Month: August 2024

I joined a Facebook group called Southeast Houston in the 50s, 60s and 70s. It’s fun to be reminded of what life was like during my childhood, teen years and twenties. I was young then and a whole lifetime lay ahead of me. Houston was far from being the fourth largest city in the country, in fact I actually recall the moment when the population here hit a million people. I watched the city grow and change into a metropolitan area with more than four million people and growing. In fact, some believe that there are many folks who have never even been counted. As more and more folks moved here so much of what I enjoyed as a child is gone forever. On the other hand so much that I never dreamed of seeing has come to pass.

I have to admit to having a grand childhood with the exception of losing my father which made me much more serious at an early age than I might otherwise have been. Nonetheless I was mostly a free range kid who explored the world around me on my bicycle without a care in the world. I played in wooded areas that are long gone. I watched freeways sprout up making it easier to get from one place to another. I saw the flight to farther and farther away suburbs leaving my old neighborhood behind and dampening the economic growth that had always been so vibrant there.

I actually stayed in southeast Houston until 2005, albeit not in my childhood digs. I moved to a house in a neighborhood that stayed fairly stable until the turn of the century. I frequented all of the wonderful places that defined my little section of Houston. One day I looked around and realized that so much had changed. My neighbors were moving away or dying. The stores that I liked were closing. Nothing felt the same and so I pulled up stakes and moved even farther out into the suburbs leaving behind incredibly wonderful times that were no longer what they had once been. 

I love the memories that I made in my childhood and throughout my working years but I am not one who looks backward and dreams of a return to times past. I have learned that most progress takes place for many reasons, to fill gaps that made life unequal and unfair for others. Change is an inevitable part of life and we can’t go back and probably would not want to do so. I suppose that sometimes we recall our childhood with such fond memories because our parents were shouldering all of the responsibilities that left us free to play and explore. Like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn we romanticize our youth when there were actually terrible things happening to people not so far from us as well as in other parts of the world. 

I still wonder how I was able to endure Houston summers in a home without air conditioning. I can’t imagine not having a phone at my fingertips wherever I go and even remember when I once had to walk several miles to find a phone after my car broke down. My laptop has made writing so simple whereas having to type everything back in the day was an onerous task. I recall spending hours combing through a card catalog at the library only to find that the references I wanted were checked out to someone else. I could go on and on about things that now seem essential that I had not even dreamed of having in the long ago.

I would not trade the diversity of my city today for the segregated racism of the past. There were things that I was not allowed to do as a woman back then that we take for granted today like getting credit or working at certain jobs. I was not able to attend Texas A&M University when I graduated from high school because women were still not welcome there. I remember female friends being harassed in engineering classes at the University of Houston in the mid nineteen sixties. We ladies were often told that our choices for life lay between being a housewife and mother or working as nurses, teachers and secretaries. Now girls can dream of being whatever they wish to be with no holds barred. 

I would not give up my memories for anything. They speak of the simple times when I formed friendships and enjoyed roller skating on a Friday night. They tell the story of days spent at the local swimming pool and adventures riding under the shade of trees in Garden Villas. I remember nineteen cent tacos at Jack in the Box but also a salary of eighty dollars a month on a forty four hour a week summer job. Things surely changed just as they were meant to be. If they had not my granddaughter would not be as independent and self assured as she is. She knows that she is capable of doing whatever her heart leads her to do. 

There was indeed a time when things moved more slowly in Houston and the southeast section was as homey as a small town. I still have many lifelong friends from that era and all of us have answered the siren call of the world. We look back and smile as we push ever forward, happy to live in an era that is exciting and capable of shrinking the world down to a size that we can visit and explore. I’m betting that the future will be even better for me and for southeast Houston as well. 

Those who regularly read my blogs may have noticed a staleness about them. I’ve been groping a bit to find good topics. Much of my lack of fresh ideas has resulted from four years of massive changes in lifestyle that have left me spending more time taking loved ones back and forth to doctor’s appointments than traveling to interesting places the way I have done in the past. I’ve had a few health bumps myself that have finally resolved themselves, but I have to admit that I miss my former life before Covid and January 6, 2021, and friends and family members dividing into political camps with little patience for differences. I often feel quite sad about the state of the world with wars in Ukraine and more fighting between Israel and Palestine. I long for calm and a moment when we can all just take a breath and love each other without rancor. Nonetheless I do understand that everyone across the world has been just as affected by the difficulties of the past four years as I have on a personal level. That is why I saw the summer Olympics as an opportunity to bask momentarily in an island of joy. 

The last time the worlds’ athletes were able to convene Covid was still taking thousands of lives each day. Everything about the event seemed to only highlight the sadness the we shared the world over. Spectators were not allowed. Athletes wore masks. Watching the pared down events was a reminder of the seriousness of what we humans were enduring. The prospect of seeing a more normal version of the Olympics was exciting given that my days of late have a kind of sameness of tempo and duties. I eagerly tuned in to the opening ceremonies last Friday with a the kind of childlike glee that is usually reserved for Christmas or a Birthday party. 

I found the extravaganza and creativity of the very different way of introducing the games to be refreshing and inspiring. I loved seeing the excited athletes from around the world in colorful boats sailing along the Seine River as thousands of onlookers cheered along the route. I liked the brilliance of the colors and the variety of the the musical acts. The fact that there was so much visible happiness even in a pouring rain made me smile more than I have for some time now. 

Lady Gaga was glorious as usual and so were the many people who were featured in vignettes that showcased the culture and history of France. I felt that I was on a grand tour of Paris, a place that I have often dreamed of visiting. The many hours of the program went by so quickly as I marveled at the inclusiveness of the talent and the themes of brotherhood and freedom that echoed the storied flow of the journey of humans aspiring to be better and better versions of themselves. I was so moved by it all that I posted a simple comment on Facebook to express my delight, “The opening ceremony of the Olympics is beyond fabulous!”

Later when the programming ended with Celine Dion singing her heart out once again I cried in big heaves. The miracle of her presence with her voice as strong and beautiful as ever seemed to me to be a metaphor for a good turn in the destiny of the world. Somehow as she sang and I sobbed I knew that we were all on the right track and that ultimately we humans would move past the death and rancor that has plagued us for far too long. Little did I realize that my post on Facebook would dust up a controversy that shocked and ultimately confused me and made me anxious. 

In the first psychology class that I ever took I learned the importance of perception. We each see the world around us in differing ways depending on our personal beliefs and upbringings. Perception is more influential in determining how we react to any event than actual truth. Even witnesses to the exact same happening will often walk away with dramatically different interpretations of what they saw. It is a fact of our humanity that we are constantly interpreting the input of our senses in unique ways because of our beliefs and experiences. Knowing and understanding the role of perception nonetheless did not prepare me for the volcanic eruption of differing viewpoints that my simple post inspired. 

I was almost immediately chastised by a long time friend for enjoying a ceremony that had supposedly attacked Christianity with an insulting reenactment of the Last Supper with Jesus and His apostles. In all honesty to this very moment I don’t even recall seeing that. I had to look it up in the hopes of jogging my memory but nothing worked. I suppose that it was one of the least memorable aspects of the outstanding entertainment for me. Why would I give much attention to a quick parody when I was treated to a rousing number by Lady Gaga and a tear jerking rendition of the French national anthem by a magnificent mezzo soprano? Somehow that little blip got past me and even if I had seen it I probably would have either laughed or rolled my eyes just a bit. Instead my friend was upset that I was not as incensed as he was. 

Other comments followed in quick succession from friends and former students choosing sides in arguments that seemed only to tell me that we are not yet as healed as I had naively hoped. In our hurt and loneliness of the past four years we have tended to choose sides and envelop ourselves in tribal behaviors which are generally unhealthy for us all. I wanted to be amused by the dust up, but instead the old sadness threatened to encircle me once again. I felt badly for my friends who so earnestly presented their personal points of view. I found myself thinking of the song Imagine by John Lennon and wondering if it is even possible for the world to be as one. As much as I want to be the grand diplomat who loves people regardless of how they choose to live their lives, I wonder if I am chasing a unicorn when I simply want us to try harder to do nothing more that just love each other. 

When all is said and done I have to think of the miracle of Celine Dion’s return to the moment that she has worked so long and hard to achieve. I have to consider the pure joy of the USA’s men’s gymnastic team as they worked together as a real and loving group determined to win a bronze medal. Perhaps it is in such moments that I see the key to bringing us all together. 

I am not angry at my friend for chastising me. I know him and so I understand that he truly wants to help me. I love my friends who so quickly jumped to defend me. I would tell them that all that I am okay. My perception has been fine tuned by years of caring for my mother, teaching students of every possible type, working with teachers striving to make a difference, enjoying incredibly diverse friendships, once again assuming the role of caretaker for my father-in-law. I have seen the hopes and dreams of many people, most of whom were different from myself. The one thing we all have in common is wanting to be valued and loved. That is what I saw in the opening ceremony of the Olympic games in Paris. I witnessed people from the world over celebrating life. That is why I loved it and did not take the time to pick it apart with little critiques. For me the beauty of it all really was beyond fabulous!