Month: October 2024

When I was in the third or fourth grade my best friend, Lynda, let me borrow a book that had once belonged to one of her aunts. It was a well worn copy a Nancy Drew mysteries which I eagerly began reading that very day. From there I was hooked, asking for Nancy Drew books of my own for birthdays and Christmas. I accumulated quite a collection and those in the series that I did not own I borrowed from the library. 

Over time I became addicted to all of the mysteries of Agatha Christie and eventually found my way to Sherlock Holmes. I fancied myself a bit of a sleuth because I became rather adept at figuring who done it in various stories. I even perfected detective skills that helped me to find things that were lost and to have a sense of foreboding when I was in a dangerous situation. 

Nothing entertains me more than a good mystery whether it comes in the form of a book, a movie or a television series. Nobody does such series better than the British and I am hooked on the many crime solving characters on the BBC and PBS. Thankfully with streaming I am able to find new detectives with ease. Among them is Professor T, a quirky criminologist at Cambridge University who helps the local police with crimes that are stumping them. 

Professor Tempest is definitely neuro-diverse with his stiff inability to interact easily with people. He is plagued by phobias and frequent insomnia that is interspersed with bad dreams stemming from witnessing his father’s brutal death. He is obsessively compulsive and seemingly strange to most who meet him, and yet he is incredibly brilliant at reading the behavioral clues that lead to capturing criminals.  

Professor T is a tortured man trying to unravel the mysteries of his own life stemming from his tragic childhood. He attempts to control his present time with daily rituals and ways of doing things, a coping method that is not all that uncommon among those who have experienced unexpected trauma. It is something that I understand quite well and never really considered as an aspect of my own personality until the character of Professor T discussed it with the therapist that he visits as part of the ongoing plot. 

There was me on the day before my father died and the person I became in the aftermath of his sudden and unexpected death. To this very day I worry about people being killed in car accidents. I often have frightening dreams in which people that I love are hurt. I knew that I had to assume some kind of control of my life or end up hiding in fear all the time. For eight year old me creating strict routines and keeping things always shipshape was a way to keep order and design fully present. I was able to chase my demons away by channeling my thoughts into studying and working. I became known as a Mega Type A personality mostly because it was the one way that I could feel a steadying force in my life. It’s the kind of thing that people often do when something terrible has rocked the very foundations of their worlds. 

I suppose there was even a period of time in which I pulled myself into a protective shell, but as I healed I was eventually able to allow myself to interact in deeper ways with the people around me. Somehow I overcame much of the anxiety that had changed me but compulsive obsession with maintaining order wherever I can is stamped firmly on who I am. It has served me well in my profession as an educator and administrator but I fear that it often drives the people closest to me a bit batty. I am indeed one of those people who is constantly cleaning and straightening things. I can’t leave dirty dishes in the sink and just go to bed. If the trash is overflowing I have to take it out even if it’s late at night. Such behavior is the one clue that I am still working through the anxieties that came from losing a key figure in my life. 

Like Professor T my own experiences have also provided me with an uncanny ability to read how others are feeling and to understand why they are acting in a certain way. My empathy goes through the roof whenever I sense that someone is hurting even when they are being unkind to me. I generally find that few people in the world are truly evil and not to be trusted in any way. Most of the time even those who seem to be bad to the bone are simply crying for someone to help them. I learned a long time ago that I can’t fix every problem that I encounter but I am certainly able to guide the sorrowful or those who love him/her to sources of help. Sometimes I am able to begin the healing process for them simply by acknowledging the pain that I see in their expressions or behaviors. 

Thus far Professor T has not been adapt at relating to people beyond himself. His traumatic moment was far more violent than mine. It takes a lot of love and therapy to get past some horrors no matter the age when they happen. We are all vulnerable and we would do well to remember that when we meet someone who seems too edgy, too serious, too angry, too withdrawn, too strange. It just may be that they have witnessed something that none of us ever want to endure. Maybe all we can do is just be kind.   

In my head I am still young and energetic and beautiful. Now again when I catch a reflection of myself I am literally startled for a moment. I wonder who the older woman staring at me is. There is often a disconnect between the reality of our aging process and the way we feel inside. 

I was recently in a bookstore waiting to checkout. A little boy was ahead of me with his father. I noticed him immediately because he seemed to be unable to stop squirming. He even lay down on the floor and began to roll around. Suddenly he popped up and asked his father, “Have you completed your purchase yet?” 

I was impressed with his rather advanced vocabulary and manner of speaking so I suppose I may have stared at him a bit too long. The teacher in me was fascinated and wondering who this youngster was when he moved toward me and stood directly in front of me. “I greatly respect elderly people even if they are weird,” he declared as though announcing something very important. 

I had one of those moments when my brain told me that this child could not possibly be thinking that I was either elderly or weird but then reality set in as I noticed him looking me straight in the eyes as though he was challenging me to respond to his statement. I quickly gathered my thoughts and simply echoed his thoughts by saying, “I greatly respect young people as well.”

The boy seemed taken aback by my response as though he had been expecting me to react differently. He waited for me to say something more, so I simply asked if he thought I was weird. My omission to his reference of being elderly seemed to satisfy the young man. He knew that I was admitting to the truth that I am an older person. After all, I will soon be seventy six years old and by any standard that age places me in the ranks of senior citizens. With a grin he threw me a bone by insisting that he did not think that I was weird. “I was only telling you that I am a respectful person.” he concluded. That was the end of our conversation but his comments stayed with me. 

I suppose that I like to think that I still look somewhat young for my age. It is a matter of silly vanity on my part even as I know where my wrinkles reside and how grey my hair might be without the color that my hairdresser uses to disguise the signs of aging. Just because I feel young at heart and strong as a lion does not mean that others see me that way. 

I have to laugh at myself because people more often than ever before open doors for me, offer seats, ask if I need help carrying out my groceries. I know that they are not trying to insult me but rather to be kind and helpful. All of which makes me laugh at the idea that for a time we had two men who are even older than I am running for President of the United States. They both have made attempts to insure the nation that they are still young at heart but their ages are showing in multiple ways just as mine must be obvious to everyone who encounters me. 

My grandfather was an interesting character because he lived to be one hundred eight years old but he actually embraced his age. He let his head go bald and put his feet in orthopedic shoes. He made jokes about his dentures and stopped driving at the age of ninety out of an understanding that everyone would be safer if he stayed off of the road. He remained energetic and actively kept up the home where he lived but he never once pretended to be younger than he was. In fact, he seemed to revel in growing older and being honored for his wisdom which was the product of years of experiences. 

I heard a famous actress talking about the time when she totally understood that she was an older woman and that her roles as an actress would drastically change. She admitted to going through a brief time of grief over the loss of her youth, but then she realized that there was a different kind of beauty in accepting her wrinkles and white hair as just another stage of life. She pointed out how some older people have a glow that emanates from their inner confidence and freedom of worry about superficial things. She has found a better part of herself that does not require her to be superficially attractive. Now her beauty comes from loving herself as she is. 

I suppose that the little boy in the bookstore was a kind of gift for me. He reminded me that I have passed into another era that can be as lovely and exciting as my younger years if I handle it well like my grandfather did. I have reached a time for just enjoying each day to the fullest as a great gift. I really have nothing more to prove about myself, especially when it comes to my appearance. The wrinkles will continue to grow and I can let my hair be natural or color it red if I am so inclined. The circumference of my waist can increase and nobody will care. My hands can look old and worn and they will only tell someone how hard I have worked. I have no idea how much more time I have on this earth so my only job now is to seize each moment and laugh with the little boy who pointed out the obvious to me. I am elderly and maybe even a bit weird now and then but life is good!  

I’m a believer in identifying problems and then compiling ideas for combating them. Right now I am convinced that I represent a difficulty for our nation. Yes, you heard that right. I understand that we have an inverted economy that was created through nobody’s fault but now must be addressed. 

So here’s the situation. After World War II the population of the world boomed. There were so many babies that schools were crowded and often had to resort to half day programs just to accommodate all of us who are now known as the Baby Boomers. Of course this was before birth control pills were a big thing. Women tried all kinds of methods to limit the number of children they had but were not always so successful. Homes were filled to the brim with kids. 

When I was a child and a teen there was still no such thing as Medicare. That came from the Lyndon Johnson years when I was a young adult. Before that time older people were mostly on their own when it came to getting medical care. I vividly recall my grandmother Minnie Bell being sent home with her cancer once my grandfather no longer had the funds to pay for her hospital stay. He was an eighty eight year old man who became responsible for replacing her colostomy bag and cleaning her wounds. Once she died he had to sell everything that he owned and clean out his savings to pay all the bills for her medical procedures. He rented a room from a kindly young widow and there he stayed for the rest of his days. 

Of course now we do have Medicare and as a result hospitals and clinics are filled with Baby Boomers who enjoy all of the advances in medicine and use up so many of the available appointments that the younger people often have to wait for months just to see a doctor. While I am a happy recipient of this wondrous gift I can also see that it poses a great strain on our medical community. We are living much longer than our grandparents once did and in the process we are hanging onto our homes and our wealth to the point of literally owing almost seventy five percent of America’s wealth. In the meantime the younger folk are facing a housing shortage unlike anything we have ever seen. 

I remember visiting a sweet Amish town in Indiana a few years ago. I was one of many tourists who paid for a tour of an Amish homestead. I learned that the Amish have a tradition of taking care of family that is different from the usual American model. Once the children become adults they begin to take over the reins of the family business even moving into the larger houses while the aging parents go to a modest home nearby. There is an acceptance of the seasons of life that takes into account the needs of each generation. 

Of course I see that even the Amish system has its flaws but I wonder if those of us who are now older are too quick to ignore the realities of today’s problems. We are attempting to stay young and vital which is a good thing but we often do so at the expense of young people who deserve better opportunities for investing in homes, growing families. We are too often prone to pepper them with platitudes about working hard like we did rather than admitting that their concerns are actually quite legitimate. It’s time that we get serious and look for ways to balance the imbalance that truly exists. 

I have forward thinking friends who have sold their homes and moved to smaller living spaces. They have distributed family heirlooms and gifted children and grandchildren with tax free sums that allow them to move upward on the economic ladder. These people do not suffer from the King Lear syndrome that worries that somehow their benefactors will selfishly forget them and leave them to die in dire straits. Instead they are finding joy in sharing what the fruits of their lifetime labors. They are righting the imbalance whenever they are able. 

I am at a point in my life when I have had a satisfying career, wonderful experiences, and a comfortable home. Right now I am determined to focus on the young adults who are my grandchildren and were once my students. I see their hard work and their dreams but I also know how difficult it is for them to recreate the kind of perks that were far more available to me.  I am determined to do all that I can in how I live and how I vote to set the stage for a better world for them. I believe that this is how it should be. I want to give them educational opportunities and trips that will enrich their lives. I want them to know that I trust them to build a world that will be good for all of us. I see their ideas pointing to a wonderful future. I want to move forward with them in any way that I am able. 

One of my favorite people is a woman that I only know from the texts that we send each other. She is retiring soon but she has enjoyed an exciting and quite lucrative career. She shares her good fortune with her many grandchildren in the most wonderful ways. She pays me a sizable mount each week to tutor ten of her grandchildren in mathematics. She considers it one of the best possible investments she will ever make. I think she is wonderful!

I want all of us Baby Boomers to stop for just a moment and ask how we might sacrifice just a bit to insure that our grandchildren have as much likelihood of making progress in this world as we had. Part of doing that is going to mean balancing an equation that right now is incredibly lopsided. With a bit of thought I think we can do it. 

One of the best aspects of being retired has been continuing to learn from outstanding professors at the RIce University Glasscock School of Continuing Education. The offerings have kept my mind active and been a source of information that leads me to new and exciting places. Most recently my husband and I took a couple of courses in philosophy taught by Dr. Victor Saenz. 

Somehow in spite of my own liberal arts education I had never before studied different philosophies so deeply. Learning about The great thinkers of the past and the present became a new kind of obsession for me. Along the way Dr. Saenz introduced us to the Houston Institute, a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping people think deeply about the best way to live through “robust conversations.” In that spirit the Houston Institute offers readings, monthly gatherings and debates. Among them was a spring debate concerning free will and evil. This fall the topic changed to the United States Constitution with Professors Lee Strang from Ohio State University and Mitch Berman from the University of Pennsylvania advocating for differing ways of interpreting the meanings the Constitution of the United States. 

Professor Strang defended the view of using the original meanings of the Constitution as much as possible while Professor Berman argued that the Constitution is a living document that must allow for change. Each speaker had twenty five minutes to assert his points of view, followed by fifteen minutes of refutation. With a very formal set of rules the discussion was polite and informative rather than confrontational. Each of the speakers demonstrated a high level of knowledge and understanding of Constitutional law. I ultimately sided with Dr. Berman whose arguments insisted that the Constitution must inevitably adjust to the changing times. Nonetheless, because of the calm and educated presentation of Dr. Strang I also found merit in his feeling that it is always best to begin with an assumption that ferreting the original meaning of differing aspects of the Constitution may in the long run lead to the best decisions. 

I was in awe of the knowledge of both men and our I found myself imagining taking one of their classes and reading further to develop my own understanding of the document that so radically changed the world over two centuries ago. It is remarkable how the thinking of the men involved in creating a new experiment in governing were able to contrive a system that has been up to now able to expand and grow into the defining characteristics of a a modern nation. 

I left the debate understanding how we still have work to do. Each of us needs to become more familiar with that original document and its amendments. We must be partners in developing the best aspects of the Founders’ intent. We know that much has changed since that original document was forged. We now include women and individuals who were once slaves in being active participants in the democratic processes. It should require serious consideration on the part of each of us to protect our Constitution by electing only serious individuals with as much dedication as Drs. Strang and Berman. Our discussions should be as calm and serious as the ones that they presented in the debate. We need to insist that the silliness that has seeped into our election processes cease. We need to be ready to deny office to anyone whose words and promises fly in the face of the inverted way of governing that puts the people first and foremost.  

Every candidate should first and foremost understand the warnings of our Founders who worried that there would be tyrants intent on using or ignoring the Constitution for their own power and not for the good of the people. The ridiculousness of cheap hype and fear mongering does grave harm to the very design of our nation. We have to spurn those who would have us believe that they have the power to overturn years of democratic rule by inciting revolution rather than engaging in serious discussions like the debate that I witnessed.

This was an important reminder to me that we do indeed have differing ideas about how things should be done, but those discussions need to be sane, respectful and productive. The professors both agreed that the differing points of view are not only legitimate but important for the health of our government. Sadly we have eschewed this kind of intelligent research and discovery all too often in favor of demagoguery and ignorance. it’s time we all agreed to become serious enough to do the hard work of talking and working together to come to conclusions that take each of us and the ideas of our Founding Fathers into account.  

I highly recommend that we turn off the meaningless rallies, the gotcha interviews, and the sickeningly dangerous political ads and instead ask ourselves who among the candidates has the humility and intelligence to represent the millions of diverse needs that we all have. The time for being serious is now and it will be found in mutual respect, not in whining and anger. 

I vividly remember reading The Diary of A Young Girl by Anne Frank when I was about the same age that she was at the time when she recorder her story. I flipped rapidly through the pages of the book identifying with her thoughts. I experience horror thinking about her situation, wondering how I would feel and act if I were ever in the same kind of danger. I cried uncontrollably when I read that she and her family were discovered and sent to a concentration camp. I cried even more when I learned that she did not make it out alive. Her story haunted me and left me wondering what could have possibly led to the evil of those concentration camps where so many innocents died.

I researched the history of Germany to determine how people had been able to look the other way when citizens among them were being rounded up and taken away. I could not imagine what kind of situation would foment such cold blooded disrespect for humanity. I wondered what would have happened to me or members of my family if we had lived in Germany during that time. My grandmother and mother both suffered from mental illness. Would they have been considered unworthy of life? Would my gay and lesbian friends have been rounded up along with the Jews. Would my boldness in speaking out for those being abused have earned me a berth in one of the camps? Would I have been strong enough to criticize what was happening, or would I have looked the other way, pretending not to notice?

I suppose that I never really stopped thinking about that era in Germany. It confounded me that humans were able to be so vile. Then again I realized that history repeats the kinds of horrors that occurred there with regularity. Here in the United States we enslaved people on plantations, sent Native Americans to reservations, segregated the freed slaves, abused Irish, Italian, Eastern European, and Hispanic immigrants, hated Jews, Muslims and all kinds of people for their religious beliefs, treated the LGBTQ community as though they were somehow perverse. Sometimes people from those groups actually died for no other reason than being viewed as different and therefore unworthy of living among us. 

It pains my heart to see and hear people categorize entire populations as less than, even criminal. It creates divisions and sometimes wars. Inevitably there are new Anne Franks who are hurt in spite of their innocence. I want to believe that I will always be a voice for them. I want to be the kind of person who will not quietly accept such situations or ever encourage such cruelty. 

My father-in-law warns me that my anxieties about the world as it is today will result in my death before his even though he is twenty years older than I am. He urges me to chill and just let things go because ultimately they always work out in the end. He reminds me that Hitler was defeated, the Civil Rights Bill gave all people more freedoms. While this is true I cannot abide by even one person having to endure unfounded hate on the way to what is right. To look the other way and just wait for things to eventually change for the good is not something I am able to do. I have to speak up even if it means losing friends, getting myself in good trouble. If we are all silent then we are complicit in evil and I don’t ever want to be accused of that. 

Right now I feel that a swell of hate is washing over the world and it has taken hold aggressively even in the United States of America. So many groups and individuals are being demonized by individuals running for office. Prejudices are being propagandized just as they were in Germany so long ago. I don’t know that the results will be as dire as they were for Anne Frank but there will be great and unnecessary suffering if each of us do not stand up for the worthiness of all people. Silence will result in hurt.

Many are living in social media echo chambers these days. If they only watch Fox News 24/7 or only talk with like minded people they may not even realize how horrific the situation is. I have seen it firsthand. I have heard the digs. I have even been appalled in hearing that God has sent some of the people to rid us of certain members of our society. This sends a cold chill down my spine. 

I want more than anything to believe that good people are being misled. I do not want to believe that they would be okay rounding up individuals and putting them in camps. I want to think that they truly understand the value of each person and their rights to live and believe differently. I long to know that they do not wish any harm to anyone, but somehow they have been led to believe that these “others” are dangerous. 

I say to everyone that we have to choose our leaders wisely in this moment. If we fail to grasp the seriousness of our coming election our descendants may one day be wondering how we could have been fooled into following the evil path of condemning people with labels and lies. We must look to a better future, not a darker one. We must vote for joy and love and freedom. Kamala Harris and Tim Walz are at the top of the ballot of hope. Voting for them will demonstrate that Americans will never allow hate to rule.