Month: April 2018

There Must Be A Better Way

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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Here in Houston we have had a number of locally famous doctors. Among them was a bonafide Texan named Red Duke. Red worked on trauma cases in an emergency room where some of the most seriously injured arrived again and again in hopes of miracles. God only knows how many lives Dr. Duke saved during his career. I know for certain that he was responsible for rescuing the daughter of one of my dear friends from the brink of death. The young girl was brought to him from an horrific auto accident barely breathing. The family had been told that things looked grim and they were preparing themselves for the worst. Dr. Duke went to work on her broken and battered body, and she not only survived, but went on to lead a very normal and happy life.

The interesting thing about Red Duke is that he was also a kind of celebrity here in Houston because he regularly appeared on a health spot on one of the local television stations. He was appealing because he seemed to be the quintessential cowboy with his enormous mustache and unapologetic drawl. His advice was always spot on and his folksy ways only made him more endearing to those of us in the audience. Over the years he earned quite a name for himself and the whole city mourned his passing as if he had been a family friend. His memory lives on for those of us who admired him and his work and even schools have been named in his honor.  More than anything Dr. Red Duke was a brilliant physician who dedicated his life to helping the citizens of our city to overcome some of the worst possible injuries.

Red Duke was a graduate of Texas A&M University, and the story of how he became a student at that renowned institution tells a great deal about his character and how things used to be in a long ago time. Red wasn’t school in the ways of academia, but he was a bright fellow and he knew that he wanted a college degree so he found out when the fall classes would commence at A&M and simply showed up one day announcing that he wanted to study science. He had not filled out an application nor even taken any entrance exams because he didn’t realize that there was a formal admission process. Instead He simply visited one of the departments and announced that he was ready to tackle the curriculum. The professor with whom he spoke was so taken with Red that he immediately decided to allow the enterprising young man to register. Of course Dr. Duke proved to be more than qualified for the rigors of the college and went on to become the incredible doctor that we knew and loved.

I often think about this story and others like it whenever I hear of how difficult it has become for students to earn admission to universities. The days of the old college try are mostly gone. Admissions are competitive to the point of overlooking a great deal of talent, and certainly nobody like Red Duke would be taken seriously in today’s environment. It’s sad to think about all of the students who might actually do quite well if given the opportunity to be judged on something other than grades and test scores which are often affected by considerations having little to do with actual capabilities.

We all know those types who get nervous on high stakes standardized tests and rarely do as well as they might. I am one of those who seem to literally lose my mind when faced with a ticking clock and sets of questions that I must attack quickly, and yet my cumulative GPA in college was almost a perfect 4.0. I’m a very hard worker and someone who may take a day or so longer than others to master a concept, but I will do it every time because I am filled with nonstop determination. Such traits don’t always matter much in today’s world where everyone is just one of thousands of electronically submitted applications, essays, and scores. 

There is also the problem of with the subjectivity of grading that varies tremendously from one place to another, one teacher to the next. A very high grade may be easy to achieve in one school but unlikely in another. It’s almost impossible to judge the true worth of grades without closely studying the history of the courses and the types of measures used. It’s well known that some universities, for example grade hard, while others dole out A’s and B’s like water. Being in the top ten percent of a graduating class at Bellaire High School is much more difficult to achieve than doing the same thing at other Houston. Purdue University has a reputation for generally giving students lower marks than they would make with the same level of work at one of the Ivy League schools. Grades are a very subjective and complex measure and yet they mean everything when attempting to gain entrance to the best colleges and universities.

All of this reliance on data rather than the living breathing characteristics of individuals has created a kind of intense game that dedicated high schoolers must play in order to move to the next level. The stressors are unbelievable and today’s students are having to work at a continually fast pace just to stay in the race. In the meantimes classes are becoming ever more rigorous as the required knowledge and skills are advancing to levels that were once the domain of universities. It is little wonder that so many young people are burning out and even becoming ill. It is more and more difficult for them to just be carefree. Instead their lives are dominated by studying and activities from the moment they arise each morning until late into the night, and the pressure just appears to be getting worse, not to even mention the fears of violence that hang over their heads.

There is so much required material to cover that teachers are beginning to rely more and more on videos and supplemental readings for their students. Assignments are often long and complex, taking hours to complete with very short amounts of intervals allotted to do the work. There are projects and extra curricular activities that fight for inclusion on overloaded calendars. All too often parents only find moments to spend time with their children over assignments and as spectators at events. Family togetherness is being stolen to the point of ridiculousness and because of the demands those who rebel and refuse to play the game are unlikely to get acceptance letters from the universities that they most want to attend. Few are given a chance to just prove themselves if their bonafides are not up to speed. Qualifications have to be golden from the start.

I understand that universities are crowded and must somehow draw the line on how many admissions they may grant. Still I wonder how many Red Dukes are being turned away. How much potential is lost?  Why should the actions or lack of them from teenagers be used to determine futures? Surely brilliance and potential cannot possibly be measured in the same way for all people.

I’d love to see a bit more willingness from admissions panels to deviate from formulaic decision making. In using only certain guidelines we are surely missing some unique souls who might be the future change makers of our world. Perhaps it’s time to use a bit more common sense and be open to that individual who shows up with something so beguiling that it’s worth setting aside the formulas to see what he or she might do. We need to consider whether or not we are stealing the happy days from our youth by placing them in the kinds of stressful situations that presently exist. Somehow there must be a better way.

Doing God’s Work

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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I recall feeling as stunned by the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King as I had been when President John Kennedy was shot in Dallas. I had to choose one person that I consider to be my the most extraordinary hero of the twentieth century it would have to be Dr. King. When I heard the news of his death I was stunned and as I was washing dishes I became so upset that I dropped a plate that I had been rinsing and it shattered along with my dreams. I was only nineteen years old at the time, and I felt as though the world had gone mad. It was days later before I was even able to process what had actually happened and it was then that I fell apart.

I remember wanting to desperately to talk with my not yet mother-in-law because I knew that she had been as impressed by Dr. King as I was. Several days had passed before I finally saw her and I found comfort in knowing that she was as shaken and grief stricken as I was. Neither of us said much and our words for each other were not particularly wise, but our common bond of love and respect for this great man was palatable, Just sitting quietly with her sustained me as I quietly thought of how great our nation’s loss had been and of Dr. King’s  a martyrdom for a noble cause.

The fiftieth anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King’s death occurred just this week, and I found myself once again feeling quite distressed at the thought of how horrific his murder was. He is undoubtedly my number one hero from the twentieth century and over the last five decades I have often longed for his wisdom and leadership. There had been a time when I had believed that he might one day be President of the United States. His influence in bringing about the passage of the Civil Right Act cannot be underestimated and I thought that we would honor him with our gratitude rather than cutting his brilliant life so short. His courage and incredible speaking ability allowed him to become a voice for all people who have endured prejudice and injustice. His “I Have a Dream” speech is one of the finest in the history of mankind, ranking with the Gettysburg Address and other great rhetorical masterpieces.

I remember being quite surprised when I realized that Dr. King had been somewhat small in stature. Somehow he had loomed so large in my mind that I imagined that he must be a giant. The monument of him in Washington D.C. is carved out of an enormous boulder and seems to be a fitting representation of his impact on the history of our country, and yet he was always a humble man who worried that he was never doing enough to hurry the pace of integration and civil rights.

I have literally felt his spirit when I went to Birmingham, Alabama and placed my hands on the jail bars that once imprisoned him. I felt the same rush of something quite spiritual when I walked through his boyhood home in Atlanta, Georgia and again in his parsonage in Montgomery, Alabama. When I gazed up at the balcony in Memphis, Tennessee where he was standing when he was shot I felt as though someone had kicked the breath out of me. I almost saw him standing there, feeling so tired and wrestling with a sense of foreboding that his days were numbered. He was a target for the worst instincts of humankind, but he continued to preach a doctrine of civil disobedience rather than violence. He was always first and foremost a minister of God’s word. In that spirit he dreamed of a world in which we all might follow the commandment of love,

Martin Luther King was no more perfect than any of us. He admitted to his own failings which included bouts of depression and times of doubt. He sometimes wanted to leave the limelight and quietly live a more comfortable existence, but each time he considered such ideas something in his mind told him that he was supposed to continue his work. I have often wondered where he found his strength, but then I remember that he gave full credit to his faith in God. He felt that he had been chosen for the difficult task and he followed his vocation even when it became brutally difficult. The attacks on his character came from both his enemies and those who called themselves his friends. Sometimes he felt quite alone, but then he always remembered his God.

Somehow there have been great men and women who rose to the challenges of different situations. Some say that Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War completed the task of creating a society in which all people had unalienable rights. The reality is that a hundred years after the Gettysburg Address and the abolition of slavery there were people in our country who were treated abysmally. The sons and daughters and grandchildren of slaves were still being denied the rights that should have been theirs and it took the dedication of countless individuals to overthrow the horrific practices that were still protected by laws of segregation and inequality. All of those souls played an important part in the outcome of the civil rights movement, but Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was their voice just as Lincoln had been for the slaves.

I know that there are still problems in our country that must be resolved, and I hope and pray that more and more of us will do our part to insure that no person is treated differently due to race, sex, or religion. We have come far, but it would be premature to believe that the work is done. If Dr. King were still here I suppose that he would be able to express the problems in an elegant manner that everyone might understand. Out of honor for his work it is incumbent on all of us to do what we can to honor his memory by living the way he wanted all of us to be. The process of justice begins one person at a time, and it is our duty to do what we can to protect even the most vulnerable among us.

I cry tears of both joy and sadness when I think of Martin Luther King. I am happy that he accomplished as much a he did, but I worry whenever I witness racism and realize that it is alive and well while such a great man is dead. In this Easter season we often think of the life of Jesus Christ whose words should guide us just as they did Dr. King. If we truly wish to do God’s work we must continue the work that Martin Luther King showed us how to do.

Taking One For The Team

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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A little food for thought… A group of twelve wolves:  The three in front are old and sick, they walk in front to set the pace of the running group lest they get left behind. The next five are the strongest and best, they are tasked to protect the front side if there is an attack. The pack in the middle are always protected from any attack. The five behind them are also among the strongest and best; they are tasked to protect the back side if there is an attack. The last one is the LEADER. He ensures that no one is left behind. He keeps the pack unified and on the same path. He is always ready to run in any direction to protect and serves as the body guard to the entire group. Just in case anyone wanted to know what it means to be a leader, it’s not about being out front. It means taking care of the team. —-Ivan Ginsberg

The best bosses that I ever had were quiet leaders. Sometimes it was not until they had gone that those of us who worked for them understood the full extent of their greatness. They were the kind of men and women who rarely tooted their own horns, but rather proudly shined the limelight on their employees instead. They sometimes took the heat in our defense without mentioning the troubles that they were willing to endure for us. They were low key but ferociously loyal to the team. The success that they sought centered on finding and developing the individual strengths of each member of the group. Often their guidance helped us to find talents within ourselves that we didn’t even know we had.

In particular I recall working in a school that had a less than sterling reputation. It was one of those places where people were reluctant to go. The employees were thought to be mediocre to bad. Public opinion of the place was abysmal. A new principal infused life into the place without hiring a single new person. His secret was quite simple. He made a point of providing each individual with special responsibilities based on their particular skills. He turned followers into leaders. He made former weaklings feel strong. Before long people were flocking to the school from all over town to see what miraculous things were happening, when in fact the only real change had been in how the system was run. The talent had always been there and this man was able to make it work.

There is a current trend to see the brash and boastful as the sort who should lead us. We tend to favor those who sling the most hurtful insults or fire the most people. We view arrogance as power, when the truth is that such individuals are actually harmful. They are the sorts who will leave us stranded and responsible for our own safety when danger lurks. They mouth caring platitudes, but when push comes to shove they are all in for themselves and toss us to our enemies.

Years ago my husband worked in a start up company created by a man who literally sucked the air out of any room that he entered. His focus was more on his own needs than those of the business and its employees. At the grand opening party I met his mother. She was a sweet lady who was nervous about the impression that she was making. She did not want to ruin the event for her son who was doing his best to avoid her. She confessed to me that he had only asked her to attend for the optics, otherwise she felt that she was somehow an embarrassment to him. At one point he walked over to her and stealthily suggested that she had been there long enough and needed to just go home before she messed up his big moment.

I remember thinking that he was a horrible man for treating his mother so poorly and I silently worried about my husband working for him. My forebodings were right on target. Within months the organization began to fall apart as the man slashed and burned the cohesion of the team. Eventually there was almost rebellion among the employees and my husband was among those who left in complete frustration. For all of his fanfare the arrogant boss ended up being all hat and no cattle. There was nothing behind his words other than his own insecurities which ultimately led to the business failing rather quickly.

Loyalty is rarely produced by intimidation. A great leader understands the importance of seeking a common purpose and using individual talents in that pursuit. When there is an atmosphere of respect and gratitude for each contribution people are eager to work for the cause whatever that may be. When we feel safe we are able to ascend to higher and higher levels of actualization. When we see that each person is valued we are willing to take risks to become more and more accomplished.

The downfall of organizations or governments can be traced again and again to a kind of megalomania that pits one person against another, breeding paranoia and unhinged competition. Enron had been a good place to work until Jeff Skilling unleashed an atmosphere of winning at all costs that lead to cut throat tactics and deceit. The mentality of firing the bottom fifth of producers each year created a chaos that encouraged lawlessness. In the end the employees were left for slaughter.

One of my former students has started a very successful business. I have noticed with pleasure how often he gives credit to his employees and demonstrates his gratitude for their hard work. He understands that his job is to be the leader by following behind and taking care of the team.

There are entire educational programs designed to teach individuals how to to manage organizations. A great deal of social science has been dedicated to researching teamwork and leadership. The one thing that all conclusions have in common is the realization that working together in a spirit of mutual respect is critical, and it is the leader who makes or breaks the system. If we want to drain the swamp of any group that is not working, we must first find a leader who is willing to work with the group.

Do Not Be Dismayed

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

pexels-photo-414752.jpegDo not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world.

All things break. And all things can be mended.

Not with time, as they say, but with intention.

So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally.

The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.

      —-L.R. Knost

Just before Easter last week there were big storms in Texas. At the very moment that the rain began to come down in heavy bursts over our home an interior shower occurred inside the house. Water was pouring from the vents in our kitchen, laundry room and hallway. Of course our first thought was that we must have had a terrible leak in our roof since the timing of the incident corresponded with the rain.

As it turned out it was our hot water heater that was sending the torrent through the ceiling down the walls all the way to the bottom story of the house. Our upstairs bathroom was spouting moisture like a sieve and the carpet in the area nearby was saturated. Luckily we were able to turn off the gas and the water connected to the offending appliance and allay some of the damage. Nonetheless we will have a number of repairs ahead to insure that no mold grows inside the walls and to fix the door jam to the bathroom that is now so warped that the door won’t close.

Of course we have little reason to rejoice over the expense and inconvenience of this household accident, but the reality is that it might have been far worse had it happened while we were away from home or sound asleep. We actually feel rather lucky and, as my niece remarked, we may even get some nice changes to the house that we will ultimately enjoy.

An irony of the whole situation is that only an hour or so before the incident my husband had crowed about the fact that our health insurance had covered all but a pittance of a very expensive ultrasound that he recently had to check on an artery in his brain. We laughed that we will probably spend as much as or more than the cost of that test in getting our home back to normal. I thought of how my mother would have seen the situation in her characteristically optimistic way. I could almost hear her saying, “Isn’t this wonderful? Because you didn’t have to spend so much on the medical procedure, you will have enough to repair the house. Isn’t God good?”

The fact is that all things break. Entropy is a fact of nature, organizations, societies and humans. Each of those things can also be mended unless the damage is extraordinarily severe. We just need the will to take care of whatever problems we face, and if we do it with a smile rather than a grumble we feel a bit less of the pain.

One of my favorite books is Things Fall Apart, a tragic tale of pride, conquest, and man’s inhumanity to man. It is a lyrical story written by a gifted African author who outlines the effect of  arrogance in a clash between an inflexible man and political and economic forces too strong for him to overcome. It is a classic tragedy in three parts that speaks to our very human flaws. It’s theme of broken promises and spirits is all too often the stuff of the human experience. When things are left to simply rot there is a kind of darkness that descends.

Only months ago my city was literally under water. It felt as though we were engulfed in a situation from which we would never escape. There was billions of dollars of damage to people’s homes and schools and churches, but even more to their psyches. For a time I truly worried that it might be impossible to bring our gasping area back to life, until I saw person after person, group after group rolling up their sleeves to help perfect strangers. The love that was present in every corner brought a light of hope that was both miraculous and up-lifting. Somehow we all knew that we were going to be fine, and sure enough slowly but surely things are moving back to normal and we are basking in the intentional love that was showered on us by both friends and perfect strangers. In our moment of deepest tragedy we saw the goodness in mankind in all of its glory.

There is something truly wonderful about people when in times of dire distress. They generally find ways to come together to solve problems, repair broken dreams and get back on the right track. We are almost always more good than we are bad, but sometimes we get so busy arguing over how best to be that way that a kind of darkness descends over our intentions and we lose our direction. We seem to be in that state of mind right now.

We have many problems that we need to address, but we are so busy arguing with one another that we get nothing done. Our brokenness is impeding our efforts. We are forgetting to love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. We are bogged down with our feet of clay. Our inflexibility is making all of us unhappy. We are forgetting to focus on what we have in common rather than where we disagree. The broken world will stay that way until we are willing to spread light rather than shouting at one another.

We have citizens who worry about the next health issue, but we do little to ease their fears. There are young immigrants who live in the shadows wondering if they will be sent away to countries that they do not know. Our schools are not as safe as we had once hoped they would be. We have threats from around the world. There are far too many broken souls with addictions and mental illnesses. There are many questions that we must address, and that will only happen when we work together like people did in my city when it felt as though we were all going to drown.

We proved here that we can be all one people. Perhaps we need to try doing this on a truly grand scale. If our politicians can’t fix what is broken, then we need to begin the process of mending ourselves. It can take place one person at a time, one moment at a time. All we need do it stop our shouting and get to work.

Love With No Place To Go

Published on by Sharron Burnett2 Comments

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Grief is just love with no place to go. —- Jamie Anderson

I usually take out my copy of a recording of the Broadway musical Jesus Christ Superstar and play it around Easter time. As I continued my ritual this year I was suddenly reminded that a few years ago at about this time I was listening to this music while on my way to visit a friend who was in the hospital dying. I had known her for more than forty years and it would be the last time that I would see her alive. She was breathing, but little more than that. I nonetheless told her that I loved her and gave her hand a squeeze in the hopes that she might somehow realize that she was not all alone in her final days. Her husband had died years earlier and many of her former friends had passed as well. She had no children and her living relatives were far away in Chicago. It was a sad situation that somehow finds its way back into my mind with great regularity each time that Easter rolls around.

My grief for my friend was compounded by the horrific fact that within a span of mere weeks not only did she die, but also three former students whose lives were tragically cut short. I literally found myself wondering who would be next and I was soon walking in a kind of emotional daze. I even wrecked my car while in my own garage as absurd as that might sound. I was quite literally feeling as fragile as delicate glass and wondering how it was even possible to encounter so much sadness in such a short space of time.

One of the people who died that spring was a vibrant young woman who was in the process of planning her wedding. She had selected her gown and the venue for the celebration. Her world appeared to be nothing but loveliness and she could not have been in a happier state of mind, nor could those who loved her most. On the night of her death she and her fiancee had been to a party. She wisely chose to drive home because he had been drinking and she was in excellent shape. As she navigated the car down the road a drunk driver swerved into her car causing her to lose control. When all of the vehicles came to rest she was dead, leaving her friends, her fiancée and her mother in a state of shock and despair.

While the young woman’s mom has been a paragon of strength and inspiration, she has suffered now and again to this very day. She knows all too well what might have been had her child lived to walk down the aisle and maybe even one day have a baby of her own. Her grief is still palatable when certain triggers bring back memories, but she does her best to be optimistic. The love for her daughter only continues to bloom and grow, but as the saying goes, it has real no place to go, even as she channels her goodness into helping others. 

Recently the grieving mom spoke of the dos and don’ts in relating to those who have lost a loved one. She reminded all of us that it does not help to hear that her child “is in a better place.” Nor does she want to be told  that “everything happens for a reason” for what possible rationale might there be for such a terrible tragedy? Are we really to believe that somehow she was supposed to sacrifice her beautiful angel for some grand purpose? Of course we know that reality doesn’t work like that.

When someone dies we often struggle to know what to say or do. In our desire to offer wisdom we sometimes actually make things worse with platitudes that somehow attempt to diminish the hurt and pain that loved ones are feeling. We want to believe that time will heal the ragged emotions that people feel. We are often far too eager to urge them to hurry back to normal so that we won’t be as uncomfortable. Often the reality is that they will continue to carry a certain level of sorrow in their hearts for all time. They may not be as desolate as in the beginning but they will always miss that special person and endure moments of pain associated with the loss.

My father died more than sixty years ago and I have certainly come to grips with his absence in my life, but it would be cruel to hear someone suggest that maybe he is better off than if he had been allowed to continue as our father and guide me and my brothers through our childhoods. His death was the ultimate tragedy for our family and none of us have ever fully recovered from the grief of not having him around. We are not neurotic about his passing, but we know that we somehow missed something very special and we wish that we had been allowed to have just a bit more time with him. Without warning something will trigger our thoughts of him and the “might have beens” that we will never experience.

Sometimes all someone who is grieving needs is the space to fully engage whatever feelings are coursing through their souls. All those of us who wish to comfort them need do is express our love for them and provide a shoulder lean on or a hug to show our concern. We really don’t have to provide spiritual or intellectual lessons. Being there and continuing to be there is more powerful than all of the words that we might muster. 

People have to find a place for the love that they feel for the special people in their lives, even when they die. The complexity of doing that reveals itself in grief. It is a normal and natural process that they must endure and it is always painful. It’s not up to any of us to attempt to deny them the opportunity to experience the emotions that are part of the long journey of healing. When someone has the courage to admit to the hurt and anger that accompanies them after loss, just remember that what you are seeing is love.