Month: March 2017

East Meets West

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

captionI recall learning how to write a proper letter in elementary school. At the end of our practice the teacher surprised us by announcing that she had a list of children from Japan who wanted to communicate with an American pen pal. I immediately agreed to send a well written epistle if chosen for the honor of meeting a new friend in a faraway land. Happily I was one of the lucky ones who received the name and address of a Japanese girl who was waiting to hear from me.

My mother took me to a stationary store where I found some lovely lightweight paper with matching envelopes that would work well for sending an airmail post. It was a pale sea foam green and had tiny pink rosebuds imprinted in the background. It was the most beautiful parchment that I had ever seen. I was quite proud to have such a lovely means of getting to know my Japanese counterpart.

Following the instructions that my teacher had taught me and using my very best penmanship I introduced myself hoping that I would sound interesting enough to elicit a response. Once the letter was complete I carefully and nervously folded the sheets and enclosed them along with a school photo of myself inside the envelope. Mama drove me to the post office to be certain that there was enough postage on my letter to get it to Kyoto, Japan as quickly as possible. Then I waited and waited, checking my mailbox as soon I as got home from school each day.

It seemed like an eternity before I received a response. Some of my friends who had also written their pen pals had already brought letters from their correspondents to school to show the rest of us. I was beginning to wonder if I had sounded too boring to be worthy of a reply when a huge manila envelope came with my name printed neatly on it. Inside was a lovely book filled with exquisite photos of Kyoto. There were also multiple photographs of my pen pal who was a true dark haired beauty wearing a school uniform in one and traditional Japanese dress in another. She enthusiastically wrote about her excitement in receiving a letter from me and then told me all about herself. I was beside myself with wonder at the very idea of communicating with someone who lived so far away and in such a lovely place.

Over time we often wrote back and forth and made the kind of pledges that children often do that we would be best friends forever and that one day we would meet each other in person when we visited each other’s homes. I liked to imagine her walking through cherry blossoms and drinking exotic teas while she seemed intent on insisting that I must surely know lots of Texans who rode horses and did tricks with ropes. We both fantasized quite a bit and I suspect that we each became a bit disenchanted when we realized that life was actually rather mundane for both of us, filled with studies and the challenges growing up.

Eventually we hit our teenage years and became busier and busier and the letters came and went less and less frequently. Finally we were lucky to manage to write each other one time a year and then our longtime correspondence came to an end. I told myself that I would resurrect our friendship soon enough but I never seemed to find the time. What had been so much fun simply fizzled out but not without leaving a dramatic imprint on me. I had developed an enduring fascination with Japan that even decades later has not abated. I love to read about Japan, watch movies about Japan and I have even been known to have crushes on Japanese actors. In the back of my mind there has always been a dream of one day traveling there, especially to Kyoto.

I still have the book that my long ago friend sent to me. Sadly I did not keep the letters and time has erased my memory of her name. I have no address that might lead me to her again but I often think of her and wonder how her life has been. I’m curious to know if she married and had children. I try to imagine what type of job she may have held. She was quite artistic so I suspect that she did something creative. I hope that she has been happy and healthy and been able to accomplish her dreams. I’d like to think that she remembers our brief friendship and enjoyed it as much as I did. I feel guilty that I did not try hard enough to keep in touch and worry that something may have happened to her that prevented her from writing. I wish that I had inquired about her even if only in a brief message letting her know that I cared.

I never got to Japan. There were always other places to go and things to do. I was busy raising a family, taking care of my mother, working, sending my children to college. The years went by so quickly that I hardly noticed. I eventually rode horses now and again which I think she may have liked to know. I hiked to the top of mountains where it seemed as though I could see forever and I imagined her enjoying life somewhere off in the distance.

I did not forget her. How could I? Those letters from her gave me so much pleasure. They made me feel as if I had been part of a grand adventure. She and I shared our stories and our secrets and found that the east and the west were more alike than they were different. We were two girls who dreamed of conquering our respective worlds and I would like to believe that both of us did.

Let Squirrels Be Squirrels

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

squirrelsI’ve been watching a couple of squirrels terrorize each other as well as the peaceful doves who usually congregate in my backyard. The rascally critters have broken my bird feeder and spread seeds all over the grass. When I commented to my husband that I was angry that they had taken over my usually scenic area, he noted that they were just being what they were born to be.

It’s interesting that we allow members of the animal kingdom to follow their instincts but we so often want to push humans into being someone or something that just doesn’t feel right for them. We have this idea that everyone should go to college but the fact is that there are many wonderful jobs that require some training but not a degree. Someone who is a master electrician or plumber can have a comfortable and enjoyable life but we tend to freak out if our kids suggest that this is something that they would like to do.

I will never forget a long conversation that I had with one my students whose goal in life was to be a welder. His uncle was training him even before he had completed eighth grade. He had no desire to prepare for college. He loved the work that he was already doing.

I’ve known other young people who knew how to build custom wood floors and lay tile like it was going to be featured in the Taj Mahal. They were skilled in carpentry and able to fix cars. They had little desire to major in history of psychology. They wanted to work at refineries or in oil fields. They dreamed of becoming ranchers or farmers. They understood that they would make enough money to live rather well and it irritated them that instead of helping them to learn a viable trade those of us in the education biz were constantly attempting to wedge them into a collegiate box.

The same is true when it comes to choosing majors. There are those who honestly believe that if we just make science, mathematics and engineering seem exciting enough that more and more students will study for jobs in those fields. The truth is that some people simply are not interested in any way whatsoever in pursuing such technical careers just as my brother, the rocket scientist, would have been appalled at the idea of studying literature or poetry. Instead of insisting that every single high school student be required to build a college bound resume maybe it’s time for us to be more realistic and actually take the time to find out where each individual’s interests and talents lie.

One of the best classes that I ever took was one that I initially dreaded. It was a futures course entitled “Careers.” It seemed to be a total waste of time but once I had completed all of its requirements I understood myself so much more. It was far easier to outline work goals and to have an idea of where I might go in life. It identified my altruistic nature and the fact that I needed to feel as though I was making a difference in people’s lives to be truly happy in a job. It noted my creative bent, my diplomatic skills and my need for human interactions. Suddenly I realized that education was the perfect avenue in which I might use my talents. Indeed I found great happiness in my work, if not a fortune in earnings, something that was never that important to me.

Perhaps the gravest mistake that we make with our young is in placing more importance on certain lines of work than others, giving the impression that some occupations are not particularly worthwhile. We groan if our children suggest that they want to be writers and often redirect their interests before they have even had the opportunity to test the waters. I was told over and over again in high school that my desire to be a journalist was a silly pipe dream, a waste of my valuable time. My mentors wanted me to be a doctor, an engineer or a certified public accountant, none of which sounded like something that I wanted to do day in and day out. The adults in my life felt that I had the intellect to enter a career that would bring wealth to me but I was of a different mind. In the end happiness is as important in deciding such things as monetary gain.

I suspect that the entire educational system would greatly improve if we were to spend more time listening to our students and attempting to help them to find out how to use their abilities and interests to build a career. We need to be honest with them in admitting that a college degree alone does not insure a productive and happy life. We need to provide them with more choices than just a STEM or Liberal Arts degree. We need to particularly work with students who may not have any idea of the many possibilities for satisfactory work.

I was one of those kids who was quite limited in my knowledge of the world. My  isolated point of view had little idea of many careers that I might actually have enjoyed. It would have been wonderful to have more guidance from my teachers and counselors than how to fill out a college application. I got lucky when I took that Careers class in college and found my way on my own but not everyone is so fortunate. Far too many young people today graduate with enormous amounts of debt and no idea of how to transform the knowledge that they have gained into a real position that they will enjoy. Many times they fall into majors without much information as to how to use them in real world settings. There is a certain immorality in the ways that we so often mislead our students into believing that any kind of college degree will bring them the success that they seek. It’s time that we begin to rethink the way we help them so that they might find out what they were born to be.

Each of us have special aptitudes, talents and characteristics which if channeled properly lead to incredibly happy and secure lives. It should not be as difficult to find out what those things are as it presently is. We have the tools for unlocking the essence of each person.  We need to use that information more effectively. If we can let squirrels be squirrels then we should be willing to celebrate the incredible variety that is who each of us might be.

The Strangers

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

lrg1624When my mother was still living in her own home I picked her up every Friday afternoon and the two of us enjoyed a night on the town. Mama’s idea of a really good time was to go out to eat, more often than not at Cracker Barrel, and then do a bit of shopping. If she had not had an opportunity to purchase groceries during the week we would find ourselves at one of the food emporiums but if her pantry was fully stocked she would inavariably request that we go Almeda Mall, a place that she enjoyed because it was near her home and she knew the layout of every store like the back of her hand.

My mother never met a stranger so whenever we entered one of the shops there would be a host of people who came over to talk with her or call her by name as they waved a hello. It seems that she had even formed friendships with some of the frequent customers. I always had to laugh, under my breath of course, at the little old men with whom she coyly flirted. She justified her behavior by noting that it made them feel good to have the attentions of a woman if only for a fleeting moment. She so enjoyed making people happy.

There was one lady in particular with whom Mama always spoke. She was a small shy little creature who wore a worn felt hat and a moth eaten coat regardless of what time of year it was. She sat quietly in the food court wringing her hands and bearing a worried look on her face. She sometimes seemed unaware of her surroundings until my mother acknowledged her and then she would quietly engage in a brief conversation. Mama invariably purchased an ice cream or a cookie for the tiny lady and sat listening to her rambling with intense interest. I sometimes suspected that my mom had chosen to come to the mall just so she might have an encounter with her strange friend.

I learned that the woman was in her early nineties. She lived with her son who dropped her off each morning when he went to work and picked her up in the evening on his way back home. He was afraid to leave her at the house all alone but did not have enough income to pay for nursing care for her. He felt that she would at least be around people who might help her if she were at a public place and so he left her under the care of strangers each day with only enough funds to purchase lunch. She had become a kind of mascot to the regulars who worked and shopped there.

Almeda Mall was only a shell of what it had once been and it rarely attracted large crowds during the week. Many of the employees had worked in their respective jobs for years and were familiar with much of the clientele who were mainly from nearby neighborhoods. My mother explained that people knew of the lady’s situation and instead of reporting her and her son to the police they chose to silently look after her. Mama marveled at the kindnesses that she had seen being exhibited by those who understood the woman’s fate. She was the recipient of tiny gifts of food, drink and little trinkets throughout the day. Mostly the people who worked in and frequented the mall made sure that she was comfortable and safe as she sat alone for hours from Monday through Friday.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about the highly irregular situation. It was apparent to me that the sweet woman was not quite herself. She often appeared to be confused and even a bit frightened until a curtain was raised in her mind and she managed to recognize something about my mother that told her that it was safe to talk with her. Even my mom worried that someone might eventually take advantage of the circumstances and somehow harm her strange acquaintance. I simply went along with the charade given that at least for the moment there appeared to be no harm in allowing the lady to enjoy her freedom. I understood the high cost of home care and even greater expense of a senior living facility and marveled a bit that someone had concocted such an outrageous way of dealing with an elder family member. It seemed both neglectful and ingenious at one and the same time.

Eventually we no longer saw Mama’s “friend” when we visited the mall. My mother inquired about her and learned that she had finally become too ill to make the daily trip anymore. Her son had gone from store to store thanking employees who had been kind to her and told them that he had found some people from a church who had agreed to look after his mom at home at least until she became strong enough to continue her outings again.

She never returned and it worried and saddened my mother. I, on the other hand, was actually relieved because I had wondered how the practice could possibly have been continued without something terrible eventually happening to the old soul. Mama, however, saw it differently. She believed that as long as the lady had been able to dress herself in her hat and coat and have a place to go each day she had a reason for living, something to look forward to. Mama felt that being a shut in would surely lead to her demise.

As one grows older and less able to live independently it falls on loved ones to take responsibility for care and safety. It can be a daunting process, especially if there are no funds for securing the help of professionals. The once sharp minds of the elderly often slip into interludes of confusion and childlike thinking. They are less capable of being left alone than a young school age child. Those who assume the role of caretakers find themselves trapped in a twenty four seven all consuming duty. Even placing seniors in retirement homes does not provide the assurances that everything will be smooth sailing. It requires regular vigilance lest the beloved family member be neglected or abused. There are scores of families struggling to deal with loved ones whose minds and bodies have left them in a terrifying holding pattern that saps the finances and the energies of everyone involved. It is a reality being played out in communities across America that few acknowledge or discuss.

There was a time when extended families lived together on farms. The older members lived out their days under the watchful eyes of dozens of relatives. Someone was always available to see to the person’s needs. In our modern world it is virtually impossible to replicate the old ways and modern medical practices have made it far more likely that people will live longer than ever before. We now have seventy year old children struggling to care for their ninety year old parents with little or no help. It’s up to us to volunteer our efforts whenever and wherever we can.

Our elderly were once hard working people. They need and deserve loving attention in their final years. We need to make it a priority to devise ways of making their days more meaningful so that nobody has to sit in a mall waiting for the kindness of strangers. It’s time that we create programs that will be open to everyone regardless of income and that we all consider finding ways of volunteering to help. Someone in a little hat and coat is just waiting for us to come to the rescue.