Author: Sharron Burnett

I saw a post meant to be a put down of a young woman who had majored in Liberal Arts in college. She held a sign asking for help because she was unable to find a job and owed twenty thousand dollars in student loan debt. Next to the sad image of the girl was a young man with a sign boasting that he had learned a trade and had a great paying job and no debt. It was obviously meant to make the argument that a degree in Liberal Arts is a waste of time and money and such majors should probably be dropped from university offerings. It is a trope that is rather popular these days, but I would argue that it would be horrific to blindly condemn certain types of learning as useless without a critical examination of the value of a foundation in liberal arts.

There was a time when a Liberal Arts education was the foundation of higher learning. Often it represented the first level of post high school education designed to create an individual with a great breadth of knowledge. Sadly the more “practical” majors have taken favored status in recent years. We warn our young that they are more likely to gain employment with a study of engineering or business  than history or English literature. It has become an often accepted given that has replaced the old way of hiring Liberal Arts majors for their wide range general skills to a preference for graduates with more specific technical abilities. Over time society has seemingly devalued the liberal arts to the extent that we all actually denigrate those who still seek to follow such majors. 

I would instead propose that advanced civilization would lose a great deal if we were to junk the great courses in favor of only those that lead directly to something that appears to be useful. There is no doubt that we need engineers, accountants, chemists and such but those versed in history, philosophy, literature, languages, and the social sciences have much to offer that we would miss were we to be successful in guiding all young students away from the liberal arts. 

History teaches us that we humans have maintained similar characteristics over time. It outlines where we have been and points in the directions into which we are going. It is important for understanding the complexities of our relationships and meting out justice with knowledge of both the past and the present. Geography teaches us how the earth itself often determines cultures and economic patterns. Psychology and Sociology explain why we behave in particular ways. Philosophy explores the very essence of how we think. Literature is a gateway into the ways in which we humans soar above the animals or devolve into the destructive urges of hubris. Political Science tells us about the systems that we have invented for governing and how they differ according to the needs of a particular society. In other words a Liberal Arts degree informs us in ways that prompt consideration of ideas, precedents and critical analysis. It is the very foundation of great leadership and the ability to accurately judge the merit of how we should do things. It is far from a waste of time, money or effort. In fact Liberal Arts majors bring critical skills of logic and analysis to education, business, communication, the law and countless other professions. 

One of my greatest concerns about today’s world is the ignorance of the world that is shared by far too many people. Few are well versed in history and so they simply accept that we are where we are as a matter of fate Knowledge of political systems has been reduced to stereotypes and anecdotes. In the United States most people speak only a single language. Reading has often been reduced to browsing graphic novels or enjoying simple stories of pulp fiction rather than seeking the beauty of finely written words. Rarely is any student taught the fundamentals of rhetoric or critical thinking. We are so busy mastering what we see as useful that we forget that one of the greatest skills of all is learning how to learn, because very little in the practical or technical world stays the same over time. 

A well educated and modern society demands that we have the so called “practical” majors along with a fleet of individuals trained in trades like plumbing or mechanics and such. In our quest to train our young, however, we must also honor those who maintain the importance of the Liberal Arts. We need people who are willing to continue the march of civilization through both science and the arts. When we think of Leonardo da Vinci surely we can see that both his study of human anatomy and his representation of it in great drawings and paintings were incredible contributions to society. Galileo helped us to understand the universe but Shakespeare explored the universe of human nature. How can we possibly hold one in higher value than the other, and yet it is what we do each time we poke fun at someone with a degree in one of the arts while celebrating those in the sciences or who have certifications in a particular trade. 

I have learned as much from reading a great historical tract on the rise of fascism as I have from studying a mathematical algorithm, All learning widens our horizons and pulls us from a narrowness of mind. Perhaps it is time that we celebrate all knowledge and those who put in the time, effort and money to gain it. It is never a waste of time to learn something that we did not know only moments before. Ours should be a lifetime of research and analysis. If we all did that I suspect that we would be far less inclined to engage in petty squabbles or unproven lies. We would know how to spot a hoax or the how to detect the difference between facts and opinions. That sad young woman with the sign should not have to defend her choice of studying Liberal Arts. Instead she should be celebrated as a benefit and important contributor to our society. Like the monks of old who toiled over the copying of great manuscripts our Liberal Arts majors are preserving knowledge that we must never lose.

As our election nears and Covid-19 seems unwilling to just go away it is increasingly difficult to find a sense of calm. Our nation is generally riled up and there is an uneasiness even between friends and family members who disagree on how to bring a semblance of normalcy back into our lives. As we navigate through the emotional waters each day we search for moments of serenity, for surely if we do not calm down we will find ourselves in the middle of an eruption that makes the first presidential debate appear to be a model of congeniality. Feelings are not just being worn on our sleeves but consume our entire beings as we worry about the future of of families and our nation. We know that the intensity is not good for our mental health, but what are we to do?

I have found that just ignoring reality is unlikely to cure our woes. There are moments in life that we must face head on. Doing research, reading about the issues and then settling on a possible personal solution gives us a sense of at least being in control of our own thoughts. Such contemplation requires finding a quiet spot where we feel comfortable and able to sort out the confusion of our minds. It is a luxury in which we should indulge especially if we feel as though we are surrounded by chaos. We owe it to ourselves to pray and meditate rather than ceaselessly worry. Sometimes doing so may require us to arise before the rest of the household is awake or wait until they have all gone to sleep in the dark of night. 

In my recent travels to Colorado I stayed in a cabin atop Storm Mountain about fifteen miles from Estes Park. Each morning just before the sun arose a nearby rooster awakened me with his crowing. His cries for the start of a new day occurred just as the sun began to rise over the horizon when there was still a kind of chill in the air. I found myself following his command to awaken. I’d don my slippers and put a warm sweater over my pajamas and tiptoe into the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea. I’d sit on the porch of the cabin to watch that little slice of the world slowly coming to life. I found great comfort in the simplicity of the routine. 

Not far from where I was staying wildfires were burning. The news of our country and the world continued at its frantic pace. I worried about my aunt who was seriously ill with Covid-19. Reality still lurked behind the curtain of the pastoral scene but somehow that rooster and those early morning sunrises reassured me that I was part of a history far grander than the tiny moment of the present. The cycle of life is as steady as the rotation of the earth as it revolves around the sun. The year 2020 is but one of thousands, perhaps a bit trying but no more important to the cadence of life than the one in which my great grandfather awoke to don his military uniform for war against his once fellow Americans. The present is but a point on a continuum of human attempts to survive. The truth is that somehow we always find a way to overcome the most horrific moments even as our lives are utterly changed by them.

I am back home now and there is no rooster to foretell of the coming day but I somehow hear him in my heart. I still arise to the quiet of the house. I wait for the sun with my cup of tea. I listen to the sounds of my neighbors leaving for work or boarding buses to travel to school. I close my eyes and see the valley of Storm Mountain in my mind. I revel in the peacefulness of the image that will not forsake me. I say my morning prayers and check to see what has happened during the night. I plow on and even though doing so feels so much more difficult than it did a year ago I understand that there is a constancy in our human determination to make things right even as we struggle with so many difficulties that were once unimaginable. 

I suppose that we each have different ways of dealing with challenges but I worry about those who seem unable to confront their anxieties. They appear to lie to themselves about reality and pretend that just indulging themselves will chase away their fears. They do not want to sacrifice or change or gaze upon upsetting ideas. They attempt to make the rest of the world fit neatly into their own preferences. They avoid anything that upsets them, isolating themselves into a world of their own making that has no room for differences that they are unwilling to accept.

We are all in this crazy moment together. We are not just one family, one city, one state, one country but most importantly one world. The rooster on Storm Mountain will crow just as magnificently whether he is there or in Africa or the Middle East or Europe or South America. He will adapt to his environment just as we too must do when things change. Our best moments have always come when we agreed to work together. 

I have faith the we will ultimately use our talents to lift ourselves from all of the difficulties that plague us just as that rooster uses his. My early morning meditations and readings have assured me that good ultimately triumphs but it only happens when each of us is willing to do some heavy lifting and make necessary sacrifices for the common good. 

Traveling in the time of Covid-19 can be rather difficult. I have no desire to risk getting on a plane and I have yet to eat inside a restaurant since the pandemic came to our shores. I am not particularly confident that a hotel room will be as clean as I wish it to be. That’s why our little trailer suddenly became one of the best investments that we have ever made. 

Our first journey was only about four hours away from home. It was a great practice run for a trip that we recently made to Colorado. We managed to spend eleven days away from home and not once eat out or stay in a motel. With a bit of planning we were a self contained unit that travelled a contactless  two thousand miles. We stayed in lovely RV parks the whole time with only minimal and brief interactions with strangers, always with our masks clamped tightly on our faces. 

We drove from the Houston area to Ardmore, Oklahoma on the first day, arriving in mid afternoon. We had decided not to beat ourselves to death by driving into the night. Ours was a relaxing vacation that gave us time for leisurely evenings of dinner and movies in our little home on wheels. The park in Ardmore was spotlessly clean and even boasted an on site RV repairman. Our site gave us a view of a little manmade lake perched next to a swimming pool. We decided that this might be a great place for a short get away even after Covid-19 is little more than a horrid memory. 

Our next stop was in Russell, Kansas another rather delightful little park where we enjoyed a fall breeze over a glass of wine. Along the way we had viewed well manicured farms and the glory of middle America so our evening was filled with commentaries about the beauty of mid America and our gratefulness for those who farm to keep our tables filled with bounty.

By day three we had reached Loveland, Colorado where we parked our trailer for the next five days. We headed to my brothers’ cabin in Drake which is fifteen miles from Estes Park. We met up with my brother and sister-in-law who, like us, had been self quarantined since early March. We felt quite certain that everyone was Covid free because we had not been exposed to people during all of the ensuing months. 

We enjoyed the wonders of Rocky Mountain National Park for days. Timed reservations are in effect to keep crowding down. Everyone that we encountered was wearing masks and we complied as well. It was only when nobody was nearby that we removed the cloth coverings from our faces. We became accustomed to wearing them and sometimes even forgot that they were still on our faces when we returned to the car. Compiling with safety measures was a very small price to pay for the glorious luxury of enjoying the wonders of nature.

The Rocky Mountain National Park area is stunningly beautiful at this time of year. The trees are gloriously shimmering with leaves of yellow, gold, orange and red. We found ourselves in awe at virtually every turn. We took hikes and snapped photos all along the way and returned to the cabin each evening filled with a joy that we had not experienced for many months.

I suppose that because there were fewer people everywhere the wildlife was more abundant than I had ever before seen. We even had a moose run past us while we were sitting beside a river. I finally saw bighorn sheep walking along the edges of outcroppings and heard the bugling of a male elk. Even the rooster that lives near the cabin where we were staying seemed to be crowing a bit more jubilantly than usual. 

We did very little in Estes Park, a lovely town filled with little shops that we have rarely failed to explore. This time we agreed that we would not push our luck by visiting each store but we wanted some taffy and felt comfortable going inside to purchase it because of the strenuous mandates for safety. The county rules insisted that only four people be inside the small stores at any time and everyone had to wear masks. All of the precautions were strictly and rather cheerfully enforced which greatly elevated our comfort levels. 

In the evenings we might have built a fire but a burn ban was in effect. Not far from the cabin firefighters were battling a wildlife that has already consumed thousands of acres. We checked the fire reports each day to determine whether there was impending danger on Storm Mountain where we were staying. Luckily our area was spared. 

On one of our daily excursions we drove past the Longs Peak area to get better photos of that magnificent mountain. Along the way we encountered St. Catherine of Sienna Catholic Church where we stopped to say a few prayers. Then we browsed in the quaint gift shop.. I decided to purchase a rosary to say some prayers for my Aunt Valeria who had been battling Covid-19. She is one hundred one years old and I had been greatly concerned about her. I told the cashier why I wanted the lovely beads and she urged me to go back to the church to put my aunt’s name in the register. She indicated that a prayer group would pray for her that very afternoon, so I did as she requested. Later that evening I learned that my Aunt Valeria had somewhat improved so I celebrated that small victory with my family. Only last week my aunt tested negative for the virus and was steadily becoming stronger. Somehow I felt that my chance encounter had led to some powerful heavenly interventions on her behalf.

We had so much fun being out in the world once again and sharing time with my brother and sister-in-law. We talked and played games and laughed and enjoyed good home cooking every single day. This turned out to be one of the best vacations I have ever had. It’s simplicity made it even more meaningful. There was healing power in warmth and friendship, being in close proximity to nature, and watching humanity making the best of a difficult situation. 

We headed back home by retracing our steps in reverse. Once again our little trailer accommodated us well. I am ready to face a few more months of whatever comes our way because I now know that we can hitch up and take off and still feel the freedom of the road any time that we become bogged down with the weight of the world. 

My husband was a banker by profession and he was quite good at what he did. He had all sorts of customers who did everything from plumbing to exterminating. He use to joke with them that if he needed to unclog a sink or get rid of bugs he would call one of them and in turn they should allow him to help take care of their financial needs. In other words, it is a good idea to rely on experts when we have a particular problem. 

Long ago I gathered with several of my aunts and uncles to learn how a psychiatrist intended to treat my mother’s bipolar disorder. He outlined a plan which I proceeded to tear apart point by  point. Eventually my Uncle William intervened and asked me why I thought I knew more than the man who had been trained to deal with mental illness. He suggested that we at least try the therapies that the doctor had suggested. I deferred to my uncle’s wisdom and the doctor’s expertise.

When Covid-19 first came to our attention the medical community pointed out that it was a novel coronavirus and that they were still determining how it worked and how to deal with it. They adjusted their advice as they learned more and more about the best therapies. One thing that never really changed was their insistence that we were in the midst of a worldwide pandemic with very serious consequences. They asked us to take precautions for our own sakes and those of others around us. Eventually they knew enough to recommend that we all wear masks, avoid crowds, and keep a distance of about six feet from others. They were especially concerned about anyone who had preexisting health conditions and the older population.

For some reason there was a push back from a rather large segment of society. There were many who downplayed the severity of the virus and even suggested that it was a hoax. Some folks played a game of Russian roulette and when they did not contract Covid-19 they became more and more convinced that they were invincible. They began to flaunt all of the rules and even go so far as to poke fun at anyone who chose to be cautious. Their hubris made it more and more difficult for the more circumspect citizens to join them in public gatherings because of the uncertainty of everyone’s actual state of health.

I might go on and on about unwarranted incidents of careless behavior. I know of a woman who was ridiculed for wearing a mask to the office where she worked. I am privy to the comments of a man who railed against the people of Colorado for being mask Nazis. I know of a young high school student who induced laughter from one of her teachers and most of her classmates because she expressed concerns about the safety of face to face schooling. 

We all know someone who has caught the virus. Many of us know someone who died from the virus. Most recently it appeared that my aunt might die from the virus. Covid-19 is still on the prowl for hosts and it cares little about who that person may be. It is simply doing what viruses do, but we don’t have to surrender to it by throwing caution to the wind and taking unnecessary risks. 

I tend to believe that I would be relatively unfettered by the virus but in reality I have no way of knowing how it will affect me. It would be sinfully cavalier for me to simply take my chances and let fate decide. I have a husband who meets many of the criteria for having a dire case if the virus takes residence in his body. It would be incredibly selfish of me to risk getting sick and passing Covid-19 on to anyone else. I have an adult responsibility to be more cautious as do all of us.

Love of our fellow humans should be our motivation and impetus for following the guidelines. I hate wearing a mask. I feel as though I am suffocating under a blanket when I wear one. It makes me anxious and yet I try to calm myself, breathe naturally and rather quickly my body adjusts to the strangeness of having my mouth and nostrils covered. It ends up not being so bad after all and knowing that I am helping in a cause for all of humanity makes it feel like the right thing to do.

Hubris has undone both historical and fictional characters from the beginning of time. We must not think that we can fly too close to the sun. It is important to heed the wisdom of those who have knowledge that is not ours. Listen to the science and stay safe.

My twin grandchildren Ian and Abby celebrated their seventeenth birthday on October 1. As I was rummaging through photos of them to post on Facebook I came across one from the awards day when they were in the fifth grade. Both of them received medals for being on the all A honor roll for the year and for outstanding work in various subjects. Near the end of the ceremony the principal began to distribute Presidential Academic Awards that were based on scores from the previous year’s standardized test. Since both Ian and Abby had easily passed those tests we assumed that they would receive the special documents signed by President Barack Obama. 

One name after another was recited until virtually every student in the fifth grade class was standing on the stage. Only three students were still in their seats and one of them was my granddaughter who was by that point heaving as huge tears rolled down her cheeks. She was so embarrassed to be in such a noticeably small group and none of us could understand how it was possible that she did not earn the award. 

As soon as the ceremony had ended my daughter asked the principal if there had been some kind of mistake but she only referred us to the school counselor. The counselor said that even thought Abby had passed every test and even earned commended scores she had not met the required threshold of improvement from one year’s tests to the next. So she did not thereby earn the reward. 

Abby was still devastated. She felt that she had been shamed in front of her peers and their families. She could not understand why her high scores had not been enough to earn the Presidential award and there was no way to console her. In desperation I finally told her that I would personally write to President Obama and explain the situation to him. Of course I never expected to receive a response but my promise calmed her down enough to enjoy the rest of the day. 

I did indeed write to President Obama just as I had told Abby that I would. Weeks and then months went by and I assumed that my letter had ended up with junk mail and would never be acknowledged. Abby had moved on to middle school and didn’t seem to even remember that I had acted on her behalf. Then on her birthday a huge envelope came from the White House. Inside was a very personal letter written and signed by President Obama encouraging Abby to continue working hard and not to be undone by life’s disappointments. Included were photos of the first family and even one of their pet dog. There were also some pins and stickers and the kinds of things that little girls like to receive. 

I had to admit that I was deeply moved by the response and Abby was able to open it in front of her friends who had come to celebrate her birthday. They were oohing and aahing and telling her how lucky she was. I was almost in tears at the sight of her joy. While I tend to believe that perhaps the letter and other items were created by aides of the President, the signature was not just a rubber stamp. President Barack Obama had taken the time to personally sign the document. 

Abby has gone on to become a persistent young woman. When she encounters challenges she works hard to overcome them. It is almost as though she has taken President Obama’s message to her to heart. She works hard and won’t accept defeat. She has literally become the person he described to her in his letter. 

Abby’s moment of embarrassment and actual humiliation in front of a large crowd might have seemed childish and insignificant to most people but it had hurt her deeply. Her principal and school counselor seemed more concerned with following some strange rule than attempting to understand Abby’s feelings. They were unable or unwilling to admit that not giving a certificate to someone who had passed every single test with great scores indicated that something was wrong with the rubric. The letter from the President was symbolic of an administration with great compassion. They read my account and realized the importance of taking the time and the effort to encourage a ten year old girl. That small gesture meant everything to her and to me.

I admittedly was not always a fan of President Obama. He had policies that bothered me, but in that moment I saw the real measure of his administration. In the past four years retrospect has made me more and more appreciative of the kind of leader that he was. He surrounded himself with good people doing their best to lead for all Americans, even a young school girl. I shall forever be grateful for what he did for me and my granddaughter as well as for all the country. Sometimes it is in the seemingly insignificant that we see the most greatness.