand their thinking. More importantly, though, is that I’m realizing that writing is not enough. The injustices in the world are calling out once again that it is time for action.

Below are two, recent Facebook posts (written by other people) that I hope you will ponder for more than a quick read. I have re-read them several times and they are both a call to action.
The second post was written by the parent of a former student; Sam Hosey is a man that I respect — an intelligent, involved and caring parent, whose opinion as a person and as a black man, I value.

#1

In America – because I am a human who happens to have white skin, I can do all of these things without thinking twice:

I can be arrested without fear of being murdered (#GeorgeFloyd)
I can go birding (#ChristianCooper)
I can go jogging (#AmaudArbery)
I can sleep in my own home (#BreonnaTaylor)
I can relax in the comfort of my own home (#BothemSean and #AtatianaJefferson)
I can ask for help after being in a car crash (#JonathanFerrell and #RenishaMcBride)
I can have a cellphone (#StephonClark)
I can leave a party to get to safety (#JordanEdwards)
I can play loud music (#JordanDavis)
I can sell CDs (#AltonSterling)
I can sleep (#AiyanaJones)
I can walk from the corner store (#MikeBrown)
I can play cops and robbers (#TamirRice)
I can go to church (#Charleston9)
I can walk home with Skittles (#TrayvonMartin)
I can hold a hair brush while leaving my own bachelor party (#SeanBell)
I can party on New Years (#OscarGrant)
I can get a normal traffic ticket (#SandraBland)
I can lawfully carry a weapon (#PhilandoCastile)
I can break down on a public road with car problems (#CoreyJones)
I can shop at Walmart (#JohnCrawford)
I can have a disabled vehicle (#TerrenceCrutcher)
I can read a book in my own car (#KeithScott)
I can be a 10yr old walking with our grandfather (#CliffordGlover)
I can decorate for a party (#ClaudeReese)
I can ask a cop a question (#RandyEvans)
I can cash a check in peace (#YvonneSmallwood)
I can take out my wallet (#AmadouDiallo)
I can run (#WalterScott)
I can breathe (#EricGarner)
I can live (#FreddieGray)

White privilege is real. Take a minute to consider a Black person’s experience today.

#BlackLivesMatter

THIS IS NOT A COMPREHENSIVE LIST. It goes deeper and longer and so many injustices never saw the light of day.

I did not write this…feel free to share it…

______________________________________________________________

#2
By Sam Hosey

Thank you to all of my friends, who happen to be white, (or non-black) that have spoken up and spoken out. Many of you are my childhood friends and former co-workers whom I love dearly and I know many of you feel the same. So what do we do next? That’s a question I get asked often. First, keep your eyes open for injustices, but also look beyond the blatant racist acts and look for disproportionate treatment in our institutions. Second, call out your friends, relatives and even employers on their biased habits. Here are some suggestions…(and ask what can you do to fix this?)
* Read the book “White Fragility”
* Ask why is my church predominately white?
* Ask why my company or department isn’t 14% black (percentage of black population) at every level (entry level to executives)?
* Ask why the nonprofit board I’m on is so white?
* How many black people are in my circle of actual friends that I can talk to and listen to?
* How many black teachers has my child had in school?
* How many black neighbors do I have?
* How many black people are city council members?
* How many black public servants are there in my community?
* How many black people have I helped groom professionally speaking?
* Ask why are most of my local news anchors white?
* Ask when the last time I saw a white person brutalized on the news vs. the last time I saw a black person brutalized?
* Ask why are nearly all owners of NFL and NBA sports franchises white but players about 75% black?
* Ask why are most university presidents white?
* Ask why are athletic directors and D1 football/basketball coaches white, but the players mostly black?
* Ask why do I have such a problem with black athletes — who come from disadvantaged economic backgrounds and generate billions for the NCAA and millions for the school — getting paid, but are okay with white coaches getting millions?
* Ask why is the hero or leading character in my favorite movie white?
* Ask what programs does my company sponsor to uplift the black population in our community?
* Ask why are the rankings of “best schools” and “best neighborhoods” and “best cities to live” are always predominantly white?

I could go on. To bridge these gaps it will take very specific and intentional steps from white people. Attend meetings for the city council, the school board, your HOA, your nonprofit, your church, your company’s hiring panel and call this stuff out. Challenge other people who are in charge to fix it. Recruit, start action-based diversity programs, be welcoming, call out injustice and the wrong we see. It won’t do much if a couple people do it, but if a few million do, then we can effect change pretty fast and we won’t have to see racist cops killing people anymore. Thanks for listening.❤️

If you want to watch/listen to something to help kick start you, peep this out…

________________________________________

Wrap up…in direct response to Dr. DiAngelo’s video…and the two posts from above —

I’m the white progressive Dr. DiAngelo is talking about in the above video. I see that now. I do feel that I have tried to inform myself on race issues to some extent: attending diversity trainings and taking implicit bias tests, reading many books by black authors, singing in a mixed race gospel choir, many relationships with people of color… I try to be informed…but no, I haven’t given years to “study, struggle, and focus” on this topic.

I’m aware that my understanding of racism is incredibly incomplete, and there is some discomfort in discussing it…but that’s where growth comes from.
One tries to be humble and vulnerable when one is learning.
Humility…saying one has it pretty much destroys credibility.

the uncomfortability of discussing racism
is where we grow
things fall apart
so that they can be pieced back
together together
to fall apart…
know that the falling apart
will be pieced back
together

Yes, I was raised to be racially illiterate. Being Armenian, I was taught to be proud of my ethnicity. Proud of our language, our food, our history, our struggle to persevere and survive genocide,
and that’s similar
but different,
narrow, limited

I’m not living in Turkey.
Maybe if I was an Armenian living in Turkey right now…

Racism is definitely a system.
I’m part of it. Not proud of that.
A part of it
Not
apart from it

Her re-framing of the Jackie Robinson story for truth (…”whites let him play”…) helps me. I need role models…for change. I keep going back to Sam’s list above and thinking about which ones to address first.

Aversive racism, as she describes it, fit me to a point; I don’t buy the notion that our places of work are mostly white because people of color don’t apply — I’ve seen racist policies in place going on there…but have I spoken up?

I need to use my freedoms, my privilege, to speak up and out to change our unjust system.

Here’s an excerpt from DiAngelo’s book to get you thinking…

continued…

Here are some other resources that have helped me on my continuing journey.

Resources

Begin with the video, above, then read the book…

White Fragility by Dr. Robin DiAngelo

Assertive Black…Puzzled White: A Black Perspective on Assertive Behavior by Donald K. Cheeck, Ph.D.

Furious Cool: Richard Pryor and the World That Made Him by David Henry and Joe Henry

Changing Systems, Changing Ourselves: Anti-racist Practice for Accompaniment, Sanctuary, and Resistance

The Race Card Project encourages people to condense their observations and experiences about race into one sentence with just Six Words.

Join the Earl Nelson Singers…we meet on Monday nights at 7 pm at Sexton High School in Lansing (when it’s safe to do so).

Your Kids Aren’t Too Young to Talk About Race

Learn How To Juggle

First, watch the video.
Then, practice juggling (re-watch the video as needed).
Finally, juggle as often as possible. It’s like learning to speak a language or getting better at playing a game (chess, for example). The more you do it, the better you (or at least most people) will get at it. What I don’t say in the video is that after awhile you’ll find that juggling is meditative. While at first it’s frustrating, over time it becomes calming. Enjoy!

Joys, Challenges, & Revelations from Traveling

I grew up traveling. Our family went places together. Sometimes my Baboo and Grandma Godoshian came along (I can still hear Baboo cracking jokes on that trip to Syracuse; Grandma didn’t think he was funny, but she laughed under her breath anyway). My mom had our Green-Go (green & gold, paneled station wagon) tooling down one highway or another toward Walt Disney World or Gettysburg or Boston relatives most summers. I have to say it was mostly about the destination and less about the journey…but then again, I was a pre-teen and then a teen.

This recent vacation started off focused on a wedding at a distant destination (for us. More later about how fantastic that turned out to be.) Our first day in Stockholm, we realized that each day would bring surprising, enjoyable moments. Arriving at Central Station on the train from the airport, we bought a T-ban transportation pass that would be good for a week. Though it seemed pricey at the time, that investment opened up the city to us. We felt comfortable getting on any subway, bus, tram, or ferry that we needed because of the ease of access the pass card gave us. And that, in turn, ended up making the trips relatively freeing and inexpensive. We used it within 15 minutes of purchasing it to take a ferry across the bay to our hotel (and I didn’t ‘drive’ anything for two weeks).


The boat hotel where we stayed a couple days is in this photo on the left. I didn’t know it was in the photo when I took the shot.


“Self portrait after days of travel on planes, trains, and automobiles. Adventure wins over checking the mirror, every time.” CVH, RIP

Rick Steves had prepared us well. We watched his video about the areas we would travel. We perused his book on the city. He mentioned a floating youth hostel as a possibility and, though we didn’t find the exact one, Rygerfjord Hotel and Hostel had comfortable rooms and priceless views for affordable prices. Soaking this place in was one of our first joys. It is true, though, that it was one of our first challenges, too; I had it in my mind that it was docked to our right when we got off the ferry and we pulled our luggage a couple hundred yards out of the way before we realized it had been 50 feet to our left off the ferry. A sobering laugh at ourselves to start. While we were staying there, Sweden played in the World Cup. We experienced the popularity of soccer/football firsthand: every time Sweden scored, we could hear the fans cheer from the outside viewing venues around the city —— we were on the boat and could hear the cheers across the water in the downtown area a mile away.

Weddings exude joy and hope regardless of location, but being in such a bustling, novel place with friends did ratchet up the excitement. As a matter of fact, we had a small herd of people carrying flowers on the subway to the wedding, which was fun. Hallie Reed, formerly of East Lansing but now teaching and residing in Stockholm, Sweden, married Joakim Slettengren in an ornate church; they then had us transported (via bus and ferry) to an island for the reception. I kid you not. Swedish custom involves sharing many toasts at the reception. I bet there were over a dozen toasts (Rachel gave a very sweet one) sprinkled throughout the night. It didn’t seem like too much —— we all felt closer to the couple after hearing from a diverse group of familiy and friends. Another Swedish custom was to split up parties at the reception; we sat next to people we didn’t know and thus made new friends. One more way Hallie and Joakim personalized the experience: Each person at the wedding had a few sentences written up about him or her in the program explaining his or her relationship to the couple. Pretty damn cool. A friend asked what they served and not until I was writing this did I notice that they had the menu at the front of the program.

The second place we stayed was the same as the myriad American guests: Hellstens Malmgard. It was Queen Christina’s Hunting Palace back in the 18th century. Our room was carved out of the attic space but was still plenty of room for the three of us (though the bathroom was hard to stand up in and a bit of an obstacle course). The breakfasts were buffet of deliciousness: soft & hard-boiled eggs, cheeses, yogurts, salami and other meats, croissants and other breads/crackers, jellies, at least one fish (usually herring or salmon), and always coffee and tea.

Our third spot (and first airbnb of the trip) was in Hagersten-Liljeholmen, right outside of downtown Stockholm. Since Rachel (and later Courtney) would be staying with us for part of the time, this space was larger. And just grand. On two floors and with a gorgeous view from the balcony, this was my favorite of all the places we stayed.

It was very helpful that most everyone we met knew how to speak English. It’s so accomodating that it could make one feel inadequate. We did have a couple incidents, though, where language issues made life interesting. At a Thai restaurant, since the menu was just in Swedish, our waiter/cook asked us (in English) what we liked and made each of our meals to order. The food was so delicious (especially the spring rolls), that we went back a couple days later to order more spring rolls. The previous waiter wasn’t there and the woman who helped us didn’t know much English. Judy pointed to the spot on the menu and asked for two orders of spring rolls. We clarified with her and she seemed to understand. However, when she brought out the spring rolls, there were 14 of them. She brought us two large orders instead of the small. We decided that it was a happy accident and ate as many as we could and saved the rest for the next day at the train station.

One of our frustrations was that our train to Oslo had been canceled and the train company had neglected to email us. Many people were in the same holding pattern as we waited four hours for a train traveling the five hours to Oslo.
Our Oslo airbnb was minimalistic, but just enough. It was in the Grunerlokka neighborhood, which had a hip, international feel to it. We heard many languages spoken as we searched for coffee in the mornings and slept with the windows open (no screens) each night; it was only semi-dark from 11:30 PM to 3:30 AM and blackout curtains were a must. We visited the Nobel Peace Center and it was enlightening (follow the link for a quick look). From Oslo, we took trains, a bus, and a boat on our Norway in a Nutshell fjord cruise. Basically, breath-taking views in every direction for most of a full day.


This bathroom was extremely efficient use of space —— the shower walls folded in to give just enough room to stretch out when you brushed your teeth.

The one night we were in Bergen, Norway, our airbnb turned out to be somewhat hard to find, despite being very close to the train station. We passed it once and then circled back, partly because the “street” it was on was more like an alley. It was very clean and comfortable though, and within walking distance to everything we needed (coffee, Indian food, the funicular up the mountain, a salad & wraps place for lunch & ice cream).

On past trips overseas, we have exchanged some of our American dollars for the country’s monetary unit (in this case, krona). This time, though, both Sweden and Norway seemed virtually cashless. A few places actually had signs that read “cashless.” We didn’t need krona on us. It helped to know the exchange rate, so that we had a general idea of how much we were spending; I had it written down for awhile, then moved to just dividing (in Sweden by 9, in Norway by 8). Though it seems a long way from happening here, one thing did occur to me: if the American business community could be shown that people spend more money when it’s digital, then it may happen sooner (as a tourist, especially, the amount sometimes doesn’t “matter” as much when it’s not tangible).

We struck up conversations with many delightful people on trains and in restaurants. We met Janne from Bergen on her way to her cottage; Kenneth from Oslo who worked for a tech company; we met Eesa from Stockholm while we all watched a World Cup game (Eesa asked me point blank what I thought of our President and the first word that came to mind was an “embarassment” and he agreed saying that our other recent Presidents had at least been gentlemen); I talked with a lawyer named John from Oslo getting away to the mountains to hike for the weekend (he was exceedingly taken with puns, idioms, and sayings from the English language and how understanding them could help him in his job); and we met Lorne and Audra from the San Francisco, CA, area — as a matter of fact, we kept running into them so much that we hung out with them several times after that, enjoying their company enough to exchange contact information. So many wonderful memories that the fact that Aaron, Judy, and I were starting to get on each other’s nerves by the end of the trip seems almost insignificant.

Each person had their own story. Traveling does that for me. It reminds me of the diversity of the human experience and that I should never try to make someone’s lived experience smaller by stereotyping them based on one attribute. We are all so much more than we seem. If you need a song that supports that notion, check out May Erlewine’s “Never One Thing” from her new Mother Lion CD.

Peace and joy on your journey,
Aram

One Time at a Time

Time in the airport — staying calm amid the hustle and the bustle, sitting on the tarmac for one hour before the flight was cancelled, waiting 12 hours for the next flight, playing several games (Clubs, Five Crowns, Hearts…), and arriving in Seattle after having been awake for 24+ hours, dazed and grateful

Time in the rental car avoiding other cars and walking/biking/moped-riding people, as well as avoiding traffic jams with Rachel’s knowledge of the city

Time with family hiking up to Rattlesnake Ledge — only 4 miles roundtrip, but up 1200 feet in elevation for some glorious views

Time walking around Seattle seeing quite a few homeless people, wondering what their lives were like, are like, will be like

Time reading a novel about time-travel and, at times, wishing to jump into the story to experience the 18th century for a few hours or days

Time virtually dangling my feet over Washington (Snoqualmie Falls, breeching whales in Puget Sound, Olympic National Forest, the San Juan Islands, the Walla Walla Valley Balloon Stampede) as part of Wings over Washington

Time watching Arrival and wondering if time is the subtle, constant force I’ve always accepted it as being or if one can move forward and back within its vastness

Time with Judy listening to Ravel, Beethoven, and Gliere played by the Lansing Symphony Orchestra; Judy had worked with french horn soloist, David Cooper, decades before which made it even more special

Time standing in the hall outside my classroom at MacDonald Middle School looking at each student that passes and picturing each one walking across the stage getting their diplomas as graduating seniors

Time to construct a letter about an issue I care about and put it out there in the world — and having a friend make a meaningful comment about it

Time to candidly talk with a past student and see what he created from our talk

Time listening to a sermon entitled “Timing,” hearing a voice from the past say “Hell is truth seen too late,” and automatically thinking that the owners of Eastwood Towne Center will rue the day they didn’t work out a deal with Schuler Books, causing it to close; I’ll always remember one customer grieving the bookstore’s closing by saying,
“I mean,
we
lived
here”

Memories of France and Italy

I’m sorry, but “What was your favorite city?” is not a fair question. Yes, I have answered it, but if you have traveled much at all (and I hope you have), you know that it’s unlikely that one particular place rose above the rest of the amazing places.

Though I do understand the impetus of the question. You want me to relate the highlights of a 24 day get-away in a succint and helpful manner. You want to know, quickly, which place you may want to go on your trip someday (or maybe you’re just being polite). The problem is that visiting new places is very experiential. It happens, it’s awesome, and then you move on to the next amazing place. Unless one takes a video of the whole experience (which I’ve seen others do) — and even that isn’t the same — being there is really the only way to get across the enormity of the cathedral, the brilliant colors of the 15th century fresco, or the thrill of being 12,600 feet up in the mountains and seeing three countries at once. Words don’t do these experiences justice…so I should just stop writing….

Since I appreciate you taking the time to read this blog entry, however, here are my top seven favorite memories from our recent trip to France and Italy:

1. The greater Paris area speaks to me. The Metro is so useful and relatively cheap. The train (which is different from the Metro) helped us get to Giverny quickly and enjoy Monet’s gardens. We found ourselves at the top of places, searching for more stunning viewpoints (ie., Eiffel Tower, Arch de Triomphe, Notre Dame, and our 4th floor Airbnb, up one of many circular stairways). We enjoyed a riverboat cruise on the Seine River on the first night, too (Judy reaches to touch a bridge, below…click on the photo to enlarge it).

2. Beaune was memorable for the wine tastings, the food, and Daniele (our Airbnb host) and her generosity. I was surprised that the wine tastings were in the cellars of the winery; we snaked through over a mile of tunnels lined with wine barrels and stopped occasionally to drink a small quantity of various, delicious wines.

3. Mont Blanc took my breath away. That is, the views were gorgeous and we were so high up (12,600 feet) that I had some trouble breathing. We were in the French Alps at Chamonix, France, and found it charming and welcoming. We took the gondola up to Aiguille du Midi, an observation platform to view Mont Blanc; Rick Steves was there last year and made a short, informational video. Judy was in her glory with mountain views in every direction. We stayed at a beautiful, rustic hotel on the Arve River called the Hotel d’Arve And ‘stepped into the void’ for a dramatic photo.

4. The Amalfi Coast is gorgeous. We stepped into the Mediterranean Sea on some black, slippery stones in Positano. Then, later we stayed in a wonderful family hotel on a hill near Sorrento that overlooked the Tyrrhenian Sea and Naples and Mt. Vesuvius in the distance.

5. We were only in Venice for a couple days and in that short time we glimpsed the integral and complex place that diverse boats play there. We were on water taxis, a gondola, a water subway, a car ferry, and a regular ferry on our way out to the island of Lido to get to our hotel. And we found ourselves up high again to get a new perspective.

6. Staying at the Grand Hotel on Lake Maggiore in northern Italy with the Alps on the horizon was incredibly picturesque and the hotel’s lasagna was the lightest, most delicious of the trip. It was a resort area with a very relaxing vibe and I would go back in a nano-second.

7. Judy and I had a remarkable dinner experience in the Tuscany region outside of Florence at the Villa Machiavelli — excellent food (I had a T-bone steak), serenaded by a talented singer and guitar player, some impromptu dancing with Alissa (our travel director) and Preston (a new friend from Massachusetts with an artistic, fun sense), intersting conversation…and several local varieties of wine!

I would return to all of those spots. And many more. (I would have to win the Lotto to do it again soon…if you’re thinking about doing a similar trip and want to talk about costs for such a trip, email me at akabodian@gmail.com and we’ll talk over coffee.) Traveling is almost always costly, but it is always worth it, in my experience. I find that if I spend too long in my safe, predictable space, I forget about the rest of the world. I don’t think about people speeding along at 180 miles per hour on bullet trains or people who feel they need to pickpocket or palm bills upon payment in order to survive. I forget that there are other, interesting things to eat for breakfast, that even ice cream can blow your mind (as in…gelato), and that lemons (super-huge lemon skins) can be turned into tasty Limoncello. Travel spices up life by reminding us of the diversity of people and cultures. I can’t wait until we plan another get-away.

A few rules or guidelines we tried to live by while we were there:
1. Use a rest room whenever you have the chance because you may not see one again for awhile (or you may have to pay for it…some public rest rooms in Italy cost .50 euro – 1 euro to use).
2. Use the language of the country if possible. People seemed to appreciate it if we said Hello, Thank you, You’re welcome, and other phrases in the language of the country…although I think I said Parle vouz anglais? (Do you speak, English?) more than any other phrase.
3. If you hear English being spoken by others, assume they are tourists and engage them in conversation. That connection with strangers in a foreign place is like finding a surprise, temporary relative. We met people from many states (FL, CA, PA, NY, TX…) that way, as well as interesting blokes from England and Australia.
4. Wear your money belt (with credit cards, passport, and some euros) almost all the time you are in a public place. With exceptions like the hotel restaurant and the pool, we felt safer with our valuables under one layer of clothes. We still had a few bills and some change accessible in pockets, but not the more valuable items.
5. If your feet are happy, you’ll be happy. We both had amazing shoes with us — I wore my Keen hiking boots and Judy wore a Keen sandal with a closed toe most of the time. These shoes had plenty of support, some breathing space, decent comfort, and weren’t excessively heavy.
6. Write down what you did every day because it’s tough to remember later on. Judy was great at this.
7. Take some photos, but don’t go crazy with it…enjoy the moment. That may be hard to believe, if you follow the link to the photo album I put together. However, I could have filmed the whole trip…it was that amazing…so finding your own balance is necessary. You’ll see people who go overboard — don’t be that person.
8. Look up…and down. The ceilings are often the most impressive part of the view. Frescos cover many ceilings and multi-colored marble and granite show up when you least expect it. Ditto on the floors.
9. Let somebody who knows the area do the driving. We used the Metro in Paris, our Eurail passes several times crossing France and then, in Italy, let the bus driver get us places (we took the Best of Italy bus tour with Trafalgar, which we highly recommend; we also recommend Affordable Tours to book the tour). It lowered our stress-levels significantly to trust others to get us places and not try to figure it out — especially since we hadn’t been to most of the places we visited. It was more expensive, but I was so glad we had made that choice. And I still remembered how to drive when we returned…so yeah.
10. Rick Steves is usually right, so don’t doubt him.

Here are some of our photos and videos for your enjoyment. Let me know if you want a personal explanation of any or all of them:

France and some of Italy

More of Italy

The Cascade du Dard (waterfall) near Chamonix, France video

Alissa tells Odysseus/Sirens story on the road to Positano, Italy, video

Processing the process

Note: Somewhere along the way, this entry turned into a commencement address or ‘what I would have said at a retirement soirée’ if there was one. I wrote it over the course of the last few months, which explains why it rambles a bit.

I was not one of those kids who knew what he wanted to be when he grew up. For the first couple years of college, my major was officially “Undecided” and at one point it was “Undecided – Economics.” My cousin, Laurie, was the only practicing teacher in my extended family; she and I never really discussed her job, but knowing she made that choice opened the profession as an option (even if only subconsciously).

And now after 25 years in the profession, I am retiring. A year ago, I pondered retirement in a blog post. I mentioned that, though I had taught all those years, it felt like many jobs. In a blog post entitled “When I Retire,” I noted all my different teaching positions:

* Years 1-3, teaching high school English
* Year 4, teaching middle school English and Social Studies
* 1 1/2 year break to go back to M.S.U. and get my Masters Degree in Special Education
* Years 5-7, teaching middle school Special Education in a self-contained classroom and some co-teaching
* Year 8, teaching high school Special Education
* Years 9-10, teaching high school Special Education at a different high school (more of a Resource Room)
* Years 11-14, teaching high school Special Education at a different high school (back to a self-contained classroom)
* Years 15-17, teaching 8th grade English
* Years 18-23, teaching 7th grade English
* Year 24 (and now, Year 25), teaching 7th and 8th grade English

Moving between four school districts and back-and-forth between English and Special Education has helped the “quarter century” fly by. I realized in my mid-20’s that I could combine a love of reading and writing with a passion for working with young adults — I sincerely appreciate all four school districts (Rochester, Charlotte, Okemos, and East Lansing), all my colleagues over the years, and all of my students and their parents for the opportunity to be a teacher and to learn from each of them. It takes a village to raise a teacher and I was blest by teacher friends and by family who supported me in numerous ways. Two that come to mind right away are Joanne Hubbard and Troy Hicks. They both renewed my love of the profession when it was waning and I sincerely thank them both.

I’m leaving with some pretty good company: Calvin Johnson of the Lions, Kobe Bryant of the Lakers, Peyton Manning of the Broncos, Barack Obama, Garrison Keillor…John Brandenburg (of East Lansing High School), Sue Hulteen (of MacDonald Middle School). We didn’t all get together and decide, but I feel like we’ll always have a special bond. We knew when we could afford to turn down the millions of dollars a year and find some other — more relaxing — thing to help us pass the time (though I suppose Obama didn’t have a choice).

Some things have helped me with this transition year. Having third hour planning has helped in an odd way. Third hour is the hour that teachers read the announcements and have the students say the Pledge of Allegiance. While those are good and necessary, I have not missed them a bit. I will occasionally read the announcements myself so I know what’s going on around the school; frankly, however, I think not knowing every single thing has helped me disconnect a bit. I get plenty of e-mails with information. I know enough about what’s happening. And the pledge? It’s patriotic to recite it daily…for a few days. By the sixth month of school, it’s difficult to keep it fresh. I love this country. But I don’t miss saying the pledge everyday.

Through a scheduling fluke, I ended up eating lunch with mostly 8th grade teachers. They are wonderful folks, but they aren’t my usual eating companions; I miss eating lunch with my 7th grade teacher buddies, but it did require me to take another step back and away.

We had a snow day in February. One of the many things I did was write a countdown of school days in my planner. It was 85 days as February started and that seemed like it would take forever. As I write these words, though, we are in the teens (14 1/2) already. I had a very astute 7th grader comment that “the years fly by, but the the days sometimes last forever.” So true.

In some ways, the changes in being a teacher have sped my departure from the profession. The over-reliance on evidence-based decision-making has made us into test administrators. We spend much more time talking about testing among ourselves (reading about them, planning schedules around them, commiserating about them…) and with our students (preparing them for taking a test online, explaining new schedules, debriefing how the test went…) and it stinks. It takes away time from what we would rather be doing. It also sets an impersonal mood and takes the focus off relationships, creativity, and curiosity. I recently watched Michael Moore’s latest movie, Where to Invade Next, and part of it dealt with Finland’s amazing public school system. Finnish teachers were imploring the U.S. to stop using standardized testing and Finnish students were talking about how their no homework, shorter school day helped them learn. Finland, and other countries like France, put the curricular emphasis on nurturing healthy, happy young people and on developing critical thinkers who know how to play and make time for it — things we are straying away from, unfortunately. (I highly recommend the movie. For more information about it, read this review.)

The nice thing about being in a transition year is that I say what’s on my mind (mostly). I take a deep breath, then tell my students something to the effect of “I’m not sure why you didn’t read it off the handout or off the board or hear me say it several times, but the answer to your question is…” or “Ask someone else.” I offer several lectures a week (at no additional cost or obligation) about common sense. And about thinking before you speak or act. I’ve been the point person for several staff members, too, who have needed an honest person with nothing to lose to say something to the administration. Though I’m not always proud of it, one thing that has helped me this year is lowering my expectations…for myself and for the students; together with that extra deep breath, there’s something about cutting myself some slack and not worrying when students don’t quite reach the bar that has kept me moving along with a smile.

They do do cool stuff now and then. Zoie walks up with a smile on her face and says she signed up for my summer camp on creative writing (as did two other awesome students). Elisabeth stays after to clean up the mess left by another student. William helps also. I will miss Julia’s mature, sensitive writing style. Many make me laugh. And they don’t bug me (much) about my messy desk.

How I know it’s time…
– when I give a male student the choice of researching anyone’s life that he’s interested in learning more about and he chooses a male porn star (it didn’t happen)
– I find myself muttering under my breath too often
– my ocular migranes are increasing in frequency
– on the grumpy vs. silly scale, I’m leaning more toward the Dark Side
– students don’t listen. Don’t pay attention. Are incredibly distracted. Most students. Not all. I can say something, write it on the board, say it again, they have it on a handout in front of them…almost every time, someone will ask about it
– that book is not going to write itself; I need more time for such things

People give me ideas of what to do with my retirement. Recently, I was told that home-school organizations are always looking for teachers. Many districts need substitute teachers I’m told (not going to happen). And tutors make good money from what I hear. I’ve been told to travel a bunch. Many people predict my “honey do” list will get increasingly longer and longer. They say I’ll be more busy after retirement than when I was working full-time (though this last list of folks probably just has trouble saying ‘no’). I may try one of those ideas, but I’ve really enjoyed looking at all the possibilities; this next stage of my life feels akin to the high school and college graduates I know as they embark toward whatever’s next. Students I taught in middle school reminded me (in the ELHS commencement addresses) to “pursue my dreams” and “be innovative.” I’ve appreciated these events with a fresh, personal perspective and I’ve felt quite inspired by them.

It’s also been an emotional year for me. I tear up often, over crazy stuff: that last time, 6th hour, when I closed The Giver for the last time in front of my students; unexpectedly seeing Thia and her smile on my walk home; seeing Alex return after being gone for a long time for personal issues…and our hug; seeing Berkley’s name in a Literature book and thinking about the several, unique girls I have known with that name over the years. I’ve been on the verge daily. As joyous and giddy as I feel at times, I also get pretty choked up. Not a regretful feeling — I just know I’ll miss this great profession. I may need to do some of that tutoring after all. And I’m sure I will be writing about the next steps I take, whatever they are.

sign

Aaron gets off his bike in Seattle!

Rachel and Aaron
This afternoon, Aaron made it to Rachel and Robbie’s apartment in Seattle.
According to Rachel, he “busted through the door with a big “Hello!” And there was much whooping and laughing.
He traveled over 3,000 miles in 74 days (keeping very close to his 40 miles a day average that he planned on at the beginning). Judy and I are extremely happy, of course, that Aaron made it safely. We do appreciate everyone’s thoughts and prayers over the last couple months.

Some said it was inconceivable
or even impossible
to comprehend “letting” him go
on the trip (as if we had any say in the matter).
Though we were very concerned about his safety,
our over-riding feelings were (and are) pride, excitement, jealousy, curiosity, and joy.

I was looking for a poem to express this combination of feelings and the following They May Be Giants song comes pretty close.

“Impossible” by They Might Be Giants (just the music, no motion)

And Aaron would probably say that this trip isn’t really over…so here’s one more They May Be Giants tune (this one has cool stop-motion visuals) that seems to fit.

“Happy Doesn’t Have to Have an Ending”

Both of these songs come off of the
Bed, Bed, Bed CD which is $15 at this website.

Here’s another look at the most recent the google map if you need it.
And here’s another look at the middle part of his journey.
And here’s another look at the beginning part of his journey.

On to Orcas Island

I wrote a lot on the google map. Please check it out (and all the links!).
Here’s a teaser video. It’s from the top of Mt. Constitution, which is where Aaron called us from today.
OMG!

Okay, one more thing. Hitch hiking is promoted on Orcas Island. Aaron met a hitch hiker and noticed these Rideshare signs. It’s a different world on the island.
hitch rideshare

A desire to learn = hopefulness

The other day, I was practicing disc (frisbee) golf with a friend. We were flicking our discs into one disc golf basket he had purchased. I mentioned that every time I throw a disc, I plan to make it in the basket. He seemed surprised. That’s just the way I approach things. Call it ‘confidence.’ Call it ‘hope.’ It just makes more sense to me than thinking I’m going to miss.
disc-golf-basket-vector

Think about it. When you shoot a basketball, throw a disc, tell a joke, bike across the country…whatever…do you plan on success? Any effort seems worthy of the hope that it will be successful. Sure, I’m going to miss my share, but why focus on that?

I think learning is similar. Being the naturally curious person I am is really a way I express hope. If I didn’t want to learn something, it would be like saying I didn’t care about my future. Putting in the effort to learn something new is my way of saying I want to be better in the future. And that there’s a future worth being better in.

Here are a few interesting things to learn:

* Gamestar Mechanic teaches kids how to design their own games.

* This one is an Online Personal Finance Game.

* An article about the subject: Games and the Common Core: Two Movements that Need Each Other (and the Edutopia “Games for Learning Resources” page)

* Making Stop Motion Movies (everything you need to know) by Kevin H.

The next thing I want to try is to combine juggling and jogging. As it turns out, it’s not that unique. Check out this short video about it.

Stay hopeful, my friends.

P.S. By the way, I still believe in the importance of failing. Just because I take an optimistic view of things doesn’t mean I don’t know the importance of trying/failing/learning/trying again (repeat as needed). Check out Kevin’s great blog entry on the subject.